Pope Francis, that publicity hog, is getting favorable press again by simply acting like your next door neighbor. You know the neighbor I mean – that smiling, soft-spoken, humble one. The one who commands a worldwide legion of millions and has the ear of God.

This time he’s accepted a 20-year-old donated car and announcing he plans to drive it around the Vatican grounds. This seems to have taken the world by surprise. All the guys who have done the Pope job have had access to a glorious array of wonderful perks. So the position was ripe for some contrary sort to come along and flaunt his common touch. It’s not hard to seem to be a man of the people when the bar has been set so low.

But this one was way too easy. Get appointed to the papacy and people immediately forget that you’ve already lived a long life and have learned to do many ordinary things. Driving a car is not really a big deal. If Francis wants to show some “street cred”, let’s see him change the oil while wearing those white clothes of his. If he can do that and then go celebrate mass without switching to fresh robes, I’ll be impressed.

The article says the Pope’s bodyguards “were amazed” when he took the keys from the car’s former owner, Father Zocca, and “drove off.”

But I’ll bet “amazed” is not quite the word. Panicked, yes. Possibly apoplectic. They’re his bodyguards, after all, and the car is a Renault – not known for its crashworthiness.

When Gus turned 16 and started driving, we gave him a birthday gift that still makes me chuckle – a weirdly charming book called Karambolage. It’s the life’s work of a Swiss police officer named Arnold Odermatt whose job it was to take photographs of automobile accident scenes. Every picture tells a story – exactly the kind of story that ran through the Pope protector’s heads when they heard him release the brake and saw the PopeRenault take off.

Ever wreck the car?