LEARNING TO DRIVE

My dad was a mechanic of sorts - probably out of necessity.  He always had some old jalopy he was working on.  

He also worked on neighbors' cars, motor cycles, mini-bikes, & g o-carts.   I was riding motorized vehicles at a young age, especially the go-carts.  So learning to drive was an easy transition.   I can remember sitting on my dad's lap before I could see over the steering wheel & "driving" as I turned the wheel.   My dad was obviously NOT safety conscience nor did he follow rules well.  I can also remember him having me shift the gears for him as he would wind the engine out & have me listen for the exact time to change gears.  Even though it probably wasn't the best parenting skills, it sure was fun!  Most of our cars had standard transmissions back then, so I first learned to shift the gears on the steering column.  As the "stick shift" became popular, it was much easier to find the gears.  My brother Dickie had an old Chevy Corvair.  He would let me work the stick shift & talk me through the timing of when to shift.  He would tell me to listen to the engine whine, push the clutch in, tell me which gear to put it in, then he would release the clutch & give it gas at the same time...I thought it was so exciting. 

We were all anxious to drive back then & dad always tried to have some beater car to drive when we got to be sixteen.  My car was a Chevy Nova.  It was baby yellow with black primer on the door (it had been in an accident & dad got a good deal on it) - my friends called it the "bruised banana."  It was a little 4 cylinder engine with no guts at all...but it got me there, most of the time.  I was a little disappointed because it was an automatic transmission...no stick!  I've been looking forward to putting my awesome driving skills to use & no stick!  Shucks, anyone can drive an automatic, there is NO challenge in that.   I got it a few months before my 16th birthday & when my parents were at work, I would drive it around the school (we lived across the street) & over to my friend’s house.  I thought I was cool.  Of course, the cars we drove weren't very reliable back then & dad couldn't afford to keep them all going & we couldn't afford to keep gas in them anyway...they usually ended up as "yard ornaments" - adding to the "poor white trash" look to the place.

Because our cars often needed work, we drove what was there.  I was able to drive a stick the first time I got behind the wheel of one...I only stalled a couple of times until I got the hang of it.  I did tend to ride the clutch a bit too much.  Having unreliable cars all the time, I learned to change spark plugs, check & add oil & transmission fluid, change tires, jump start a car (not with jumper cables, we couldn't afford those), but by pushing the car while it was in neutral & jumping in it to "pop the clutch" to get it started. Friends always wanted a ride somewhere & I never had gas money so I put a sign on my ashtray that said, "This car runs on gas, not friendship...donations welcome."

I learned to respect cars & not be reckless.  My brothers used to drive their cars on the frontage roads by the canals & pull a water-skier in the canal behind them.  They were dangerous!  We used to "cruise Chester Avenue" like you'd see in a scene from American Graffiti...of course, the really crazy ones would pile in a car after a football game with a couple of six packs & drive to LA (2 hours away) & watch the hookers & wine-os in action on Sunset Strip.  Some of these kids came home with wild stories of what they saw...some of these kids never came home.  My brother never came home.  Cars are to be properly maintained & respected - driven seriously & sober - they are not toys.