The exhaust needs a new bracket, so on go the overalls and up go the back wheels on to the (surely unstable) ramp. It’s Sunday morning and the legs sticking out belong to my son, 17 and just learning to drive. That old idea that you shouldn’t operate anything you don’t understand has come back into play. That was the deal with the car: You drive it. You maintain it. So far so good. Every weekend the two of them, man and boy, have been either in it or under it. Me, I drove it once and decided that power steering and brakes that actually brake were mandatory. And anyway, it’s not my car. They’re going for a spin later, hopefully not literally.