As a guy from the middle of nowhere, it's a mandate that you get into one of two hobbies before you graduate high school, drugs or cars. I don't think cocaine lets you run as fast as a car, so I ultimately went with the latter.

In all seriousness, though, I owe a weird amount to cars, even if they just seem to be an abritary mode of transportation.

My first car was a 1994 Mazda Miata in god-awful condition that I bought with the random savings I had procured as a sixteen year old. I don't think there was a single good quality about this vehicle, but I honestly think I learned more from it than I had from anything else beforehand.

The exhaust pipe rusted out, so I learned to weld, the power steering rack failed, so I learned how to install a manual one, the head gasket blew, so I learned to disassemble the block, along with a myriad of other issues. I had literally zero interest in learning any of this beforehand, yet, because I wanted to have a car, I learned.

I honestly think the mechanical sympathy and knowledge obtained by owning a (usually shitty) car can't be accidentally obtained in any other way.

That's not even to mention the community aspects, I've made some of the best friends I have today just because I went to car meets at ungodly hours and did sketchy bolt-on modifications to my car.

There's little to no practical reason for cars to exist in many areas today, particularly given the advancements in public transportation. But quite frankly, I'll hold on to my god-awful project cars until I can't. Is it efficient? No, absolutely not. But there will never be a feeling like driving a car "built" by you that behaves in a way you can perfectly predict--it's probably the closest you can get to being "one with the machine." TM Out.