In those final weeks before school let out, many of us discussed when and where we would take our drivers training. The general consensus was to use the Sears Driving School, which was conveniently located close to our junior high school, and had already been used by many of our older siblings a few years before.
I got registered for the drivers course, and in June 1985 started my classes, along with a few friends from school. The whole idea was to complete the course, including obtaining the learners permit, then practice driving with our parents (or someone over the age of 18) until our 16th birthday. Then, we would be allowed to obtain our driver license, provided we passed the written and practical driving test.
Driver's Ed is a bit of a blur. We saw some pretty gruesome films about just how badly things can go on the roads, and I recall one of my friends was particularly fond of "giving people a friendly tap of the horn," when driving around with his mother. Our final exam for the course was held on the morning of Live Aid, which gave me a particular incentive to complete the test as accurately and quickly as possible. I left tape rolling to record while I was taking my test, but I knew I was likely going to miss a few important music acts performing at Wembley. Of course, the real priority was to pass the exam so that our permits would truly be valid.
Well, I passed the exam, no problem. I then took advantage of every opportunity to get behind the wheel with my parents in tow. Any errand my mother needed to run, I was her driver. Likewise with my father, when he allowed it. (My father apparently had a lot taken out of him while helping my sister learn to drive. I won't discuss the topic further, but more often that not, my mother took this task on with me.)
A significant advantage I had with regard to driving was the fact that we attended church downtown, about 25 minutes away, depending on the traffic on the highway. This was significant because I basically got to drive us to and from church EVERY Sunday for 10 months, and this was on top of all the neighborhood runs (to the grocery store, etc). True, every other 15 year old I knew from church was basically doing this same thing, but because of our distance, I logged a lot of highway miles. On top of this, I learned my city backwards and forwards.
My father quickly realized I knew (for the most part) what I was doing behind the wheel, and gradually he started taking me on little driving excursions, too.
This preparation helped me pass my driver license test that next April (of 1986) and suddenly I joined the ranks of licensed drivers. Tick in the box.
Maybe one day I will go through the story of the Golfs, but for today's post, will just say that from the first license, I enjoyed driving whenever I could. I got my first car just before my senior year of college, and toodled around in it until it was no longer worth repairing. With the second car, I was already living in an apartment complex, and I took that car with me to Boston, keeping my plates registered in Texas.
During my time in Massachusetts, I never changed the address on my DL. Apparently I was supposed to, but I did not feel inclined to do so. I actually had a little story prepped (made slightly more plausible by having a car with Texas plates) that I was just "visiting" the area, in the event that I ever got pulled over by the police for any violation.
Renewing DLs was always a bit of a hassle, and I understand it to be even more complicated these days, particularly in Texas. For me, despite the nuisance, I just needed to remember to renew the license BEFORE it expired. This is not a complicated effort, but does require a bit of planning. On my 30th birthday, I went to the DL office that was closest to my workplace, out in Irving. At that time, one could not make an appointment, so you never knew if you would have to stand in line for hours, days, or what.
Luckily, in April 2000, the line was very short that day in Irving. The woman behind the counter actually picked up on the relevance of the date, and actually sang me Happy Birthday, which I thought was very nice. Because I had learned a little more about the importance of registering your actual address with the Department of Public Safety (DL Office), I jotted down my little Goliad address, which made sense, since that is where I lived. (I remember briefly the discussion with the big house on whether or not to make my address a 1/2, to denote that I lived in the garage apartment separate from the house. In the end, I just kept getting my mail from Lori, and my subscription to the Economist came each week as soon as Chris was done reading it.)
That was my last physical address in the US before I moved to Europe in 2006.
For convenience sake, I have continued to use the address of my parents (my childhood home) for any things that require a physical US address. This made perfect sense to me when I made the move, and not least of all, because my sister, who had moved to Europe 14 years before me, was doing the exact same thing.
