Now back to that 18-year-old in his driveway: The shifter's been in and out of the car several times by now; he's sweating in the web of humidity trying to adjust the throw stops with a couple of end wrenches. The instructions warned dire consequences were this task not completed successfully. Nobody knew diddly about the contraption. There was no one to ask so intuition ruled. Lap belt snugged securely, shift rods looking about where they should be, he rolled down to the road in the shimmering heat. Could it handle that critical one-two changeup? He stomped the gas, and made like a drag racer. Man, that trippy shifter knob fairly jumped forward. The tires squalled. The kid kept his foot to the floor.