I have a soft spot in my head for British sports cars. It all started with
my friend Joe and his Austin Healey Sprite, not the bug-eye model, but the one
that MG would clone. It was light, seemed fast, and we used to put it on his
front porch, sideways, as a joke. It only took about four of us to move by
hand, but after the first few times it lost its effect-and Joe lost his temper.
Just before that was Frank’s big Austin Healey 3000, big and fast. Defining the
true British sports car, as the top went down, sorry Porsche and others, and it
was good for leaving you where you didn’t want to be left. Why the Brits, where
it rains so much romanticized the roadster I don’t know, but top down motoring
to me still defines a sports car, as opposed to a sporty car. I even see
minivans with SPORT on them, how far have we really fallen? But my first fall
into grace with British cars was a 1972 MG Midget, a clone of Joe’s Sprite.
Butterscotch in color, it was light, used all 48 horsepower all the time, and
was the car I mastered the parking brake u-turn with. Just pull up the hand
brake, the rear wheels would come around, release, downshift, and accelerate.
Not quite that smooth, but that easy-after a while. And nothing quite is as
romantic as top down motoring on a date in the Sandias, until you want privacy,
and the top was a 20 minute, maybe get it right without tearing it affair.
Better than a cold shower to cool you and your date off. And it was also the
car that I learned all about being towed from the side of the road. Seems their
dual carb set-up was modern some 100 years ago, but not in the seventies.
Batteries are only used for starting, an alternator is supposed to keep you
going, and when it doesn’t the mountains of New Mexico get mighty cold even with
the top up in December. But foreign car parts houses carried them, but who
would put it in? And charge the battery? For they used a positive ground, just
the opposite of the rest of the world. Hook up the cables wrong-ZAP! But
somehow I always got to where I was going, just not when I needed to.
And it was tough, taking on a large 1972 Ford Galaxie one night, being hit
so hard from the rear I ended up in the opposite lane going the other way, on
the other side of the intersection. But months later it was fixed, battery
charged, and again I was driving, just waiting for the next British part to
fail. But when working, ahhh-motoring heaven. Maybe there is some truth to all
sports cars must be British.
But the one British sports car intangible that they all shared, from Midget
to B model was they all felt like they were going faster than they really were.
With no traffic around you, and an open road, 30 felt like 50, 50 felt like 75,
and 70, if the road was long enough and downhill, 75 felt like warp speed. The
illusion of speed was such you never had to go fast to feel like you were going
fast. Which all quickly came to an end once you encountered traffic, and all
1275 cc of British brake horse power reminded you not to race against kids on
Schwinns, skateboards, or a VW Beetle with loud exhaust. But you were coolest
with the top down, sitting so low you could touch the ground sticking your arm
out the window, and sticking to the road in the curves. Just as long as all the
parts made of the finest British quality decided not to fall off your car. But
for the 35 years of British sports cars sold in the US of A, they were the real
thing. And a short drive on a windy road made you forget all of its faults.
And also provided you stories of riding in tow trucks, and meeting some of the
nicest people who stopped to help, or at least who tried.
But by 1980 it was over. MG had built and imported its last B model. It
was a fun car, again under powered, saddled with those big black bumpers, and no
power. But when it ran, it provided my first son with his first top down
motoring experience. How many 4 year olds cruise in an MGB with the top down?
Triumph, the car company, not the motorcycle manufacturer was out, its shape of
things to come, its wedge shape not catching on. The TR6 also long gone. Austin
Healey had died years before, and even TVR, that strange little car had stopped
importing. Leaving only Jaguar to perpetuate the image of not running in rain
or after dark, of hard to diagnose running, of stopping and then restarting for
no particular reason, and yes, the romance of open air motoring. Of moonlight
rides top down, with you girl by your side, of hearing the exhaust sing while
you stuck in the corners, and knowing what no one else who had never experienced
a British sports car new, they were the only true sports car. Just about
anything was more reliable, most were faster, most would ride more comfortable,
but not one could give you the right feeling, the feeling only an MG or Healey
could give. And the next generation would never know what it had
missed....
Now more than one passenger told me to slow down, not because of the speed
I was travelling, but because of the perceived speed. Plus stopping at a light
looking directly into the front tire of a Camaro could be intimidating. You
were low and slow, but felt fast. The wind in your hair only exacerbating the
experience. Today we have forgotten many things felt like, tasted like, or
really were. We have come to the point as a society that perception is the new
reality, if you feel it, it must be true. Yet our feelings let us down, how
many have fallen in love, then out, then in again, vowing that this is the one?
How many have walked with God until a crisis hits, then walked away. Based on
their experience, God didn’t do as He said He would. So they try something else
to meet the emotional fix. Some find it in drugs or alcohol, some in sex, some
in the love of money, and yes some find it in cars and motorcycles. But the
perception of happiness, only lasts until the drugs wear off, until it has
ruined your marriage, or you have lost your job. The perception of joy, the
emotion, not the condition, is fleeting. One day you love the Chargers, they
won a game, the next week they are bums again after losing. Highs and lows of
emotion, turning us into emotional retards. Stuck on the side of life like my
old MG’s. At least it was fun while it lasted.
Solomon tells us in Ecclesiastes many things about a life of things apart
from God. He tells us that rich men never have enough money, and don’t sleep at
night worrying about it. That even though he had a thousand wives and
concubines, he was never happy. Relationships were more than sex. He built
parks, statues, and memorials to himself. But never did the people love him any
more. He built cities, gave to the poor, but found that without a relationship
with God, his life was empty. Things were just that-things. Only in Jesus will
you ever be satisfied. Only when He becomes the main thing, will things not
rule your life. The things which are seen are temporal, and often leave you
wanting more, like a ride home. Jesus is that ride. They strain your emotions,
distorting your perceptions, until the truth comes into your life. And although
many times I may have forgiven the Midget for not starting, when it did, all was
forgotten, until the next time. Jesus forgives every time...so you can forgive
others and never forget Him. And sometimes like top down motoring, you cannot
put the feelings into words, for they are too deep, it takes the spirit to visit
with you. But unlike things, British and other, only Jesus saves. Are you
saved? What you worship, will it get you to heaven? Only Jesus will, and for
more than just a short generation.
Jesus offers you hope today. The joy you cannot find anywhere else is
available only from Him. He has what you need when you need it, and life with
Him is great at any speed. 100 will really feel like 100, and you can be sure
of the truth, not what your feelings tell you. Remember John telling us how the
heart can be evil and deceptive, why not give yours to Jesus today and end the
battle of emotional pain? Of things missing in your life? Put the top down,
breathe in the air of the spirit, and know the joy of Jesus in your life. All
in a life meant just for you, maybe why a true sports car has only two seats,
and the top must go down. It’s that personal. Just you and Jesus. Pull a hand
brake u-turn today, accept Christ. Head out for the driving experience of your
life. Follow Him wherever the road leads, knowing He will never go out of
style. Leave the perception of happy to others, you have joy. Unspeakable, and
full of glory. What you drive and who you drive with will tell us more than
many words about your God. I like mine top down, enjoying the road He takes me
down. I can hear the motor singing, and my God with me always. For there is
nothing more satisfying than a British sports car except for Jesus.
Interesting, how the same people that brought us the Kings James Version of the
Bible also built the best sports cars. I wonder what King Solomon would be
driving today?
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com