TEST YIELDS GOOD RESULTS

In my last posting, I lamented the forces change to the new Google/Blogger template that does not allow any paragraph spacing.

I truly prayed about this, and I considered retiring this blog and possibly starting a new one with a new "server".

I asked the Lord if there was any "Trick" I could use to again get paragraphs back onto the blog.

God showed, me, no kidding and it WORKS as you can see. It is a LOT more work and more "tekky" which I do not like, but although it will take me more time and more work I will be able to write with paragraph spacing again!

JAY IN THE HOUSE

NOTE: SORRY that this is all run together!! This was composed on the "NEW" Google blogger template. I HATE IT! I miss the old one, which does not seem to be any longer available. When I composed this piece, it had paragraph divisions, etc. When I "published" it, the piece all ran together. Thanks a lot Google Blogger. I am being sarcastic. I HATE this! Well here is my piece: "I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority..." (from I Timothy 2:1-2) If you're perceptive and alert, you can experience some interesting encounters with some interesting people in the midst of ordinary life. It makes me think of something that Pastor Westover (my first pastor in the Assemblies of God) preached in a sermon back in the 1970s. He said that you can learn something from almost EVERYONE and ANYONE. I remember him adding, "And, that guy digging ditches, you can learn something from HIM!" Today, I encountered Jay, a very interesting character. Following several hours working at the answering service, I went to my "other" job at BJs Wholesale Club, passing out flyers as people entered the store. After about an hour, and many "people encounters", a couple who appeared to be in their early seventies entered the store. They seemed to be olive skinned, and the man looked Asian...maybe Chinese or Japanese. The woman took a flyer, and the man immediately engaged me in conversation. As the flyers were for the Optical department, he began telling me of the problems he is having reading signs. Honestly, I'm having some of the same problems, so I could relate. This guy was very engaging and he talked and talked. He talked about how difficult it is to read highway signs. Then he commented something like, "this reminds me of the kind of stuff the Obama Administration does" and he chuckled. I chuckled along with him and told him I'm not really a fan of President Obama and that I thought I understood his point. The man told me his name is "Jay". He then said, "I'm sure you would NEVER GUESS where I originally come from." I don't think I could have. He was obviously Asian but his slight accent seemed Spanish. He then told me he was born in South America and that his first language was Spanish. He is ethnically Chinese. His actual legal name is Javier. Jay said that from the age of twelve he had been fascinated with the United States of America and wanted to come here to live. He loved the American culture and customs. Jay came here in the 1950s; he told me the plane landed in Philadelphia and that is what he considers his "birthplace". Jay had slightly bad breath. It wasn't TERRIBLE, it was just slightly bad. He had missed a few spots shaving, which I find is common with a lot of elderly men. He had several moles, including one prominent one in between his eyebrows. His wife stood patiently off to the side as he talked to me. She was around five feet away. I wondered if she was upset or impatient with him, but she seemed very calm, like this is common and he kind of needs to pontificate about life and politics and that she's content to just wait and let him talk. Jay expressed much displeasure about the Obama administration and the direction in which the country is moving. He said he longed for the America of the 1950s and 1960s. Jay's hero is Ronald Reagan. He admitted Reagan's administration incurred much debt, but Jay said he deeply admired how Ronald Reagan brought down the Soviet empire and stood as a true leader. I'm also a huge admirer of Ronald Reagan and Jay was pleased that I agreed with him. He told me, "back in 1968 when Reagan first ran for President, I had a FEELING about him that he would be a great President". He was very disappointed that Reagan did not get the nomination that year, but was thrilled that he finally was elected President. "My feelings are not ALWAYS right, though," he added, "I felt the same way about George W. Bush and I was WRONG!" I agreed with Jay's assessment of George W. Bush and I told him so. Jay said he knows Mitt Romney is "wishy washy" and is no Reagan, but he feels confident in voting for him. "I used to be a management consultant," he said. "I have been to Utah many times. Many of those Mormons are better Christians than most Christians are!" I'm not sure I would put it THAT way but I think I know what he meant. Many of you know I'm extremely unhappy about the choices we have for President this year. I think they're BOTH bad choices, but I found Jay's comments valuable and helpful. Jay's final message to me was vivid. He held up his hands in the "Praying hands" posture and he urged me to pray for our country. "Pray,PRAY!" he exhorted. In a moment, Jay and his wife were on their way shopping. It was quite an encounter for me. Jay was in the house!

