A couple years ago I asked my grandmother if I could take Grampa’s old mustang that my cousin was fixing up out for a spin. It was the car my mother and uncle grew up driving in southern Washington state on super windy roads. I grabbed the key and went to the garage. My younger cousin and I hopped into the car. I slid the key in and took a deep breath. I turned the key and… it tried to start, but it wouldn’t turn over. I tried it a couple more times and then looked up to see my uncle chuckling in the corner. He said “let me show you how it’s done”. I was 22 at the time and had no idea that you had to pump the gas a few times to get gas flowing into the engine. He got it started and I hopped back in. I took my cousin out for a spin… I had no idea this would be the first time I was driving a car without power steering (it hadn’t occurred to me), nor did I expect my braking would skid the car at the stop signs. I stalled it twice and brought it back into the garage. That was the greatest car I’ve ever driven, and I’m a valet driver in Los Angeles.