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I can speak from first hand experience. My parents needed one of these, but in 1977 they were no available. I had no business with a drivers license, and was a hazard on any road you had the misfortune to share with me.
Being 10 ft tall and bullet proof I was invincible (in my mind). So were most of the guys I hung out with.
I flat outran any police that hit the blues before he could read my tag.
It was only by the providential hand of God that I didn't kill myself or someone else.
One of the guys that ran with us had an accident and killed his date. Instead of seeing how stupid we were, we blamed the poor guy that pulled out on a two lane highway, not knowing there was an idiot coming his way, just over the hill, at well over 100 mph.

Children are all different, and my parents were very strict and I was considered a "good kid", and was in most things. But there is no way of earth I should have been at the wheel of an unmonitored automobile until I was at least 17 - maybe even 18.
Teenagers generally have absolutely no idea of their own mortality or the consequences of their actions on others.

I have absolutely no problem at all with this.

Cordially,
GE

Being 10 ft tall and bullet proof I was invincible (in my mind). So were most of the guys I hung out with.

Which is exactly why my lil misses will be driving their dates. We just talked (again) about this just yesterday. The roads out to our place are just not the place for a teen boy at noon, much less one trying to race to get her home before curfew. Sure, that leaves the hormone creature in the passenger seat with free hands, but I prefer the possible consequences.

Teenagers generally have absolutely no idea of their own mortality or the consequences of their actions on others.

Ain't that the truth? We remember, huh?

As I told my 13 year old (who is the best kid ever): I am here in your business - get used to it. We were talking about why she would not go on MySpace. I likened my active presence in her private life to her as a baby learning to walk by parents holding their both their hands, then it would be one hand, then it would be with the parent's hands hovering over the baby until it could freely walk on it's own. She "got it".

My Dad has a 1967 AH Sprite sports car. He was accutely aware of how much gas was in the tank but never payed attention to the milage. I would ask to take the car to a friends house about 4 miles away and since I had no money to buy gas, he felt safe that I would not go too far.

I would then go to the gas station in our small town and help the old guy close up shop. Recording numbers off the pumps, putting away the tire racks, mopping the garage floor. In return he would let me pump 3-4 gallons of gas.

I was gone for most of the night tearing up the back roads of Contra Costa County.

At least I was earning my own way to irresponsibility.