The Aesthete's Fleet
With all the 105 Alfa fettling that has been going on locally, the Aesthete has been out dispensing helpful advice and spanner swinging although not all of his ministrations lead to immediate improvements in the patients. There is a GTV in Outram with its front suspension installed backwards and a Spider temporarily fitted with a Sud distributor but all will be put right before these mutant Alfas take to the street again. The surgeon buries his mistakes but the mechanic just keeps fixing things.
Some have suggested that I return to offering Youtube links to long forgotten songs. Here is one to be going on with from the Monochrome Set. The struggling band I played in during the early 80s played a note perfect cover, if you can imagine it. I bought a very expensive flanger so I could copy the guitar sound. He's got clothes all red on a rumpled bed indeed.
1980 Fiat 131 Racing. The Fiat community has been roused to action by the emergence of this well preserved 131 from its lengthy storage. As the vendor points out in his comments, almost all its compatriots have crumbled into orange fragments or have been raced, rallied and rolled to pieces so this is almost a unique opportunity to acquire one of these hilarious devices. I hope it still has the purple velour interior as that is certainly to die for.
For: Lampredi engined rear wheel drive shouty Italian. What more could you want?
Against: You will be bidding against people who know how good these cars are.
Investment potential: 12/10
For: A proper sports car.
Against: Rude hidden parts.
Investment potential: 4/10. Do some tidying and your investment is safe.
For: Find your inner pony tail.
Against: And the hair dye and treadmill.
Investment potential: 2/10 given that the market is a bit crowded.
1974 Ford Capri GT. Much the same might be said of 1970s Fords. While sullenly grateful to have his mother's Mk 1 Escort 1300XL in which to speed around the North Shore, the junior Aesthete would not have been seen dead in one otherwise. Maturity has seen these prejudices melt away, as I am sure would have the resistance of girl passengers had my mother insisted on one of these. Oh well...
For: A time machine is waiting to take you back to Glenfield.
Against. NO NO! NO!! I don't want to go!!! You can't take me back there!!! Etc etc...
Investment potential: It depends what value you put on being seventeen again.
1952 Armstrong Siddley Whitley. I am sure no-one ever wasted his youth in one of these unless you are one of those Tory types dreading the footfalls of the vice squad as they investigate your brief spell at Eton. My old friend Bob from the motor trade tells a great story of taking one as a trade-in, followed by increasingly desperate measures to see it off the yard. Time heals all wounds, as they say.
For: Stand up straight and take your hat off, man.
Against: Nothing. Like Kim Philby, charming to a fault.
Investment potential: 6/10. Its cheap.
On some faraway beach...
For: Ya das ist gut!
Against: Like a child's drawing of a car but is that bad?
Investment potential: Oh I don't know. Infinite.
The Armstrong Siddley looks beautifully rebellious next to my fathers beige Mark 2 escort, a sudden fit of conservativism on his part after a raft of interesting Rovers,Jaguars, (mainly I suspect for my benefit, to point me his teenage son, in the direction of orthodoxy) However I wasnt to be spare myself the pleasures of cheap Jowett Javelins and dubious Sunbeams. I always hankered after an Armstrong Siddley or an AC 2 litre,then common enough bargains in the late 70s NZ. Where they a step away form an Alvis or a Bristol? (or even an Aston martin?) on the spectrum of quality english cars? The Armstongs seemed that sort of car, certainly a short cut to engnineering prestige compared to a well used Superminx or a dodgy Anglia. Luckily I discovered the adundance of Fiat 125s and suddenly those hoons with escort sports and pratts with BMWs were no longer safe at the lights, and while RX3s could drag off my Rover 2000 TC at the lights, such was the Rovers high speed capbilities, it was a whole different game at 90mph on an Auckland Motorway, Alas by then thoughts of a nice Armstrong Whitley had long left my imagination.
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