Thirroul's 68-Year-Old Punk Rocker Finally Gets His Driver's Licence
For decades, Phil Turnbull was a fixture of the inner-city rhythm, with his life dictated by public transport timetables and the generosity of friends. Back in the 1970s, as a member of Sydney's post-punk scene in bands like Voigt/465—a name inspired by a Sydney artist and a bus route—he never drove a car. The band relied on friends with cars and vans to lug their gear from venue to venue for gigs.
A Lifelong Passenger
When Mr Turnbull moved to the Illawarra in 1991, that car-free lifestyle followed him. He spent most of his adult life as a passenger, championing the ease of public transport for reading, listening to music, or sleeping. "When I was in my 20s there was a large array of my friends who didn't drive. We were all in the inner city and didn't need it," the former Surry Hills resident said.
In 1989, as a 32-year-old, he obtained his learner's licence but let it expire. In the late 1990s, he tried again but failed the computer test twice. Despite these setbacks, he continued to embrace public transport, finding it "actually quite easy" in his later years.
Breaking the Myth: New Tricks at 68
Finally, in 2023, Mr Turnbull got his learner's licence again and went on to pass his provisional licence on the first attempt. "I had a really good instructor, she was very steady ... I had lessons a couple of lessons each week," he explained. Now, at 68, he is "almost off his Ps," with only one occasion where someone mistakenly commented on the P-plate on his car.
These days, if you're driving around the northern Illawarra, you might spot the senior behind the wheel with a green plate displayed on his car. His journey offers a profound lesson about aging and independence, challenging the trope that driving is a rite of passage reserved for teenagers.
Rock Star with His Own Wheels
Mr Turnbull still plays "weirdo music" with synthesisers in the Illawarra band, A Slow Rip, but now he drives his own car to transport equipment and instruments to gigs. To him, having a car and a driver's licence is not a status symbol; it simply provides an easier way to do more things. "It's just a good tool. It allows me to go up to Corrimal a couple of times a week and do aqua aerobics," he said.
His partner is overjoyed by this change, as she always thought it was a pain that he couldn't drive. Beyond gigs and aqua aerobics, Mr Turnbull believes having the ability to drive may help him assist someone in need one day.
Next time you see a P-plate on the road, don't assume it's a teenager. It might just be Mr Turnbull ensuring he is ready for whatever the next verse of life brings.
