Truth vs. Fiction II

While at the family dinner described in the post below, Polackpappy did his usual embellishing. After sharing a Dr. Moo tale with one of the relations, he proudly said he had "taught all his children to drive standard."

Well, I wouldn't say taught, Pp.

My lesson went something like this: I was living on Martha's Vineyard one summer. He and Mcmumsy delivered a Nissan that they vomitously named "Old Whitey," for the love of god. Every frigging time I went to get in that car in front of them it was "Takin' Old Whitey out for a spin, are ya?" or "How's Old Whitey running?" Bleargh.

Anyhoo. While Mcmumsy stayed behind he drove me up a residential road in the middle of the island, put me in the driver's seat and said "It's all in the relationship between the clutch, the gas and the brake. You'll figure it out eventually." I drove for 10 minutes then he drove the Nissan back to the ferry, pulled over on the side of the road, got out, and handed me the keys.

I did figure out that relationship eventually but not before angering a lot of confused vacationing rich people in stop and go traffic.