Susan mourns the loss of the wing window

Last weekend we went over to our cabin on the eastern slope of the Cascade Mountains. It was a holiday weekend and I-90 was packed, so the drive took us longer than usual. The soulmate and I took Boo and Mojo with us, because they're good travelers and Moj in particular loves the mouse and lizard hunting to be found there.


But it's Spring. And they're medium-to-longhair cats. And they were shedding to beat the band.

Now, ordinarily I don't have an issue with their fur. Sure, I have to vacumn more frequently than I did with my last two cats, but big whoop. By the time we got to our cabin Friday night, however, my left eye was swollen and dry and itched like a sunovagun, and I was so stuffed up I could barely breathe. I felt as though I were covered head to toe in mohair--which wasn't too far from the truth as we discovered the next day when we saw the car in broad daylight. The interior was befurred from stem to stern.

That long, drawn out ride through the dark of the night, however, wouldn't have been nearly as uncomfortable if I'd had a wing window. Anyone else remember those triangular little openings one could use without having to roll down the entire window?

I kept cracking the passenger window to shovel out fistfuls of fur. (Hey. It's biodegradable--it's not like I was littering the highway with Starbucks cups or cigarette butts)

But I digress. The windows in today's cars and trucks aren't real condusive to ridding yourself of things, particularly if they're lighter than air to begin with. Trust me on this: If you flick a wad of wispy fur out the front curve of a modern window, chances are it's going to come right in again via the back curve.

Sigh.

I pine for the good old days when you could crack the wing window and efficiently dispose of the hair from your comb or the crumbs you'd picked out of the roll-and-tuck upholstery without having it end up in the back seat. I liked being able to get a breath of fresh air without having every ounce of style whipped out of my hair. And you never heard that awful whump, whump, whump that sometimes assaults your eardrums when one window is lowered in a modern car. Why would anyone think it was smart to lose such a cool design feature?

And don't even get me started on the air vents on the floor that once could be opened at will to cool down your scorching feet.

What do you miss because somebody new and improved it to death?