tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post8748306716030352621..comments2024-03-28T21:31:13.672-04:00Comments on Jungle Red Writers: Driving LessonsJungle Red Writershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16646429819267618412noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-53486885744995581752015-06-04T19:19:17.038-04:002015-06-04T19:19:17.038-04:00I would like to learn how to drive a stick shift. ...I would like to learn how to drive a stick shift. Thankfully, I have basic driving skills. Would a driving school ever teach manual transmission driving only? I'm saving up for my dream car and it is a manual transmission.<br /> <a href="http://www.americandrivingacademy.com/product-category/classroom-courses/aurora-denver-classes/" rel="nofollow">http://www.americandrivingacademy.com/product-category/classroom-courses/aurora-denver-classes/</a>Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12921074560910247042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-31379259280942013762015-01-22T15:18:49.722-05:002015-01-22T15:18:49.722-05:00Our first son in about to get his learners permit....Our first son in about to get his learners permit. We are a little nervous about that because he has not had any experience with driving. So we are looking for tips on driving lessons and how we can help him to develop to become a good driver. <a href="http://www.brightsdrivingschool.com/driving-lessons/" rel="nofollow"> http://www.brightsdrivingschool.com/driving-lessons/</a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-45627597196726240722014-08-25T01:21:47.009-04:002014-08-25T01:21:47.009-04:00Hee hee. Heck no, Lucy, it was not a sports car w...Hee hee. Heck no, Lucy, it was not a sports car with 2 seats. A Honda Civic with 2 doors (3 counting the late lamented hatchback). You know -- flip the front seat forward and crawl into the back seat. Not so great when all your friends are counting the months until the pension plan kicks in.<br /><br />Susan Dhttp://www.destevenson.orgnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-37052270823803688092014-08-24T00:45:07.034-04:002014-08-24T00:45:07.034-04:00Oh…Storytellermary… I think the Testy Tester just ...Oh…Storytellermary… I think the Testy Tester just wasn't very bright. Picture having an 18-year-old do a hill stop on a very steep city hill that was coated with a sheet of ice—while it was snowing out. Don't you think?Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-82834536007510343322014-08-23T20:28:57.387-04:002014-08-23T20:28:57.387-04:00Reine, I think you win meanest tester . . . I didn...<br />Reine, I think you win meanest tester . . . I didn't get a license until Prudential asked me to switch from secretary to sales agent -- the bus wouldn't work for that. My co-workers and my then-husband worked together to teach me, church parking lots, the State Fair grounds . . . My first test was dismal, but the second try brought me a calmer, positive test-giver. Parallel parking on a hill was my hardest part, but I did it . . . and eventually left sales for teaching in St. Louis, which also would not have worked depending on buses. I second the motion for drivers . . . or better public transport.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-77962906604874479982014-08-22T17:47:40.032-04:002014-08-22T17:47:40.032-04:00My mother didn't get her license until I was i...My mother didn't get her license until I was in Fourth Grade. This was difficult for both of my parents, because Mom couldn't do the grocery shopping without Dad, couldn't take us kids to the doctor, etc, unless Dad took time off from work. Eventually, he started to do all the grocery shopping, and we kids LOVED that, because he was an impulse shopper and came home with more things that we shouldn't have been eating, but that sure tasted good!<br /><br />I picked up Mom's nervousness about learning to drive, and when I was old enough to learn I was too scared to give it a try. By the time I was in high school we lived in a downtown neighborhood, and I could walk to most places I wanted to go to. In college I finally learned, during summer vacation. My dad tried to teach me. He was a nervous wreck, and was convinced I'd get us in an accident. His reactions made ME even more anxious than I already was. He'd already had one heart attack by then and I think he was afraid he might have another one from trying to teach me to drive! I was actually a good student but I "caught" his nervousness, and my mind would go blank. He finally decided I should be taught by someone from a local driving school. Knowing Dad, I wouldn't be surprised if he asked the school if the teachers had healthy hearts! With strangers as teachers, I felt relaxed. I eventually LOVED driving, drove to all sorts of places, went out for weekend drives just for fun, until I had a job that had me on the road all over the western part of the state for much of the week. I now work three miles from home and avoid driving out of town unless it's absolutely necessary. Too many years spent sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic took the fun out of driving for me.Deb Romanonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-57912529747195293962014-08-22T16:55:39.447-04:002014-08-22T16:55:39.447-04:00Humiliating at the time Reine, but such an amazing...Humiliating at the time Reine, but such an amazingly funny story now:). I remember having to go back to school with the news that I'd failed...awful!