I heard that the proposed Home Depot store in Queensbury includes plans for revamping the main Northway Plaza exit. I�m sure that standard-shift car owners will be pleased. That�s a tricky place to juggle clutch, brake and gas while waiting for the light to turn green, especially at this time of the year.

I haven�t owned a stick-shift in a few years, but thinking about them now reminds me of how I used to hate them.

When I took driver�s ed. in high school we alternated between a standard and an automatic car. I was okay once I got going on a standard, but asking me to put it into first gear was like asking a dog to play violin. It simply took more coordination than I possessed. Once, I stalled four or five times just trying to turn into the school entrance. Each time I let up on the clutch, the engine rasped, gasped and stopped dead. The more times I tried, the harder it was to get right.

One weekend my boyfriend drove us to the school in his family�s little two-toned green Dodge Omni and persuaded me to do some standard-shift practice in the parking lot. I wasn�t happy about this extra-curricular training but gave it a go. When I got frustrated and wanted to give up, he insisted that I keep going. Even when I stopped the car in the middle of the access road in front of the school and refused to go any further, he just refused to leave the passenger�s seat. I got out and started walking.

Stubborn is as stubborn does.

Luckily, it was only a ten-minute walk to my home. I fumed all the way there. Eventually I cooled down enough to wonder what to do next. Would he eventually show up? Or was he still there, waiting for me to come back? Finally, my curiosity won out over my pride. I hopped on my bike and set off on a nonchalant reconnaissance mission.

Sure enough, the car was right where I�d left it. The boyfriend was there, too. Still in the passenger�s seat. He was casually and calmly reading a book, with his work boot-clad feet stuck out the opened window. He knew I�d be back, and this made me more mad than his superior you�ll-do-what-I-want attitude that sent me away in a huff in the first place.

I truly don�t recall what happened at that point. I think he suggested putting the bike in the hatchback and giving it another try, but I have trouble seeing myself do that. At any rate, my driver�s ed. experiences and the bullying episode combined to give me a strong dislike of standard-shift cars.

About seven years later, my husband (not the same guy) and I were shopping for our first new car. This was to be our big step up from owning gas-guzzling second-hand cars with rust-stain age spots and dangerously high mileage. We looked around the various dealers and found that Nissan, an unfamiliar name to me before this point, had something called a Sentra that was affordable. Boxy, yes, and small, (salesmen like to use the word "compact"), but very affordable.

One look on the sticker and you could tell why it was so cheap. It had no frills. It came with four wheels, a body and an engine along with vinyl seats, a steering wheel and whatever safety devices were required by law. That�s about it. It didn�t even come with a radio. An antenna, yes, but no radio.

This was the base model and it only came with standard transmission. Adding an automatic would add about a thousand dollars to the price tag, and would mean a special order. On the other hand, a shipment of these base models was due in shortly, and a major rebate could be ours if we signed on the dotted line in time.

It was up to me to decide.

We took one of the demo cars for a test drive to a nearby municipal building parking lot. I got in the driver�s seat, expecting the old feelings of insecurity and frustration to surface. Instead, the old training clicked in and took over. Slowly let the clutch out, I told myself with a deep breath. Give it a little more gas. It was definitely rough at first, but I didn�t stall.

I soon felt like a race car driver, shiftin� gears with ease and making victory laps around the empty building. I even made it out on the road and back to the dealer.

Within a few weeks we were driving around in our own little red Sentra. We�d saved enough on the rebate to splurge and have them install a sound system.

I really enjoyed driving that car. It didn�t have things I take for granted now, like air conditioning and power windows and locks, but it was fun. Except, of course, when I had to start it on a hill.