Most successful people have a routine. For instance, Jennifer Aniston is reported to wake each day at 4:30 a.m. (when working); she then drinks a warm glass of lemon water, moisturizes and meditates. This is followed by a protein shake, spin and yoga.
I have a similar routine when I enter a taxi or an Uber. I climb in, cordially greet the driver and then fumble with the seat belt for five to seven minutes before giving up and trusting my fate to the Gods. This routine never fails to set me up to achieve my full potential.
You know you’ve reached maximum obsolescence when you can no longer navigate the intricacies of the seat belt, a technology so basic that not only primates can master it, but probably raccoons and crows. I understand how the seat belts in my Mini Cooper Countryman work but the seat belts in any other vehicle – particularly those in the back seat – in variably leave me lost.
I asked a friend who works on the ergonomic side of the automotive industry, “Why are seat belts so hard to use now?”
“Could be you and not the belts that are changing,” he replied. “Though I’ve just violated my professional mantra – never blame the user.”
I’ve decided to ignore the first part of what he said and focus on the second. I am not having trouble with seat belts; seat belts are having trouble with me. It is a matter of perspective, like the typos recently discovered on the new bike path signs put up by the City of Toronto. A sign at the corner of Danforth Avenue and Greenwood Avenue says that “Downton” is 2.6 kilometres away. Spelling fascists freaked out, but the spelling is correct, the numbers are wrong. It should read “Downton 5,639 kilometres.”
The first seat belt was invented by Englishman George Cayley in the late 19th century, designed to secure glider pilots. In 1885, American Edward J. Claghorn created a seat belt to protect passengers in New York City taxis. Swedish designer Nils Bohlin created the three-point seat belt in 1958 for Volvo. Bohlin’s creation fastened the upper and lower body. Seat belts became mandatory in Ontario in 1976 and by 1991 they were legally required in all of Canada. Today’s modern seat belts are safer, more efficient, better designed and extremely difficult for me to use.
While airplane seat belts remain almost unchanged, every make of automobile has its own twist on the design. Range Rovers are different from BMWs which are different than Fords and on it goes. There are lap belts, three-point belts, belt-in-seat belts, sash belts, five-point belts and automatic belts, like the ones on the old Saturns that move along the top of the doorway when you open the door.
There are four main varieties of buckle: adjustable, floor mounted, tunnel and fixed. Before, there was just a buckle fastened to a belt that flopped around on the seat. Buckles are now like belly buttons. We have innies and outies. Innies are hidden like buried treasure in the recesses of the seat. My hands flounder as I struggle to locate them. The outies are clumped close together, like flowers. I blindly grasp the wrong one and wind up trying to smash my clip into a bracket that doesn’t fit. (Note: If, at this point in my column, you are thinking up some crude quip mocking my ability to find a “buckle” that fits my “clip,” I want you to know I thoroughly disapprove.)
Middle seats are a forlorn hope. I don’t know which side to check and the buckle is inevitably buried so far into the upholstery that it has disappeared. I don’t even try.
At times the strap gives me trouble. I pull on it and it fights me like Moby Dick trying to shake Captain Ahab. I yank harder and this just makes the strap angrier. I try easing up and pull gently, and the strap plays along for a bit and then yanks taut a few centimetres from the buckle.
If this was all happening in private, it would be bearable but, in a taxi or Uber, it is happening in front of an audience. The driver witnesses my ineptitude and so do any fellow passengers. In between yanks and the clatter of metal and plastic, I’ll try to downplay the humiliation by offering a running commentary. Gems such as:
“Seat belts sure are different today.”
“No … wait … I’ve got it … no …”
“EXPLETIVE.”
The driver will usually offer helpful directions:
“It’s beside you.”
“Not that one. The other one.”
In this moment, I know that for those in the car, watching me try to use a seat belt is like watching a man dressed in a tuxedo eat Spaghetti Bolognese with his hands. Embarrassing for the man. Uncomfortable for the onlooker. The charade ends when I finally locate the elusive buckle or give up.
Perhaps technology will save me. According to appleinsider.com, in June 2023, Apple patented a “restraint with an indicator area” that will light up to help you locate it. “When you get into the Apple Car – which Apple still won’t confirm it’s doing – then you will see bright red seatbelt buckles.” When the seat belt is fastened, the red lights will turn off. “So, the buckle button will light up to help you find it.”
That’s a solution I think could click.