True, I hardly ever get mail at that address, but a few things do come from time to time. Financial statements and various other documents continued to be delivered to my folks and stored in "Bryan's Box" for me to review during visits.
As we have all gotten older, the realization finally hit me that one day, this address would go away. I was already looking for ways to decrease any (however small) dependence on my parents (ie..handling my infrequent mail, etc) when my mother passed away. Her passing got me to thinking that I would need to take additional actions sooner rather than later.
Because American driver licenses are used as the predominate identification, I have continued to keep renewing my Texas DL. One of my summer trips back to the US involved me getting picked up at the airport by my folks, then driven directly to the DPS office close to the airport. My father needed to renew his license, and they had scoped out that this location was less shitty than all the others in the area, when it comes to the hassles and lines at the DPS. We still had to wait about 45 minutes, but it did not go that poorly, and I was able to get my license renewed before jetlag hit.
Again, I can only speak from the Texas experience, but somehow through the years, they changed the renewal rules to allow for every second renewal to be done online (rather than in person), so long as you had no traffic violations during the period.
Thus, in 2018, again while I was there for a visit, I jumped on line, found I was able to renew my license, and within 10 days (during Christmas season, even), had my license in hand. But only for Texas (and the US).
When I arrived in Germany, I quickly discovered that obtaining a driver license was a pain in the butt. With a little effort, I found that some of the American states qualified for automatic conversion, without any requirement for taking driver training, tests, etc. The other states, including mine, were at the SOL side of things: we would need to go through the exact process that every new German driver has to go through. Among other things, this would be a significant investment, several thousand euro.
Because of my circumstances, I could not justify spending that kind of money for a license that I was hardly ever going to use. I have touched on this in the past, but in 15 years, I may have needed to drive maybe 3 times. I may have wanted to drive a few times more than that, but I have happily moved around on foot, public transportation, and the lovely train network.
For business travel, I rode with colleagues or took taxis and public transportation. And it has been fine.
Last autumn during my interview with the company, it came to light that I did not hold a valid European driver license, and this raised a few eyebrows. My boss ultimately said it would be beneficial for me to obtain this. We went back through the story that many US states do not qualify for an automatic conversion, and that I had refrained from going down the "hey I am the oldest guy in this driver's ed class" path on grounds that it made no financial sense.
However, I did take the action to do some investigation, and found that during my time in Germany, the number of US states that qualify for auto-conversion had increased, and now included my state. A few years ago, I had also heard something about this, but there was some sort of stipulation that there was no grandfather clause. This meant, even though I carry a license from the state, I have lived here to long to qualify for automatic conversion.
This was a little discouraging for me, particularly since I was starting a new job during a global pandemic. How and when was I going to be able to take driver training and go through this whole process? I asked a few American folks about their experiences, which was not quite as helpful as I had hoped. The support was there, but everyone had come to Germany at a different time, and from other US states.
I read and reread the information on the Frankfurt DPS website, and finally concluded that apparently said grandfather clause no longer existed. From the wording, and there was a lot of it, I must say, it appeared that I simply needed to gather some documentation, a translation of my TX license into German language, and a few other things. I decided to get things rolling, and sent my license off for translation. Over the next couple of months as I began my new job and tried to get through less pleasant aspects of the pandemic, I gathered all of the things that I understood I would need in order to set an appointment with the DPS and go see about getting my license converted.
This preparation involved getting a vision test, which I got last month: a little certificate that says that I can see adequately with corrective lenses. This was the last item on my list, and true to form, I was really sweating before going to get the test. Part of this was due to my initial visit to the optometrist, when the girl said "holy shit, you need glasses," during the consultation. She hinted that the driving vision test was a little more involved, and there was a possible chance that even with lenses, I might not score so well.
My confidence was a little shaky, but I got my glasses, got used to them (sort of), then went back and passed the driving vision test without any problem.
Big relief feeling number one.
