Call me an idiot, or an old nostalgic dreamer. But in spite of having more handheld PC’s than I can use in a lifetime, enough mobile phones to provide in the needs of a small African country, more wireless gadgets than the 82nd Airborne division, more hi-tech technology than Q could dream up in earlier Bond sagas… I can still hopelessly fall in love with old beauties.
So in a rage of pre-midlife crisis, I bought one of the cars I secretly dreamed of since I was a little kid: an MG TF from 1952. A nice, old English lady, perfectly restored by Stephan from SD motors. Back-to-basics. No power steering, no power breaks, no airbags, no high-tech tralala. Fast and unsafe. But O boy, is she pretty. And she is mine 🙂.
My little nephews are probably going to honk themselves a tendonitis on the old horn, and call my newest possession “Froggy”, but I can live with that… green is the new black!