Above you will see yours truly only a couple of decades ago pretending to get into the proper side of a Morris Minor, with the National Theatre in the background.
I post this now because I would like to acknowledge, in a year of dreadful anniversaries (I'm thinking, of course, mostly of the anniversary of John Lennon's murder and the melancholy 70th anniversary of his birth) ... in this year of difficult anniversaries, a happy one.
Forty years ago, the Morris company made their one millionth Minor. It was the first British motor company to make a million cars. They stopped production in the early 70s, which I guess makes this anniversary a tad melancholy as well. But for now, let us sing its glories. As they say, from bonnet to boot, there was nothing more British than a Morris Minor. Not flashy, somewhat dependable, made lots of noise, but got the job done -- with more soul than you'd expect at first blush.
I actually contemplated buying one about 16 or 17 years ago. My friend had found one for sale in Connecticut. Although the steering wheel had been changed for export, it was a Minor through and through. My father (may his memory be for a blessing) begged me not to get it. "Ronnie," he said, "The engine is the size of battery."
I didn't get it, as I'm not the best with a spanner and I couldn't trust it to do the hefty commute at the time. Ah, but what might have been ... Maybe it's not too late ...