Ice:
When I was in my twenties, I owned a series of Brit autos (Morris Minor, MG, etc.). If I sneezed in any of them, the ignition quit.
One night after a hockey game, I emerged to find it ice-raining. Of course, the little @#^%$# wouldn't start. One of my team mates, who owned a big huge caddy, offered to provide a push to assist. After a single circuit of the block, it was still "no go", so out we went on to the major highway. Recall I said it was ice raining. My pal opened it up and we were soon cavorting down the highway at mega speeds. Only trouble was, that little Morris Minor of mine was shuttling back and forth across the width of that big caddy's front bumper like a ping pong ball. Sheer terror reigned as I expected at any moment to disappear under that mother's crankcase. Much waving of arms only produced more speed! After 8-10 miles, my pal finally recognized that it was a useless effort and pulled over. I climbed out sweat-soaked,.... and it was not from the hockey game. After regaining control over my shaking knees, I opened the hood of the car. The motor was so hot, that it was smoking,......but of course, it remained lifeless. A day later, we drove out to tow it home. As it was a lovely day, it of course started on the first turnover. (g)
Rule Britannia!
Best, Earlie |
