It's too late at night here and I can't sleep - AGAIN!
My best chum once told me that as a foetus, he was convinced I wasn't
surrounded by amniotic fluid but Castrol Racing. First car was at 3 years of
age and a pre-war pedal car. Then, envy of my friends, I did one good term
at school and got a good report. Dad was surprised and to encourage further
effort invested in another - this time it was an Austin J40 - original ones
are now worth a mint. Sadly, the academic prowess suddenly became a little
deflated. I think I'll be clocking up 55,000 later this month and still a
nut about things on wheels that leak oil. Commercial Apprentice at Jaguar,
Standard Triumph, BL (say no more) BMW, Massey Ferguson, Case International
and GKN. Then worked for myself on automotive business management training
(Parts and Service) Got sick of flogging new cars at an early age so
concentrated on the dirty profitable bit of keeping them running for the
rest of the career. Spent quite a lot of time seeing the world at someone
else's expense which was nice and moved back to Europe in early 90's. Have
spawned two sons. One is a Garden Landscape Designer - the other sees
Hollywood close at hand (at least he hopes it is). Have driven hundreds of
Standards and Triumphs with left, right and centre steering wheels - one had
wires on the front and discs on the back with one of each in the boot. Own
more classics than are good for my health or general equilibrium and bank
manager agrees wholeheartedly. Presently I'm too far apart from my best
friends and I miss them more than I think they miss me. My favourites are
still in store near our former home in France where I used to live until
major illness forced me back to the UK - '59 Frog Eye, '65 Midget, '68 Mk 3
Spurtfire, '69 Mk 2 GT6, '36 Standard Flying 20 (believed to be last in
existence.) For those of you who bought the book, it's the one in the pics
(BRW 777,) '26 AJS 500, '37 'Fanny Barnet' 250 - and now a 2.5PI (here in
UK). Very interested in hydraulics found on modern tractors and known to
become excited when confronted with large old trucks - especially
eight-legger Fodens with Gardner diesels. Greatly enjoy playing about with
compressed air braking systems when the driver isn't looking or within
earshot. Smoke too much, would like to drink too much as well but medication
says no. A known tendency for enjoying good food (preferably cooked by other
people and at their expense) expanding waistline so I haven't seen it for
years and a noticeable hair loss to boot. Garrulous, I'm never bored when I
am talking and others are listening, a distinct preference for slightly
older women. Forgetful and rapidly discovering I spend too much time moving
around each day and wondering what the hell I had gone there for and what I
had planned to do upon arrival. Talk too much about the past and rue the day
that twin cone synchronisers became de rigeur. Known preferences for driving
classics on worn cross plies (Dunlop C41's are ideal) in wet weather,
especially cars with swing axles and over-engined as well. This makes a 2.0
litre Mk 1 Vitesse a preferred mode of transport. A Mk 1 GT6 would be as
much fun but the joints are now getting creaky and flatulence can raise its
ugly head when exerting myself to get in or out. Would like a nice TR5
injection in Royal or Valencia Blue with overdrive - but my ex took all the
money. Would almost kill to own a 1943 Spitfire with fully operational
Brownings, cannon and a Rolls Royce Merlin that had no objection to
operating continuously on full boost. Perhaps if I win the lottery it might
become a reality and then I could afford the C of A, fuel, flying lessons
and ammunition. Spend most days wandering around a rather nice Car Museum
talking to visitors - or to myself, when said visitors have chosen to be at
Warwick Castle instead. Occasionally known to plonk myself in driving seats
and make brmm brmm noises, or take a quiet nap in the back seat of HM
Queen's limousine. It really is very comfy indeed - I'm sure she misses it.
Equally happy with a can of Autosol metal polish or Autoglym Exhibition
Polish, a box of clean rags and a vast expanse of tarnished brass, copper
pipework or paint in need of rejuvenation. With increasing frequency, now
find myself sitting in other seats of old cars parked outside that are
fuelled and batteried. Under such conditions, the left hand is known to
twitch violently and uncontrollably towards things called starter buttons
and then I find myself suddenly becoming very deaf to exhortations to "leave
the bloody thing alone!"
Rapidly becoming extremely eccentric, very absent-minded and rather a bore -
but reasonably happy.
Jonmac
|