KAREN WIGHT -- No Place Like Home

We’ve had a big week around the house: We survived the winter formal,

a birthday, the completion of a sports season and a fourth cast on a

child’s broken arm. But the piece de resistance, the unequivocal apex of

the week’s activities came when the oldest child got her driving permit.

This is a life-altering chapter for every teenager. Impending

independence. I did not have a car of my own, but I was allowed to drive

my mom’s green Pinto when I got mine. The car even had a sunroof -- don’t

laugh, this was a big deal. And though it was a far cry from today’s

sport-utility vehicles, it was freedom and it was sweet.

A lot has changed since the Dark Ages when I got my permit, but there

are important issues that withstand the test of time. Like hair.

It is important that your hair look fabulous for your photo. Studying

for the actual test? Second priority.

At the Wight house, the kids are usually wet and tired. We like ‘em

that way. But “wet” and “permit picture” just don’t go together. A mad

dash from school-to-home-to-DMV was absolutely necessary to guarantee

that this picture -- arguably one of the most important pictures you will

ever take -- is worthy of immortality.

I still remember the dress I wore for my first driver’s license

picture: orange and white checks. Of course, thinking about it, the cute

dress was completely superfluous, all that showed in the picture was my

face and shoulders. Apparently, that didn’t matter because I still

remember the “driver’s license dress” in vivid detail.

Our teen is not so worried about the clothes, but the hair is

important. So important, in fact, that several electrical appliances are

required to finish the look. Thank goodness there was no power outage

during the critical preparation stage.

The test did not seem to be too high on her worry chart. Maybe it pays

to be one of the younger kids in the class and have the advantage of

those who went before you. She left the Department of Motor Vehicles with

permit in hand. She is now free to rule the road -- well, at least with a

parent at her side.

It seems as though once the permit is obtained that any trip in the

car becomes a big deal. I was hoping to start off slowly, driving around

the neighborhood, empty parking lots and unpopulated areas. This phase

does not seem to be very popular.

Once you have a new driver in the family, questionable traffic

engineering seems to confront you at every turn. The nonexistent merge

lane from the peninsula to Coast Highway -- yikes. The narrow streets on

Lido -- scary. Any neighborhood when school gets out is unnerving.

The most frightening place of all, however, is the school parking lot.

Cars, kids and hormones just seem to be a recipe for fender bending.

And that’s another thing. This is a pricey area for our kids to be

practicing. The likelihood of hitting a really expensive car has

exponentially increased. A Suburban backing into a Jaguar can cost

thousands of dollars. Ouch!

At Riverside Polytechnic High School, this was not too much of a

problem. Most of the cars in the high school parking lot were pretty

pathetic. My Pinto looked good in comparison.

So along with all of the other important events of the week, we have

taken an important step toward mobility and responsibility. The parents

understand that there are now elements out of our control. We need to

trust the child to make adult decisions. We pray that 15 years of good judgment will continue.

And even though this leap toward independence is bittersweet from a

parental perspective, I can take solace in the fact that her hair in the

picture looks great.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs Sundays.