Two cars sit unwanted. One in the garage, one on the driveway. Memories of times gone by shone through the wear. Jaunty stripes, dual pipes, and a wooden wheel recall the carefree days of the sixties while the awkward bumpers, overly large side markers, and plastic wheel are scars born from the imposed commands of the late seventies.
Through the age, past the wear, both peer out on the road as an elderly dog in the kennel; silently yearning for someone to take them home and give them a chance to run just one more time.
The roads are full of younger pups now. Fashion and culture dictate a new king and the Miata is it. His reign has lasted decades and seemingly will last forever.
The old cars can’t compete. There times, even when new, were more than double those of the Miata. Even a Honda Fit would leave them in the dust. The braking isn’t that much better. Drums against disks. Pedal modulation vs. Antilock Systems. Dark ages against modern times.
But the gems still shine from underneath. There are rewards to be had. Two cars from a time when owning meant more than just driving. It was a time of familiarity, of courtships and relations. Understanding the car, knowing what it can do, what it needs, how to take care of it. A perfect primer for getting married and raising children. Patience, loyalty, and sometimes, even hardships, would be rewarded with joy, thrills, accomplishment, contentment, and even serenity. They’ll never be as fast as the newer cars, but no new car will ever be as intimate as these two.
There is soul buried deep within these sheets of metal.