My buddy Kim is to a steering wheel, three pedals, and a shifter what a 20-pound sledge is to a row of thumb tacks. Effective? 100 percent. Precise? Not so much. In my entire humdrum life, I’ve never been as scared as I was when belted into the right seat of a brand-new,
2002 Porsche Boxster, going 40 or 50 mph above the speed limit, in a downpour, on an unmarked secondary
