A Quote by Willie Morris
When I started driving our old four-door green DeSoto, I always took Skip on my trips around town. I would get Skip to prop himself against the steering wheel, his black head peering out of the windshield, while I crouched out of sight under the dashboard. Slowing the car to ten or fifteen, I would guide the steering wheel with my right hand while Skip, with his paws, kept it steady. As we drove by the Blue Front Café, I could hear one of the men shout: "Look at that ol' dog drivin' a car!"
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My mom, God rest her soul - she liked nicknames. In the womb she named me Skip. There was another black guy in Piedmont, W.Va., and his name was Skip. They called him Big Skip, and I was Little Skip.
It's pretty amazing to see a guy, while steering at the wheel, suddenly raise his little 300 dollar German camera with one hand and snap something that's on the move in front of him, and through an unwashed windshield at that. (On the road with Robert Frank, 1958)
We go through the whole season working on next season's car and developing the car and making sure we fit in the car and all that sort of stuff. And we obviously give ideas of what we would hope next year's car would have even if it's small things like buttons on the steering wheel and different positions and whatever.
Mallory dropped her head to the steering wheel. "Look, I'm mad at you, okay? This isn't about me. I know my painful memories are relative. My life is good. I'm lucky. This isn't about how poor little Mallory has had it so hard. I'm not falling apart or anything." He stroked a hand down her back. "Of course you're not. You're just holding the steering wheel up with your head for a minute, that's all.
Whether it's with my engineers in the team, my home life, or my friends, I don't like things to get complicated - and one good example would be the steering wheel in my Mercedes Formula 1 car.
My mom drove like Britney Spears with the steering wheel and me right here [in her lap]. I'm fine, I turned out okay.
The driver of a racing car is a component. When I first began, I used to grip the steering wheel firmly, and I changed gear so hard that I damaged my hand.
Asking the front wheels of a car to do their normal job of steering while handling more than 170 is like asking a man to wire a plug while juggling. Penguins. While making love. To a beautiful woman while on fire, on stage. In front of the Queen. It's all going to go wrong.
Years ago, I heard an interview with violinist Yehudi Menuhin. The interviewer said, "Do you still practice?" And he said, "I practice every day." He said, "If I skip a day, I can hear it. If I skip two days, the conductor can hear it. And if I skip three days, the audience can hear it." Oh, yes, you have to keep that muscle firm.
McDonald's revolutionized fast food. They introduced a way to eat food without knives, forks or plates. Most fast foods can be eaten while steering the wheel of a car and the restaurants are usually drive through.
Nobody is born with a steering wheel or a gear shift in his hand. It's something you choose to do or you don't.
Sometimes you have to bring back only the steering wheel so the car owner will know that you're giving it all you have.
Having a large amount of leverage is like driving a car with a dagger on the steering wheel pointed at your heart. If you do that, you will be a better driver. There will be fewer accidents but when they happen, they will be fatal.
I used to kiss things all the time. I would have to kiss everything, just about everything. The headboard on my bed, the steering wheel in my car. I think it was an OCD thing.
The memories are vague of the accident. I remember coming out of the pitlane with cruise control, letting it go and then losing control of the car. I remember my hands frantically operating the steering wheel trying to recover control of the car, then this big, big noise and nothing more.
If I sit next to a madman as he drives a car into a group of innocent bystanders, I can't, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe, then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.
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