One Subaru in the Durdant-Hollamby household that is. Scooby One, bought in Swindon and the first of the rally cars in the family, has been sold today for a decent price after my elder brother returned from a week in Norfolk, a county he described as being the ‘most expensive in England’. Glad he finally managed to sell the car as another Porsche 993 Targa has taken it’s place, and, frankly, is a better investment; quite apart from the fact that his wife will ride in it, which was not the case with the thug-inducing image of the Impreza. Whilst on that subject, I met with the designer of the ‘best graphics on a subaru’ after a lengthy wait due in no small part to a new baby and a big back problem. Have to say though, the graphics I ordered, which have now arrived, are exceptional, being two part where necessary, and are well worth the wait.
If my boss is reading this, I’m going to have to ask for next friday off. The morning will be a ‘separate’ issue, but the afternoon is all about graphics. I hope she understands. I guess I’ll find out on monday.
I remember the 70′s. It was all miners strikes, heatwaves, glam rock (google it) and Arse*al winning at football. And 3 day weeks. So, as if in tribute to the old days, I’m having one myself, this week. After hopefully wandering up to Peldon to do some more car stuff, I shall be ending up in Feering at The Sun Inn (or the ‘Star’, I’m not sure which – it’s the one over the bridge), to have some decent fish and chips. And I can’t wait.
It may be beef though. 12.30 I reckon. I’ll put the pictures up here.
Oh go on, make the rest up yourself. Side skirts on Scooby Two had been ordered, and, such is the way with anybody selling parts on these cars, two STi skirts arrived a full four weeks after I’d ordered them. The weather, getting colder by the day, was sunny, so I decided to fit them whilst the going was good. Separating the old to accommodate the new is always an exciting, if daunting experience, especially if you haven’t done it before. Actually, if you dive in with a lot of confidence you may be surprised with the results. I started by getting the clips off the old skirts, which eventually all came off without too much trouble. So skirt one was off, and a new skirt was chosen and fitted better than the first if I’m honest.
After cleaning all the muck up, it looked a bit better….
The next step was to get the new ‘twisty’ rally side skirt on, and although the first one took a while, the second was very quick.
And as I’m sure you’re all aware by now, I had to add a sticker. It is the law after all. So, call it what you like, divorce yourself from what the car used to look like and look to the future. It’s bright. In my case, it’s actually yellow.
Delighted to be able to report the new arrival at Kim’s house of APPI 1N, his new 993 Targa, to go with his other one, currently in storage. I would have added this to the site tonight by phone, but I’ve left it at work. car was rescued from France with flood damage, and has just been MOT’d and taxed, taking to the road for the first time this afternoon. Apparently, although the father was nervous, both he and the car appear to be doing well.
Most people plump for ‘fireman’ when the obligatory ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ question is fired at them by adults who’ve worked out that the small one can talk. I’d been tapping on the sides of sofas since I was young, so when my elder brother told me I’d play my first session as drummer when I was 21, I believed him. And it turned out he was right. My first session was at the studios of Dave Mindel, famous for writing the Jim’ll Fix It theme tune. Id written the jingle for Bally Shoes, which aired nationally about two weeks after the session, and which I first heard on Capital Radio whilst washing cars in the car cleaning business I ran with brother Barry. That was one great moment. And I told Paul McCartney’s piano player how to play it, employed Mel Collins, a legendary sax player, and got paid £200 into the bargain.
And so was to begin a long journey which, had things been different, would have meant missing out on the biggest event of my life. (I sort of wish I’d been a drummer, but hadn’t bargained for people like this to be playing too).