To get to the convenience store so my father can buy a pack of Winstons one particular overcast afternoon, I must stop, wait for a hole in oncoming traffic and drive a green Ford Courier pickup truck across a couple lanes into the parking lot, which involves me killing the engine a good half-dozen times.
In on the gas, out on the clutch, he says. He is patient, the oncoming drivers waiting for me are patient, I’m the only one getting upset.
It’s okay, he says. It’s okay. In on the gas, out on the clutch.
Immediately after that, last night in other words: a vast local parking lot. Or, the vastest I could find, anyway. Rain gathers on the horizon, moving closer. We have returned a couple DVDs to the rental place and how here we sit in my blue Mazda, under a light, to our left a discount furniture store, to our right a big hardware store.
Here, get in the driver’s seat, I say.
Clutch blah blah motor blah and most important blah the breaks, I say.
Where have I been all her life? I think.
Here, move the seat closer.
The clutch works like this, I say. I gesture in the dark.
Here put it in neutral and start her up, I say.
What happens if I give it too much gas? she asks.
We drive into the electronics store, I say.
In on the gas, I say.
Out on the clutch.
“Standing next to the mountain…”
Which version? Jimi’s of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s?
Beta is getting driving lessons from you?
Isn’t that… illegal?
Angelique Kidjo’s version:
http://www.amazon.com/Keep-Moving-Best-Angelique-Kidjo-Ang%C3%A9lique/dp/B00005JA28/ref=pd_bbs_sr_3/104-3330956-6647935?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1187775942&sr=8-3
If it’s not illegal for me to teach Beta to drive, it should be.
Our little lesson last night would be, technically, illegal, yes. Parents are allowed to teach their children to drive, once they have filled out the proper forms, which I shall eventually do. But this was more of an explanation, last night, and not a real lesson, despite the fact that she did, indeed, drive the car a few meters; besides, it was a parking lot and not a public street, despite the fakey little sign they have up stating that traffic laws apply.
pickup alla pieces make an islandah… might even RAISE a little saWEEEEEEE neener neener wow wahhh…
Ah yes–I remember teaching stick shift to OD. I finally realized that she was doing down with the gas, up with the clutch in sequence. Then I drove a bit myself and realized that it WAASN’T sequential–it was simultaneous.
Luckily, I remembered that when I taught YD. Last weekend YD haed been drafted to teach her neice (OGD) to drive stick.
I talked to YD the other day, so obviously she (at least) survived.
Such fun.
Ah yes–I remember teaching stick shift to OD. I finally realized that she was doing down with the gas, up with the clutch in sequence. Then I drove a bit myself and realized that it WASN’T sequential–it was simultaneous.
Luckily, I remembered that when I taught YD. Last weekend YD had been drafted to teach her niece (OGD) to drive stick.
I talked to YD the other day, so obviously she (at least) survived.
Such fun.
The day my dad took my training wheels off my bike, I proceeded to ride my bike – quite beautifully across the street. Then, in my excitement that I was able to stay upright, I forgot how to brake, and that I could turn, and I ran straight into the curb and flew ass over teakettle. For some reason, that story seemed related.
When it was time for my daughters to learn to drive, I traded in my Chevette with the stick shift and got a car with automatic transmission. (I was worried about them stalling the car while trying to make a left turn in the face of oncoming traffic). After they were licensed to drive, their boyfriends taught them how to drive cars with clutches. Worked out well for all of us!
This reminded me of two separate things. One is growing up on a dead end street that’s only out let was a level grade crossing across a state highway with no stoplight. I recall a few terrifying cases of stalling out the car while trying to engage the clutch rolling slowly across the highway hoping to get it going again before the approaching cars got too close.
It also reminds me of just this last week, letting my son drive me around with his learners permit.
The time between these two events sometimes appears to have been about 3 years instead of 30 years.