Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

One of the most important parts of a teenager’s life is getting their driver’s license.

I had taken the road test twice and flunked. My dad was in the car with us but I was the one who kept failing those road tests. The third time I didn’t take dad. I didn’t tell anyone I was taking the road test again. Bingo! Third time was a charm. I think about it every time I drive past the armory on Highland Ave. It’s where lots of Somerville’s teenagers got their driver’s license.

I went home and showed my new license to my father. I asked to take the car for a ride. He let me so I went and picked up my friend Charlie. It was a 1967 Dodge Dart with a small225 Slant six. We headed toward Route 2. We drove up the big hill and we’re now facing that great Boston skyline. As I increased the speed, Charlie read the speedometer, “60, 70, 80, 90, 100!” The gas pedal was almost pinned down. Then Charlie shouted “120!”

The speedometer was buried. We were flying. I was crazy for driving so fast.

We started for home and parked in the driveway as my first death ride was finished.

I gave dad back his car so he could take it to get his haircut. When he returned home, he commented on the amount of gas that was used on our short ride. He slapped his keys on the kitchen counter and said, “The gas tank was full! Where the hell did you go. China?”

No dad. Just Arlington.