Everything Has Potential

See that mouldy old thing up there? That’s my car. A 2001 Daimler 4.0 V8. Interestingly, it’s not a Super, as there is, well, no supercharger. But that’s not the point. The point is that under all that moss and mould, I saw potential in a car other buyers were sniffing around only so they could send it around the banger track. My brain isn’t wired correctly though, so instead of thoughts of being followed in by a Volvo at Mendip Raceway, I saw a glorious car waiting to be revived. 

Came up alright after a wash!

So far, this potential is still evident and bubbling away. The car hadn’t moved since 2017, and I bought it blind because I’m in Bristol and Daimler, um, wasn’t. I bought it off Car & Classic though, so I knew it was a trustworthy advert. But I digress. The point is, the car now runs (it didn’t) and is currently in the body shop having some paint and some repairs done. That’s because of potential. And every car has that potential if you let it. 

Classic cars are more human than machine at this point in time. They have been subject to all manner of work, people, maintenance, adventures and miles. They have lived more than any other sort of machine. And that’s why they’re so special. You wouldn’t buy a washing machine from 1982 and stand back and dream of the potential, not unless you were planning to use the drum as a fire pit (and you should, great idea, that). But with a classic car, you can. Potential is not about going in blind and hoping for the best. Potential is about feel, about looking at a possible purchase, speaking to the owner and then connecting the dots. That’s why I bought the Daimler, it all felt right. The car had, until it was laid up, been looked after religiously, it had been adored, the owner was still – despite circumstances – besotted with it. That showed potential to me. 

When browsing tens of thousands of classic for sale on here, seeing one that is almost what you want but not quite is not something that should dishearten. It should encourage and excite. Those things that aren’t right; the wheels, the paint, that bit of rust, that missing trim – that’s potential for you take the car on and make it into your own and with it, something truly special. You don’t get that with new cars. Potential, if you will, is what connects us to our classics. It’s that ‘human’ thing we talked about earlier. 

With a new car, you order the colour, the engine, the trim etc from a book and the it arrives. That’s not potential, that’s a transaction. But with a classic you can’t do that, you have to make the effort yourself. You have to be the drive (pun intended) behind it, you have to be the impetus that sees the potential within turn into a reality. And by doing so, you love your classic that little bit more. You bond, you understand, you improve. It’s a special thing. 

And what if my Daimler, which I bought solely because of the perceived potential, turned out to be a complete nail that was only fit for the scrap yard – a very real possibility with a long stagnant X308? Well, there would have been potential for a new office chair and coffee table/fine rack made from a V8 engine. See, every car has it.