"Lib, I'll concede that J.T.'s a little unusual."
"The way he seems fascinated or puzzled by ordinary objects?"
She remembered the kitchen faucet. "Well, yes."
Times Change
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See the push buttons on the left? That how you shifted the auto trans.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/23155134@N06/7309990326/, CC BY-SA 2.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=57469912
When was the last time you adjusted the antennas on your TV, changed the ink ribbon in a typewriter, or looked up your library book in the card catalog? Here, we take a slow stroll down the memory lane of obsolete life skills.
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Cal took a moment to be charmed by the old-fashioned instruments and controls. The birds were singing as he tested the steering wheel and pumped the gas pedal curiously.
There was a lever between the seats marked with numbers running from one to four in an H
pattern.
Gears clanked when he shoved the lever forward. Confident he had the skill to operate such a simple vehicle, he turned knobs. When he got no response he jiggled the gearshift while depressing the floor pedals. Through trial and error, he found the clutch and shifted smoothly into first gear.
A beginning, he decided, and wondered where the hell the designer had put the ignition.
"You're going to have a hard time starting it without this." Libby stood on the porch, one hand in a fist on her hip, the other aloft, with the ignition key dangling from her fingers. She was mad, all right, Cal thought.
But he didn't feel like smiling. "I was just… thinking about taking a ride."
"Were you?" She tugged her hastily donned sweater farther over her hips before she walked
down the steps. "It's your bad luck I didn't leave the keys in the car."
So it took a key. He should have known.
Time Was
There was a lever between the seats marked with numbers running from one to four in an H
pattern.
Gears clanked when he shoved the lever forward. Confident he had the skill to operate such a simple vehicle, he turned knobs. When he got no response he jiggled the gearshift while depressing the floor pedals. Through trial and error, he found the clutch and shifted smoothly into first gear.
A beginning, he decided, and wondered where the hell the designer had put the ignition.
"You're going to have a hard time starting it without this." Libby stood on the porch, one hand in a fist on her hip, the other aloft, with the ignition key dangling from her fingers. She was mad, all right, Cal thought.
But he didn't feel like smiling. "I was just… thinking about taking a ride."
"Were you?" She tugged her hastily donned sweater farther over her hips before she walked
down the steps. "It's your bad luck I didn't leave the keys in the car."
So it took a key. He should have known.
Time Was