When you drive an old car, you're paying attention. You're
actually driving. You're physically involved in the experience.
When you're in a car like my 1913 Mercer, which has
two-wheel brakes and 3-in.-wide tires, it's a must. You are driving
defensively. You're paying attention to the driving situation around you. The
number of people I see "driving" and doing something else at the same
time–like reading, talking on the phone, eating, putting on makeup–is unbelievable.
And then, crash!, they just hit things. And they've got four-wheel discs with
antilock brakes. They've got the ability to stop in a tenth the distance of an
older car.
Yes, in an older car, you're definitely more physically
involved in the act of driving.
I always drive for pleasure. I like to drive. Consequently,
I pay attention when I do it. When I'm in an older car and someone wants to cut
in front of me, I smile and say, go ahead. There isn't that competitive,
"You SOB. I'll ram my blah, blah, blah up your blah, blah, blah"
thing going on. Besides, people see you driving a collector car and they cut
you a lot of slack. It's a bit like the old lady crossing the street. People
say, "Oh look, be careful, go ahead dearie …"
I contend that a certain number of traffic accidents occur
because all cars look alike nowadays. You go down the road and there's just a
sea of jelly bean shapes that seem to all blend in.
Recently, I was driving my '56 Chrysler Imperial on the
freeway, and I passed a guy and he looked over, saw a huge shape he'd not seen
before and shooosh!, he looked like he suddenly woke up. He didn't recognize me
but he waved anyway. My car just looked odd to him. And rightly so. It had
character compared to the look-alikes around us on the road. The Imperial has
big whitewall tires and chromed wire wheels. So this enormous land yacht comes
cruising by and this guy is just in his own world, tooling along. He sees the
Imperial's big fins and the gunsight taillights on the back and, boing!, it got
his attention. It registered.
That's part of the fun of old cars. People ask, "Aren't
you afraid of being hit?" Actually, I think it's the other way around.
People are less likely to run into you because they notice you. It's like
blowing your horn. They think, what is that big thing? Lookit that!
People ask me if I'm afraid my old cars are going to break
down when I drive them. I say, "Yeah, they break down all the time."
With the kind of job I have, when my car breaks down, that's really the only
time I get to relax. Because when it happens I can't do anything. I'm stuck by
the side of the freeway, so I might as well take a break.
Speaking of freeways, you know what stinks about freeways
these days? There's no breakdown lane anymore. What used to be the breakdown
lane is now the HOV diamond lane.
A guy passed me the other day in a Sunbeam Tiger. I thought,
I'll go after him and wave. I used to have one of those. And just as I pull up
to him, the whole thing goes wooooff!, up in flames! And he has no fire
extinguisher. So he pulls over to the left side of the road and I pull in
behind him. Turns out it was just an electrical fire. We disconnected the
battery and got it out. But now we're stuck in the fast lane and people are
whizzing by. I called the Highway Patrol and they came, but believe me, there's
no place you can even break down anymore. And in new cars, once you're broken
down, you're broken down. The ability to get a modern car going again is
absolutely gone. I always stopped and helped people with car problems in the
old days. Six times out of 10, it'd be a loose wire or something simple. And
you could get them going. But now, all you can do is call for help.
I was on the freeway a few months ago and I saw these five
guys stuck with an old car. I pull up and they're all talking in Spanish. So I
say, "Are you okay?" And they say, "Si, si," and so I offer
my telephone. One guy says, "Gracias," and he dials a number. He
talks for a few minutes, then passes the phone to the next guy, who talks
awhile, then passes it on. Finally, all five have spoken and I'm thinking okay,
what the heck. Finally, I ask for the phone back and go on my way.
A month later, I get my phone bill for that call: $98! Turns
out they called their mother in El Salvador. I'm thinking they're calling the
tow truck and they're calling El Salvador on my cellphone.
People talk about road rage a lot these days. I think it's
all phoney baloney. There's no such thing as "road rage." It just
sounds good on the news. All road rage is, if you put people, if you put mice,
if you put any group of mammals in a crowded situation, some sort of rage will
occur. One of the people or one of the mice will be the first to break or snap
or pop.
Take that person out of a car and he's not suddenly a nice,
relaxed guy. There's something else going on in that guy's head. That guy is
already a possible mental case. That guy is going to react violently in any
situation where he's crowded. I mean, he could be waiting in line for a
restroom at a baseball game, and there's a hundred people ahead of him, and
snaaaaaaaap!
Road rage doesn't happen except in traffic. It's just
crowding. No one goes down the freeway, pulls up next to someone and starts
screaming at them. It just doesn't happen. But road rage has become one of
those great hot buttons newscasters always come up with. It's like that
unintended acceleration thing. You remember: "Cars that kill! Film at
11." All that stupid stuff.
If it happens to you, pay no attention.
It'll go away.
Article Credit: http://www.jaylenosgarage.com
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