Driving along you'd click it down with the upper third or quarter or eighth of your left foot, and bang: job done, no hands man, it was low beam and keep 'em coming-cars that is.
You know what I'm talking about? How old are you?
Let's see, you'd have to be what, 40, or 35 maybe, if your first car was used, to know what I'm talking about. Because if you count 18 as being first car owning age-and you're 35-now, you were18, let me figure this, a 35 (sorry, I add out loud), year old was 18 in, what, 1992-so yeah, I'm right, if you're in your 30s now, you'd have to have had an older car as your first car to know what I'm talking about; how beautifully the toe clicker high/low beam switch worked.
Remember the sound it made? It was a solid, All-American, "I poured eleven concrete piers today, got done at ten-thirty, pouring the last one tomorrow," guy type sound. Stop reading for a second and if you know the sound I speak of, and listen for it. Solid.
The definitive "kahnahca" sound the clicker made was enhanced by it's being constructed so perfectly that when you pressed down on it your foot would ground off the strength of it's rugged design, sending a not so subtle volt of juice up through your leg to your hip bone creating a muscle memory that, for me hasn't dimmed a titch in more than twenty years. (Partially explains so many baby-boomer hip replacements)
Interesting that the angle your foot rested on the clicker made it so the pressure you applied to operate the switch did not move it in a straight down trajectory, which led one to assume the clicker might wear fast, or malfunction regularly. But it rarely did.