Over the weekend at a motor show in Monaco AeroMobil revealed its first pre-sale version of the AeroMobil Flying Car and as you can see from the picture above, it looks awesome.
As a science fiction fan, the idea of flying cars has always excited me. But, and it pains me to say this, there are clear problems with mass produced flying cars. Sure there are the ones we're all aware of like "how do you organise flight plans", "how do you police flying cars?" and "How do you stop people from accidentally killing themselves by flying into stuff".
These are all legitimate concerns, but there are other problems lurking under the surface of this lofty vision of the future. Problems like:
It will be constantly raining garbage
We've all seen it. People chucking stuff out the windows of their cars. Sometimes it's a fast food wrapper, sometimes it's a smoldering cigarette butt, sometimes it's a banana peel or a deadly, deadly blue shell.
People can be lazy, and it sure is a lot easier to just throw your trash out the window at 100km/h than it is to leave it in your car and have to clean it later. Yuck.
So picture this happening in a world where we have flying cars. You'll need to carry an umbrella everywhere so you don't get smacked in the face by someone's discarded box of chicken nuggets, or accidentally have your hair catch fire because a lit cigarette dropped on you from several thousand metres above.
Sure, you can rationalise that nobody's that lazy, that people will have more decency than to turn their daily commute into the evil plan of a Captain Planet villain. But take a walk on the side of a highway sometime and see just how 'not-lazy' people can be.
Car sickness is going to be a real doozy. As will bathroom breaks.
Car sickness is a problem. In fact it's such a problem that a wonderful website with the public's interest at heart wrote an entire article on how you can help prevent it. Air sickness is also a problem. You see where I'm going with this, right?
If you suffer car sickness but not air sickness then you're in trouble for half the trip. Likewise if you suffer air sickness but not car sickness. If you suffer both then you don't have a prayer.
Again, most of us have been there at one point or another, whether it's because you're a regular sufferer of car sickness or because you had that ninth tequila slammer against your better judgement. The thing is, if you get car sick in a normal, ground based, God-fearing car then you can just pull over and let loose your technicolour yawn in nearby bushland or a conveniently placed median strip or stormwater drain. But when you're in a flying car, that solution ain't gonna... well... fly.
None of this is a problem if you're all stocked up on air sickness bags, right? Well I don't know about you, but the last car I had was fitted with an air freshener that stayed in there, empty, for a few years. So if you're anything like me and struggle with organising yourself then good luck to you.
And you thought raining garbage was bad.
While we're on this topic, here's a question for any parents out there: When you're on a road trip, how many times does your child need to stop and use the bathroom? Now picture needing to go through the rigmarole of landing a damn plane every time your kid needs to go potty. The statement "I told you to go before we left!" will never be said with more frustration.
And you thought raining garbage was bad.
Flying hoons
It's 2.00am. You're sleeping comfortably. You're in the middle of that nice dream you like so much (you know the one I'm talking about. You weirdo), when suddenly you're ripped kicking and screaming into the real world by the sounds of two cars flying low over your house as they blast their devil music while racing each other to 'make-out point' for some sinful, pre-marital ugly-bumping, probably.
This is the world of the flying hoon.
Be prepared to become accidentally caught in a flying drag race (Working out the rules of which will be a problem in and of itself), ready your pearls for a clutching because a green P-plater in a hotted-up WRX Cessna is going to attempt a barrel roll in front of you, get ready to see the parking lot of your local McDonalds have more air traffic congestion than Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International Airport (the busiest airport in the world. Thanks Wikipedia!).
The only winners in this grim vision of the future will be the producers of A Current Affair who will never want for a 'Hoons vs Battlers' story ever again.
Range anxiety to the extreme
Range anxiety refers to that panicky feeling you get when you start to think that your car can't get to where you're going on the fuel you have left. It mostly applies to electric vehicles and it's easy to see why. That sexy new Tesla isn't much good to you when it's sitting dead on a country backroad and you're nowhere near the closest charging station or power outlet.
But when it comes to flying cars, you'll need to take that feeling and multiply it by however scared you are of dropping out of the goddamn sky like you're doing your best impression of the meteor that killed the dinosaurs.
You'll be caught in a limbo of fear and laziness. Fuelling up will require you to go through the hassle of landing, folding your wings, waiting to fuel up behind every other person who has the same fear as you, taking on a load of petrol or hydrogen or electricity or virgin blood needed to complete the ritual allowing you to break the surly bonds of gravity. Then you'll have to wait to take off before FINALLY getting back in the air and doing it again in a few hours when you see the gauge ticking down.
All of that doesn't even factor in what it's going to be like for everyone on the ground.
If you don't do all that then you'll run the risk of either plummeting to your doom or making an emergency landing in a nearby meadow, body of water or suburban cricket pitch and calling NRMA for help. And you just KNOW that the person coming to help you is going to give you the hairiest eyeball they can muster.
All of that doesn't even factor in what it's going to be like for everyone on the ground. As if worrying about falling coffee cups, cigarette butts and vomit isn't enough, you'll be spending every day worried that you're going to get crushed because some jerk decided to see how far they could get on one tank and subsequently made your street look like Moses called down a plague of Camrys.
They'll become boring
If you want to buy the AeroMobil Flying Car it's going to set you back a few million dollars. But that's because flying cars are a rarity, right? Once they become mass produced the price will drop and we can all have a chance at soaring gracefully through the sky!
Except you probably won't be able to afford a really cool one.
While there's nothing wrong with owning a sensible flying car they just won't be as exciting.
The sad reality is, not all flying cars are going to look as cool as the spinners from Blade Runner or Doc Brown's DeLorean, and the ones that do will likely only be available to the guy you see creeping through Toorak or Double Bay in the Aston Martin with the '2RCH4U' vanity plate.
The rest of us will be stuck in flying Corollas. Maybe if you have a family you'll opt for a flying CX-5 and while there's nothing wrong with owning a sensible flying car they just won't be as exciting.
Sure, a flying car is still a technical marvel and in theory ANY car that can spread its wings and take to the skies should be mind-bogglingly amazing. But when you're driving your sensible little car home from work each day how often do you stop and think about how weird it is that you're hurtling over the countryside in a metal pod at a speed once only thought capable through the strength of over one-hundred horses? Yeah, me neither.