FROM MY BLOG ARCHIEVES: "Je Me Souviens" -about Sept. 11, 2001

This piece, entitled 'Je Me Souviens' is about my memories of Sept. 11, 2001 and was originally posted on my blog on Sept. 9, 2006.

"...and there he builded an altar unto the Lord, and called upon the name of the Lord." (from Genesis 12:8)

Here in Massachusetts, we see a fair amount of Quebec license plates over the summer months. Many Canadians vacation in New England and they love Cape Cod. I remember from my early childhood that the Quebec plates used to say "La Belle Province" but the new motto "Je Me Souviens" comes out of the Quebec separatist movement. My paternal grandparents each emigrated from just outside Montreal, and my heritage in Quebec goes way back. I deeply regret that I speak very little French, but I do know that "Je Me Souviens" means "I remember". (No, I won't talk about my French Canadian heritage today- maybe another time.)

I remember.

I remember September 11, 2001. I also remember November 22, 1963, for that matter. Up until 9/11/01, November 22, 1963 held the record in my memory as being the most sad and intense day that I could ever remember in this country. The shock of the news of the Kennedy assassination, and all that followed was so vivid and horrible. I never thought any day would equal the sadness and horror of November 22, 1963; and none did until September 11, 2001- which tied it.

Maybe it's because my birthday is in September, but I absolutely LOVE September. On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I was on a day off (as I usually am on Tuesdays). At that time, my two daughters were students at Framingham's Marian (Catholic) High School. Since both were on "financial aid" my wife and I had to "give something back" to the school. (That was before my wife was the full-time head administrative assistant at Marian as she is currently.) I was committed to doing clerical work in the Development office at Marian every Tuesday, just as I'd done over the previous school year. Sept. 11 was my first day "serving" for that year. I was up VERY early that day. I drove Amy and Rachel to school. I then went out and took a long walk. It was a BEAUTIFUL morning. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I walked, I prayed that (like Joseph in the Old Testament) I would do a good job at Marian and find favor with my superiors. I was so happy and so thankful for the beautiful day. I picked up a Boston Herald and perused it over my breakfast table as I ate a bowl of Special K. One article leaped out at me. It said Regis Philbin was holding tryouts in Boston on Sept. 13 for college students. I ran upstairs and told my son Jon, a Freshman at Emerson at the time. Jon was ecstatic and determined to try out.

After watching the last few minutes of a particularly good episode of Northern Exposure on A&E, I left for Marian at 9 and was in the office by 9:15. After some cheerful "chit chat" I sat at the computer and began to work. At 9:30, Mr. Flynn (one of the teachers) burst into the room.

"My mother just called and said two planes crashed into the World Trade Center," he exclaimed.

There was a radio in the room, so I turned it on. At first I believed some terrible accident had happened. After about fifteen minutes, the announcer speculated that it must be "terrorism". I now feel stupid writing this, but I hadn't even thought of terrorism. I felt almost sick to my stomach. A few minutes later, it was announced that a plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. Like everyone else, I knew America was under attack. I couldn't believe that this wonderful September morning had turned into what seemed like a horrible nightmare. Then it was announced that a plane had crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. I knew my son was in Boston to attend classes at Emerson, and that my sister worked in an office building near Copley Square. I genuinely feared for their safety. I wondered if the trains would be shut down and how they would get home.

In my heart, I was really afraid. I prayed a silent prayer, asking God to calm me down and to lead me to a Scripture passage to read. I carry a small "New Testament & Psalms" with me at all times. I opened it to Psalm 27. That Psalm gave me such peace and ministered to me in such a powerful way that I used it for the text for my sermon on the following Sunday.

The final period of the day was a special assembly to address the terrible events of the day. Fr. Sheridan, the Catholic Chaplain came in from his parish in Ashland and spoke. I had to give him a lot of credit because I was not even sure what I'd say. Sitting across from me was the mother of a Marian student. She was also a woman who'd left our church six months earlier. It was not a pleasant time and we'd angrily clashed over the departure. After the service, I spoke to her, urging us to forgive each other and reconcile. We did.