<br /><br />and ps Susan, I know you meant "Lucy" but when someone has a story with German shepherds in it, we all think of Debs:)Lucy Burdette aka Roberta Isleibhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04660402177299546055noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-41199995002248397632014-08-22T16:27:18.570-04:002014-08-22T16:27:18.570-04:00Great story, Reine!!Great story, Reine!!Deborah Crombiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16988750789088153601noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-80261314630781082412014-08-22T16:23:00.036-04:002014-08-22T16:23:00.036-04:00Lucy, I had my first driving test in Massachusetts...Lucy, I had my first driving test in Massachusetts in February. I was living with my grandparents in Dorchester, and they sent me for driving lessons near the Longwood Medical Area. An indication as to their confidence in me?<br /><br />There was snow on the ground and more falling. A thick layer of ice covered the streets, and the testy tester had me drive up—anyone from Boston?—Parker Hill. Just before the curve at New England Baptist Hospital he said, "Do a hill stop."<br /><br />I pulled on the emergency brake. Shifted to neutral. Gave it gas. Eased up on the clutch till it hit purgatory. Released the emergency brake. We slid backwards down Parker Hill Road, avoiding ambulances, delivery trucks, and taxi cabs all the way to Huntington Ave where the car swung around and the two left wheels lodged in the Green Line trolley tracks facing toward Brigham and Women's Hospital.<br /><br />Very calmly and with perfect reserve Testy Tester said, "Let me off at The Brigham ER. Get out of the car. Sit in the waiting room, and don't move. I'll call Mr. Harrington."<br /><br />My grandfather showed up about an hour later. He drove over to Dunkies and bought a couple dozen donuts to bring home. We sat at the kitchen table while aunts and uncles and cousins filed in with more donuts from Dunkies. Everyone had a miserable driving test story. A few had stories about "borrowing" cars. Bad tickets. Fixed tickets. The proposed law that to make fixing tickets illegal. "Let them try that one," from the mouth of Uncle Tommy Troy, then cop/future criminal attorney (RIP, Tommy). <br /><br />It was another two years, and I was 18 before I got my license. Auntie-Mom says Tommy and the uncles put the kibosh on it ever happening before then. Thank you— Tommy. Kevin. Happy. Thad. Dan. Jim. Sully. Philip. Bill. Jack. Kelly. Wee Ball. Paddy. And Paul.Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-36595620566192878952014-08-22T15:37:34.909-04:002014-08-22T15:37:34.909-04:00These are great stories! Debs, inspired choice of ...These are great stories! Debs, inspired choice of topic.Susan Elia MacNealhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00349842866995778987noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-31370289266620380462014-08-22T15:15:18.304-04:002014-08-22T15:15:18.304-04:00Deb, I've always wondered about driving the le...Deb, I've always wondered about driving the left-handed shift, and on the other side of the road. It was hard enough for my husband and me together to stay on the left in Australia, and that was an automatic rental car. <br /><br />Tammy, your comment about the 2-foot throw reminded me of why Hondas were so popular with women. Built for smaller people, they had short-throw shift columns, and they were so much easier to drive. <br /><br />Our youngest daughter, a brilliant young woman (seriously, she had a PhD in microbiology just after she turned 26, and never paid a dime for her education), had the toughest time figuring out the clutch. Over and over again we watched as she jerked around one parking lot after another, never seeming to get it. Finally a boyfriend was able to give her the key to the smooth movement, somehow. Karen in Ohionoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-53314072112749226522014-08-22T15:12:01.110-04:002014-08-22T15:12:01.110-04:00I'm so enjoying reading all the tales about le...I'm so enjoying reading all the tales about learning to drive.<br />I was 14 & a freshman in HS. Our drivers ed teacher insisted on a stick shift vehicle for the class. He said anyone could drive an automatic but we needed to know how to drive a stick shift in case of an emergency.<br />I had a bit of trouble with parallel parking & still hate to do it. I amazed myself once by perfectly parallel parking my husband's huge pickup truck on the first try.Jodyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17875883473433798682noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-40979707811408017312014-08-22T14:53:19.407-04:002014-08-22T14:53:19.407-04:00As I've been immersed in Tammy's books--sh...As I've been immersed in Tammy's books--she's up on JRW next week, Yay!!