I immediately returned home, and went online to make an appointment with the driver license people. The pandemic has sort of helped streamline this whole process; I had heard many Germans were just as frustrated by visiting the DPS as everyone I knew from the states. The office really only allows for appointments to be scheduled in advance, and they are limited, for the most part to 15 minutes. Because of the number of people who need such services, it can take several weeks in order to get a time slot.
This is exactly what happened to me. Earlier in the spring as I was getting things organized, I knew that I wanted to target the end of June for this visit to the DPS. I was scheduled off of work for a few days, and that would be the perfect time for me to take care of the personal business.
Unfortunately, the first available appointment I found was for this past Tuesday, a week after my time off. I booked the time slot at 12h45, and informed my boss that I would need to be out of the office for a little bit to get this taken care of. "Oh good luck, that stuff sucks," my German boss said.
So, this past Tuesday, after checking and rechecking that I had all my paperwork, I left my house at 11h44, walked to the taxi stand and directed the driver to take me to the address. "Ah, getting your license, eh?" he asked me.
The Frankfurt region is rather large, and there are only two driver license bureaus, but because of the appointment scheduling, they keep things kind of under control. It is not overrun with all the new 16 year olds that go off to take the driving test on their birthday.
The closest office to me is unfortunately on the other side of the city. I had already checked the traffic situation, and expected it to take us about 30-40 minutes to get through the city and out to the western outskirts where the office is located.
Even the taxi driver remarked that he was glad we were leaving so early for an appointment that was scheduled a hour later.
On the way to the office, the taxi guy and I talked about the world, the pandemic, 9/11 and the aftermath, and once again I realized how much I have missed talking with random people over the past months and year. We made pretty good time, and as I paid he wished me luck.
I started feeling antsy (as I always do, for absolutely no reason) as I stood outside smoking a couple of rally myself ciggy. What if I get in there, and they pull out the old rules, or flat out deny me? I rallied myself and decided to just take whatever came.
The entrance to the lobby was manned by a guy who would periodically come outside and ask who had an appointment scheduled for x hour. The website indicated that one would be allowed inside only 15 minutes prior to the scheduled appointment. Because this place is kind of remote, and not really supported by local public transportation, everyone tends to go early, lest you arrive late and miss your appointment entirely.
A handful of us stood there in our masks, and one guy who was holding his license plates turned me and asked what time my appointment was. "Viertel vor," I responded, to which he said, "me, too."
At 12h40, the doorman allowed us inside, and we went to the little kiosk to register our number, then took a seat and waited for our number to show on the screen.
I took a deep breath at 12h44 when my number appeared on the screen, then went over to the desk of the lady. I proudly handed over my passport, Aufenthaltserlaubnis, my translation, a photo copy of my TX license, and the license itself. After a minute, she stated that there was one thing missing, which momentarily threw me. She started by asking if I understood German, which I confirmed. Then she mentioned that she needed a history of my licenses, including the original issue date.
"Fuck fuck fuck," I thought as I remembered seeing this listed on the website requirements: proof of original date of issue. I had misinterpreted this as the issue date of my current DL. That date is listed on my current license. What she really needed, however, was the date way back during Live Aid, when I first got my permit.
Most bureaucratic employees do not show their most positive cheery sides when working with the general public. A couple of friends of mine who do not speak as much German had commented that their experience in the DPS was still pretty okay, and that the employees had been at least helpful, if not relatively polite.
I quickly realized that this lady was not looking to make new friends, but she was certainly trying to help me get things sorted out. I was also overjoyed that the topic of grandfathers or auto-conversion had never entered the conversation. I only needed to provided proof of my DL history in order for her to proceed with things from their side.
We were certainly using up our 15 minutes as we discussed the situation. "Do you have your old licenses with you?" she asked me.
Um, no.
"Well, you will need to contact your TX DPS and get the records, but usually you can do that online fairly quickly," she said, and I realized again that she was going out of her way to be helpful. Clearly, she also had gone through situation with more than one other (likely Amercian) driver looking to have their license converted.
