RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CXIII, Issue 33276, 13 July 1973, Page 18

RANDOM REMINDER

WHAT WATT

We referred the other day to the affection some people show for their old cars, though it doesn’t actually prevent them from selling them. It reaches its most pronounced form with vintage cars; and no wonder —the price of vintage cars is comparable with land values and there’s no such thing as a 90 per cent tax on profits. The owners of vintage cars are indeed fortunate; for it’s only a very small proportion of car owners whose investment appreciates the older that investment becomes. But this affection occasionally poses problems. We know of one young man who, many moons ago, bought a car of 1925 vintage. He ran it till it dropped and then left it to moulder in an almost for-

gotten corner of a shed. As time passed he realised that what he had regarded as disposable junk was appreciating madly in value and he set about restoring the car in the best vintage tradition. It took months, but the car finally emerged on the road again looking, if anything, better than when it first saw the light of day at Wolverhampton, some 50 years before. But although it was roadworthy it could not obtain a warrant of fitness. During its long incarceration the law had been changed. Instead of one headlight simply being extinguished to serve as dipping it was now necessary for both headlights to switch their beams. Our friend is resourceful, but the problem nearly beat him. In the end he found the only practicable method was to insulate

the headlights from the rest of the car with rubber washers and to make each headlight alive. This was the only way he could achieve legal dipping. The system worked. But one day our friend was halted in the city by an elderly gentleman who, it seems, had owned the vehicle years and years ago. It was raining, but he made a close inspection, complimented the owner and gave the car an affectionate pat here and there. “They built them well then,” he said judiciously, slapping one hand on a headlight.

He did not quite disappear in a puff of smoke, but the expression on his face was strange to behold and his cry of anguish caused nearby pedestrians to scatter. As they sav, many amps make light work.