ENGLAND’S NEW FAD

Dominion, Volume 23, Issue 80, 28 December 1929, Page 27

ENGLAND’S NEW FAD

CHRISTENING THE CAR

In England one of the latest fads of the motoring world is for the owner to decide on a name for his car, and then to have the name neatly inscribed on the bonnet, says an exchange. It is doubtful whether the practice will everbecome; anything more than a fad, and yet there is no reason why it should not be more wisely followed. If every motor-boat or hydroplane is entitled to a name, why not every car? At present only racing cars and some home-made sports models have distinctive names of their own; for the rest, banal stock phrases are used when discussing the car. The supercilious junior clerk speaks airily of “my cab” when referring to a little runabout that will go only when somebody sits astride its bonnet with a watering can to keep the radiator filled; and others again, as for instance, Captain Campbell, will refer to their cars affectionately as “the old bus” or “my old crock.”

That is good enough. A car should have a name of its own, something to differentiate it from the thousand and one others, to lend the human touch to it, to make it something more than a mere machine. To every ownerdriver his’car should be something more than a mere piece of mechanism. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) there is no baptismal font to which to take your car. You must baptise it yourself, and, if you choose, may do this in fine style to the music of clinking glasses when first you take delivery. But this procedure is not as satisfactory as waiting awhile and allowing the car to win. a name for itself. This may sound strange, but it is true. Cars often have won names for themselves. Some mechanical defect or idiosyncrasy of the engine, or some accident or adventure that has befallen the car, is a potential source of supply for the ideal name. The cover of the spare tire, at the back or side of the car, forms an excellent place on which the name could be neatly and artistically painted. At present a large number of these rear tire covers are disfigured by unsightly advertisements that offend the eye, and to have appropriate names in their stead would be a decided improvement.

Of course if the practice gains ground, incongruity will immediately become noticeable. Just as a row of small cottages may glory in the name of “Windermere Mansions,” while a huge country house may be called “The Love Nest,” so we may quite possibly find a huge eight-cylindered sedan, low and luxurious, being , called “Sonny Boy,” while some absurd little roadster with a decided knock in the engine, may be known as the “Grey Panther.”

A young friend once came across au advertisement in a newspaper, reading: “For sale, rattling good car; sound in every part.” Not being accustomed to reading between the lines, he went along to see the owner of the car, who showed him a ‘time-worn relic of the early days of motoring. More in sorrow than in anger my friend turned away, when the humorist owner, in a flood of generosity (?)/ offered to let him have the car for seven pounds odd and to throw in a packet of cigarettes as well. The purchase was made. Driving home, my youthful friend realised just how truthful the advertisement had been. “Rattling” was the correct adjective for the whole ensemble, and there certainly was “sound in every part,” except, possibly, the hooter. There was only one name for that car, and to the end of its numbered days it was known as “Paderewski.”

Quite recently two brothers bought themselves a “baby” car each, and, with the tune of the latest song hit ringing in their ears, called the cars Bohunkus and Joseph respectively. Those were fitting names for “baby” cars, and sports models should always have names that are snappy or humorous if incongruity is to be avoided. And speaking of car names, one must recount the tale of how Jones’s car got its name.

Jones had bought a second-hand car. “I understand that giving pet names to cars is the fashion jut now,” remarked a friend. “By the way, have you named yours yet?” “Yes,” replied Jones, “I've called my little bus ‘The Gliding Star.’ ” “A jolly good name, too,” agreed the other. “I suppose because, it takes you everywhere you want to go?”

“Well, not exactly,” replied Jones. “The reason is I always seem to be underneath it.”