The train service was slow and sporadic but Jon finally got home from Boston. I remember feeling very patriotic and very emotional at the end of that day. I suspected other attacks would follow within the next few months, and of course that did not happen. I suspected America would never be the same, that we'd really draw closer to God and to one another. That lasted for about three weeks, and then everything was back to "normal". That still surprises and saddens me.

September 11, 2001. I remember.

'64 FORD FAIRLANE

"...and he made as though he would have gone further." (from Luke 24:28)

This morning as I drove from Canton, MA to Westminster, MA (about 65 miles one way) I had an interesting "travel companion" for about half of the drive. On Route 128 (also known as Interstate 85) in Needham, I noticed a classic car of the sixties as I glanced into my rear view mirror. At first, the car was too far back for me to tell the make. At a distance, it almost looked like a 1968 full-sized Chevrolet. The car moved into the passing lane, and came alongside my car, then moved in front of me. In fact, it was a 1964 Ford Fairlane. The Ford was metallic green with a white roof and white trim. In the '50s and very early '60s Fairlanes were full-sized Fords, but for 1962 through 1967 they were mid-sized cars. Well, cars got SO big in those days, that the mid-sized Fairlane is almost as big as a full-sized car of today.

Boy, did that car "take me back"!

Can it really be forty-one years ago when I was learning to drive?! In those days, I was learning on a 1963 Dodge Dart, and there were cars like that '64 Fairlane all over the roads! A Ford Fairlane has particular significance beyond the usual nostalgia, however. My late brother Eddie was VERY partial to Ford products. Over the years, he had a black 1962 Ford Fairlane, a red 1966 Mercury Comet Caliente, and a metallic green 1970 Ford Thunderbird. At classic car shows, you see a lot of Ford Mustangs of the 1960s and a lot of the big Ford Galaxies of that era, but not too many mid-sized Fairlanes. But a Fairlane was an "Eddie" car, so that was kind of special.

Our cars drove in tandem onto the Mass Pike (Interstate 90) and then onto Interstate 495. We each took the same exit off 495 onto the beautiful country road known as Route 117 through Bolton and Lancaster. THAT'S "apple country" and some very beautiful country, at that. It turns out that at the Lancaster Fairgrounds they were having a huge classic car show. The Fairlane turned in.

I was truly sad to see it go. For thirty miles I was day dreaming about Eddie and learning to drive and life in the 1960s and 1970s. In the words of a famous song:

"Could it be that life was oh so simple then? Or has time rewritten every line?"

I spent the NEXT few miles after the Fairlane turned off thinking about the symbolism of that car today. I'm a guy who hates change, but change is inevitable and is a huge part of life. I'm actually having a sort of a 1964 Ford Fairlane experience right now. Since June, I have been living at my sister's in Canton- in the house I grew up in. It's all very different from what it was in the 1960s and 1970s. In those days, the oversized Cape Cod house was painted red. The paint inevitably faded and peeled,and the house constantly needed to be repainted. My father was the kind of guy who had "stuff" left all over the place and there were always a lot of unfinished projects. In those days, there was a hardtop play area in the back yard. As little kids, we rode tricycles there.

The hardtop play area is gone. It's all grass now. The house is sided in yellow vinyl. Everything inside has been done over, really nice. It's very 21st Century. Even so, I see tricycles and kids playing jump rope and my father in work clothes working on some project, and my mom baking a cake, and all sorts of other scenes in my mind all the time as I'm staying at that residence.

It's kind of nice to be "in tandem" with that house for awhile, as I was in tandem with the Fairlane today. But, for scores of very obvious reasons, this living arrangement is temporary. It's not something I really chose any more than linking up with the Fairlane is something I chose. Like this morning's trip, it's kind of different, and kind of neat, and kind of cool, but it's just for a brief season.

A future lies ahead and like precious memories of the past, that future is a gift from God.

TIMING, THOUGHT, AND THINGS

"And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:" (Hebrews 9:27)

"A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth: and a word spoken in due season, how good is it!" (Proverbs 15:23)

My friend David C. Milley has often been concerned about some of the things I've written. His concern is that I can "put stuff out there" in an emotional state that I will later regret, and which, to use a line from a popular television show, "can and will be used against you".

