This column is a lie. I no longer drive a stick shift
Image courtesy of Flickr user Alvin Trusty by way of a Creative Commons license. https://www.flickr.com/photos/trustypics/
Do you know how to drive a stick shift?
I received an unnerving introduction to stick shifts when I was 14. My dad and I had been out hunting that day. When we got back to the truck, he climbed into the passenger seat. I asked him what he was doing. His one-word answer was: “Drive.”
What I would be “driving” was a Datsun pickup truck with “four on the floor,” meaning the shifter was on the transmission hump that ran the length of the cabin. I would be working a manual choke and using the clutch while wearing hunting boots, not optimal for somebody driving a stick shift for the first time. Worse, I had never, ever received any instruction on what exactly I was supposed to do.
I understood the theory of a stick shift: Push in the clutch, shift into first gear, give it a little gas and slowly let out the clutch until the truck got moving, then cycle through the higher gears as my speed increased. I had watched my cousin do it as we plowed through the pastures at my uncle’s farm in his beat up old Ford.
But watching and doing were two different things.
I got the truck moving and actually managed to run it up into fourth without any major missteps. Then Dad lost his nerve and asked me to pull over, as we were nearing Freeport and he didn’t want me driving through traffic.
Over the years I drove both automatics and sticks, and developed a pronounced love of the stick. My first car, which I inherited from my older sister, a Pontiac Astre, was a stick, and I drove it for five years. I even taught my friend Scott how to drive a stick in that car – I wanted to see if it could be done without yelling.
My second car, the hated Pontiac Firebird, was an automatic. I ditched it after two years and went back to a stick in my Nissan Pulsar, and I never looked back.
My current ride, a Scion tC, is a stick. I’ll probably always drive sticks.
A manual transmission gives me the illusion of being in control – don’t ask me why. It’s as if I’m one with the vehicle. I feel a lot more comfortable knowing I can drive anything out there.
To this day I still pop the clutch from time to time. And with pedals only a few millimeters apart, my big clodhopper Doc Martens sometimes hit the brake and gas pedals at the same time.
I will know I’ve truly grown old when I switch from a stick to an automatic. My right hand and left foot won’t know what to do with themselves.
Zoom zoom will only be an echo from the past.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Photo by Del Stone Jr.
In 1995 I grew tired of driving around in what amounted to a flapping, leaky tent – my ’95 Mustang GT convertible – and decided to trade wheels. Instead of buying another sports car I went in a completely unforeseen direction and picked up a ’95 Nissan Pathfinder.
I can thank Keith King for that. He was the salesman at Hood Nissan-Volvo who handed me the keys and said, “Here, drive it around for a few days. See how you like it.” After five minutes I was sold. The truck was solid. I sat above the fray looking down at my lessers in their Focuses and Cavaliers and, dare I say it, Mustangs. No, the Pathfinder wasn’t a sports car. It would do zero to 60 in about 15 minutes. And it wasn’t an economy car. The number 15 comes to mind when measuring the fuel economy. But my, was it comfortable. The leg room was astounding. The seats fit my aching back to perfection. The stereo was great, the AC incredibly effective and best of all, I felt SAFE driving it. And the ROOM – oh my gosh. I had acres and acres to spare. After the glove box trunk on my Mustang I felt I’d died and gone to heaven.
Two days later I trudged back to Keith with my checkbook in hand. I gave him the Mustang and $1,000. That night I slept peacefully, not worrying about a cat using my ragtop as a scratching post.
The Pathfinder proved to be a reliable, sturdy and indomitable trooper. I drove it to Atlanta. To Dayton. To Orlando. St. Augustine. To Louisiana several times. Virginia. One morning I climbed into it in Chicago at 8:20 and climbed out of it Fort Walton Beach at 12:30 a.m. It was so comfortable and smooth I was able to make the drive in a single day.
I was grateful to have it after Hurricane Opal struck. It carried me around town, through pools of water and mounds of debris, with nary a hiccup. The same for Ivan and Dennis. I even used it to block my kitchen window from flying debris during Ivan. The Pathfinder didn’t care; it started right up the next morning.
I hauled a bicycle and a radial arm saw to Dayton, Ohio in that vehicle. I hauled mounds and mounds of dirt in buckets and baskets from my place to Mom’s house. Once, I hauled a 5,000-watt generator from Sam’s Club to Mom and Dad’s house. No problem. I also hauled writer Joe Lansdale and his wife, Karen, plus editor Rick Klaw, around Chicago. Somehow all of us fit just fine.
All of this is not to say the Pathfinder wasn’t without its flaws. That first week an exposed sensor shut down the engine every time it rained. Keith drove his personal vehicle to my worksite and left it for me while he took the Pathfinder back to the shop to have the problem fixed. The battery died on us while we were traveling to Louisiana – I should add this was after SEVEN YEARS. The head gasket had to be replaced after 12 years. And the Pathfinder had a nasty habit of chewing through exhaust manifold bolts – a costly repair.
But overall I was immensely satisfied with it. I trusted it. It never left me stranded, was always comfortable and I could haul just about anything that would fit in its rear cargo hatch.
Two years ago I decided I needed a new vehicle. I could see gas prices spiraling out of control, and although they’re down now I expect they’ll go back up. The Pathfinder was not easy on gas – around town I averaged 15 or 16 mpg. On the highway it once hit 20 mpg. I wanted something that would use a gallon of gas every 30 miles or so. I bought a Scion tC. When gently driven the Scion averages around 28 in town and over 32 on the interstate. Just this past weekend I was able to drive from Fort Walton Beach to Orlando on a single tank of gas. Can’t complain about that.
