Blooming Brilliant

Life can be rugged. When it is, we take steps to protect ourselves. The irony is, we need a little grit in our lives. It’s a balance we need. I’ll try to explain.

If you read this blog regularly, you heard about my Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40 project. I bought the rig on a whim on Facebook Marketplace. It was cheap, looked great, and seemed like a lot of fun. And restoring it has indeed been a lot of fun.

Now that it’s running well and I use it often, I’m reminded of what Mike Brewer of the TV show Wheeler Dealers said of the FJ40 he restored, “It’s rattly, it’s smelly, and it’s blooming brilliant!” Well said.

My rig is a blend of old parts with a few modern upgrades. It has manually locking hubs, a true mechanical throwback, but also a retro-style Bluetooth radio. Much of the interior has been restored but you still put your hand on the original worn knob when you shift gears.

D’Aun gave it a name — Pops Toy.

I’ve mentioned the drawbacks to the FJ40 in a previous post. It goes from 0-60 in … well, I’ve never had the time to clock it. It brakes fast enough to keep me from accidentally rolling into Nevada. It only leaks when it rains. It gets about 10 mpg. It’s bumpy as hell. It has a modest backfire when I shut it off that only scares the neighbors a little bit.

In short, this rig makes no sense. My other cars are more comfortable, safer, faster, better equipped, even better looking.

But driving Pops Toy reminds me of simpler times. There is no onboard computer or GPS. You can feel the gears when you shift. The engine noise reverberates into the interior. You turn a key to start. You pull a lever for heat. You crank the window.

There is a tactile feel to it. It’s not pretending to be something it isn’t. It’s honest.

It also draws you into being fully present. You don’t manually shift a gear without thinking about it. Without power steering, you don’t turn big off-road tires without a little pre-planning. You look multiple times when merging, backing, or turning because there are no cameras or warning lights to keep you from doing something stupid.

If you aren’t fully present, driving is dangerous. Which is a long way to make my point.

Life is dangerous, too. Well, if not dangerous exactly, it’s at least more rugged than we often allow it to be. Like a modern car, we can wrap ourselves in comfort, safety, and superior performance. We bubble wrap ourselves to insulate us from life.

But sometimes we need to get outside that bubble. We need to drive a 50-year-old Land Cruiser. It will wake us up. It will make us pay attention. And, God help us, it will be fun.

Because, like an old FJ40, life is blooming brilliant.