Jon gets into the spirit of generosity, embracing ultruism and letting go
Jon gets into the spirit of generosity, embracing Ultruism and letting go
There are two types of car enthusiasts. Like all generalisations, this one is imperfect but may I offer to you a distinction that I have recently experienced writ large.
There are those who hoard parts for their chosen marque, squirrel away more than they could ever use and refuse to part with even a single cog no matter what price is offered or how urgently someone needs it.
And there are those who seem to delight in helping others complete a project, sharing their spare parts and going out of their way to assist anyone in need.
Recognise anybody? Which would you rather be?
I recently visited a man with a double garage bursting with the detritus of a lifetime of industrious collecting. He could barely close the bulging doors but knew where everything lived, down to the tiniest and most obscure piece or relic. He was so insistent that I help myself to anything I needed, and at modest cost, that I was almost embarrassed.
I soon after visited a commercial supplier of new and used spare parts, a long-established business with a formidable reputation. I asked for some not overly technical guidance and was treated like an incompetent idiot by the inappropriately named ‘assistant’, and eventually, somewhat humiliated, slinked out determined never to darken their doorstep again. An assistant who doesn’t assist – just what every business needs.
Why would someone in the service economy regard a visit by a customer as an opportunity to patronise and condescend, to overbearingly impress with their expertise and remind anyone else they are but a fledgling, a mere student of their craft? They also sought to charge a kidnapper’s ransom for a second-hand part that had been sitting gathering dust on their shelves for decades. Their precious spares were treated more like a museum collection than a resource or stock for a business.
Another major business, by contrast, seeking to clarify the exact version of a part that I needed, speedily conjured up a factory workshop manual that we consulted together for technical insights. When I casually remarked that I had never before seen that factory manual, vastly more detailed than the after-market version, they immediately and uninvited insisted on despatching the office junior to the photocopier and for $50 pumped out a complete copy for me to take home – even though it was as thick as an old phone book. Now there is a business I will return to again and again.
But back to the hoarders of spare parts. Surely any genuine enthusiast would be pleased to see more old cars on the road being used, in which case freeing up critical parts from your own stash can only be a good thing. Likewise, being realistic about how many projects can be undertaken and completed within one lifetime is the extension of the same philosophy. How many ads do you see for a clearance sale involving sometimes dozens of once saveable but now too-far-gone wrecks that were “gunna” be restored one day? Instead, they either get dismantled for spares – or in a worst-case scenario – go to the crusher.
I am as guilty as any of seeing my cars through a rose-coloured windscreen, but we have to be honest – with ourselves as well as our families and colleagues – about what is realistic.
We should remember that shrouds do not have pockets and there is no room for rare spares inside a coffin. You cannot take it with you. My step-grandfather Albert, a survivor of the western front in WW1 used to say “Better to give with warm hands than cold ones,” as he gave away as much as he could. I try to honour his attitude and apply it to not just objects but ideas, advice and life lessons learned the hard way.
One of the most rewarding aspects of being part of the old car community is surely the camaraderie and the friendships forged. The value in particular of a single-marque car club is being able to tap into the extraordinary accumulated knowledge and wisdom of the technical gurus who inhabit every association. There is almost always someone who has faced the same technical problem you are dealing with and is happy – even eager – to pass on what they know. Clubs know where obscure expertise resides, which suppliers or specialists are reliable and which to avoid, and how to save time and money.
Even if you do not believe in karma (and I do, sort of…) it is a joyous experience to see a car rattling around with a gearbox or a steering rack – or even a window winder – that came from your spare parts stash. It is a bit like organ donation. Any true enthusiast should become a parts donor today.
From Unique Cars #478, May 2023