About 10 years ago, I was minding my own business at a car museum in Launceston, Tasmania. We were having a fine time looking through all the various developments of cars and motorbikes from the very early days. It was an excellent museum. I enjoy the occasional visit to a car museum.
The horror, the horror. With no warning it was upon me. One of the exhibits of a vintage car was one of the sports cars of my youth: a Holden Monaro GTS.
With no warning, no phase-in period, I instantly started to feel old. Courtesy of Facebook, I can relive and share those moments at my leisure.
How can I pretend to be still young when surrounded by a range of sports cars of my high school days at a museum. If the sports cars in my youth are vintage cars I must be a bit of a vintage myself. All my previous experiences with vintage cars was with old cars, usually from before World War II, that had been restored after years of neglect and disuse.
Utopia, you are standing in it! 
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