Sweat equity

In a world fluent in clicks and swipes, it can be grounding to know that our hands can mould, create and even keep a machine alive

- Charles Assisi

Last Sunday, I stopped at the parking lot near my home, because my friend was at it again.

Half his body had vanished into the open bonnet of a 25-year-old Toyota Qualis. It looked like he and the engine were mid-conversation. We tease him about this weekend ritual. But watching him last Sunday, it struck me that he was enjoying himself in a way that felt unfamiliar, and somewhat enviable.

Like so many of us, this friend had moved into a world of code, cloud servers and invisible software architecture as a young man. All week, he still lives within abstractions. And so, on Sundays, he chooses metal.

It isn‘t a vain or fruitless pursuit (although those can be precious too). Take a drive in this car, and it doesn’t rattle. It handles smoothly. It passes inspection because he makes sure it is well-maintained.

It did not come with a dashboard camera, so my friend sourced one and installed it. When parts disappear from catalogues, he scouts for them in secondhand markets. When the fitness certificate is due for renewal, he lines up to find out where the vehicle stands, adjusts what must be adjusted, and ensures it is registered as roadworthy again. It’s hard work, but he loves it.