My father’s face

Last week I found my license from 2002. I wonder what it is in me that wants to look like an absolute serial killer for official photos.

When I was a kid, my dad used to drive as fast as he could wherever he went. This meant that cops would regularly put their lights on and follow, to which he had one of two responses.

His first response was to outrun them. I found this out when, as a young father wrestling with the nightmare of installing a car seat (iykyk), I asked my mother if I ever had a car seat as a child. I assumed the answer would be no, because I remember crawling all over the back of my parent’s Volvo wagon while in transit.

My mom never glamorizes my dad’s bad behavior, so I took her at her word when she said: “Yes, you had a car seat, but I only put you in it when your father was running from the police.”

My dad’s second response was to pull over, get out of the car, and walk back and confront the officer in his car. I don’t know what occurred back there, but I don’t remember him getting very many speeding tickets.

I’ve seen my dad threaten cops, seen him dare them to use their guns. I’ve seen him back down state troopers and local sheriffs, watched in awe as they got back into their cars and drove away.

There’s something of my dad in that face I’m pulling. I was never a golden gloves champion or legendary street fighter like he was, but maybe something in me thinks that bringing out a bit of John Durham in a driver’s license photo will make a cop think twice.

This is ridiculous, of course. Whatever it was that allowed my dad to get away with all of that — the 70s/80s small town Idaho cultural warp — has long passed.

I even tried to look like a nice guy in my recent Mexico Residency card photo. I ended up looking demented, like a lunatic trying to get a job as a crossing guard.

I guess I just have resting serial killer face. Unfortunately, it will never be enough to get me out of speeding tickets.

#genx #driverslicense #generationx