A Carmudgeon’s Christmas

Ahh Christmas, the annual spend-fest that starts sooner each year.  You know it’s time to start preparing when the stores, around September, dust off their Christmas hits CD and put it on shuffle - ad infinitum - for the remainder of the year.  

The main clue is when you see a small corner of a department store anonymously stocked with cards, tinselled decorations and crappy gifts starting to spread like seasonal flu until, by the end of October, it’s infected the whole place. From then on there’s really no escape. 

Christmas is as inevitable as death and taxes and for curmudgeons like me, just as enjoyable.  Perhaps I’m being uncharitable, demeaning one of the few times of the year where families get together to exchange gifts, stuff their faces and quaff cheap sparkling wine before slumping, taut and tipsy, in front of the TV to watch Doctor Who.

All this is to celebrate the arrival of the mythical man known as Santa who, apparently, spreads joy and generosity throughout the world – what a guy. 

For me it’s slightly worse because my birthday is on Christmas Eve which, given its proximity to the 25^th, means my festive day is when all the last minute running around gets done and pretty much puts paid to me feeling just a little bit special. Bah, humbug.

At the risk of dragging you all into my indifference to this annual annoyance, you might look at it this way: funds spent on Christmas are those you could have alternatively lavished on your precious motor that I think in the long run might bring you more joy.

Are you still in the mood?  If so, I thought I’d list some of the probable and unwelcome stocking fillers you might receive as a classic car owner just to drive [sic] my message home.

#1 A necktie with a car on it. Not your classic car of course. No, some generic other car. To obtain the former might need some extra effort and let’s face it to the casual gift giver classic cars are all the same aren’t they? To save on blog space the same objection can apply to socks, gloves, scarves, T-shirts, underpants and bathrobes.

Well, it does have British Racing Green...

#2 A classic car calendar. Your car might be included in the twelve chosen depending how mainstream your chosen vehicle is.  But remember this: you’ll only enjoy looking at it for one month and the rest of the year you’ll have to look at other peoples’ cars and, of course, be doomed to count down to next Christmas.

#3 A winter car care kit. A nylon sponge, some cheap car wash, an ice scraper and some caustic looking deicer all in a festive poly bag. This was bought totally irrespective of the fact that your classic is probably tucked away in a cosy garage cosseted from the rigours of winter until the coming Spring. ‘You could use it on your daily driver’ you might protest! Really, you’d use such tat to ‘care’ for your everyday motor?

You shouldn't have!

#4  A coffee table book of classic cars.  What would we do without remaindered bookstores, the happy haven of the lazy gift buyer?  You will probably flick through this glossy tome a few times before New Year and maybe even read a page or two. You might even find your own car featured but it’s about as likely you’ll discover one fact or comment you don’t already know as finding Rudolph droppings. Soon it’ll be good for one thing: putting your coffee cup on until it has more rings than the Olympic flag then off to the charity shop it goes.

#5  A car jigsaw. About as much fun as changing a wheel in the pouring rain. Time spent on one of these anachronisms could be time spent overhauling your carburetor which, thinking about it, might be a more fun way to spend the 25^th of December.

#6 A mug, decorative plate or porcelain ornament. Yes with an old car on it. Give us strength. Actually thinking about it; no!  Instead make us weak, give us the grip of a newborn so that soon after you’ve unwrapped it you hold the offending object up, faking admiration until suddenly it falls from your weakened hands.

All present can watch in slow motion as it falls to the floor and smashes into satisfying smithereens. You feign shock, upset, disappointment but most of all you implore the giver that it’s all your fault and you cannot in all conscience ask them to replace it. Immediately retire to the bathroom to laugh until you dampen your gusset.

Is that a VW Beetle? (MG owner)

Finally, to ameliorate my rant and to add some much-needed festive cheer; in the spirit of worthwhile Christmas commercialism your nearest and dearest could buy you some club regalia from your preferred car society. Not only would this add nicely to the club’s funds you might actually be happy to receive it!

So, to conclude, may I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year and hopefully Santa will not curse you with anything that you’d immediately want to put onto eBay. 

Thank Heavens it's over...

