It would be as hard for me not to ride a classic bike (at least occasionally), as it would be to resist kissing a beautiful woman (assuming she would want me to). These old bikes are not just sculpture. They simply beg to be ridden. (no double entendre or suggestive meaning intended).
As long as you don't go down on them ( no suggestive meaning intended), the wear and tear is only to the drive train and minimally to the frame.
Would you have a collection of old movies that you refused to watch, because the heat might dry out the celuloid. No. The real beauty of any of these old bikes can be "seen" with the whole body, during a ride. Not riding an old classic suggests a world where visual beauty is honored more than the soul and feel . There is beauty in the feel and in the bike's soul too. Garth Libre in Miami Beach Fl. (broke another spoke last week, but the old Mavic MA40 didn't die, and the rim was back on the road again today.)