Old Cars Are Just Better

"Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig" (AndySheehan-StreetsideStig) 07/15/2016 at 14:01 • Filed to: None

16

21

At 4 this morning, I decided to admit to myself that sleep wasn’t coming, so I got up. Hands shaking, I customized my new phone until I could reasonably get dressed and drive down to Dagwood’s, the nearest diner open at 5. Dagwood’s was already ancient by the time my ’87 CRX was in development. It was dishing up massive half-orders of biscuits and gravy when the first Camaros rolled into Kansas City. It made pancakes when the Willys Jeep was still shuttling GIs toward victory in Europe. As I shoveled similar pancakes into my mouth, a sturdy brace to a stomach bitterly void of all but heavy pain meds, I got to thinking about that old rusted heap of Honda parked just outside.

Last Saturday, my friend and I met his coworker, John, at their engineering shop so John could skilfully weld back together the CRX’s broken rear unibody support. A 30-year veteran of his craft, John took about 4 hours to make the support element stronger than it had ever been, getting the CRX back on the road. Still, while it was up on the lift, I couldn’t help but mourn the unibody joints at the front of the car, which are quickly headed toward a similar fate.

It needs a new shell. I’m not sure a complete frame-off resto would even be worth it. Finding a clean desert shell should do the trick. But my mind went to this first, rather than to the scrapper.

Because I love this old car. I love old cars in general.

See, when the CRX broke, I bought a ’98 Civic sedan to fill the daily driving role until I could have the little two-seater patched up. And I like the ’98. It’s incredibly reliable, surprisingly quick, and still fairly simple. But everything it is, the CRX is to a greater degree. No, the CRX isn’t faster, but it feels faster, and the feeling of the car was what I needed this morning, as the pre-dawn Kansas City fog clung to my shaking skin.

Due to bad genes, poor care, or pure chance, I have an abcessed tooth throbbing in my skull right now. It came on quick and shot me through with the most pain I’ve felt since I tried to cut my hand in half !!!error: Indecipherable SUB-paragraph formatting!!! . So I waived my usual, cautious sobriety and filled my dentist’s prescription for hydracodone. And yesterday was fine. Extremely fine. Fine to the finest degree. It was like a warm, pharmacutical hammock. I felt the odd sensation of being 20 again, my body free from all pain, great and subtle. I understood the appeal.

Then I tried to sleep, and spent all my energy scratching like a heroin addict, but despite an array of prayer, reading, shifting, and more drugs, I still couldn’t get to sleep for more than a total of 53 seconds. Thus began this morning’s quest for whole pounds of carbohydrates. I needed something in my stomach.

But I also needed a little adrenaline rush to jump start my second day awake, and the CRX dosed me up. Not that it’s a fast car. Not with 91 pensioner horses hobbling along under the hood. But the car is so connective . It’s so engaging. I find this in many old cars. Even slow ones. I think an old car’s connection occurs for two big reasons, and they both have to do with simplicity.

Simplicity of Design

You know all those cheap internet memes, with the driver looking back at his or her car, and the bold, white text saying something like, “If you don’t look back every time, you bought the wrong car, and you should crush it and blow it up.” It’s a silly notion. Nobody looks back at the car every time . Except that I do. I’m the cheap meme. I love looking at my car. It’s a work of art, a perfect representation of the protractor and ruler styling of its age. The proportions are flawless.

It’s a design for the sake of design, and all old cars have that quality. Form over function. Beauty over utility.

Okay, not really. Even back then, it was vastly more complicated than that, and designers certainly didn’t call all the shots. I mean, look at that rally-spec wheel gap. Smaller wheels are cheaper and allow for more suspension travel, and lowering the car any more would have made it impractical. And there’s always cost. Not every car can have a glass roof, because people who buy Ford Festivas would rather not sell their fillings to afford them. Car designers have always had to adhere to function. But designers of yore could hide that function better. They had fewer parameters. They were allowed to design beautiful cars, and it was good. Because people like to buy beautiful cars.

But surely it’s not so different today, right? I believe it is. Nothing changed overnight, but in the wide scope of decades, car design has begun to require more safety and better aerodynamics. Cars get bigger on the outside but smaller on the inside because they need to accommodate more robust skeletons that can withstand greater impacts. They get stubby little trunks because engineers need to eliminate drag, improving efficiency and saving those precious MPG decimals. Especially since cars can’t be light anymore, due to those thick, dense bones.

And designers, God bless them, try to hide it. Let’s skip ahead several generations of Civic to the current line. It has an awkward, drooping roofline and a blunt, abrupt nose. The former is required to cut down on drag, and the latter to meet pedestrian crash regulations (because we need to design around the people crossing the street while catching Pokemon). But you’ll also notice the busyness of the design. It’s riddled with creases and lines, accents and inserts, all of which are strategically placed to draw the eye away from the ungainly general shape of the car. The slight arch over the rear wheel and the chunky taillight redirect attention from that roofline, and the oversize fog light mounting and deep-cut headlight (with the ugly plastichrome eyebrow) distract us from the weird nose.

But I’m not complaining. If not for the heroic efforts of these designers, the 2016 Civic would look like this, a picture of bare aerodynamic efficiency in the modern age:

Still, you can’t blame me for preferring a simpler aesthetic. I always have to look back. It’s not all about the look, though.

Simplicity of Engineering

The CRX has no power steering. It’s manual, direct, and absolutely perfect. And if the torsion bar suspension up front could be a bit firmer, it was chosen to keep the nose low and the handling predictable. Since the wheelbase is shorter than my attention span after last night, my car is officially the dartiest on the planet. It can jut around corners with ease, always perfectly settled, as long as the tires and the shocks are in decent trim.

The go pedal is attached to an actual throttle cable, so there’s an eager pop at the edge of the revs, a sharp rush of breath, like a dog’s when he’s ready to play. I can literally hear the origin of the power, the moment it wants to go.

Advancement in automotive technology is wonderful. Today, cars are faster, more efficient, and often more reliable than ever, all thanks to dozens of strata of futuristic engineering. Direct injection, hybrid drives, automation. It’s an important vector for transportation, and I wouldn’t stop it if I could.

But when I climb into an old car, when I stab that cable-connected throttle, I’m usually not doing so for transportation alone. I’m touching another world. (Keep in mind, I’m on some very powerful pain killers right now.) As we all know, a car doesn’t just transport you, it transports you. In moments, it moves you at speeds once thought impossible and deadly for the human frame. It ushers you into an experience you can only get there, a world of metal and asphalt and wind.

A good car is like an ambassador to that world, a mechanical tour guide, a liaison between mushy, vulnerable flesh and immutable steel and pavement. It’s a machine meant to be experienced as a machine. It doesn’t apologize for its identity. You’re supposed to know that you’re driving, to feel like you’re driving, interacting with a machine. An old car doesn’t want to distract you from that. That’s the joy of driving a car. It doesn’t really soak through the same way when you ride the subway.

But I think that so often a modern car is engineered to help you forget you’re in a machine. It begs your forgiveness for getting you up off your couch, out from in front of your TV. Everything is softened, complicated, quieted, and automated until you’re still in your living room. And indeed, based on the public enthusiasm for driverless, shareable cars, that’s where we’re headed.

Obviously, not all old cars share this quality. Heck, we can trace the living room cockpit back to the couchy bench seats of coach-built motoring. We can trace infotainment to the in-car HiFi. But I’m not just talking about luxury cars as a whole. A good luxury car still celebrates its cardom. Classic luxury cars would do this with huge, authoritative engines and suspensions that could have run comfortably over World War 1. They focused on engineering. And modern luxury cars often have neat engineering features, as well, with all the turbos you could want, magnetic suspension, and perfect tires, all of which are installed to chew up Nurburgring records with frightening regularity. But how often are they forgotten behind adaptive cruise control and Spotify?

Old cars are addicting. They bring out an itch to drive. They demand to be driven again. An old car invites its driver into a negotiation. It shares power. So many newer cars just try to take over.

Now, I know that this is something of a sliding scale. I have zero interest in breaking my wrist on a crank starter, and I rather like not having to tune carburetors (though I do love a classic carb setup). Some of you don’t consider an ’87 CRX old, and some see my ’98 Civic as old.

I do, too, in some respects. I enjoy the classic nature of it. It was the last “small” Civic, and if you take out the intake resonator (I did, of course), you can drop Wisconsin through the engine bay and it will hit the ground. It’s still simple.

And on the plus side, it’s not rusting like a Soviet submarine.

In fact, I take back the title. Maybe “better” isn’t the right word. And maybe I just chose it as clickbait. And maybe I’m a little glad I drive the majority of my miles in something more modern. But this morning, in the fog, when I had nothing to run on but hope and 91 horsepower, I was glad for my classic. Old cars fill a role new cars just can’t. And you should get one.

This post originally appeared on !!!error: Indecipherable SUB-paragraph formatting!!! , but you get it FOR FREE. Because you got a good GPA this semester.

and 100 more > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 14:26

1

Beautiful reflection. Well done!

Deal Killer - Powered by Focus > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 14:34

1

Nice write up. I’d much rather have a well maintained late 80's or early 90's Civic or Accord than a new one at the moment. Simplicity in engineering and ownership have their merits.

As to pain medication, nothing beats this. A little, and I mean very little, killed my fucked up back pain deader than dead. It was the best I had felt in 15 years, easy.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > Deal Killer - Powered by Focus 07/15/2016 at 14:45

0

Thankfully I’m off the pain meds today. The antibiotics are clearing up the source of the pain.

Daily Drives a Dragon - One Last Lap > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 14:59

1

I’d tend to agree. Except I do like my air conditioning.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > Daily Drives a Dragon - One Last Lap 07/15/2016 at 15:04

0

Ironically, the AC in my CRX works, but doesn’t work in my Civic.

Ross Kraz > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 15:13

2

Couldn’t agree more.

I love the utility of old cars and their unforgiving nature. They are bare-bones and serve a purpose, all in their own style. A Cadillac, a CRX, a Fiat 124... totally different and they don’t compensate. Whether you want luxury, economy, or thrills, you can have it. But you probably only got that one thing, and that gives it character.

Today it just seems like every car has the same layout, the same options, looks the same and feels the same. Every brand; every market; every tax bracket. They attempt to do everything and not just one thing. They are the automotive equivalent of “jack of all trades, master of none”.

Deal Killer - Powered by Focus > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 15:21

2

Tooth pain is the worst. I broke a molar, and it got infected. There was not enough Tylenol in the world to ease that pain. Ended up getting it pulled. Unpleasant to say the least.

notsomethingstructural > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 15:38

1

Good writeup. I had a ‘96 SE-R where the power steering was shot, the muffler rusted out, no AC so the windows were down, etc, and it was indistinguishable from a giant go-kart. Just a fun car to dick around in. Good stuff.

RallyWrench > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 15:39

2

You should take painkillers more often, this was a great read. Easily a front-page piece.

Also, “Classic luxury cars would do this with huge, authoritative engines and suspensions that could have run comfortably over World War 1.” is a great line, well done.

Also also, that red 2002 is perfect, what I wish mine will be someday.

Also also also, if you want to reshell your CRX or just find one that’s rust free, let me know. They’re still cheap out here in CA. Wonderful cars.

Also also also also, hydrocodone is weird shit, I hate when the doc makes a prescription for it. Insomnia and restlessness suck.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > RallyWrench 07/15/2016 at 15:52

0

So glad you liked it! And yeah, staying away from the Hydro now.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > Deal Killer - Powered by Focus 07/15/2016 at 15:53

0

Oh yeah. This one’s getting a root canal next week. Joy of joys.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > Ross Kraz 07/15/2016 at 15:54

1

That’s a great point that I hadn’t thought about. A car these days is expected to do everything, so it ends up doing nothing well.

gmctavish needs more space > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 16:18

2

This was a great read, I have very similar sentiments and had considered doing something along these lines, but this is a hell of a better writeup than I would’ve done. I really enjoy what you said about an old car taking you to another time, or letting you experience it in a way, at least. I most profoundly felt that when I had my 1969 Volvo 144, was driving home late at night one time with no one else on the road, and old Bowie was playing on the Volvo’s original radio. The way I summed it up then, was there was no way to tell you weren’t in the early 70s, except for knowing that it was 2014.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > gmctavish needs more space 07/15/2016 at 16:27

3

Awesome. There’s a definite rawness to driving an old car. It’s motoring unfiltered, just you and the machine and the road. A good friend of mine has a ‘52 Buick Super, and when I go visit we drive the back roads through the corn fields. Nothing around but crops that could have as easily existed when the car was built.

CobraJoe > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 17:01

2

Very well written, and it’s exactly why I love driving my ‘88 Thunderbird. There’s a simpleness to it that is hard to explain, especially to anyone who isn’t a gearhead.

And modern luxury cars often have neat engineering features, as well, with all the turbos you could want, mangetic suspension, and perfect tires, all of which are installed to chew up Nurburgring records with frightening regularity. But how often are they forgotten behind adaptive cruise control and Spotify

I think the styling today has a similar problem. There’s an abundance of eye catching details to the point of saturation, but there underlying proportions are rather bland. I noticed that with my ‘05 Legacy GT: It looks good, but only because of the details like the lights and hood scoop. Take those away and it’s pretty bland. The ‘88 Thunderbird is the opposite, it has few details to catch your eye, but the overall shape is quite pleasing.

The older I get, the more I appreciate the lines and proportions of the 80s cars.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > CobraJoe 07/15/2016 at 17:13

0

Exactly. And I think the ‘80s were the last full decade when a car could really be designed for the point of design, rather than being so heavily influenced by the other considerations.

Collins Reynolds > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 17:46

1

A great article! I think you captured the magic of older cars just right. My xB Daily is great at transporting things, sure, but it doesn’t have the same magic that the XJS does.

There’s just something about how cars were designed back then. Sure, the Scion is simple, but that also means it’s no fun, in a way. As Nigel would say over there, the Jaguar is quite mental. A Lucas ECU that sends a signal to a Marelli ECU that talks to a pair of Lucas logic controllers that send signals back to Marelli coils, all in the name of “modern fuel injection” at the time. Despite how much it makes me complain at times, it certainly isn’t boring.

Airbags were certainly around in 1989, but they weren’t required yet, so the designers opted to keep them out as long as they could so as not to upset the wonderfully designed super-slim dash and steering wheel. (I’m not being facetious, I love the interior. Who needs airbags?) Things like that aren’t an option today.

Oh, and it has an actual throttle cable too.

NinetyQ > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 21:49

1

WHAT. I had no idea the AC in that thing would still work. Amazing.

Birddog > Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig 07/15/2016 at 22:48

1

A day ago Paul Niedermeyer wrote a piece titled “QOTD: Do We Remember Our Old Cars With Rose Colored Glasses?”

This explains a lot and you may want to send it to him at CurbsideClassic.com

Have you joined the SDAC?

Birddog > CobraJoe 07/15/2016 at 22:55

2

The 1987-88 Thunderbird and Cougar were the pinnacle of the Fox chassis cars. It didn’t get better.

Newer car designers are trying too hard. When auto “journalists” claim a car isn’t exciting enough it’s like a death blow. Next thing you know we have Bulldog looking 4 Runners and Predator face Luxury cars.

I’m a bit tired of cars that look like they were designed by failed Anime artists.

Andy Sheehan, StreetsideStig > Birddog 07/18/2016 at 08:17

0

I’m unfamiliar with the SDAC. Probably. What’s it stand for?