Sometime satirist, all the time social commentator and weirdo about town. I am a hapless romantic soul with a love of music, media, burlesque, retro, kitsch, talking and tea. I adore people who are a bit different, those who can really make me laugh or teach me something.
I’m sure there must be some mistake but through sheer stupidity or damned good fortune this particular eBay auction was ended early to award an almost brand new Peugeot 407 2.0 SE in a tasteful colour to “the current highest bidder at the current bid price”…which appears to have been £0.99p!
Of course I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it all and it will be resolved amicably and archived in the myth and folklore building around the infamous auction site. Can you imagine though the poor punter’s face when he was under the impression he’d got a brand new car for 99p?! Even if it was a Peugeot (we have a history, I’m psychologically scarred by a vivid green 307 I used to own) I’d certainly be planning what to do with few grand I’d managed to save.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet, I have an ambition you see to buy a ‘decent’ and interesting motor, that is driveable with at least 1 months tax and an MOT from eBay for £50 or less. A pipe dream I’m sure, but so far I have bought a 1994 Saab 900 for £750 which is a pretty good sensible car, albeit with a slight air of ‘eau du wet mutt’ about it.
Someone allegedly wise to this sort of thing once suggested to me that cars should be bought £1 for every cc of their engine which is an interesting theory, so with that in mind my 2.0 Saab was pretty triumphant. I also know of at least 3 other eBay car purchases that have been very successful.
But then there have been the horror stories. For the most part I think the majority of transactions are excellent, but there were a few that slipped through the net. Descriptions not being quite accurate, like the story I heard of a mini purchase which on the journey to collect it transpired there had been just reason for only front view photographs, there had been a rearwards incident with a skip. The vendor on that occasion did point out he hadn’t lied on the description; he just forgot to mention that (vital) nugget of information. Also there was the VW Polo that had been given some careful engineering work to ensure that my unwitting Doctor friend got the car to just within 3 miles of her house and the engine died – permanently.
But, if you do see that Golden Fleece of a car for me….don’t nab it for yourself …do let me know
The Citroen C4 advert, marvel of CGI technology jiggerypokery or downright scary as hell? I have to say my feet are firmly planted in the latter camp. My god I had a nightmare about the damn thing the other night. In an attempt to exorcise this 'auto-demon', I searched for the images below, unwittingly clicked on a website of what can only have been the ‘brains’ behind it all and it bloody well launched the automotive Justin Timberlake onto my damn computer…you’re lucky I remained sat at the screen, I almost ran off screaming into the night!
That scary Citroen
It’s a clever marketing gimmick that’s for sure and evidently very successful. It certainly catches the eye and there hasn't been a car ad that's evoked such emotion in me since the new Mini ads (which made me feel quite nauseous). There’s a dedicated website for the dancing C4 and as it loads the parts ‘fly’ in gracefully to form the 'Citroen‘bot'. You can download the ad too although why you’d want to do that is beyond me! It’s the tool of evil I tell you; perchance would it be to stop young children from putting their filthy mits on your Apple Power Book?
I mean the car itself in all its civilian glory is pretty mean and menacing looking, all narrow-eyed at the front with angled headlamps not unlike winged eyeliner; ever so slightly arching it’s back like a ferocious old pussy cat stretching in readiness to shred you to bits after you’ve poked him awake from a restful slumber.
I think this fear of the Citroen harks back to my childhood. As a young girl I had a Transformer, Optimus Prime, the big truck one that carried all the others around, I loved him to bits, he was never killed in any of the battles I had with my playmates and their evil Decepticons. His theme music would be 1980s electro pop and OP always flew in to rescue my ailing corgi and rogue scalextric cars. Could you see the C4 doing that? I think not, he would trounce in taking over motor village (the creation of my fragile 8 year old mind) ousting my corgi cars and Optimus Prime and turn it into a break dancing den of iniquity.
You may recall I mentioned articles? What do you mean no?! Gosh less than a month and you're not listening already. Here's the first of many inspired by my recent Ally Pally jaunt.
Domen have the monopoly on the high-octane motoring chatter familiar to those frequenting hostelries throughout Christendom? Here is a subject that I hold dear to my heart, yet it is constantly met with distinct disdain.
