Good news, the Triumph is coming,
Good news, the Triumph is coming,
Good news, the Triumph is coming,
And I don't want to be left behind.
Okay, I took a bit of liberty with the above quote, taken from the first cut
of the "Front Porch Music" CD done by Linda Tillary and the Cultural Heritage
Choir. While in the kitchen cranking the tunes and cleaning up after a tasty
taco dinner, I would have sworn the lyrics above are correct, though the actual
wording is "the chariot is coming." Like a few other tunes, I'll likely sing
along with my version of the lyrics, regardless of the actual wording. Luckily
I don't usually sing in public.
Back to the subject. You may or may not have read various snippets from all
sorts of sources about this concept, having a closet full of cars from which
to choose when the need arises. A few memorable posts about this subject have
been done by Scott Fisher of the bay area. Long time followers of various
Team.Net efforts no doubt know of Scott and his writing abilities. I just took
the liberty of adding Scott to this list, though he currently owns no Triumph.
This message will be his first from the Friends of Triumph list.
I do see a certain bright yellow MG Midget in his future come the Memorial Day
weekend, but no Triumphs. He came pretty close to owning a Wedgewood Blue TR3
a while back, but due to a ceratin party flaking out big time (I won't mention
my name here) that deal didn't work out. The pile of parts that would have been
that TR3 is currently gathering dust in another garage about 25 miles south of
here. Anyway, Scott is one of us, regardless of what he's driving at the
moment.
Okay, the automotive wardrobe. You likely own more than one pair of socks,
more than a single pair of underwear, and likely at least two shirts. There's
a selection from which to choose, depending on mood, weather, where you are
going, what you plan to do and such. The same thinking can be applied to our
vehicles. On a bright sunny day like May 1st, 1999, a Salt lake resident might
want to drive a lively little Spitfire, though a competent all-wheel drive Jeep
would be the vehicle of choice when heading up the hill in a snowstorn to whack
on the servers that didn't gracefully recover from the power bumps.
Endless discussion could be had pontificating on what vehicle goes best with
which situation, what features are absolutely necessary for a run to Oregon
to save a Spit from the crusher, or to have a shot at that autocross trophy
or just how much room for groceries you really need. And a related topic, of
course, is which vehicle would you choose if you had to pack all the facets
of your life into a single space outlined by a pair of bumpers, four wheels
between them.
A decade ago, there was a vehicle that many folks thought would fit the bill
quite nicely, the Honda Civic Si. A somewhat small, econonomical hatchback
with a very willing engine and suspension tuned a step or two above the average
Econobox XX. Relatively inexpensive, seating four in a pinch, sporty, able to
make a mark for itself in several competitive venues, it was a mid eighties
interpretation of Sir Alec's "quart in a pint pot."
But that was a decade ago, or more. I spent a big chunk of the afternoon at
the shop working on our '87 Civic Si. Karen started hearing an odd clunk a
few weeks ago, I took a quick look and saw that the swaybar end link on the
driver's side had broken. Today I finally fixed it. I wasn't expecting
going into battle with Vise Grips and die grinder, taking on the old, rusty
parts. I was taken aback at the odd look on the face of the fellow at the
parts counter, as he says, "87? Uh, let me check." Then it occurred to me
that this car is nearly 12 years old, and has served us for 112,000 miles.
The first Triumph I ever owned, a '69 GT6, was only eight years old when I
bought it. Could it be this *Honda* is threatening to join the ranks of cars
that only an oddball enthusiast would consider keeping around? Reminds me
of a moment I had a few years back, heading out of a local brewpub. On
the way back to the car, we passed one of those Smurf blue Miatas. The back
window was rather brown and opaque, the car sported duct tape on various
sections of th evinyl top, and the cracks in the dashborad plastic were a
bit of a surprise. I thought to myself "There's hope for this things."
I'm certainly not ready to raise the Rising Sun over the doors of The Fat
Chance Garage. The plan had been to convert the Honda and the Cherokee into
a new Subaru wagon for Karen, once I got the old van back into working status
as the Team Fat tow vehicle. But that little black hatchback is fun to
drive, I may have to keep it around a bit longer.
mjb.
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