The time had come, the turning-point in my daughter’s life. Her sixteenth birthday approached, and I looked forward to that with somewhat the same feeling I had when waiting for my draft notice. I knew the present she wanted; driving lessons. She looked forward to her school's Driver Education, but she wanted old Dad to give a crash course in the meantime, just to have a little jump on the other kids.

My vehicle was a Jeep pickup, stick-shift, oversize wheels, spring-stiffeners, lack of power steering; this meant nothing to her. She got the beast started, successfully found first gear, let out the clutch, and we were underway, bucking, jumping, grinding. Fortunately we lived in the country, so no one witnessed the event. After experiencing all the gears she parked, beaming.

“Thanks, Dad!” she grinned. While she studied the driver’s manual, I fixed a drink, exhausted, but proud.

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