I own five cars, only one of which could be deemed as sensible family motoring, the rest being complete classic basket cases needing constant attention, but even in 2005 us ladies just aren’t allowed to revel in conversations about horsepower, torque, ‘blipping the throttle’ of a V8 Aston Martin and sleek lines. That’s probably because, after kittens and knitting all we’re interested in are how many boxes of shoes will fit in the capacious boot space; how many cubby holes there are and whether we can scrub the seats clean after little Tommy pukes up his milkybar on the back seat whilst our café latte comes tumbling out of the take-away cup because the barista didn’t put the damn lid on properly.
Throughout history there’s been loads of gorgeous women who could thrash the balls off many a bloke in the same racing class but were never really given the opportunity. You only have to look to Helle Nice the Bugatti driving exotic dancer of the 1930’s and her peers and the countless women’s motor racing and motorcycle series of the present. They just never got the press or media attention like the chaps.
Well, fortunately this is not an article for the Woman’s Weekly or The Lady brigade and I think it’s about time women of a certain age rose up and professed our undying passion for thrills of the internal combustion engined variety without having to be 20 stones and dressed in denim dungarees, but know when to bail out before it all becomes a bit too…well… hairy.
As women we’re not just there to make the cars look pretty at the myriad of motor shows and press launches and frankly I’ve never seen the point in having a skinny blonde (as they all inevitably are) stood next to a Ferrari Enzo who knows bugger all about it other than the fact that “it’s red innit?” surely this detracts from the actual car?
Motor manufacturers are missing out on a huge marketing potential using attractive upwardly mobile financially independent young ladies who actually know what they’re talking about on stands at motor shows; two birds one stone ring any bells? Case in point occurred to me this weekend when I was immersed into the somewhat unchartered waters of the classic vehicle exhibition.
I was helping out on a stand for the motoring club I belong to and for the most part many bearded chaps smiled graciously at me in my full skirt, make up and pretty nails and preceded to question the gents who were my colleagues about the highly coveted and successful 1966 Alfa Romeo GTA we were exhibiting.
I felt I had to protest and spent the rest of the weekend forcefully imparting my limited yet thoroughly researched information that only 500 of these vehicles had been made and this was in fact specifically modified and was successful in the European Touring Car Championship of 1967 upon any male that happened to pass, confessing my love of ‘the oily bits’. This was met by shock, surprise and then bizarrely respect; a respect unlike any I had ever experienced before. I was bought beer, doughnuts and involved in the jocularities of the day’s events, I even shared a pie over lunch with some chaps whilst discussing the finer points of a BMW Isetta bubble car. Motor manufacturers could tap into this untold mine of information and use like minded ladies to help promote their wares to the world at large, I think it would prove fruitful.
It was whilst on this crusade however that it dawned on me. I had become an honourary chap. Beneath my make-up and Chanel they saw me as the same salt of the earth oily rag-wielding creature as they - and I didn’t like it, not one bit. No more could I draw their eye by flicking my fair locks or flashing a wry smile, it was like I had been welcomed into an unusual drip-tray blinkered cult. What could I do to revert back to my womanly self?
I spent time whilst discussing the price of a stainless steel exhaust for a Ferrari 250 (probably the price of a decent Tiffany necklace/ear-ring combo) pondering how, if at all I could regain my feminine prowess. It hit me like a bolt from the blue or in this case pink. On a wander round to stretch the legs I saw it sitting in front of me, a Jensen in two tone salmon pink, “it’s so pretty!” I squealed with girly delight at the kitsch car before me, the eyes of my male counterparts rose skyward “Amanda, you are such a girl”. The penny had dropped; bingo! I’d found the ejector seat.
We ladies have a unique power that should not be wasted, we can have our automotive cake and eat it too, use our techy talk to become accepted and then when it all gets too much use the break glass of motor speak; colour, no chap will ever hold interest once we become embroiled in the motoring equivalent of getting ready for a night out. Use this skill wisely and you too can chat with the chaps being able to jump ship when it all gets a bit too, well manly. I never did like dungarees anyway.
Ah yes the Great British Easter Weekend; chocolate (lots of, it's almost the law), relatives and traffic jams.
Rather than post relentlessly about what I got up to, here is a photographic summary of Easter Sunday spent watching Oxford v Cambridge University Boat Race from the riverside at Chiswick (Oxford won btw). It was a nice day, over far too quickly mind you so the nearby pub with vast stocks of Guinness was hugely handy. Shame about the mud and rain though, then again it was Bank Holiday....
