The men don’t know, but the little girls understand

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I’m driving the Lomax to work at the moment. Ostensibly, this is reliability testing for the Welsh. We went away to an Outwell/Robens camping weekend at Low Farm in Lincolnshire and had to get low-loaded back after an ignition failure, so a bit of work was needed. After a few dramas things seem to be running sweetly now, though a concerned chap behind me at the lights got out of his car yesterday to tell me that there was an alarming fug of petrol emanating from me.

I figure that if we can successfully get to work and back for a week, then we’ve got a chance of making it to Castle Caerinion.

But that’s just the excuse. Driving a bright blue roller skate to work makes me a Conspicuous Person. Oscar WIlde said many witty and true things, but the one I tend to live by is this:-

the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.

I pass three schools on the way to the office, two primaries and one Engineering College. Little boys wave because we look like something out of a Pixar movie. Little girls smile and tell their daddies that they want a car like that.

Teenage boys sneer. The fear of being different outweighs the joy of looking cool. And how can driving an open-top sports car that you tuned yourself be anything but cool?

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