No, I'm not talking about Christmas, well not yet anyway. No, I'm referring to the year of our Lord 2016 that has been tumultuous, to say the least. It's sure to be a year that we'll be talking about for quite some time yet.

We have said a final goodbye to numerous beloved celebrities and luminaries, more than one would expect in a normal year. In June, we gave a typically British two fingers to the EU and saw our dream of having a world-class football team comically ended: sacrificed on a wintry Icelandic alter.

Worse still, we now have the prospect of one Donald J Trump Esq. entering the White House as leader of the 'free world': something we're all going to have to contemplate and hope for the best!

As for me, as you know, I said goodbye to a good deal of cash as I finally decided to give the DS some overdue TLC. This draining process will no doubt continue into 2017 as we finish it off. There's an old joke which I'll paraphrase: How do you make a small fortune? Start with a big one then buy a DS. Finally, there is one final sting to my 2016 because during this tiresome year my personal odometer rolled over to 50. Oh the misery.

So onto cars. I thought given that I've hit my half-century that I'd find out which classic cars are joining me on this landmark occasion. There are quite a few and some of them quite remarkable. Let's see:

The Jensen Interceptor (1966 - 1976)

Yay! What a super cool car to share a birthday with and, better still, it’s a favourite of mine. A true British muscle car with a massive six-litre V8 engine and looks to die for. Much like my good self! Given unlimited funds, I'd have an Interceptor but the cost of insurance, fuel and maintenance would make the cost of looking after the DS seem like pocket change. Perhaps, if I had the wealth of America's President-Elect it might be an option but under current circumstances, this would be like taking my money and burning it on a Yuletide fire.

British V8 excellence

Toyota Corolla (1966 - present)

Most who know me would describe me as a reserved, sensible person with a tendency to be both taciturn and perspicacious. I'm OK with that. Apt then, that one of the most understated, low-key cars on the road was launched in the year of my birth.  And cars don't come soberer than the undramatic Corolla. Beloved of the elderly and as reliable as Santa on Christmas Eve these unassuming cars won't set the world on fire but they will always start and get you home in time for Christmas. In these topsy-turvy times, that's a good thing.

Fiat 124 (1966 - who knows)

For such a simple three-box car, this is arguably one of the most remarkable ever. Not for its engineering or performance or beauty but more for its longevity. Whilst Fiat stopped making the 124 in 1974, some of the licensed overseas versions are still being made today. One of its most recognisable incarnations is, of course, that Cold War classic the Lada Riva. It has also been made in Spain, India, Bulgaria, Korea and, most appropriately, Turkey. In fact, in its various guises, it's the second biggest selling car in automotive history. It’s a bit like your Christmas turkey; it just seems to go on forever. I kinda like that; I just hope I'm as resilient.

Daimler Sovereign (1966 - 1983)

Effectively a badge-engineered Jaguar 420 the Sovereign was a 2.5-litre V8 slice of little England. Graceful and sublime when wafting through the shires of the Home Counties but with a dark side when used by an underworld boss. With enough room in the boot to transport a gangland corpse to the foundations of an East-end skyscraper, these cars were, during their production, the crème de la crème vehicle of the moneyed classes (irrespective of how that cash was procured).

Dodge Charger (1966 - 1978)

What a treat. One of the few American cars I really like. The Charger is the muscle car's muscle car. Longer than a winter's night and just as cool. Its massive engine is louder than the squeal of kids on a Christmas morn.  Chargers exude menace, power and dark intent. Whether it's chasing Steve McQueen round San Francisco during a festive showing of Bullitt or yee-hawing around as the General Lee in The Dukes of Hazard the Dodge Charger is a true American icon with which I'm delighted to share a birthday.

You can feel the menace

After such a difficult year we all need cheering up a bit methinks and at this time of goodwill to all people finding out I'm of the same vintage as some brilliant cars has lightened my mood somewhat. I hope this gets you to check which cars share your birthday, you may be pleasantly surprised.

So now, it’s time to ponder what 2017 will have up its sleeve? Let's hope there's plenty to look forward to, especially in our classic car world, that put the indifference of 2016 firmly behind us.