Owners of antique automobiles experience driving from a different vantage. It’s not for everyone. The earlier cars, those made prior to electronic control systems, are pure machine for better or worse. They require maintenance that modern cars with their improved metallurgy and other enhancements don’t need. Gone are the days when the valve lash must be adjusted every 12,000 miles and nuts, bolts, and screws should be checked periodically for loosening. Now, the belts, filters, and sensors wear out or whole systems fail but only after many miles on the road (for the better brands).
The British sports cars were known for electrical maladies in their heyday in the United States. That, and oil drips. My Land rover has four standard drip puddles beneath it, which I should remedy. Both differentials, the transmission, and a mystery spot all contribute.
Even at their best, the smart owner will have to work on them periodically. They are not vehicles that you can own and use without access to tools or a willing mechanic. I can think of a half dozen things that my Land Rover is waiting for me to do to it, and it’s an excellent rig.
But this cartoon is about the “Lotus Position”. It could apply to just about any early Brit car with the fabled Lucas wiring and their need for tinkering. Short of removing the dash, one has no better access to behind the instrument panel than laying on one’s shoulders where feet would normally be with your legs extending out the door like insect antennae.
The “Lotus Position” is when you have to position yourself to work behind the dash
Last year I polled the members of a users group that I frequent looking for ideas for a cartoon panel I contribute to Lotus-Europa.com. The Lotus Position was one of those awful things that we experience that somehow brings smiles. I decided to tackle it.
I keep these cartoons simple in design but I want them attractive. So I don’t feature the sort of driver who most often owns the keys. Artistic license is good.
Rather than allow the concept to remain an inside joke, I added two other persons who are assisting in the repairs. One leans on the front, examining the original shop manual. The other examines the simple wiring diagram, positioned near the half lowered passenger window where the needful communication with the one who is contorted under the dash in the car.
I started out with them in dresses, which looked wrong. No one works on cars dressed like a 1950’s housewife. So, although the shoes still do not meet shop standards, now they are in coveralls, except for Miss Legs. To further qualify what exactly they are doing, I drew in a tool cabinet with the voltmeter and a few other standard items on top.
