I became a senior citizen last week Friday. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect it to be so traumatic, although for nearly a decade I have been aware that it was on my doorstep. I had even had the temerity to tell my friends who wondered what the new millennium held for them, that one thing was sure "we are all each and everyone of us going to die in this century." The only person who might make it to December 31 2099, if she lives to be 100 is my new granddaughter, Ianna Monique, who was born in January 2000.
Last Friday, it suddenly dawned on me that my driver's licence had expired a few days before. Without waiting to have my hair specially done and make up properly applied as my previous thinking had been "this thing has to stay with you for three years, so you better look good," I rushed to the St James Office, dashed on some lipstick, ran the comb through my dishevelled hair and got upstairs long before closing time.
The first shock was the question from the person handing out the forms: "Do you need a doctor's form," which I very well knew was necessary at a certain age, annually, before your driver's licence could be renewed. "No" was my terse reply, as I said to myself "well, the age is really showing now." A male morning savannah walker looked at me and smiled, could have been in greeting or empathy, I wasn't too sure.
I quickly filled the bright pink form and was directed to the checking booth, where the female staffer made some notations and ticks and sent me on to the cashier. This is where the fun and games began. The cashier, again female, looked at the form and said $15.00 please, my hands were already fingering two blue notes in my wallet. "Whaaat, fifteen dollars" I fairly shouted bending at the same time to see the face behind the request, and thinking all at once "Kuei Tung must have dropped the fees in the last budget, but how come I missed that."
"Yes Maam, $15.00" came from the booth with a very polite explanation "yuh see by next year November you will need the doctor's certificate as you are --------years now, so the rule is to just give one year renewals at $15. each year to the age for the certificate. Aren't you going to be -----years in November coming? According to this form you are."
My voice dropped to a whisper as I replied in the affirmative, adding "but if with three years I forgot the renewal date, what will happen with just one year now."
"Nah man, it will be easier for you to remember now, and look how much you saving. You still writing?" This last question must have been meant to pacify me.
Penny-pinching me would have happily paid the $200.00 if it meant the postponement of "certificate age" for another three years. I paid the $15 and took a seat waiting to be called in for the photo, in total shock at this act which seemed to have set me firmly on the path to old age, without my approval.
I remembered how annoyed my mother and her friend, whose son was a doctor, had been when he correctly decided that there should be no more renewals for them both at age eighty or thereabouts. And how I had vociferously agreed with him to pay no attention to their anger and stop these two old ladies before they killed either themselves or someone else.
Here I was taking the first step on the path which would surely lead to my not being certified to drive in another twenty years or so. I was as angry as my mother and her friend had been because it no longer looked a long way off, it was right here staring me in the face.
By the time I got into the photographer's booth, checked the form as requested and noticed that the 'F' had been changed to 'E' at the end of the Permit Number, believing with some degree of paranoia that here was another attempt to discriminate and place people like myself in another category of the alphabet, I was livid. The photographer assured me that was just a departmental thing.
The net result was a driver's licence with a photograph which just needs a number across my chest, and it would be a perfect mug shot, ready for the police file of an accused individual. I thanked God that it was just for one year.