Category: Old Fartism

Those of you who manfully did yesterday’s homework assignment will understand the background reason behind this post.  Those of you who have put up with my countless rants against the creeping intrusiveness of the auto industry — where your driving behavior is tracked, your wallet is picked with “subscription” services, and all the other little games played under the maskirovka  of “convenience” — will also know where this is heading.

So today we’re going to play a little game whereby we go back in time — back when car manufacturers weren’t the bloodless accountants of today, when they weren’t obsessed with controlling you, but were only interested in providing you, the customer, with the very best performance and driving enjoyment that they could.

Here’s the fun part.  You can decide which era would have provided you with the best solution to all that, and then play the game, as follows.

Assume that, somehow, you were given the opportunity of taking possession of a car (or truck) in precisely the same condition as it was on the day when it left the showroom with its first owner.

Which single car would satisfy your needs today?

Let me elucidate.  You’d be looking at a car that was reliable and wouldn’t be breaking down every fifty miles — or even if it did, its woes could easily be addressed by either yourself (if so inclined) or a competent mechanic — and that had adequate performance (you get to decide “adequacy”).

The car could be the one you had on a poster in your bedroom or den, or one you always wanted to own back in the day, but couldn’t afford.  It could even be the car that your Dad owned (and you miss it still), or by a friend or neighbor whom you secretly envied for their choice.

It could be one that you would like to own to carry your family (kids, grandkids, etc.), or just one that you (and yer Missus, if applicable, or a good friend) could use to blast around the country on long road trips, or across terrain that would frighten a mountain goat.

It could be as practical as you wish in terms of luggage capacity, or gloriously impractical (what my Dad used to refer to as a “blonde and a toiletries bag” car).

To help in your quest, you can peruse the websites of various sales outlets such as my favorite, Hemmings, or the du Pont Registry.  The only restriction I’m going to apply is against resto-mod outlets like IDR or Eagle E-type:  your choice must be a bog-standard (optioned by choice), as-issued model from the manufacturer.

So let me start the ball rolling by showing examples of what I would choose.  (As with watches, I’m somewhat constrained by my insistence on manual operation — stick shifts only need apply — but you’re free to go with an automatic transmission, if you’re that way inclined).

1967-71 Mercedes 280 SL (W113)

 

To me, this car has everything:  understated, classy looks (note the interior), that brilliant 2.8-liter six-cylinder engine (“adequate” performance, for me), and enough room to hold suitcases and/or gun bags.  I also like the flexibility of hard-roof vs. convertible driving (I don’t much care for canvas tops because eventually, they all perish and/or leak).  And  they were available with a 4- or 5-speed stick shift as well as auto transmission.  Most importantly, it was built at a time when “Mercedes engineering” was a discipline and not just an advertising slogan:  they built cars to be reliable, and to last.

By today’s standards, of course, it’s not much — most modern economy models could outperform it — but once again, I don’t care about that.  But if I did want a car that could stick with everything on the road, even today, I’d go for the next one:

1997 Porsche 993 Carrera GT

Okay, like Clarkson, I think that Porsche 911s are fugly.  But this one — the last air-cooled model they made — is the least ugly Porsche they made until the Cayman (which isn’t a 911 anyway).  But a 3.6-liter flat six engine and a six-speed stick shift… if that isn’t enough power for most ordinary mortals, there’s something wrong in the definition somewhere.  Also, it has Porsche engineering which means there are going to be many years of relatively-carefree driving in your future.  And if I wasn’t that interested in “racing” (i.e. driving like a bat out of hell) but cruising — assuming the above-mentioned Mercedes doesn’t fit the bill, even though it should, then I’d probably go for this last one:

1970 Mercedes 280 SE 3.5 (W111)

  

This bad boy has the 3.5-liter V8 engine, a five-speed stick shift, and can comfortably seat another couple in the back — say, if I wanted to take a friend plus his spouse out to dinner of an evening, or to the range by day.  And of course this car, by virtue of its vintage, has all the qualities of Mercedes Benz manufacturing as per the 280 SL above.  And for what it’s worth:  among the three cars listed above, the 280 SL wins by a day’s march.