--I've really been missing driving a high-performance car. But those don't suit big dogs, groceries, garden stuff, and big city traffic. Sigh.<br /><br />More on my crazy dad: The first time my parents took me to England, my dad rented a Mini-Cooper at Heathrow Airport and we set off across the English countryside on the (to us) wrong side of the road. What WAS he thinking? He must have had great confidence in my driving abilities. My mom never did drive in the UK. (Thank goodness. She was a terrible driver...)<br /><br />Funnily enough, I've never had trouble with the left-handed shift in the UK, and I think the most fun I've ever had driving was the time I was doing research for a book set in the Scottish Highlands and I hired a red Honda Accord Sport (similar to the two-door coupe Honda sells in the US, I think, but sportier.) I spent two weeks driving twisty up and down roads in the Scottish moors with hardly another car on the road--just plenty of sheep. It was a blast!Deborah Crombiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16988750789088153601noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-84917512267196959672014-08-22T14:46:05.657-04:002014-08-22T14:46:05.657-04:00Sadly, my parents didn't own a stick shift and...Sadly, my parents didn't own a stick shift and I still can't drive one. I learned to drive at 16 on a 15 passenger commuter van. My father bought it used for cheap so we could take it on long road trips. When I took my driving test, the DMV worker's eyes bugged out and he said, "You're driving that!?" Luckily, he didn't ask me to parallel park. He told my dad that since I could drive that van, I could drive anything. Of course I was humiliated driving it in high school. Imagine me at 5 ft 2 inches falling out of that van in my cheerleading uniform while my friend gracefully exited her shiny red brand new Mustang purchased for her 16th birthday. But it was better than nothing and I was able to drive myself to the library. Such freedom!Melodie Tnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-49864547479022721212014-08-22T13:41:32.082-04:002014-08-22T13:41:32.082-04:00I learned to drive from my father (before I was dr...I learned to drive from my father (before I was driving the car, though, I had experience driving tractor). Anyway, the car was an International Harvester "Scout" -- sort of a jeep/truck thing. And,of course, standard transmission.<br />I drove it into a ditch once, and failed the test the first time -- I had to parallel park on a hill, and the brake didn't hold. <br />Where I lived, getting access to the car was a LIFELINE! I was highly motivated.Denise Annhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02790883493798517829noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-9403763256880701002014-08-22T12:28:07.861-04:002014-08-22T12:28:07.861-04:00I learned to drive on a stick and I still remember...I learned to drive on a stick and I still remember my dad and I yelling at each other in the parking lot outside of Boscov's Department Store because I could not get the hang of the clutch! <br /><br />From there I went on to drive a VW Bug with a semi-automatic (two of them, actually, because the first was totaled in an accident that I still claim was not my fault!).Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07754229648422848542noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-20619785323826996852014-08-22T12:17:48.422-04:002014-08-22T12:17:48.422-04:00In Montana, one could take drivers' ed at age ...In Montana, one could take drivers' ed at age 14 1/2, in the summer. In the early 80s they still showed those old black and white films of crashes, remember those? My driving teacher was one of the football coaches (yikes), Skip Anderson. To this day, I remember practice driving downtown, I was to make a right hand turn. The pedestrian on the corner obviously saw the "STUDENT DRIVER" sign and motioned me to go ahead and he would wait. Mr Anderson slammed on his brake and yelled "YOU. NEVER. DRIVE. IN. FRONT. OF. A. PEDESTRIAN!!" Lesson learned. Really. We could get our actual license upon turning 15, so on a snowy November day my mom let me get out school to take the written test and then the driving test which in winter consisted of pulling out, turning right four times (yes around the block) and parallel parking. You should have seen the grin on my face returning to Mr. Lee's science class -- one of the first students of our class to be able to drive. :) <br /><br />I currently drive an SUV I call Moby Dick; we have two big dogs. One dog rides in the middle and one in the way back and neither the twain shall mingle by their own choosing. <br />PK the Bookeemonsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03478996122841311684noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-41497863093153713602014-08-22T11:48:11.346-04:002014-08-22T11:48:11.346-04:00I learned to drive in a station wagon only slightl...I learned to drive in a station wagon only slightly smaller than the one Lucy/Roberta describes. Mine was a 1972 Volvo wagon, and its stick shift was about 2 feet long. A lot of throw (distance) in that shift pattern! But, like Debs, I was somehow also a savant in parallel parking. <br /><br />I've always loved driving a manual, except for the time my mother made me drive across San Francisco (stoplights on hills) in one. (I required a drink after our successful arrival.) But these days, I quite enjoy an automatic and a comfortable cruiser of a car.