How can you stand driving around like that knowing some cheese-head engineer decided what gear you should be in? What do you do if you need extra power on the highway to pass some cheese head in their automatic transmission Ford Focus as they putter along doing 73 in the left lane? What do you do in the snow?
Yes, I know manual transmissions aren't available on most models. No, I don't care.
My first VW Bug was a manual (purchased for $200 from the proceeds from the sale of my Pacer moped, which I purchased with baby sitting money and which was COOL AS ALL HELL and which I NEVER SHOULD HAVE SOLD). That first Bug (pictured circa 1981) ran for two weeks before throwing a rod and dying an indignant death that was not necessarily unwelcome (the heater was stuck on high and blew its blistering acrid air over some animal carcass that was hidden in the works, hence the car was not only sweat-popping hot, it stunk like hell). My second VW Bug was a manual, both Hondas were manual (the CRX and the Prelude--both SI models) and the Mini Cooper is (of course) a manual. (No, my Mini is not a Cooper S, and no, I don't need to hear any shit about that.)
"Three on the tree."
You don't get too many guys saying that anymore. I love that three-on-the-tree shit.
Me to my kid: "Kid, do not date anyone who doesn't know how to drive a stick shift. They're probably a candy ass."
How many people out there know what a goddamn double clutch is? You had to double clutch Dad's Willys. Try that shit while you're smoking and drinking a beer. One time the steering wheel came off in my hands while I was driving 40 MPH down Clifton Boulevard, which some might consider a safety hazard considering there were no doors or roof. Seat belts? Very funny.
"Dad," I said to him when I got home, "the steering wheel on the Jeep is a little loose."
"Yeah," he said indifferently, "I know."
Dad was like that. Dad was not candy ass. Dad was not candy ass even when he was driving the baby blue Pinto ('73?) or the Olds Vista Cruiser ('76?), both of which were candy ass (if Dad were here, he'd have said so himself [sometimes I think I use too many parentheticals]).
Dad was one of your original Beer Guys, the contingent of which is pretty much the antithesis of candy ass.
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* I was going to do a simple list of candy ass items, but decided each entry requires its own post, complete with pontification from your humble hostess, so you can look forward to more of these beauties in the future.
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