What all the above cars have in common is what they don’t have:  computers and all the electronic nonsense associated with modern cars (like keyless entry, “engine management” systems, “subscription services”, “automatic stop-start” bollocks and intrusive snooping capabilities).  You unlock the door with a metal key, start the engine with the same key, put the thing in gear and drive.  In the case of the two Mercs, there isn’t even a warning buzz or tone to remind you to put your seatbelt on.   (Yeah, also no airbags, which is why they have such clean lines.  The nice thing about the Mercedes cars of that era was that their engineers had perfected the concept of “crumple zones” before anyone else, so even in a direct collision or rollover crash, you had a good chance of survival.)  The 911 is a performance car, so there are risks involved:  your choice.

The above are cars that treat you like adults, and expect you to behave accordingly.

Finally, the joys of off-roading travel have always escaped me;  hence there are no entries like Range Rovers or G-wagens.

Okay, that’s me.  Now it’s your turn.  You can reply in Comments, or just send me an email.  In the latter case, feel free to include pics and/or links.

Here’s the thing:  I’ll post your choices on this website over the next week or so, for others to enjoy/criticize.

Have fun storming the castle…

I have often — and it must be said, not unreasonably — been accused of being an old stick-in-the-mud who too often prefers the old days and old ways to much of modern life.  Here’s an example.

Back when I first lived in the Chicago suburbs (circa 1987-92), I drove an ancient 1970s Subaru GL like this one (only in nowhere near as good condition):

I don’t remember exactly how many miles it had been driven before I got it, but I suspect it was around the upper-120,000 mark.  This car had the advantages of a) being fully paid-off and b) having astonishingly-frugal gas consumption.

Reliability was likewise excellent, in no small part due to its regular maintenance at the hands of Dave, the cheerful owner of Eurocar Services in Des Plaines.  It was Dave who would call me to explain yet again how this or that part was starting to fail, always mentioning how long I could continue to drive it before it actually did, how much it would cost to fix it, and his recommendation as to when I would have absolutely no choice but to do so.  (He also taught me how to “cheat” my way past the strict Illinois emissions test, because there was no way it would have passed without said cheating.)

In this way, I managed to drive the “Scoobydoo” (his affectionate name for it) for about four more years before finally having to get rid of the thing;  because when your clothes start to smell of exhaust smoke when you get out of your car, it’s usually a sign from God or whoever that The Time Has Come.

I should point out that while Dave owned a computer diagnostic machine for the newer cars which could accommodate it, he was just as happy to work on ancient cars like mine that didn’t.

The above memory was triggered by this little story:

More than a million Range Rover and Jaguar drivers could face huge delays in getting their motors repaired after a devastating cyber-attack crippled Jaguar Land Rover.

The British car manufacturer has become the latest big-named firm to have been hit by hackers.

Bosses at Jaguar Land Rover (JLR) were forced to scramble on Sunday, hastily shutting down global computer systems to protect sensitive information.

Efforts are still ongoing to reboot the company’s stricken systems, with the fallout effectively paralysing dealerships and garages, which can no longer order new parts from JLR.

Mechanics across the Indian-owned firm’s franchised dealership network rely on JLR’s diagnostic tech to identify faults and electronic catalogues to order replacement parts.

However, with these systems still crippled, it means owners of vehicles like the Range Rover, Discover and Defender models, as well as Jaguar sports cars, that need to be repaired are now stuck in limbo. 

JLR has insisted it is working to resolve the issue but warned its retail and production activities have been ‘severely disrupted’. 

It is unclear how long it will take the car builder to restore its IT network.

This would never have happened to my friend Dave, because of course he used to order parts by phone from a local supplier, or (as happened more than once) actually driving over himself to a supplier or junkyard to get what he needed.

Was it as efficient as the process is today?  Of course not.  Was it as vulnerable to outside interference as today’s techno-dependent process?  Also not.

Here’s my take.  If it were possible, I’d drive a 1974 Subaru GL (assume new or low-mileage secondhand) today long before I’d drive a JLR product of any variant — not the least because if your driving needs are relatively modest (as are mine), you can get by very well indeed without all that modernistic, expensive and vulnerable bollocks.

As long as there was a Dave around to maintain it.  And I know that Dave is a vanishing breed;  but I also know that he’s not extinct, and never will be — because there will always be some guys who take pleasure in tinkering with mechanical stuff, and gawd love them for it.

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Okay, there are a couple of Jaguar (not “JLR”) cars I’d be equally happy to drive, but they would require a winning lottery ticket.

…and nary a computer chip to be found anywhere in them.  For these cars, there will always be a Dave.