Thus, I am taking a deep breath and trying to be very careful in what I write here.

A short time ago, I received word that the cousin of a woman I know fatally shot himself yesterday. The cousin was more like a brother, so of course, this is a devastating time for her family. In that case, the guy had a major psychotic episode. It is likely that there's nothing anyone could have said or done to change it. This does not make anything any less painful for that family. In fact, I'm sure they're experiencing a level of grief few of us could imagine. So, if you're a praying person, please pray for Sherry and her family today. They need it.

Ironically, it was also in the news this week that a young man committed suicide by jumping off the Bourne Bridge. At least two decades ago, huge anti-suicide fences were installed on the Bourne and Sagamore Bridges. (For you non-New Englanders, these are the two very high bridges over the Cape Cod canal which are managed by the Army Corps. of Engineers.) I was surprised the young man "pulled it off"; because it's GOT to be a very difficult feat with that fence in place.

Suicide is a very, very complicated topic: I think there are many, many reasons why people become suicidal and why they act on their feelings and actually kill themselves.

I'm reflecting on this today because at times I've struggled with very deep and dark depression as did my mother before me. Mom was never officially diagnosed with depression, but she spent at least half of her adult life depressed. Despite a strong faith in the Bible, in the God of the Bible, and in miracles, and despite the fact that I've experienced God doing a number of very positive things in my life, I've pretty much experienced what my Mom did. I have had some medical treatment for it. No, I never actually attempted suicide, nor have I ever been hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital or anything like that, but I have tremendous compassion for those who HAVE been. I feel like in many respects ..."I sat where they sat"... as it says in Ezekiel 3:15.

A number of people would probably find it strange that I've struggled SO much in this area because I can be SO humorous and silly. I'm frequently laughing and seeing the funny side of life. Sometimes my laughter is hard to control. I'm one of those people who has laughed during funerals, for instance. (NO, I never laughed during a funeral service that I CONDUCTED, thank God, but I HAVE been known to laugh during funerals!)

I honestly believe I have a biological predisposition to "seeing the glass as half empty rather than half full", however. For some reason, there's a very fine line between tragedy and comedy. The famous female Christian comedian Chonda Pierce can hold an audience CAPTIVE with her schtick. She's FUNNY! She does that whole southern Christian housewife thing and her enthusiastic audience just brings out the BEST in her comedy and entertainment. Yet, Chonda Pierce has been hospitalized...yes, in a psychiatric facility for deep depression. About a year ago, I watched a DVD of hers in which she discussed this. I know some Christians would probably have made very nasty remarks to and about her for what she said. Not me. I totally got it. Totally. She said that when she was hospitalized, she honestly believed her family would be better off without her and that she was genuinely suicidal.

I'm glad she publicly said what she did. When I heard it, it helped me. No, I've never ended up in the hospital nor "attempted" but I have also felt those feelings. In my own case, all my life I've been "different". I don't think the way OTHER people think. I just DON'T! My likes and dislikes and the way I perceive things are VERY different from most people! Things I consider appropriate or inappropriate are often at odds with most people. But, like Chonda, I also can hold an audience CAPTIVE! When I speak in public, I have an audience laughing and crying and in many cases, they'll NEVER forget what they've heard! Chonda and I have THAT same GIFT.

Now, in pastoring, my "gift" proved to be both a blessing and a curse. Most people really liked my public speaking, teaching, and persona, but often it just wasn't what was desired in a CHURCH LEADER...and ultimately that came back to bite me.

I remember that at the time the church I pastored closed, one guy said to me, "You must feel SO relieved that this is ALL over and than now you can move on!"

I know the person who said that meant well, but that was one of the worst things anybody could have said to me. You know, THAT statement brought me to some of my darkest moments of despair over the next year that I would walk through. It would be like saying to someone whose severely handicapped child just died, "Boy, I'll bet you're glad THAT'S over!"

No. Whatever "that" was, it was a major focus (or THE) major focus of your life for a long time, and its absence produces unimaginable grief.

The adage that sometimes it's better to NOT say anything is true.

An old Vacation Bible School song says, "I'm in-right, outright, upright, downright happy all the time!"

Nice, but it ain't true! It's not real.

