Just like that and the world has vastly changed after a two-and-a-half-year bout with a pandemic. I’m fresh from attending the Seoul Mobility Show—courtesy of Kia Philippines—my first overseas trip since covering a car-audio event in Taiwan in December 2019. That event was held just before the COVID outbreak. Had anyone told me about the many things that would change in my life after three years, I would be utterly incredulous.
In my circle, four motoring journalists have died for various reasons. I have never experienced losing colleagues like this. I now wish that I had reached out to them—that I had been kinder to everyone. I didn’t think about these things when life was full of energy and cheerfulness. When work was about cars and deadlines and parties and trips, we all felt immortal.
Of course, those who know me are aware that I almost died myself. Twice, in fact. There was that aneurysm attack in 2020, and then a stroke 14 months later. That I’m writing this column now is nothing short of a miracle.
Because of my personal brush with death, I have a completely new mindset. And I now know that with this metamorphosis, the industry that I work for has also evolved.
For one, the international car shows have rebranded themselves. What used to be known as Seoul Motor Show now goes by the name Seoul Mobility Show. This is consistent with Tokyo Motor Show now calling itself as Japan Mobility Show. It is clear that the motoring community has shifted from being obsessed with horsepower to being conscious of the need to move people. Instead of bragging about acceleration, automakers now boast about battery range.
In the past, the stars of such motor shows were sports cars. At the Korean event that I just went to? An electric crossover SUV took the center stage: the Kia EV9. Coupes used to be “sexy” in the eyes of industry players; at the moment, it’s all about useful features and technologies. Like a middle-row SUV seat that rotates to allow a passenger to effortlessly disembark. Anything that makes life easier and things more convenient.
One of the changes that have happened to my professional life is working with new faces. Influencers and vloggers, we call them. While our group at Kia consisted mainly of traditional journalists, the guests of Hyundai were a mix of media practitioners and digital content creators. The latter displaced some veteran motoring journalists. It’s sad, but I welcome this. It teaches us that nothing is permanent in this life. It also gives us an opportunity to reflect on the quality of our work. Maybe it’s time we strived to excel in our craft. No more mediocrity.
Which brings me to a thought. I brought two Visor staff members with me to Korea, one with Kia and another with Hyundai. These are young men—passionate and prolific. They remind me of myself 25 years ago. I met both of them during the pandemic. I don’t treat them as mere employees. They’re more like students and little brothers. Their names are Sam Surla and Leandro Mangubat. I always tell them that my time is almost up. That they’re next in line.
Nothing is permanent. Cars, technologies, names, diseases, competitors. The sooner you accept this, the better you will be able to cope and ease yourself into the twilight of your career.
FILL YOUR TANK: “I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and indeed, all is vanity and grasping for the wind.” (Ecclesiastes 1:14)