I’ve actually driven an old Shelby Mustang back in the day. I worked at a body shop, and a Shelby had to be delivered, and I was a worthless scut  worker, so I was elected. I was only 16 or 17 at the time. It had a floor shift, of course, but I’d driven three on the tree, so a clutch held no terrors for me. It had one of those white and powder blue color schemes that screams Shelby Mustang.

I’ll tell you something. It was a full time job keeping that car from launching itself into orbit. Steering didn’t matter, because you can’t turn the wheel five degrees off straight ahead and hope to live. I just wanted to keep the car on the ground, and I couldn’t do it. It left rubber in every gear, every time. It literally hopped forward like a rabid leopard when you stepped on the accelerator. To this day, I have no idea how either the car or I survived the trip. But it was a gas.