Honestly, this has been kind of a difficult week for me. And it's NOT just due to my own problems and challenges. I've seen some nice people that I care about suffer some difficulties and pain this week. Yes, I've had my own set of problems, but then seeing and feeling the pain of others has just made it difficult for me to be "...in-right, outright, upright, downright happy all the time!" And, so, I guess in a sense, sadness can be good IF it produces an empathy that brings something helpful and positive.

Despite some of my low moments, I know I have been used in life as an encourager and a motivator. People tell me all the time of the POSITIVE difference I have made in their lives! And, ironically, my mother had more people at her funeral than did my father; and SO many talked about what a help and encouragement she was to them. THAT would have greatly surprised her!

So, on a kind of a sad morning for me, I wanted to share this.
I wrote the title, "TIMING, THOUGHT, AND THINGS" before I wrote the piece.

Perhaps it's a bit rambling, but I hope SOMEHOW it causes helpful reflection and action.

I was just about to try to change it, but you know what, I don't think I will! As Pilate said, "What I have written, I have written."

SLASHING & DASHING- TRADITION & HERITAGE

"For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled." (Matthew 5:18)

Professing followers of Jesus Christ have often heard that verse read, but probably most have not idea what a "jot" or "tittle" is. These were small punctuation marks used in Hebrew writing. When Jesus said that, it was kind of like us saying, "I want every t crossed and every i dotted!".

This may more some of you silly, and many will wonder WHY I would possibly address something as seemingly small and insignificant as a jot or tittle ... or dash or apostrophe ... on my blog.

I'm just been noticing something and I wonder if it's just me who is noticing this: In our very high tech cyber and digital age, outside of the technical jargon of a URL address setup, apostrophes, slashes,and other marks are starting to be DROPPED. This is even true of formal surnames and company names.

In the U.S., for decades, the official abbreviation for the Assemblies of God was:

A/G. (A forward slash G).

(In Australia and the U.K. it's usually abbreviated A.O.G.).

Americans in the Assemblies of God refer to the religious organization as the "A/G".
We were always taught that was the proper abbreviation. In all official correspondence and publicity of the Assemblies of God that was ALWAYS used. And, when Assemblies of God ministers wrote about the Assemblies of God they always abbreviated it as A/G. About ten years ago, I noticed in all official correspondence from the Springfield, Missouri headquarters, the abbreviation began to be published as:

AG. (A capital A immediately followed by a capital G and no slash in the middle.)

I have noticed that most Assemblies of God ministers and constituents over the age of fifty still use A/G. We were taught that abbreviation and we used it for decades, but it's changed.

I really think the reason for that is digital usage on line. The forward slash takes up extra room and can be confusing. In fact, when our old church was still around we had an e-mail address and it was:

agframingham@aol.com

And we had a website which is now defunct at"

www.agframingham.org

I deliberately did NOT use a slash in the abbreviation AG to avoid confusion.

Something that has REALLY SURPRISED me, though, it that PEOPLE ARE CHANGING HE WAY THEY SPELL THEIR LAST NAMES! I'm talking about names like O'Brien and O'Connell and
D'Ambra. In working at a telephone answering service and in taking messages which contain people's last names, I've been surprised that maybe half of people with these type last names now DROP the apostrophe in spelling them. That's also GOT TO be easier in creating e-mail addresses using those names or even websites using those names. I wonder if in another generation, those names will have gone through an evolution which will entirely eliminate the apostrophes. AND, for that matter, there are the names like MacDonald which have capital and small letters, and I'm finding those are now much more commonly appearing as all in the same "case" rather than some upper case letters and some lower case letters.

I wonder if I am the only one who notices this kind of "stuff". AND, if you have one of the type of last names I cite here, I'd be very interested in your comments.

THE MOOSE TEST

"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones." (Proverbs 17:22)

I've got a confession to make that may shock some folks. Despite the fact that for years I have been known as a news and current events junkie, and that for almost as many years I have been known as a political junkie, it's not even September yet and I'm totally sick of all the talking about the upcoming presidential election. Some of you know, that although I am a registered Republican, I'm sick of seeing all the "likes" for Romney and Ryan from many of my Facebook friends. (I'm even SICKER of all the "likes" for Obama and Biden from many of my other Facebook friends.) SO, this piece has nothing to do with politics and nothing to do with anything "heavy".

