Well, if this is a Magazine, then I'm gonna be the guy who writes once a month about old cars. Because....that's all I've driven.
Lemme start with this one...
1927 Ford Model T Touring
Engine: I-4 L-Head 177 in^3 (2.9L)
Power: 20 HP
Colour: Red with Black Fenders/black top
Interior: Black
Price as new (Inflation Adjusted): $3,271
This. Is a car. and nothing more.
On the several occasions that I've driven my grandfather's Ford Model T, it's been an experience. It has a manual transmission...that's shifted fully with your left foot. There is no gas pedal, that's operated by your right hand. There's not even automatic spark advance, THAT'S operated by your LEFT hand!
The Model T was designed to be a car for a developing nation. It's been well documented that automobiles were toys for rich people up until Henry Ford created a segment-breaker: we now know that as the "Bargain Basement" or "People's car."
Let me tell you, though, a Tata Nano looks like a Rolls Royce compared to even this last of the Model T vehicles. You get one instrument. One. And instead of something useful like a speedometer or temperature or fuel gauge, it's a magneto/generator gauge, which tells you if you're drawing from the car's battery, or charging it. Want to cool off? Open the windshield. Want to warm up? Good luck, unless you want to get an aftermarket accessory that allows you to take heat off the exhaust manifold.
The fact that grandpa's "T" is a 1927 model is fortunate: Only one year earlier, Ford moved the fuel tank from under the seat to over the cowl. This is because the car has no fuel pump. If you went up a steep hill in the early models...you got no gas. Thus, you turned around and reversed up.
We don't have to worry about that today, though. With our high-mounted tank, we simply open the petcock-valve, allowing the gasoline to fill the line to the simple Holley Carburetor. We also dont' have to worry about a backfire taking our arm off: the car has an electric starter, although the crank IS there, if you want to rip your arm off...I mean, use it.
Step in. kind of difficult: The door is roughly a foot and a half long in this open-top "Touring" model, but you sit high and proud, like in an SUV. You don't feel nearly as safe, though. There's absolutely no metal to protect you, no collapsible steering column, no safety belt...and no way to tell how fast you're going.
Okay, time for the "Dance of starting." Pull out the choke, retard the spark (this one has a non-original Bosch 09 Distributor, but you still can manually adjust the timing) crank her over with the floor-mounted starter...when it fires, move the spark lever back, push in the choke, and turn the choke knob until she runs right: you can adjust the fuel metering, too.
Now, put the rightmost pedal halfway in, reach your left hand down and set the parking brake/gear lever to "low" That's halfway forward, operated by a lever remarkably similar to a steam locomotive's reverser lever. You do this to lock out high gear, which is engaged by putting the lever full-forward and keeping off the pedals.
To reverse, press in the center pedal slowly and gently, (despite the thing feeling heavier than a racing clutch - no power assist on anything,) while adding throttle with the hand lever. It's the precise reverse of using a clutch in a manual car. Back out onto the street...now, put the "reverser" lever full-forward, with your foot halfway in on the "C" pedal, which is all the way to your left. All the way to your right is the brakes...only on the rear wheels.
Now, press "C" All the way down, until you engage low gear. Accelerate up to about 10 miles an hour (guessing, of course, by the engine noise,) and let up on everything. You're now in high gear and good for 45!
Of course, you don't dare go that fast. You have no stabilizer bars, two springs (You'll never call normal leaf-spring setups "buggy springs" again,) No shock absorbers, four oversized Bicycle tires, and miniature chuck wagon wheels. You plan stops well ahead of time, Because there's only two (rudimentiary, at that) Cable-actuated drum brakes to stop you. Not to mention, the steering on this example has about 1/8 turn of slop in it. That's tight for a T.
It's even worse on these country backroads, which must've been paved roughly the time this car was built. You dance about on the narrow, bumpy lanes, keeping eagle eyes on the lookout for more modern machines (read, just about everything) as you saw at the wheel, trying to keep it out of a ditch.
And, yet, there's a smile on my face as my butt bounces on the vinyl bench seating surfaces (non-original, though the springs in them are,) underneath the billowing canvas roof. Because it's so high up, there's a flat floor, and it's not uncommon for five or six of us (especially the kids) to come along on the excursions. Sure, we're all packed in like the Clampetts, but we're out here, having fun.
and it strikes you that Dearborn made 15 MILLION of these things, most without the "luxuries" of things like the electric starter, a gas tank that always worked uphill, electric headlamps, or even COLOR: Between 1914 and 1926, the only color you could get was black. (early and late Ts could have a small selection of colors)
Not only did people not have those luxuries, but they used their cars on a daily basis. On Sundays, You might see Ma, pa, Granddad, Uncle Joe, and four or five kids crammed into the family car, headed to Church, in a fashion none too similar to our Clampett-esque excursions. This...is a real car. It's not much, but that's what it is. Much like the farmers who drove them, The "T" is humble, yet gets the job done.
No, it's not sporty or fast, (or quick, even requiring a "Slow Moving Vehicle" triangle at times,) no, it's not stylish or, compared to contemporaries, desirable, (at least, it wasn't then,) but it's an honest-to-goodness get-you-where-you-want-to-go machine. Even the Air-cooled Volkswagen seems luxurious compared to a "T." It's the ultimate in No-frills motoring. You don't even get Windows.
So it strikes you, that you're driving history, and as you see the tot flash by in his dad's Buick, pointing and saying "Look at that!" through the window, you get it.
Old cars...are cool. Sure, you'd never drive one daily...but every now and then, it's nice to be nostalgic.
Just remember: If it's a '25 or older, drive up the big hill backwards.
I stepped into a car cult before, and the Church of Mercedes was as expensive as tithing to the Church of scientology. 
Indeed. I would wave at W124 E classes, and they'd wave back occasionally. Once I got into a 90 mile per hour wolfpack with a 190E and a 300E. When we got into town, it was like nothing ever happened. 
