Is it February already? Where did January go? It’s a sign I’m getting old that time flies by so quickly. I can’t even remember what I did in January it disappeared so fast. So now, as Christmas becomes a distant memory, new ways to sell us stuff are in the pipeline. Valentine’s Day is one of the primary product sets. Shop assistants are putting the festive nonsense into the stockroom. The shelves are already full of schmaltzy rubbish to help us proclaim our affection. Lest we suffer a month in stony silence for not making enough romantic effort. Good luck with that!
But, this won’t be the theme of my blog this month. There’s another tradition we can discuss. I'm talking about Shrove Tuesday. The start of Lent as denoted by Ash Wednesday that follows a day later. A religious concept where we give up something we enjoy to atone for our sins. I think that’s the idea. We’ll make the sacrifice until Easter arrives and we've served our penance.
In the days of yore, Lent started with a feast. Princes and paupers alike would raid the larder and eat the things they were to forgo for the next few weeks. For some reason, this amounted to a bit of flour and some eggs. Not much was it? Today we mark this occasion on Pancake Day. Now is it me or these proceedings a bit bizarre?
As Shrove Tuesday dawns, you’ll hear people saying something like, ‘I love pancakes; they’re my favourite’. Usually, before they scurry off to Morrisons to buy a bag of ready-made pancake mix. In the past, I’ve asked: ‘Love them, do you? How often do you eat them?’ Usually they say, ‘every Pancake Day’. I enquire further. ‘You love them so much you only eat them annually?’ Pancakes it seems are the culinary equal of Brigadoon. You can only enjoy them fleetingly.
So what are you giving up this Lent? Apart from pancakes of course. As classic car owners are there motor-related things we can do to demonstrate our piety? There are options, as I will show.
You could opt not to drive your classic. It’s that simple. And it’s not bad advice. Salty roads and icy conditions are a wicked combination at this time of year. Winter weather is not classic-friendly. If you refrain from driving your motor, you’ll avoid these potential hazards. And if you still pay road fund license there’s a few quid saved to spend on Easter eggs too.
What about giving up classic car TV? There’s a lot of it about at the moment. Car SOS, Salvage Hunters Classic Cars, and the decidedly dodgy Goblin Works Garage. A thrice-weekly fix of oily fingered entertainment, however patchy. Could you go without? Opting instead to watch moribund soap operas. Or celebrities demeaning themselves for our unseemly entertainment. As penance goes, it’s too easy. This is nowhere near tasking enough. We need something with a bit more bite. Something that will seem like a genuine loss.
How about not being able to talk about or discuss your car? I’m sure we all enjoy chatting with others about our pride and joy. We’re all guilty of levering the subject into our daily discourse. What if this were verboten? It’ll be especially trying if you extend this to avoiding engaging others when they ask about your car. To add a bit of spice what if there’s a sanction such as donating to charity every time you crack. That might offer a reasonable degree of challenge.
OK, one final suggestion for a car-free Lent, the most taxing of them all.
Let’s cut cars altogether. No car action at all. Until Easter, you’re on the bus, train or tram. If you absolutely need to use a car it can only be a taxi. Time to download the Uber app methinks. As automotive abstemiousness goes, this is the full dose. But think about it. There are many who manage perfectly well without a car, so it’s not that far-fetched.
Yes, it’ll be disorienting if you’re used to jumping in a car to go about your business. Convenience will have to give way to considered planning and intimate knowledge of public transport schedules. Dare I say; you might even walk a bit more. You don’t need me to tell you that’s good for you. Don’t discount this Lenten commitment; it’s not as mad as it sounds. And I’ll be sure to wave at you at the bus stop as I drive by.
So, whatever you’re planning to give up at Lent do ensure you do it for the right reasons. If any of you do opt for my car-related suggestions, let me know and definitely tell me how you got on. As for me, I will enjoy my annual plate of over-thick pancakes with the usual words on my lips. ‘I don’t see what people see in these!’ In fact, I’ll probably then give up eating pancakes for at least a year. Nothing surprising there!
Happy Lent everyone and, as ever, happy classic car motoring.
No comments:
Post a Comment