Sixteen

The day I turned 16, I got my driver's license. 

The person who administered my road test that day had a terrible hangover. Ashen and covered in a sheen of sweat, he slid into the passenger seat and instructed me to make three right turns. My "once around the block" exam seemed paltry given what was at stake. But I didn't care.

I was officially a licensed driver.

Where I come from, this upcoming holiday stretch is referred to as "Cape Weekend, " as in Cape Cod. Considered the opening salvo of summer, teenagers flock to the Cape on Memorial Day weekend. So much so that the road leading to the Sagamore Bridge is filled with newly-minted drivers, many of whom are making their very first long-distance trip behind the wheel.

Oh to be 16 again, doused in suntan lotion and racing toward the future.

"Patience is something you admire in the driver behind you and scorn in the one ahead." Mac McCleary