SOMETIMES WE'VE GOTTA LIGHTEN UP!

As I write, I'm listening to one of my favorite radio programs "streaming live" on the computer. It's the Public Radio International "word play" game show, "Says You". If you've never heard that before, it's a lot of fun, and if you listen you'll not only have fun but DEFINITELY learn some "stuff"! Now, LAST week around this time, as I was driving along Route 290 in Worcester County, they were doing an exercise on the show where a phrase would be given and the panelists would have to guess what PRODUCT was involved. The host came to the phrase,

"The Moose Test".

I kind of "cracked up"! I immediately know the answer to "The Moose Test".

Now, to be accurate, I did NOT get the answer that "Says You" wanted. THEIR answer was "Volvo". Apparently, "The Moose Test" was something that involved crashing a Volvo into a Moose...or at least into a stuffed moose.

I knew about another Moose test that comes from over fifty years ago!

Sometimes I've described my father, Eugene A. "Gene" Baril, as a very accomplished man and a very strict person. I've also described him as complicated. Gene Baril had a very FUNNY, SILLY, FUN LOVING side, too! "The Moose Test" goes back to his early days as a Mass. Registry of Motor Vehicles Inspector. (A "Registry Inspector" was a Registry Police office. Years later the name was changed to "Registry Police" and in the 1990s they were merged into the State Police.) Back in the 1950s and 1960s, the entry level Registry Inspectors were given the task of giving driver's license tests. Now, THIS was BEFORE the days of Learner's Permits. Since the mid-1960s, 16-year-lds have been able to take a written test to get their Learner's Permit. Then, after Driver's Ed. and at least six months, they can come to the Registry for their road test. In the pre-1965 days, your driver's license test consisted of BOTH an oral exam on the Driver's License manual to see if you understood the Mass. Motor Vehicle laws of driving, THEN you took your driving test a few minutes later.

One of the remote sites for driving test examinations was the Norwood Armory, an impressive stone building in downtown Norwood, MA. As Dad described it, the interior of the Armory in the area where the oral exams were given had a moose head mounted on the wall. Dad and his Registry Inspector buddies used to like to pull little pranks to break up the boredom. One thing they'd do is make up a bunch of ridiculous names, then in front of a group of terrified teens waiting to be examined, they'd announce people who apparently hadn't shown up that they were trying to locate.

"Marsha VanAllshott," Dad might billow out. "Marsha VanAllshott?! Is Marsha VanAllshott here?!"

"Sherman L. Sturdley," he'd add, "Where's Sherman L. Sturdley?".

The favorite fake name of Dad and his close friend Bill Mitchell was Stilianos Kerikledes. Each exam day, either Dad or Bill, depending upon whose turn it was would yell, "Stilianos Kerikledes!! Looking for Stilianos Kerikledes!!"

Now, the grand belly laugh of them all, however, was what Dad always said he'd do if he got a "really weird" applicant who was taking the oral exam. Dad promised his colleagues that IF he was examining a real weirdo, he would tell the person that the NEXT part of the exam was:

"The Moose Test".

He would then, in rapid fire fashion, announce that the moose test involved looking at the moose head on the wall and telling if the moose's eyes were BLINKING!

Dad said he'd seriously and firmly ask, "Is the moose's LEFT eye blinking?" followed by, "Is the moose's RIGHT eye blinking?"

Dad was convinced that a weirdo would absolutely say "YES" to each!

Well, the day came that a VERY strange WOMAN came up to take her driver's examination!
I'm not sure exactly how Dad determined she was very strange, but knowing him, part of it was that he could hardly get through asking the questions without laughing his head off.

After the initial oral exam, the big moment came.

Dad, making sure he was LOUD, announced to the woman, "Now for the next part of the test we have THE MOOSE TEST!"

Of course, his buddies dropped everything THEY were doing and stared, incredulously.

Firmly, loudly, and in an authoritative manner, Dad asked, "Is the moose's LEFT eye blinking?"

She immediately responded "Yes!"

Followed by, "Is the moose's RIGHT eye blinking?"

and another "Yes!"

You know, this is a story from over fifty years ago. I am not sure if the weird woman got her driver's license or not, but somehow I have a feeling that SHE PROBABLY DID!!