We talked about solutions, and in the end, she took my money, kept all the documents as well as my TX license, and gave me a little card with the email address, so that I could email the documentation.
"Once we get that, we can complete the conversion, and we will send the license to you in the mail."
Big relief feeling number two.
In short, I did not quite get my license, but as soon as I could get them the missing info, they can complete things. This is exactly what I wanted: the easier path for getting the DL (as opposed to taking the course, the tests, and spending shitloads of money).
She had to hide a smile as we finished things up, and I knew that I had sort of won her over, maybe because of the new glasses, or the fact that I spoke German, or that I was simply very polite and thankful for her help.
I walked back outside into the sunshine, and took another deep breath as I took my mask off.
It was 1 o'clock in the afternoon, and I needed to return home and get back to work, as well as contact the DPS in Texas.
As I said, the office is remotely located, and I started walking back towards Frankfurt, hoping like hell that a taxi would drive by looking for a fare.
40 minutes later, I was sweating more than I wanted to and was still on foot, arriving to Skyline Plaza. I had walked through a few western districts of Frankfurt and had seen several things that I had not seen in awhile, if ever. I actually enjoyed the long walk, but was reaching that point where I was needing to be working again; I did not want to make it a totally free day.
During the walk to the Plaza I managed to drop my mask on the ground, and fortunately found another in my backpack, although it was a little past its prime. It sufficed for me getting in the taxi and directing the driver back to Bornheim. He rolled up the windows, turned on the AC, then turned the radio to a station that apparently only plays hits of the 80s. So, on the way home, I listened to Phil Collins, Michael J, Ultravox, and a few other pop hits from, ironically, the time I was just getting my original DL issued.
The taxi got back to Bornheim just when I was needing to remove my mask, which was more past its prime than I had initially realized.
I walked back in my front door at exactly 14h14, exactly 2 1/2 hours after I began my adventure, my trip to the DL bureau.
During the rest of the afternoon, I obtained a document from the Texas DPS which I think is what is required, and while I was rummaging in a drawer, I came across 4 of my old licenses. I decided to scan them and email them to the Frankfurt office along with the one document I had. I am kind of hoping that the folks in the Frankfurt office do not laugh too much at my license photos from 1992 and 1998, or at least do not laugh any more than I did as I looked at them.
In Germany, at least for the people in my age group, people are issued with their license one time. Initially, it was issued without expiration. Thus, every German friend that I have carries a driver license with a photo from about 35-40 years ago. The rules are now as such that my license, like everyone else, will be valid for the next 15 years.
We always talk about getting our ducks in a row, getting organized with things. On on hand, I procrastinated for 15 years before bothering to try and obtain my German license. On the other hand, it was only just now that I actually needed to do something about, and now I can tick that box. I have done something about it, and am pretty close to getting this taken care of.
I am feeling proud of myself for the effort, and am waiting excitedly for a confirmation email from the bureau that everything is in order. I will take things as they come, but since they took my money, my new license photo, it looks like I am well on my way.
The next evening, I met a few friends at the pub, and reported on my progress. Both girls are German and were interested to hear how the process works for converting the license. Both expressed a surprise that an American license could be converted without the holder having to go through the rigorous process of driver education, practical and written exams, etc. I sheepishly reminded them that I did not make the rules, and likewise pointed out that my own experience learning to drive was also rigorous.
All of this is just to get the license, and getting this license means that I give up my Texas license. There is a bit of sentiment attached to that, but we all have to grow up sometime, don't we? To me, the TX license was the last physical ID that listed my childhood home. True, the objective here was to create a solution for the future, when that address is no longer able to be used. But still...
I expect this story to continue on until the happy moment when I get my German license in the mail. I can then consider how and when I will start driving in the country. But at least I will be able to say I can legally do so.
Until then, see you out there. On foot.
bryan
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