If current gasoline prices have any kind of message, it is that we will all soon have to live with litres priced well over a dollar and the realization that perhaps our current vehicles may not be the most sensible.
With timing bordering on the supernatural, Mercedes has announced the long-awaited import of its tiny Smart car -- the latest in dozens of attempts to miniaturize the way we drive.
At the dawn of automobiling, there was little difference mechanically between early motorcycles and early cars and in fact, a whole group of vehicles were created that shared characteristics of both. They were lightweight, tiny cars powered by small engines and often capable of carrying only two people in fairly cramped quarters.
Over-all affordability was what drove these cycle-cars to market. In the 1900s, few in the middle or lower classes could afford the huge brass-bedecked leviathans that were snorting and coughing their way along the dusty roads.
Cycle-cars filled a gap and made for more affordable, if not necessarily more reliable, transport.
Europe had dozens of cycle-car manufacturers and some reached quite large degrees of market success. The French company Amilcar was one and today, a good Amilcar from the early 1920s will set you back tens of thousands of dollars.
Ettore Bugatti, credited with creating the world's most beautiful luxury cars and the world's largest luxury car (the Type 41 Royale), began his career creating vehicles in the cycle-car class.
Cycle-cars persisted in one guise or another in Europe until the Second World War, but they never caught on in North America.
Early North American attempts to create small cars did result in some mechanical oddities such as the Orient Buckboard, a small-motorized wooden platform with bicycle wheels and two small seats. But, while quite collectible today, it was not much more use than a modern go-kart.
Tiny cars such as the American Austin -- built by a company that later became Bantam, which created the Jeep -- could only penetrate a tiny niche market. While serious attempts to introduce small cars started in the late '20s, and continued into the Great Depression, those attempts withered.
After the war, America created some of the largest cars of all time. The 1950s saw North American excess taken to extremes, but even then some thought small cars had a place.
The Nash Metropolitan, an Austin-powered, two-passenger car was laughed at and thought dangerous; German micro cars Messerschmitt and BMW Isetta found few buyers; while others like the Bond and Reliant remained unnoticed.
The only success story of any sort was the Volkswagen Beetle, but, while small in comparison to a '59 Cadillac, it was still too large to be considered a micro car.
In the 1960s, Japan was next to take a shot at miniaturizing the American car, but the first Hondas and Toyotas were treated with more curiosity than serious interest. Their cars grew large enough and were well-enough built to establish a market during the gas crunch of the '70s, but in order to achieve their current sales strength, the companies left the realms of micro car and sub compact a long time ago.
A few anomalies have been created over the last years, such as the Suzuki Swift, but in true North American style, when faced with a decision between common sense or ego-preening consumption, buyers often go with the sport-utility vehicle or pickup truck.
So the Mercedes Smart has its work cut out for it.
We should, for the sake of our pocket books if not our environment, take the Smart seriously. But judging by North American automotive history, the Smart has a better chance of becoming just another cute little oddity to sandwich between our leviathans at the mall.
David Grainger owns an automotive restoration company