<br /><br />Of course, all the racecars are manual, and to the manual, you have to add the ability to heel-and-toe downshift, which ... greatly adds to the complication level!Tammyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01033264133869966636noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-88629499241823335062014-08-22T11:38:36.664-04:002014-08-22T11:38:36.664-04:00Kathy Reel, that's funny. I was the oldest of ...Kathy Reel, that's funny. I was the oldest of four. i didn't get my own car, but I got to borrow my parents' cars whenever I wanted. The price tag? Shuttling my three younger brothers and sister to their activities. =)Liz Millironhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04919409969263609919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-52302838261090728152014-08-22T11:30:54.162-04:002014-08-22T11:30:54.162-04:00I am so impressed with all you stick shift drivers...I am so impressed with all you stick shift drivers. I've always felt a little under-achieved not learning to drive one. When choosing our first car to buy together, my husband suggested we buy a stick shift. I confessed I didn't know how to drive one, and he said it was easy and we'd test drive one. After once around the block with me floundering in my attempts to drive the stick, he announced that we should probably get an automatic after all.<br /><br />In getting my license, I was not the eager beaver that I should have been. With everything else, I jumped in and wanted to be the best, but for some reason, driving didn't interest me all that much. Thankfully, my next-to-oldest sister insisted that I learn to drive and was generous enough to let me do so on her snazzy cream-yellow Mustang. She also made me go take the driving test, for which I probably wasn't well enough prepared, but I passed it the first time, not with flying colors, but I passed. I actually liked parallel parking, and I still do to this day. <br /><br />I was the youngest of four kids in my family, and I'm sure that my father rejoiced when I got my license. My mother didn't drive, and so my father was our chauffeur, and I was involved in lots of school activities. His buying me a used Ford LTD was probably less a gift to me than it was to himself. Kathy Reelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17004247271452356577noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-27536729714231991282014-08-22T11:30:02.841-04:002014-08-22T11:30:02.841-04:00My best stories are not about my learning to drive...My best stories are not about my learning to drive, but teaching my son. For the entire 16 years of his life to that point, my husband had been the more patient, easygoing parent. But when it came time to learn to drive, they went out together on exactly two occasions. The first went badly, the second worse. When they came in from that outing, it was hard to say which appeared more traumatized. I took over and to everyone's surprise, including my own, I was pretty good at this. He passed his test on the first try and has been driving uneventfully (well, save one little fender-bender in high school) for five years now. And my husband can still barely stand to ride with him.Susanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08292993485984273172noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-56367495375894465182014-08-22T11:20:54.628-04:002014-08-22T11:20:54.628-04:00Sudden flashback: I am at the HQ of the Democratic...Sudden flashback: I am at the HQ of the Democratic Party of Wisconsin in the summer of 1964. A young Les Aspin (later the Secretary of Defense, but then just another Yalie friend) tosses me his keys and says, "Can you move my VW so I don't get a ticket?" "Sure," I say, and then I realize it has a stick shift, and I can't get it out of the parking space. <br /><br />Four years later, once I have learned to drive the stick shift on my own VW (see earlier post), I am at my grandmother's, looking out the window, watching my younger brother, who has just gotten his license, trying to get MY VW out of a parking space. I see it lurch forward and then back. I remember how embarrassed I was when I couldn't move Les's car. I am extremely amused at my brother's predicament. Ellen Kozaknoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-11406163897851321622014-08-22T10:51:56.872-04:002014-08-22T10:51:56.872-04:00This brings back memories. When I lived on the Ea...This brings back memories. When I lived on the East Coast, I visited a couple of friends (wife/husband) in Virginia about 30 miles from Charlottesville.