We've had the Sydney branch of the family over to stay for the Easter 
break. It's been wonderful: Picnic on the beach; breakfast in the 
Dunedin sunshine; youngest member of the household establishing, by 
divine right and with the rapturous approval of her subjects,  an 
absolute monarchy for the duration; time enough to pick up my camera for
 the first time in weeks;  you know, all the usual stuff. 
    In 1969, when I was 16 I left school and got a job as a labourer. My wages weren't high but to me they were a fortune and within a few months  I bought my first car, a 1938 Morris 8 sports, this one here. It had a minuscule 4 cylinder engine and a wood framed body which meant it was slow and it flexed so much when going around corners that the doors would sometimes fly open. Nevertheless I thought it was pretty damned cool, especially with the modifications I made to the muffler for performance and advertising purposes, ie, removing it.      Back then, the most popular TV program was The Avengers, in which the suave and resourceful hero, John Steed drove a 1928 3 Litre Bentley. Which looked kinda like my car, right? Yeah, right.     Anyway, John Steed usually entered his car by leaping nimbly over the door, so I emulated him whenever possible. Now all this is preamble. I want to tell you about something that happened to me one day in Papanui Road, Christchurch.     My car ...










Comments