What a great way to spend a Sunday. There were so many brit cars I was
completely saturated after 15 min. There were several stately Rolls,
Bentleys and Jags, a few Austin Healys, a DB-4, a Jag C type, tons 'o Loti,
oh man, just EVERYTHING! Oh yah, some Triumphs too, I think. I really
don't notice them. Hey Bob Lang, where were you? I checked every TR6
label for your name, in vain. In fact I saw no evidence of any SOLers. Very
disapointing, I was looking forward to meeting some of you.
Something clicked in me yesterday, as I roamed and druelled at nearly 100
seamingly perfect examples of every car I ever wanted to cherish for myself.
It was the realization that no matter what I do to my B, it's just, well,
an M.G.B. And for so long I have been so proud of my car, for being
fun, for doing it all myself, and for being British. Until yesterday that is.
Those other cars made me feel like a poor little boy who should just keep
quiet about his pathetic little wanting B, and if I had the NERVE to drive
it in the presence of these REAL automobiles, I should have the good grace to
park it up on the hill in back of the museum, in the back row if you please.
Oh, all those pretentious bastards who prance about in their big E type
cats. Starting up with a growl at 1:30 as the clouds threatened rain. Hurrying
home to eat caviar and watch the world cup by the fireside, sipping champange.
The immaculate Healy and XK crowd, standing around faking English accents,
celebrating their own class. I am not, and know now, have never been worthy
of this level of British car ownership. I, in a word, suck. Where is that
big knife in the kitchen?
Well, after thinking about all this I have a new philosophy to hang onto. Those
beautiful cars, and lovely people, really do have something in common with me.
A love for outstanding examples of British cars. And the same principles that
apply to them also apply to me and my modest B. They spend a LOT of money, and
I spend a LOT of time, to make our cars the best they can be.
I have to think that most Scions are in the same boat as I am. Normal people
with very little $$, but lots of heart. I really am grateful that there are
people committed to the preservation of these art works. (Yes, the engine
of that Bentley was truly a work of art). But just as I thought my car was
really coming into its own, I realize that it will never be worth much of
anything to anybody, but me. Maybe that's all that really matters.
Scions, thank you for the counsel. I'm no longer reeling from the devastation,
my scrappy car and I are going to be just fine.
Skip "still babbling senselessly" Cusack
'72 B roadster (Daily driver)
'74 BGT
'85 BMW 524td turbo diesel
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