<br /><br />The husband taught driving at the private boarding school for boys. He was very patient with me. He tried to teach me how to drive a Woody. I think it was a Ford Woody from the 1980s. I am still laughing because I went around in Reverse a few times then I stopped. <br /><br />Then I did not drive again until I went to a driving school where they had cars with difficult steering wheels. But the good thing is that I got to practice driving early in the morning in the parking lot. I practiced driving the family Volvo. It was EASY for me to drive the Volvo.<br /><br />After I failed the first driving test when the examiner made a mistake and I also forgot to stop at a Stop Sign in the rickety car, I decided to take the driver's test at a different place where my cousins took their tests. Good thing I could take the test in the family Volvo and the examiner was smart and focused. I passed and got my driver's license!<br /><br />For me, some cars are easier to drive than others.<br />Bionic Photographyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07959748544900440431noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-17418445094559451682014-08-22T10:48:01.734-04:002014-08-22T10:48:01.734-04:00You are so right Hallie, in fact Hank is rarely ON...You are so right Hallie, in fact Hank is rarely ON the farm!<br /><br />Jim, laughing at that story...I'm still no champion at backing up. He was a smart man, your father!<br /><br />FChurch, another cemetery driver--who knew?<br /><br />Ellen--you are remarkably loyal to your cars:)Lucy Burdette aka Roberta Isleibhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04660402177299546055noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-80110734676113215512014-08-22T10:28:25.787-04:002014-08-22T10:28:25.787-04:00My mother was of a generation that thought it was ...My mother was of a generation that thought it was a big deal, and very liberated, when a woman learned to drive-- and I think she was always a little afraid of driving the rest of her life. She had a '53 Dodge with a stick shift, and she took me, without any preamble, onto a country road the summer I turned 16. I promptly drove it into a ditch. <br /><br />Then I took a couple of lessons from a driving school, on a car with an automatic shift, and took the test that fall, knowing I would flunk it because everyone in the suburb nearest our home did so the first time. The thing was, I didn't want to take it a second time. <br /><br />But my grandmother got a new car that year and parked her '53 Mercury sedan in back of our house and said it was mine once I got my license. All that winter, I'd go running for the bus stop and think, if I had my license, I could take the car. Once the ice melted, my grandmother took me out driving a number of times (SHE wasn't afraid of her car, not at all! She'd learned to drive in her fifties, after my grandfather died, and loved the independence). <br /><br />I passed the test just before my seventeenth birthday, and that summer my five best friends and I LIVED in that car. It was the summer we nerds got to pretend to be the kind of kids we saw in the movies about "cool" teenagers. I loved that summer, loved those friends, loved that car-- and then I went to college in NYC, where no one drove (I have New York friends who to this day have never learned). <br /><br />The engine fell out of the Merc while I was away at college, and from then on, I only got to drive when I could borrow a car from my mom or my grandmother. But the summer after my first year of law school, I bought a car from a junkyard because there were race riots in our city and I didn't want to be caught somewhere waiting for a bus. That car-- loaded with furniture, dishes, clothes and books-- died en route to Madison (my parents came in both their cars to haul my stuff to school), and because I had taken an apartment off campus on the strength of having the junker, I needed transportation. <br /><br />So my father bought me Hermione, the candy-apple red VW Beetle whose stick shift I learned to drive in fifteen minutes (the salesman taught me). I drove that car all over Wisconsin and all over the country for the next 11 years. Eventually it had daisy stickers all over one fender. I was brokenhearted when it threw a rod and died. <br /><br />I am on my third car since, after a white Honda wagon whose name was The Enterprise and a nameless gold Dodge Neon. I waited an extra year before buying my current, much-beloved 1994 Colt Vista Wagon so it would have an air bag and ABS brakes. (Yes, I keep cars a loooooong time.) I love this one because it fits into a compact space, but is very roomy inside (and can haul furniture and gardening supplies and 8-foot boards). And do you know how hard it is to find a car that has roll-down (not power) windows AND a/c? This car has an automatic transmission, but even after 20 years, I still find myself reaching for the stick at stop signs. Ellen Kozaknoreply@blogger.com