An Age-Old Discussion
newer or new-ish-car tolerance, sometimes even bordering on grudging acceptance, I want out. When my 2010 commuter appliance can no longer commute, I plan to take a bold backslide into the bench-seat era. While the rest of the world is whooshing along inside their smart phones on wheels enjoying TikTok videos, I want to drive the vehicular equivalent of the avocado-green Western Electric rotary I ordered takeout pizza with in the 1980s, while waiting for the Dire Straits video to air on MTV. This vehicle doesn’t necessarily have to be crank start with a crash-box transmission, but it definitely needs to be devoid of: A. Tablet-sized touch screens; B.C.D.E.F. Driver assistances that apply the brakes on my behalf and;G.H.I.J.-Z. Creepy messages on the aforementioned touch screen telling me that my car wants…