|As I approach my 3rd week with a missing car and with the 3rd instalment of the Transporter series just starting on sky movies; on this Sunday eve with the birds tweeting in my carless garden I cant help but reminisce about my automotive journey.
Picture the year - 1986; or was it 1987, perhaps it was 1988; either way, it was the 80s and for my Dad, times were lucrative and so for my first car I remember him chucking me a pile of car brochures to look though, the ones that have glossy pages and a philosophy behind their logo: However, as the inland revenue / interpol caught up with my Dad I remember my choice being restricted to a red fiat uno. But nevertheless it was my first car and I adored it and instantly started some customisations, or pimped it, for any young ones out there. With limited funds, my pimpings included a suction mounted compass, an old Alba speaker used as a mock centre console and one of those American style cans without the removable ring pull, (as a talking point, should anyone enter)
Several carefree months past by but soon the car became temperamental, refusing to start or move in any direction until one day I decided to trade it in for something more reliable, so took it to a local garage.
The car salesman shook my hand and called me Sir, he offered me a warm beverage and once I convinced him I wasnt Mr. Jones senior, offered me finance on a car. My only stipulation was not to leave with another fiat uno. So as I left the garage with my new fiat uno I suspected Id one day return under similar circumstances; two years later I did.
At the same garage and about to purchase my third fiat uno; but this time in black with a sunroof I was stopped at the eleventh hour by my caring mother who threatened to put me in an institute if I bought another, shit box (as she put it).
And so chance lead me to my first proper car; a red Rover Metro 1.4si; and what a car it was. Bonnet vents, side piping, rear spoiler, tyres which read Dunlop sport instead of gola budget and a sunroof. The seats were plush and comfortable, the steering wheel was leather, it had a clock, a lighter socket and a rev counter and I used to wash, wax and Mr. Sheen it on a Saturday afternoon after work under the watchful eye of my dog lounging under the carport. Usually the local nut job would walk by and say, whats your dog called ? several times. To which Id reply, Its a Rover and thanks for asking. To say the least, times were slightly above avarage.
Inside, it needed no modification to jazz it up and I only had to fill the centre console / 8 space cassette holder with some classic tapes of the era.
my choices were as follows :-
1, The soundtrack to the Lost Boys
2, Toy Soldiers by Martika
3, The Dick Tracy soundtrack by Madonna
4&5, Now Thats What I Call Music 7 (reboxed due to storage conflicts)
6, The Return of Bruno by Bruce Willis
7, Voyage, Voyage, cassette single by Desireless
8, Stevie Wonder in Square Circle
I was happy; but little did I know things were about to change.
To be continued -
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