Show us your ride

[Ivophoto]

Our beloved Mini Cooper is getting long in the tooth, 11 years old and counting. Try as I might I can't seem to convince my darling, beautiful and talented wife - you get the picture - that a sensible replacement would be an 8 to ten year old Porsche Cayman.

Funny that.

You have to make the Porsche the less embarrassing choice. .

Start with a screen saver of a Opel Manta with surfboard style spoiler and collect pictures of the Opel on a Pinterest board : I Want. And share with your beloved.



Pretty sure she will soon support the Porsche.

[Rob C]

I'm not so sure that strategy will work: at best, the maths show Keith's choice will only bring a three-year advantage and women, more accustomed to thinking about the long-term effects of quick deals, will think this is not good news: in three years this will all start again after even more expensive maintenance costs.

He might end up replacing that Cayman with a basic Mini instead! You see the possible problems your advice could engender? Full circle on a downward cycle. Of course, she may like the Cayman so much she decides to go for a 911. Then things will get seriously stressed.

Better to lend a sympathetic ear but not present a marketing plan! But I know your heart's in the right place, Ivo.

:-)

[Ivophoto]

I'm not so sure that strategy will work: at best, the maths show Keith's choice will only bring a three-year advantage and women, more accustomed to thinking about the long-term effects of quick deals, will think this is not good news: in three years this will all start again after even more expensive maintenance costs.

He might end up replacing that Cayman with a basic Mini instead! You see the possible problems your advice could engender? Full circle on a downward cycle. Of course, she may like the Cayman so much she decides to go for a 911. Then things will get seriously stressed.

Better to lend a sympathetic ear but not present a marketing plan! But I know your heart's in the right place, Ivo.

:-)

Well, it did work with my Bonneville. It started with a Vespa.

[Rob C]

Well, it did work with my Bonneville. It started with a Vespa.

Had you but started with a Lambretta, history might have been rewritten.

[KLaban]

Ivo, thanks, I'll give it a try. Hell, what have I to loose, I've tried everything else.

 

[James Clark]

I'm not so sure that strategy will work: at best, the maths show Keith's choice will only bring a three-year advantage and women, more accustomed to thinking about the long-term effects of quick deals, will think this is not good news: in three years this will all start again after even more expensive maintenance costs.

He might end up replacing that Cayman with a basic Mini instead! You see the possible problems your advice could engender? Full circle on a downward cycle. Of course, she may like the Cayman so much she decides to go for a 911. Then things will get seriously stressed.

Better to lend a sympathetic ear but not present a marketing plan! But I know your heart's in the right place, Ivo.

:-)

My Porsches never gained me any favor with the ladies, but other guys and kids sure thought some of them were cool, except when I got the odd middle finger or random verbal assault for no apparent reason.  That said, I've always found the Cayman to be a better drive than the 911, so at least Keith's heart (and head) is in the right place.   

[Ivophoto]

My Porsches never gained me any favor with the ladies, but other guys and kids sure thought some of them were cool, except when I got the odd middle finger or random verbal assault for no apparent reason.  That said, I've always found the Cayman to be a better drive than the 911, so at least Keith's heart (and head) is in the right place.

Only his ass is not yet in the right place. (Cockpitseat of the Cayman)

[Ivophoto]

Had you but started with a Lambretta, history might have been rewritten.

The only place I have a chance to find a Lambretta (as a decoration piece)is in that hipster vintage interior shop at the price of a Porsche.

[Rob C]

The only place I have a chance to find a Lambretta (as a decoration piece)is in that hipster vintage interior shop at the price of a Porsche.

So, which you gonna buy?

;-)

[KLaban]

I'm not so sure that strategy will work: at best, the maths show Keith's choice will only bring a three-year advantage and women, more accustomed to thinking about the long-term effects of quick deals, will think this is not good news: in three years this will all start again after even more expensive maintenance costs.

He might end up replacing that Cayman with a basic Mini instead! You see the possible problems your advice could engender? Full circle on a downward cycle. Of course, she may like the Cayman so much she decides to go for a 911. Then things will get seriously stressed.

Better to lend a sympathetic ear but not present a marketing plan! But I know your heart's in the right place, Ivo.

:-)

If truth be told I kinda dread my wife's approval concerning the Cayman and do wonder if I could actually go ahead with the deal. As for V, well she wants a John Cooper Works Mini which I have to admit as an only car is the far more practical choice.

Why are women so sensible?

[KLaban]

My last ride - bike - was a Royal Enfield. I was in my element earlier in the year in India where they are still made and are extremely popular.

[Rob C]

If truth be told I kinda dread my wife's approval concerning the Cayman and do wonder if I could actually go ahead with the deal. As for V, well she wants a John Cooper Works Mini which I have to admit as an only car is the far more practical choice.

Why are women so sensible?

They are sensible in order to compensate for us.

But for Ann we would have sold the house and bought a boat. The year after that, I'd have discovered the truth about boats and ownership and been broke. In my innocence, I figured that if you could buy one, then it would just be a matter of buying fuel like for a big car... I had heard of osmosis, but like heart attacks, it wasn't gonna happen to me, so the thing would last for ever, right? Truth be told, the moorings costs in '81, for a nice boat, were below what the town hall was charging me for the pleasure of owning my own house. Okay, they did remove the garbage a couple of times every week (good olde days).

