Ok, this whole slow thing is driving me crazy! Or, as Drew would put it, more like a short walk. Either way, this is not how I like to spend my day. So, I blog.
How, when, and where did you learn to drive? Any funny memories of that day?
I remember the first time Dad let me drive. We had a Mitsubishi Truck, stick shift, and Dad asked me to go to the landfill with him. Of course, being an almost 16 y/o girl, I had MUCH better things to do, but he insisted. On the way back, he pulled into a large open field. "What are you doing?" "Well, you're going to drive." That's where he attempted to teach me the concept of a clutch. I'm not sure if he discussed doing this with Mom or not, but they also insisted that I be able to drive a stick shift without spilling a glass of water set on the dash. At the time, I was convinced it was an impossible task! And, while the NCDMV didn't require parallel parking, Dad sure did! Also, they were certain that I needed to be able to drive our 78 VW bus. Have you tried one of those? Dad's theory was that if you can handle a stick on a VW, you can drive anything. It's another case of, "They were right." Fast forward a few years, and the parents decide that I'M going to teach Brad how to drive. Yeah. Me. Brad. Brad with the ADD/Hyperactivity, gonna figure out how to drive a VW stick. Guess what? Didn't happen. In fact, we did something to it that had it all screwed up and Dad had to come tow it home! We had that VW nearly my entire life. I cried when I found out that they sold it! While I acted like I didn't want to drive it, it was FUN to drive! I could load up all of my friends, their friends, coupla dogs, and be on our way. In fact, we drove the VW to a singles conference once. Me, Mendi, Kathi, and . . . . Sammi, maybe? Man, this memory thing gets harder and harder. All I remember was that there was no radio in the VW, so Kathi brought a boom box along. It was awesome times . . .
Of course, driving was cool and all that, but I still wasn't "allowed" initially out on my own. Mom or Dad would meet me after work, and if all went my way, I could drive home. Dad was really cool about it - he'd put the passenger seat down and "sleep" on the way. Only later did I realize that he was actually praying, not sleeping! Mom, as mom's are allowed to do, tended to be a little more, er, high strung. I don't even remember the first time I got to go somewhere on my own. You would think that this would be one of those "moments" that you remember, but this sure wasn't one of them.
My first car, that was mine, was a 74 Chevy Malibu. 64k original miles, and I sold that thing for $400. I had no idea what I had. It was the hoop-ti-mo-bile, and the first time I tried to put gas in it, I walked around that stupid thing half a dozen times before some kind hearted man came to see if he could help. My friend couldn't figure it out either! Who the heck puts a GAS tank BEHIND the license plate?!?!? I hadn't ever heard of such a creature. I was convinced that with the exception of a gauge inside, my car obviously didn't need fuel. Still remember the gas station: A Maverick in Rexburg. My friend and I were headed to Yellowstone, and thought that we were just all that, cool and stuff. As we got to Yellowstone, there was this horrendous knocking/bubble-ing sound coming from under the hood. The sign at the local repair shop said "$50 to pop the hood, non-negotiable." To a couple of college girls? Outrageous! Still, what were we going to do? I laid on the southern belle, batting of the eye lashes, and the mechanic took pity. Did you know that radiator caps need to actually fit on TIGHTLY? He laughed, tightened it up, and no, didn't charge me the $50.
What about you? First time stories re: your vehicles? Any special memories? I've always had adventures with vehicles . . . but I'll same something else for another day!
Quote:
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." -Josh Billings
How, when, and where did you learn to drive? Any funny memories of that day?
I remember the first time Dad let me drive. We had a Mitsubishi Truck, stick shift, and Dad asked me to go to the landfill with him. Of course, being an almost 16 y/o girl, I had MUCH better things to do, but he insisted. On the way back, he pulled into a large open field. "What are you doing?" "Well, you're going to drive." That's where he attempted to teach me the concept of a clutch. I'm not sure if he discussed doing this with Mom or not, but they also insisted that I be able to drive a stick shift without spilling a glass of water set on the dash. At the time, I was convinced it was an impossible task! And, while the NCDMV didn't require parallel parking, Dad sure did! Also, they were certain that I needed to be able to drive our 78 VW bus. Have you tried one of those? Dad's theory was that if you can handle a stick on a VW, you can drive anything. It's another case of, "They were right." Fast forward a few years, and the parents decide that I'M going to teach Brad how to drive. Yeah. Me. Brad. Brad with the ADD/Hyperactivity, gonna figure out how to drive a VW stick. Guess what? Didn't happen. In fact, we did something to it that had it all screwed up and Dad had to come tow it home! We had that VW nearly my entire life. I cried when I found out that they sold it! While I acted like I didn't want to drive it, it was FUN to drive! I could load up all of my friends, their friends, coupla dogs, and be on our way. In fact, we drove the VW to a singles conference once. Me, Mendi, Kathi, and . . . . Sammi, maybe? Man, this memory thing gets harder and harder. All I remember was that there was no radio in the VW, so Kathi brought a boom box along. It was awesome times . . .
Of course, driving was cool and all that, but I still wasn't "allowed" initially out on my own. Mom or Dad would meet me after work, and if all went my way, I could drive home. Dad was really cool about it - he'd put the passenger seat down and "sleep" on the way. Only later did I realize that he was actually praying, not sleeping! Mom, as mom's are allowed to do, tended to be a little more, er, high strung. I don't even remember the first time I got to go somewhere on my own. You would think that this would be one of those "moments" that you remember, but this sure wasn't one of them.
My first car, that was mine, was a 74 Chevy Malibu. 64k original miles, and I sold that thing for $400. I had no idea what I had. It was the hoop-ti-mo-bile, and the first time I tried to put gas in it, I walked around that stupid thing half a dozen times before some kind hearted man came to see if he could help. My friend couldn't figure it out either! Who the heck puts a GAS tank BEHIND the license plate?!?!? I hadn't ever heard of such a creature. I was convinced that with the exception of a gauge inside, my car obviously didn't need fuel. Still remember the gas station: A Maverick in Rexburg. My friend and I were headed to Yellowstone, and thought that we were just all that, cool and stuff. As we got to Yellowstone, there was this horrendous knocking/bubble-ing sound coming from under the hood. The sign at the local repair shop said "$50 to pop the hood, non-negotiable." To a couple of college girls? Outrageous! Still, what were we going to do? I laid on the southern belle, batting of the eye lashes, and the mechanic took pity. Did you know that radiator caps need to actually fit on TIGHTLY? He laughed, tightened it up, and no, didn't charge me the $50.
What about you? First time stories re: your vehicles? Any special memories? I've always had adventures with vehicles . . . but I'll same something else for another day!
Quote:
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." -Josh Billings
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