I loved that car and if Peugeot still sold cars in the US I would buy one immediately–despite the terrible rust problem!

And really, even if the dealer or seller does tell you every detail about the car or other item you’re purchasing, you’re getting the information all in a shotgun manner, are typically not practicing each instruction so that you’re really not learning what to do, and are highly likely to forget crucial details when you need them a day or so later.

I ran into both the automatic turn on issue and the darned manual shifting sans clutch while renting vehicles. Given neither vehicle had the manual in the car to reference, I called the rental company directly, they usually put the local office’s number on the paperwork and they were able to help me.

For Ryan in #3, the commercials tell you to push the button to start, the button has nice big letters on it saying push to start, so when you push the button, you kind of expect that’s all you really need to do to start the car. Then when the instrument panel lights up, the radio comes on, etc. upon pushing the button because you have the “key” in your pocket, you figure the vehicle is on and quiet because it’s electric and there is no need for the gas engine to kick in yet. So then you are surprised when you shift and hit the accelerator and go nowhere with no obvious indication the vehicle is not powered. Note the button doesn’t say depress brake pedal and hold then push the button to start, because if you push and hold the button and then depress the brake that doesn’t work (at least in the rental I had it didn’t). Nor is there an indicator (I certainly don’t recall one) on the instrument panel like a tachometer which would indicate the engine isn’t ready to go. So I can easily see someone thinking the car is ready to run, but something else is preventing it and struggling with that for some time.

It’s always amazing how “simple” something is once you know how to do it, and how quick we are to put down folks who haven’t gotten it even as we forget our own struggle to understand or need to be shown.

Tomorrow’s installment in this series: How to Operate a Dimmer Switch

Many consumer products either have manuals that appear to have been badly translated from the original Klingon, or have no manual at all and make you go online to get any help (thank you, Apple!!)

In 2002 I was in Orlando, FL and had decided that when my work there was done I would drive to Chicago via New Orleans, Memphis and St Louis. I had never driven in the USA before, and I was not able to leave on Sunday as I had hoped but had to wait until Monday (of Thanksgiving weekend) to begin the first and longest leg of the journey, from Orlando to New Orleans.

I picked up the car from the airport at Orlando at an hour of the morning that I had heard of but never actually experienced in a waking state. And I sat in the vehicle for about half an hour going nowhere, because I couldn’t find the gear shift. I knew, of course, that the car would be an automatic (I had never before driven one of those either), and I who live in a country where we drive on the left had even successfully remembered to get into the car by the left-hand door (the location of the steering wheel was of course a significant clue). But it had simply not occurred to me that the gear shift would be on the steering column, although I did wonder vaguely why what I presumed to be the indicator stick was quite so massive.

Eventually I got out of the car and found a helpful attendant, who to her undying credit did not dissolve at once into laughter. She told me where the gear shift was. I got back into the car and tried the thing that was now not the indicator stick. It did not budge. But my guardian angel was still hovering, and explained to me that indeed the gear shift would not budge until I put my foot on the brake. I started the car again, put it into gear, and drove off down the ramp with my heroine walking beside me every step of the way (presumably she was justifiably worried that I would not know how to turn the steering wheel either).

I was now in a hurry, so when I was stopped on the Florida Turnpike by a trooper named Angus, he enquired whether I knew how fast I was going. I judged it best not to give the Heisenberg Answer (“no, but I know where I am”) and merely hung my head when he informed me almost in a shriek that I was doing ninety-eight. “Let”, I thought to myself, “them truckers roll”, but Angus said he would have to give me a citation. It turned out that this was not a scroll of commendation for driving faster than anyone else ever had on the Florida Turnpike at epsilon in the morning on the Monday following Thanksgiving. Instead, it was an injunction to pay the State of Florida a sum approximating to two hundred dollars.

As Trent rightly says, learn how a car works before you take it on the highway. It will save you money.

~chuckle~ at Tracy #4, though.