But the Scion isn’t the Pathfinder. It isn’t as comfortable and you can’t haul nearly as much stuff. And I wonder how it will handle the post-hurricane scenario.
Still, owning two vehicles is ridiculous for a single person. The cost of insurance alone is reason to sell one. Since the Scion was new and could reliably get me from Fort Walton Beach to a place like Orlando, I decided to keep it and sell my beloved Pathfinder.
I say “beloved” because I really did love that old crate. I called it “The School Bus” because while it wasn’t pretty, it was reliable and carried lots of goods. I’ll hate to see it go.
But go it must. The checkbook demands it. So today I put an ad online and took some pictures. I even created a photo gallery for the Pathfinder, warts and all.
I want the person who buys it to see everything about it. I want them to care about it, as I cared about it. I have this theory that if your car is nothing more than transportation, you won’t take care of it and it won’t take care of you. I know this is foolish because cars are merely machines. But I think they can somehow sense when you care about them and they return the favor.
So. Looking for a good home. A 1995 Nissan Pathfinder. A true and reliable friend.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
So I am restored to two functioning vehicles.
Why does one person need two vehicles, you ask? How does that affect your carbon footprint on the earth? How can you afford two vehicles? And what exactly do you mean by “restored”?
Notice my impeccable punctuation in the previous paragraph. That should count for something. Surely a person of impeccable punctuation should be allowed the luxury of two vehicles.
But if that explanation is insufficient, consider the following:
“Why does one person need two vehicles?” Well, truth be told, one person doesn’t need two vehicles. But that’s where I find myself – with a practical vehicle for today’s volatile and unfriendly fuel prices, and a trusted old friend that can haul a 5,000-watt generator in the back seat.
“How does that affect your carbon footprint on the earth?” When I look at my peers driving gigantic pickup trucks, SUVs and vans, I find it hard to feel guilty I am adversely affecting the carbon footprint of the earth. In fact, one of my peers who drives a Prius recently chided me about my carbon footprint. I reminded him that he recently drove a Suburban. If a Prius is a Xanax for earth-guilt, my Scion tC is a vitamin C pill.
“How can you afford two vehicles?” I refuse to feel guilty about this. Vehicle No. 1 was purchased in 1995 and has been paid off for many years. Vehicle No. 2 was purchased in 2006 and was paid for in cash, which I saved for years.
“Restored.” That means I recently turned in vehicle No. 1 to the shop, which restored it to functioning order – for a price – which I will be paying the rest of the year. Vehicle No. 2 was vandalized at work, but luckily insurance paid for the bulk of the work.
So now I am merely paranoid about which vehicle to drive. No. 1 is old but I only have liability on it. One wreck on the way to work and it’s off to the junkyard. No. 2 has full coverage but if I take it to work, the vandalizer may return.
I dunno. I guess in the pantheon of worries, these are the minor gods.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
The Car Care Council news release had a sad story to tell. It was the story of Angelo.
Angelo is like millions of other Americans – except that Angelo is fictitious. Aside from that, Angelo is a regular sort of guy.
But Angelo has a dark secret. He abuses cars.
Pinto runabouts. Chevrolets. Korean compacts … the list of his victims reads like a selection of pages from the Blue Book – which in reality is yellow, no doubt an effort to baffle those who are not in the business of buying and selling automobiles.
The iniquitous Angelo’s story began as he was driving his latest victim to the dealership to be traded in on some sweet young new model. When the light turned green at the intersection, the CCC said, Angelo stepped on the gas and Old Betsy just wouldn’t budge. Angelo had PUT OFF basic maintenance on his car TOO LONG.
Angelo didn’t want to have Old Betsy towed to the dealership, where they might try to gyp him out of the $500 trade-in they had agreed on. Instead, Angelo, ever the consummate businessman, had Old Betsy towed back to his house where he could have it repaired just long enough to unload it, as planned, on the dealership.
But Old Betsy had the last laugh. You see, Angelo had neglected to have the transmission fluid and filter changed. And the truth were known, he probably never Armor-Alled the dashboard, which left it looking cracked and peeling like the skin of an elephant with eczema. And he probably never vacuumed it or put carpet deodorizer on the floors, not even after his neighbor’s cat used it for a year and a half as a litter box. These car abusers follow predictable patterns.
Anyway, after years of this wretched existence, Old Betsy simply gave up the ghost, the automobile equivalent of hara-kiri, thus denying the wicked Angelo his $500 trade-in (plus towing charges, the CCC release was quick to add).
And what do you think Angelo learned from this experience? To stay away from cars named Old Betsy? To have the dealership salesman drive to his house on the day of the sale?
To STOP abusing his car?
Heaven forbid! Angelo learned that by abusing his car, his story would be picked up by a prestigious national organization and dramatized before a horrified and disbelieving audience of millions of people, who would be scandalized that an unthinking, unfeeling car could be so inconsiderate of its owner – the same owner who shelled out thousands of hi hard-earned dollars and asked for nothing in return but to be transported from Point A to Point B in a modicum of style and comfort, and to be able to enjoy the enhancement of his self-image by owning and operating a vehicle that functioned in a reliable manner despite its owner’s few piddling transgressions of neglect.
That isn’t exactly what the CCC news release said, but you get the picture.
This column was published in the Playground Daily News sometime in the 1980s and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .