By Rachel Chiang | Assistant News Editor
“I don’t get them dents buffed, pulled, filled or painted by nobody. They way too valuable.”
Quoting the words of a renowned and beloved character, Sir Tow Mater, teaches a lesson on being content that’s more valuable than Lightning McQueen‘s racing career ever could.
When I first learned how to drive, it was in the 2002 Toyota Camry that had been passed down from my aunt to my dad before it went to my mom, my brother and then finally me. That car has traveled from California to Texas to Massachusetts and then back to Texas. It has seen more states and miles than probably most Americans. That same car was the one I drove to class everyday in high school and the same one I drove with my friends to make late night Sonic runs after Friday night football games.
Although I no longer drive that car, it holds a special place in my heart that no new car ever could. If given the choice, I would drive a banged up, run-down car over a Tesla or BMW.
Crime is a reality. Driving a car that looks like it reflects the numbers in my bank account dissuades anyone from robbing it. I was never afraid to leave it in a shady parking lot or forgetting to lock the doors. There’s nothing valuable in there, and just looking at its exterior is a clear reflection of that. The windows aren’t even tinted, so although the summer heat will make you cry, robbers have a clear view of the empty interior.
I may have passed my drivers test on the first try, but I’m no Formula 1 driver. There may have been a few instances I have bumped a curb or barreled past a speed bump, but I drive with no fear because my car, Herbert, had his fair share of scrapes, scuffs and scratches just like we do from experiencing life. They are badges of honor to show we have survived tough situations and like a scar, they tell a story.
As an avid thrifter and a vintage aficionado, driving a car with outdated features is cool. Cars these days rarely have CD players let alone a cassette player. I may have never known how to use the cassette player, nor do I have any tapes to play, but it was a feature I was proud to have in my car for any chance I may use it. Plus, with older cars that have windows you manually rolled down, they were much safer in the case of an emergency. If the power goes out because you can still escape if needed.
With new cars comes new technology. I learned how to parallel park by using my windows and my environment. Nowadays we have cars with backup cameras and self-parking tools. These features are cool and all, but many young people have expressed if they didn’t have a camera they would have never learned how to back into spaces or parallel park. If you’ve ever been to Austin, knowing how to parallel park is the same as needing to know how to breathe. You can’t rely on technology. If you become obsolete without the fancy features in your car, then you need to learn how to function without them — technology can always fail at any moment.
Driving an older car is like conversing with a respected mentor. They teach and provide you with experiences you wouldn’t have had if you woke up on your sweet sixteenth with a pair of keys to a new Mercedes-Benz. Learning to be grateful to even having a car and not using public transportation is a luxury not everyone has.
“I come by each one of ’em with my best friend Lightning McQueen. I don’t fix these. I wanna remember these dents forever,” Mater said.
Heed these words. Driving an older car is not embarrassing. Life is a highway, so embrace the things that hold the most memories — including your first car.
