I am right in the middle of parent taught driving lessons. It’s not for the faint of heart! I don’t want to brag or anything but I taught my now college graduate son to drive. And so far he has no tickets or wrecks. (Knock on wood!)
The only advice I can offer is be patient and use the heck out of the handle bar on the passenger’s side! I think they are called “Oh, Jesus” handles or other things that aren’t G rated! Me and that handlebar are very acquainted these days!
Do you know how I learned to drive? Well, besides the class in high school back in the good old days when you took driving lessons in public school.
My mad driving skills came when my daddy tossed me the keys to his manual drive Datsun pick up truck. We were usually at the airport on Sunday afternoons because my dad flew a plane as a hobby. It still is a little bitty airport. They used to mow the runway with my grandpa’s tractor! We affectionately referred to it as the “Kilgore International Airport.” My daddy would have to fly to Gregg County Airport for gas in his plane which we loved because they had a vending machine. Now, that was a big, fancy airport in our eyes. The Kilgore International Airport only had a coke machine.
Do you now have an idea of just how small it was?
He told me, ” just pull over to the side when you see a plane coming in for a landing!”
I can’t begin to tell you how many times I drove up and down the runway shifting that manual drive truck! All the while looking up to see if I needed to pull over! And the sound of grinding gears wafting through the air for the neighboring cows and siblings to enjoy! I am pretty sure my dad had developed noise canceling hearing at the point in his life of driver training his children. He never reacted to my, um, shifting gears. He knew I would eventually had to get the hang of it.
He also made us learn how to change the oil and a flat tire before he handed over the keys. I can still do either of these in case of emergency. But who wants to get dirty when you have Triple A?
My very first car was a mustard green 4 door Datsun B 210. It always back fired when I shifted from 3rd to 4th gear. I thought it was a thing of beauty. It meant being a grown up and freedom!
We really didn’t have much say in our car choice. It all depended on who was ready to hand down the next car to the sibling that was about to drive. And if our dad was in the mood to look for another one in the Thrifty Nickel magazine. I can’t even imagine having 9 kids and keeping them supplied with cars.
It was always like a used car lot in our driveway.
It wouldn’t be long until I graduated to my mom’s old Datsun 200SX. This is when I thought I had really arrived! My dad never bought new cars until the sporty 200sx. You never forgot your first new car smell and to ride in this new car with my mom felt like heaven. She drove it back and forth to work in Arlington while working on her PhD. He bought it from a dealership in Longview and swore he would never buy a new car again. It robbed him of his thrill of finding a bargain in the Thrifty Nickel. I had it handed down to me after mom had driven too many miles in her commute.
It wouldn’t be long until I could give him a chance to find a replacement. I had my first wreck as a teenager and hit a parked car!
I can’t even blame it on texting. I was reaching for something on the floorboard. I guess pulling over never occurred to me!
So my dad, the full time doctor and part time used car buyer, went off on another hunt for a good deal on a a used car.
I felt so guilty about wrecking the fancy car that I bought my own car before he had a chance to find one. I drove to Dallas with my friend Leanna and bought a 1971 VW Super Beetle convertible with a white top.
It was $ 2500 of my hard earned money and I bought it without even looking at the engine! It was pretty and a convertible. Isn’t that all you need to do? Well, it was to my 18 year old self!
To say my dad was shocked was an understatement. I drove it up the long driveway to the look of sheer panic in my dad’s eyes! It would take me awhile to realize that old cars needed a lot of fixing and that meant money.
I kept it a few years and dad would pay to fix the next thing that was wrong with it as I left for college. And he never told me what a big mistake it was to buy something without having it inspected by a mechanic. That was true love from your daddy.
But I learned that lesson when I started to pay for those repairs on my own.
I still miss that car. Her name was Penelope. I drove it around my small town and cruised too many lakes in East Texas to mention. My girlfriends that rode with me around town didn’t have a care in the world! Well, except maybe our hair blowing too much in the wind. I mean Aquanet can only hold so much together back in the day!
Sigh.
I am now logging the dates for my daughter’s parent taught drives around town. I am researching what her first car might be and praying the used car prices will come back down to reality by the time she is legal to drive.
Of course, I want a back up camera, bumper warning lights, the latest safety features and about 800 airbags!
Does the army surplus store sell tanks? Can you get a deal on one?! Why, not?
Maybe I should check the Thrifty Nickel!
And until then, I am going to savor every moment with my student driver. I know it won’t be long before she passes her test and is off on her own with a car full of girlfriends and her new found sense of freedom!
I just hope and pray that she always knows she can always drive back home, even if she takes the long way.
Stay Sassy Y’all.
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