I drive stick and have since I was a teenager, when I had a shot at a babysitting job that came with a manual transmission car in which to run the kids around. This was the babysitting job that contributed significantly to my decision never to have kids, but at least I got a minor auto skill out of it. The cars I've owned have mostly been stick, because it's been cheaper, and I've been under the impression that manual transmissions last a bit longer than automatic ones. Since I try to keep my cars until they're 10+ years old and 150K+ miles, that's important to me. (I understand it's less of an issue with some automatic transmissions now.) I'm not wild about stop-and-go traffic up a hill, but it does make keeping my speed down in slow areas easy. (If my car's in 3rd it gets a bit loud when it goes over 30mph, in 4th it gets a bit loud when it's over 40 mph. Since I don't have cruise control, this helps me keep my speed from creeping up when a good song's playing.) And I understand manual transmission cars can have better gas mileage, unless you're using the lower gears to gun it.

The high point of my car driving ability was being able to parallel park on a steep hill in SF facing nose-down. That was fucking tricky. Gravity was a harsh mistress.

Three on the tree on a pickup was also interesting, as was moving my sister in a 20-foot U-Haul with stick.

All in all, I'm glad to have automatic transmission in San Francisco.

I'm sorry to hear your thriving specimen is badly placed.

I meant to say, -t, worry not for my azalea, my sister convinced me to hang on until next weekend when she will help me trim all the bushy bushes back to something manageable, so the azalea will probably live and continue to thrive.

I rarely even notice that I'm starting facing up or down a hill, I'm so used to it. Also because I know my manual like the back of my hand, so just how much to step on the clutch and how much to push the gas pedal down.

That said, when I rented an automatic when my toe was broken, I hardly noticed the difference, aside from a couple incidents of trying to clutch a non-existent pedal.

I keep flirting with the idea of getting a manual for my next car. It is what I learned on in the Berkeley Hills (hello Marin).

Driving out to the airport today, blasting tunes, was pretty sweet. Off to SLC.

Just out smarted myself. Thought I left my boarding pass at home as I was pulling out my I'd and headed to the counter to get it reprinted and realized it was tucked in the back of my book. Dur.

Timelies all!

I don't know how to drive manual. Nobody in my family knew how, so I was never taught. (Gary doesn't know how either.)

I meant to say, -t, worry not for my azalea,

HOORAY!

Because obviously me and my tender feelings are the important considerations here.

Everyone who ever tried to teach me to drive stick shuddered in horror and stopped after 15 minutes.

Driving a car is full of enough peril, IMHO.

Tasks I oneroused today: made dentist appointments for children; acquired babysitter for Thursday; made haircut appointment for me for Thursday; purchased plane tickets for complicated summer travel (this required making a chart, in addition to spending $2000).

Can I get a gold star?