The same problems you face with a Cayman also confront me with my dream of an MX5. No friggin' space. When I bought this Fiesta, I'd given the Escort to the garage to sell for me - it was too old for part-exchange. Within a couple of weeks I was back at the dealer retrieving the Escort simply because the boot of the new car was so tiny that I could no longer do the sort of bulk shopping we used to do for everything except food. That meant I was running and insuring two cars for one bloke. In the end, the cost of repairing the bodywork on old Rusty became silly, so I managed to sell it privately for a reasonable sum, better than the dealer had suggested I try.

Ann's brother has a Merc S Brabus, and his wife had the small SLK; eventually, she exchanged it for a B (I think), because the boot of her car was hopeless, and both cars were almost undriveable in snow and ice. Apparently, the B is the only Merc with fwd. One of their friends, a lawyer, had a 911 and had to leave it in the garage every time it rained. I guess the moral is be careful what you wish.

Nice wheels seem always to require a "sensible" second. Just like shoes.

Rob

[Eric Myrvaagnes]

Before considering a boat, Rob, you should have looked up the definition:
"A hole in the water into which you pour money."

[Dave Rosser]

I think, it's a Jaguar XK from 1950's or 1960's

It's a Mk2 Jaguar in production from 59 to 67. Had a good racing pedigree, see for instance This advert for one for sale.

[Dave Rosser]

Before considering a boat, Rob, you should have looked up the definition:
"A hole in the water into which you pour money."

Or Ted Heath's description "like standing under a cold shower tearing up five-pound notes"

Dave

[Rob C]

Before considering a boat, Rob, you should have looked up the definition:
"A hole in the water into which you pour money."

The alternative, "standing in a shower tearing up ten-pound notes", was also not bandied about in the yachting magazines that I bought after discovering the low price of moorings (then!) out here in the Baleares. When the present marina was being built, the Commodore of the old version offered us club membership for £ 360. Today, never mind the waiting list, they look for about £ 23,000 for the same favour. Realising we'd never buy that boat, we turned it down. Could probabably have afforded to buy a mooring, which we could then have let, a far better pension plan than photographic stock! Who knew?

Reminds me of the Lamborghini I once overtook: a tractor. A bit convoluted, I accept, but Oscar will certainly figure it out correctly.

;-(

[Rob C]

Or Ted Heath's description "like standing under a cold shower tearing up five-pound notes"

Dave

Beat me by one second, but I beat Heath by five quid! I think he ripped that one off.

;-)

[James Clark]

Here's one more of mine - the one that convinced me I would end up dead if I kept up serious track work.  It's a final-gen Dodge Viper, and what you'll hear is that it's a dangerous, hard-to-handle car.  I don't happen to agree with that. Driven well and correctly, it's akin to a large-ish 640 hp MX5 in terms of agility and predictability.  The problem is that with that much power put down on the tracks where you can really use it (I would hit about 170 mph at Circuit of the Americas), anything that goes wrong (and I'm talking about mechanical issues - not driver error, but that's always a possibility too) has a decent chance of being fatal.  Street cars don't need to be going 170 MPH - at least not with me in them.

[D Fuller]

It was a good day for a drive.


Nice day for a drive by David Fuller, on Flickr

[Rob C]

Always had a soft spot for the TT until Keith told me it's like the girl you take home to show Mother, whilst really wanting to know another type a lot better.

"Well, I was raised in a sophisticated kind of style.
 Yeah, my taste in music and women drove my folks half wild.
 Mom and Dad had a plan for me,
 It was debutantes and celebraties,
 But I like my music hot and like my women wild.

 Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
 When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
 Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
 Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
 An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

 You should've seen the looks on the faces of my Dad and Mom,
 When I showed up at the door with a date for the senior prom.
 They said: "Well, pardon us, son, she ain't no kid.
 That's a cocktail waitress in a Dolly Parton wig."
 I said: "I know it, dad. Ain't she cool, That's the kind I dig."

 Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
 When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
 Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
 Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
 An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

 Instrumental break.

 I like 'em sweet, I like 'em with a heart of gold.
 Yeah an' I like 'em brassy, I like 'em brazen and bold.
 Well, they say that opposites attract, well, I don't agree
 I want a woman just as tacky as me.
 Yeah, I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

 Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
 When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
 Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
 Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
 An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

 Yeah, I like my women an' I like 'em on the trashy side."

 Credit and copyright: whoever wrote the song.

When my wife was eight months with our first child, we went up north to Perthshire (Scotland) to ski - well, she wasn't going to, and I was never much good. North of Perth, I had to negotiate a curve in the snow and ice, and lost traction in the middle. We were going slowly, but as the side of the wheels hit the hard, packed stuff, it flipped onto its side. Some guys in a truck parked nearby came over and lifted her out. I had to clamber out unaided. Sexism, no doubt... Anyway, she was okay as was the baby, and the car, my pride, a '59 Ford Popular - the model that looked like a mini-Consul - was almost perfectly okay too, except for a popped side window and a bent-double Motorola aerial - a tall, three-section one I could never replace; after that one I could only find lousy ones with umpteen short bits.

Cars were made of steel, not paper, back then.

I don't believe that a ragtop would have had us emerge in such good condition, especially as nobody seemed to have seat belts in those days... Roll-over bars: do you really stay aligned with them in crisis? What about uneven lumps on the surface of where you're sliding upside down after you ran out of talent?

Get a lid!

Rob