Ramblings of a Grouch

I've slowed down a bit over the past few days. Last year I had my car bonnet repaired. Not through any fault of my own, I hasten to add - a drunken Russian decided the best way to silence the house alarm up the road was to kick my car in.

Anyway, one patch of new paintwork started cracking so I dropped my car off at the bodyshop for a warranty repair. This is what I normally drive:

2 litre engine, 172 horsepower, 0 - 60 in 7.3 seconds.

This is my courtesy car whilst awaiting repairs to be finished (a Kia Picanto):

1.1 litre engine, 64 horsepower, 0 - 60 in 17.9 seconds.

Oh, and it has an automatic gearbox.

But the strange thing is, it's great fun to drive around town. Other drivers don't expect it to accelerate quickly and so make allowances. There's no chance of hitting anyone else as the brakes would stop an aircraft carrier. It does a million miles to a thimbleful of petrol. And, although it's small on the outside, I'm sure you could get most of a rugby team inside (preferably not after a hot, sweaty game).

And I don't even need to worry about parking - if there aren't any spaces then I just pop it in my pocket whilst shopping.

I should be getting my Renault back next Tuesday. Until then I shall float serenely around in my little Kia, unflustered and unhurried.

But I'm looking forward to driving my own car again.

At 5.48 pm on Friday 18th August I pick up my new car. (Why 5.48 pm? That will be the subject of a piece in the Rants section of this blog).

7 years ago almost to the month, I fell in love with Mister2 - a shiny black Toyota MR2. Since my teen years I had always liked the idea of driving a small 2-seater sports car. In those days I imagined this to be a Triumph Spitfire. Through the following years the dream remained just that. Only a dream. It would be expensive, impractical and I couldn't justify owning something like that.

When my father died and all the affairs were sorted out there was a little money left over. Not a lot, but enough to consider realising my dream. And I needed cheering up that year. So I bought Mister2. And wondered for a full week before I collected it whether I had gone completely mad. When I went to pick the car up the salesman drove it onto the forecourt and my only comment was "Oh Christ, what have I done?"

I know now that the answer to that is "Exactly the right thing". I have had 7 years of pure enjoyment. I have driven slowly. I have driven quickly. I have occassionally managed to scare myself shitless. But this is the only car I have ever driven which makes me smile for the sheer pleasure of driving.

But a 13 year old performance car needs more and more maintaining. And a 49 year old body needs a bit of luxury such as aircon, CD player and ABS brakes. So on Friday I will be excited to welcome my new car. And sad to lose Mister2. (That's my trouble - I get too damned attached to my vehicles). But the name will live on in my online persona.

So thanks, Dad, for allowing me to live the dream.

And to Mister2 I paraphrase the late Douglas Adams:

So Long, and Thanks for all the Fun.