When I was a kid, my dad drove a 15-year-old Volkswagen Beetle that was more rust than metal in a lot of places. The floor under the pedals was completely rusted through and my dad claimed that he sometimes had to start the car by putting it in gear and running with it Fred Flinstone–style. I do remember that there was one underpass on the way to the YMCA which regularly would get a few inches of standing water after a rain storm and when he would drive us to swim lessons, we could count on getting splashed.