The MG automobile was always targeted at people like me. Back in the old days, when there was a heirarchy of privilege when it came to flashing one's headlights at another motorist, if you drove an MG, you simply flashed at everyone. There was always a bit of uncertainty about being condescending to Triumph drivers, but what the heck? Short of Hillmans, there were few cars on the road that were more "Joe Six Pack" then the MG. It was originally and always targeted at the driver who wanted the enjoyment of a sports car but lacked the budget for a Jaguar or an Ausin Healey or an Aston Martin or a Ferrari and so forth. MG drivers were comfortable in their own skin and took a certain pride in knowing that they were having a blast without the heavy expense of the more prestigous marques.
I wanted an MG since I was about 12. Well actually I wanted a Jaguar since I was about 12, but I knew instinctively that the odds of actually getting an MG were far higher than getting a real, live Jag. As fate would have it, I got my first MG when I was wll into my 30's. I had a friend whose roommate had a white, 78 B - the one with the rubber baby buggy bumpers and said roommate had moved to Hawaii and wasn't coming back any time soon. NO ONE who lives in Hawaii for more than a week would EVER consider returning to New England. The roommate sent written directions fo dispose of the car for the best price obtainable. At the time, it was about 10 years old and showed about 50000 miles on the odo.
I went to the garage where the car was kept. All four tires were flat. The body was good but not prisitine. The lower radiator hose had split and coolant was all over the garage floor. The top was shot, and of course the battery was dead. All in all, it looked pretty sorry. I had brought along a spare battery and jumper cables, some ether, a few quarts of oil and some tools. After about 10 minutes of fiddling, the engine started and I let it idle for several minutes to give it a chance to come up to temperature.
Then I got in and gave it a little throttle. It ran like crap and there was a VERY worrisome clunking coming from under the hood! The noise wasn't coming from the engine, but when it was revved, it would clunk as the throttle was released. I could identify the sound as external to the engine, but on initial impression, I couldn't tell exactly what was causing it.
I sent the owner an offer of $650. She accepted and the car was mine.
After I got the car home, the first thing I did was remove the radiator and have it checked out. It was deemed functional, so I reinstallled it, replaced all the belts and hoses and then discovered that the two electric cooling fans were non-functional. They got replaced. The rear brakes got done, new brake hoses got installed all around and I rebuilt the front calipers. The clunking proved to be a failed motor mount that allowed a part of the engine to contact the front frame member whenever the engine untorqued. The clever folks at MG had provided an access hole in the frame rail for the engine mount bolt, but it was one of those typical British engineering situations that only allowed a person without the super spiffy factory special trool to rotate the attaching nut one land at a time. I spent approximately five hours on my back with a work light on a cold concrete floor replacing it. But at least the clunking was gone when I was done.
Next, I taught myself how to install and MG top, which is a piece of cake, once you have done it. I only wish the Miata top on the car I have now was as easy! Then a friend told me he had a set of original Minilite wheels. They had the correct bolt spacing, so a deal was struck. They were painted a ghastly gold color, so I had them sand blasted and then sprayed them with clear lacquer which I baked in my oven. The lengths that one is willing to go to for a car are startling at times. But since I was a bachelor at the time, the only one to object to the aroma of hot enamel was me, and I found the scent to be intoxicating!. Next a full set of BF Goodrich Tiger Paws were mounted and the car was looking pretty fit for road duty.
Unfortunately, the car came stock with the god awful single Zewith carburerror and the combi exhaust/intake manifold that MG went to in an attempt to meet US smog laws, The car ran like crap. It got lousy mileage. AND it had no power. I went to the local MG used parts emporium one Saturday and scored a set of SU carbs, an original exhaust manifold, and an original intake manifold. I bought a carb rebuild kit and went home to learn the mysteries of SU carbs. At the same time, I removed the "smog pump" and attendant piping, inserted plugs in the holes in the cylinder head for the emissions system and threw the catalytic converter in the trash. After fitting the proper manifolds and the carbs, I hooked everything back uip and ....Lo and BEHOLD, I had a proiper MG that ran like one would expect. Power was WAY up and mileage increase by about 50% too! I was a happy camper. Actually, make that a VERY happy camper!
What you don't know up till now, is that the car was destined to be my daughter's high school graduation present. I was merely making sure it would be functional for her when I was done. After a few years of fine tuning (and a few rallies and autocrosses for good measure), it was time to deliver it to her, She was living in Alabama, where her mother had fled after the divorce to try to keep me from having any meaningful relationship with her. So, on a certain Friday in June, I headed out from lovely downtown Chepachet toward Mobile, Alabama in a driving rainstorm. Just west of the George Washington Bridge, I picked up the Garden State Turnpike and headed for Maryland. About an hour later,the skies cleared and I decided to put the top down. I motored down the DelMarVa peninsula and across the Chesepeake Bay Bridge, stopping for the evening in Myrtle Beach.
I treated myself to the hot tub at the hotel I selected and then went out to dinner. To my horror, the engine had developped a most distressing clatter! I was crushed. Here I was on the road with a few hand tools and the damn car sounded like it had dropped a valve or a piston ring or something.
I went to be quite worried and befuddled, only to awake in the middle of the night with an urge to go look under the hood. At 2 am, I found that the plug wire had fallen off #1 cylinder. I started the car, it ran straight and smooth, and I went back to bed a satisfied man and slept till 10 the next morning.
The second day, I drove the MG across the Florida Panhandle, after stopping to see my elderly grandmother in Jacksonville, Florida is a BIG state and near the Alabama border, there are some gorgeous beaches that stretch for miles and are uninhabited by all except piping plovers and such. I was a day ahead of schedule, so I stayed overnight in Appalachicola in a hotel built 100 years earlier. The Appalacha river used to be a main thoroughfare of commerce back when the riverboat was king, and the hotel was built to resemble a paddle wheeler. Cool place.
The next day, I hove into Mobile about 4 hours before graduation. I looked around in a couple of stores until I found just what I was looking for. I arrived at the ceremony just a little late - after everyone else was inside. I parked the MG on the sidewalk facing the main doors of the auditorium and proceeded to envelope it in the the big red velvet ribbon I had found. Tying the knot was a bit of a struggle, but when I was done, there the car sat, with its big red bow around it and a sign that said "Congratulations, Kate" on the windshield. After my daughter gave her Valedictory speech and all the diplomas were handed out, everyone at the ceremony had to walk around the parked MG on their way out.
There are times in your life when you allow yourself to feel a sense of pride. That was one of those moments.
