1953 Buick Super Estate


The kid up the road had one of these. Well, not exactly one of these but a pedal car verion of one of these. I’d head on up to his house every day after school. There was my mate in his blue-grey ‘Woodie’, little sister in tow, on her little trike. I’d hang around hoping for a ride – he’d torture me saying ‘In a minute’ every few minutes. I’d wait patiently for an hour as he pedalled furiously around the back yard, little sister in tow, on her little trike. I’d give up and turn for the front gate and he’d go, ‘OK, your turn’. I’d get my once around the yard then resume my position on the back step for another hour, watching, little sister in tow, on her little trike. She never said a word, just pedalled forward when he pedalled forward, backed up when he backed up, stopped when he stopped – and looked at me blankly when it was my turn. Everyone loved that Woodie.

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1960 Corvette


You know that mid-life crisis thing – go out and buy yourself a sports car only to find you’re still miserable? Kind of embarrassing too when you’re out there on the driveway on Sunday morning giving it a polish – the neighbours walk past with the dog thinking ‘Tragic’ and you’re thinking ‘I know they’re thinking ‘Tragic’ and they’re thinking ‘he’s thinking we’re thinking tragic’ … Yeah well anyway, you can have a nice sports car in the privacy of your own bedroom and not be embarrassed at all – simple as buying a print and framing it. Only one thing though, it will be better all round if you hang it on the wall and don’t prop it up on the pillow next to your’s. I’m sure we are on the same page.

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