Stick Shift Challenge

My youngest daughter
Was learning how
To drive a car
With a manual transmission
A while back,
And it brought back memories
Of what it was like for me
Before I mastered
That subtle art.
My stick shift education
Was provided
Compliments of
My second car,
A VW Beetle.
It was a bright
Shinny new model,
Hot off the showroom floor,
And it performed dutifully
During the brief test drive,
But when I tried
To drive it home,
It became another beast entirely.
It seemed to develop
A mind of its own,
As fidgety and cantankerous
As any mule.
It started, . . . then stalled,
Started, . . . then stalled,
Progressing down the highway
One lurch at a time,
Grinding gears as it went.
It was as if
The car had developed
An acute case
Of the hick-ups.
The more frustrated I got,
The worse it got.
I was almost tempted
To return the car
To the dealership.
Fortunately
For the sake of the car
And my self pride,
I had the skill mastered
In a day or so.
Mastery didn’t mean
I could necessarily teach
Family members though.
At one point
I tried to teach my wife
The art of the stick,
Back when she was
A stick shift virgin,
But gave up
And let a professional
With more patience than I
Handle that challenge.
My daughter would also
Become a master
Without my intervention.