If you let the robot drive, it may take the most rational route. What fun is that?

I met my husband in the early 80s. He had a 1970-something Chevy Nova SS. I’m not that great with car model years. It was drab green but I went out with him anyway. I had a Chevy Malibu that apparently had a combination of 1973 and 1975 parts so it was alway a bit of a conundrum at first for folks. Was it a’73 or a’75? I don’t recall where we landed but I do recall it was bright blue and ticked like a bomb. I bought it for $350 and sold it for $400 after I graduated from college a few years later. I told the guy who bought it that it had ticked like a bomb since I bought it. He thought nothing of it either. After that, I went through a VW and Saab phase followed by a seven-fucking-mini-van-phase. And then back to VWs. I like driving a stick shift. It’s why the minivans were the bane of my existence. My husband, Andy, has been a Toyota guy for a number of years. He doesn’t care for stick shift. Don’t hold either of those things against him. That’s the first part of the story of our cars. The second part is about driving.

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