In the last week, I have three times had people who have known me for years say, "Really! I never knew that about you!" It never occurred to me that someone would say that, considering that I am always rattling on about this and that and the other thing. So, purely for the hell of it and purely because I have about 15 minutes to kill before the
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Comments 15
And the stick shift I like. I don't like driving an automatic. Stick shifts give you something to do except just looking around and steering.
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When we bought our second car together, we insisted on a manual transmission. This would be our "sensible" car, and multiple people tried to talk us out of it. "Your options would be wider if you were willing to look at automatics." "It's so much easier to drive an automatic." We got what we wanted, and every time I have to deal with the black ice we get this time of year, I remember these conversations and am happy we insisted on getting a manual.
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I don't see anyone with an automatic doing that!
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After all, the only time a young child sees one, it's being worn by someone at a hospital or clinic - usually by some ancient old man, to whom your mother is being uncommonly reverential (doctors seem to expect this as their due) - who is ultimately going to poke and prod at you, take your temperature (most likely with the dreaded anal thermometer), examine and pass judgement on you, prescribe a regimen of nasty tasting medicines and syrups, perhaps adding the order that your mother rub Vick's mentholated petroleum jelly all over your chest before putting you to bed - and then, ALWAYS end with that most fiendish of tortures, an assault on your helpless arms with nasty, hurtful NEEDLES, either to inject you with some unholy substance (who knows...perhaps meat tenderizer!), or to steal some of your precious blood, as a sacrifice.
The horror! The HORROR!
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