Technological Advancements are Making Older Cars More Fascinating

I’m going to tell two very quick and insignificant stories that go along with the title of this article. But first, as you know I like to do… a preface.

We live in an automotive world where tachometers turn into g-force meters at the touch of a screen. Suspension loosens and stiffens on demand or even automatically if you like. But I’ve never seen “younger” people so fascinated as when the below two stories happened.

It happened on the way to the office:

A few years back when I lived in Seattle and was still commuting, I needed to go from what we called the west side, to the east side (more accurately, I needed to drive from Seattle to Bellevue/Redmond) for a business meeting. Nothing ground breaking, just a design review. The director of design who'd have typically accompanied me was busy. Luckily, we had this young up and coming designer who was quite skilled and confident and the director decided to have her join me in his stead. Having worked with her on projects before, I said "Great idea" and asked her if she wanted to meet me at the site or if she wanted a ride. She opted for a ride so we could discuss the briefing on the way. We gathered our things and before we knew it we were headed toward the 520 bridge and on our way to Redmond. I drove casually and with her permission, I put the top down on my little red BMW Z4M. It was a rare, beautiful spring day in the Pacific North West and I wanted to soak up every bit of sunshine I could. I was cognizant, however, that putting the roof down could mess up her hair just before a big meeting. She fussed with her hair for a second and agreed to my request. As we started to cross the bridge, it was smooth sailing and for those of you that know anything about sunny spring days in Seattle, you'll know they are both extremely elusive and extraordinarily beautiful. Which is why I found it strange that even though we were crossing pristine blue waters with gorgeous trees and hills in the background, her eyes were oddly focused on my hands and feet. After we'd made it across the bridge, my curiosity finally gave in and I asked her why on Earth her focus was on the inside of the car instead of the gorgeous day that was unfolding infront of us.

She responded more sheepishly than I'd anticipated and said... "That's a manual transmission right?"

"Yup", I responded matter of factly, mid shift.

"It's just I've never seen anyone use one before."

Bewildered, I eased up on the accelerator, looked over at her and said "Really? Not your parents? Not a cousin? Not a friend?"

"Nope. First time. It looks like a lot of work. Like playing the drums or something."

"Meh... I replied. It's just more fun."

She nodded and finally looked out at the scenery, but not without glancing back down from time to time. If instead, my car was doing lane keeping assist or if I'd made a Bluetooth call, I'm 100% certain she'd have been yawning and texting a friend or what have you. But there was a human interacting with an analog world and that, for most people... is fascinating.

Radio trumps streaming:

I returned to my Miata in a grocery store parking lot one day and as I was putting my bags into my tiny metal trunk, a pair of brothers stopped their father so they could stop and watch what I was doing. It can be an interesting thing for anyone to see someone strap themselves into a little green roadster with sheet metal door cards, roll/door bars, fat tires and a detachable steering wheel. So I obliged them and even let both of the boys take turns holding the steering wheel before I put it on the car. We chatted for a quick second about what the different parts of the car did and the father expressed his gratitude for me having taken the time to endulge his boys' curiosities. I replied with my typical "no worries" and twisted the key to start the engine and leave. That's when I heard the biggest gasp of all emanate from one of the boys. "Wooooooooooooooooow! Did you see that!?!?!"

"See what?" I said in my head.

"See what?" The other brother said in the a loud voice.

"That thing!" The first boy said, pointing at the long thin metal pole that was now protruding from the trunk of my car. "It just came out of his car!"

"I wanna see! I wanna see!"

"Ah... that's an antenna." Then I thought to myself, modern kids don't even need to know what that word is anymore. "It's a device that helps me hear the radio." It was then that I realized no matter what I said to them it may as well be Greek. Finally, I just said, "It's how people listened to music back in the 90s."

The father chuckled, thanked me again and told the duo they'd already taken enough of this nice man's time.

Fascinating machinery is all around us. But these days, be it for safety or aesthetic reasons, it's hidden out of site. Save maybe for floppy doors and mirrors that fold back. But nothing raw or function driven is exposed. And sometimes that's where the real magic is. I'll never upgrade that antenna now. Apparently it's pretty special. Time and technology move on. Cars from today aren't what they'll be in the future. Just like they barely resemble the ones from the past. That's why preservation of certain aspects of cars from different eras is a noble thing to do. I think we can and should embrace technology (as long as it's a positive shift. But there's a way to do it whilst acknowledging and respecting what came before. Once it's gone it's gone. And it won't be coming back.