I miss the days when cars were simple. You stuck your key in the lock, gave a turn, and you got in. If you pulled into a gas station, you would crank your window down and pick your octane. Nowadays cars are automated up the yinyang. We no longer have keys; we have a remote control. That’s to keep guys happy once they’re outside the home, away from their televisions and surround sound stereo systems.
The guys who invented the crank windows in cars must have felt secure in the knowledge that their heirs would be set for life. Instead we now push or pull a button to electronically raise or lower our windows. Before I got a car with power windows, the attendants at gas stations would approach me from the passenger side and raise an eyebrow in disbelief when I summoned them to my side because I actually had to crank down my car window. They treated me as if I came from another planet.
The biggest disadvantage to power windows is that snow won’t slide off when you put them down; with a crank window that was one thing I liked to control from inside the car, especially after spending a half hour clearing off everything else that had snow on it. Those days are gone.
People approaching their vehicles have a unique ritual; they assume a stance akin to summoning the family dog, and with feet apart they raise their arms, point the remote at the car and press the door unlock button. Some cars talk back when this happens, and in a parking lot it’s a chorus of chaos.
We have become attached to technology and pressing buttons with the skill of Ken Jennings after his third or so “Jeopardy” appearance. Our Jetson-ized society has permeated every aspect of life. Even toilets have buttons instead of handles, though I don’t think that makes them any more sanitary.
Unfortunately I’ll never feel totally in control as keymaster of my car. The darn thing still has the burden of running on batteries.
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