When I reached the advanced age of nineteen my grandfather offered to pay for driving lessons, mostly to put himself out of his own misery - coming from the depression-era prairies ( etc., etc.) he wasn't well equipped to concieve of why a young up- and- comer would neglect to get a driving license right then at the age of sixteen. I think we (he) decided that Young Drivers of Canada was overpriced and opted for one of the smaller driving schools with a name like Star or Freedom or something like that. I was taught by a very personable Punjabi man, the car had the two requisite steering wheels, and the first lesson began by him telling me to " Drive the car." Half an hour later I was doing lane changes on Broadway, and he wrapped up the lesson with a traumatizing left turn at Granville and Broadway in full traffic. I did all the lessons and got through the test and got my licence and then failed to buy a car or express much interest in piloting one unless there was some pressing reason, to my grandfather's ongoing chagrin. I remember Rudy, who was a grade ahead of me in highschool and who became famous for being unable to pass the driving test no matter how many times he took it, and who was also obsessed with John Cougar Mellencamp and could even do that little dance that he did in the videos. Rudy also played one of the key roles in the Fiddler on the Roof musical that my highschool put on in 1985, notable because he was Filipino but was playing an Eastern European Jew. I played Menachem, the bar-keeper, a not very important part but with a few lines, and I got to yell " Mazeltov!" and had a one line solo in one of the songs. That was how I got into car driving.