Eager anticipation The expectant crowd gathers The calm of the Thames Aaaaaaand Oxford streak past (to be said in mandatory Murray Walker-esque voice) it's off to the finish line Hmmmm have to say I'm glad I parked elsewhere!
Men with beards, classic cars and my first trip to Ally Pally
Alexandra Palace sits atop of North London and boasts an amazing view over the city, on a clear day you can pick off the landmarks one by one. This was just such a clear day, as was yesterday and silly me forgot to take the photo *face:palm*.
I went to Ally Pally yesterday and today to help out at Classic Cars Live on the stand of the car owners club I belong to; the Alfa Romeo Owners Club http://www.aroc-uk.com. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, one thing's for sure there were rather alot of bearded men. Now I'm not making any accusations about men of a certain age who like classic cars, but it does seem amongst the motoring fraternity (and motorcycles for that matter) that age brings facial hair. Thank god I've not reached 30 yet.
Over the past two days I've learned all about the Alfa Romeo GTA and GTC on our stand and got to know some of the chaps who keep the club going, including club Chairman Jon Dooley, a very interesting and thoroughly pleasant man, I'll happily seek him out for a natter at future events. I met photographers, journalists of many varieties and lots of like minded people with an empathy for things all-geriatric-car.
Yesterday (friday) my friend Vikki brought along her cuddly sheep mascot which we placed on the roof of the 1967 European Touring Car luminary GTA, which proved rather fruitful; lots of bearded men came and took photos.
I went to watch James May (of BBC2's Top Gear, pictured at Ally Pally below) do a Q&A session about his stable of elderly cars & bikes after which I expressed to him the fact I didn't think he suited his new 1980's Porsche 911, I see James as being more of a relaxing driver down a country lane in something comfy (like his Bentley T2) listening to radio 3 with a pretty young lady alongside and nice hamper full of decadent foodstuffs and alcohol bringing up the rear. James said that I hadn't been the first to air my disapproval of the 911, and went on to say he approved of my Alfa Spider. Cut to me feeling guilty, James, I'm sure you'll enjoy cutting loose in the 911, just watch out for those bends!
James May
An explanation: I like James May, he's one of those people I view as an unread book, bloody interesting and just my sort of slightly acerbic, laconic motoring journalist who seems to have a penchant for cars with a slight air of "basket case" about them that need homes (a bit like oneself). Now I feel slightly guilty about this but nonetheless through my curiosity and undeterred interest, I somewhat forcibly made James a (probably definite) unwitting acquaintance of mine early last year through the fact we work for the same organisation. Sorry James.
I digress...However, I do think the presence of a young lass on the stand confused the bearded types, they assumed I was there merely to look at (although with my confidence looks-wise I saw this as a potential crowd dissolver), so I had to be pushy to get the fact across I was a fellow petrolhead. Saturday was full-on car talk from beginning to end, I met Mark the AROC's web meister who rather bravely put up with my girly witterings for most of the afternoon (a gold star and motor muppet valour award nominee). Jeremy was with me for the whole weekend and told me all about his trips with his cars and the fact he brought back his Spider from the US. He always had a smile and never once complained about the fact I kept retouching my lipstick and saying I was in love with the GTC because it was "sooooo pretty" (motor muppet valour award nominee).
motor muppet word of the weekend: "pretty" motor muppet phrase of the weekend: "it's just one of those cars that looks fast, you know like it's moving but it's standing still..."
This photo was taken on a hazy sunny winters day in November 2004. I'm sat in my favourite spot, the driver's seat of my Alfa Romeo Spider, roof down no italian sports car would be complete without big shades and be-messied hair (mine usually is), I'd just come to a stop for a cup of tea after blasting away the winter cobwebs.
This probably won't be the most interesting of posts as it's my first! I've had blogs before but found they became an online transcription of the soap opera that is my life, so have vowed The Motor Muppet will not plummet down the same slippery slope. Nope with The Motor Muppet I'm hoping to share my views on motoring and debut some of the random articles I write as well as posting photos and my various musings on things that take my fancy, interspersed with a little of what I get up to in my day to day life.
Welcome to the world of the Motor Muppet, I hope you have ABS, ESP, airbags and a large tin of travelsweets.
