A Quiet Gentleman
It’s an overcast day here in Los Angeles, which seems sadly fitting. In the early hours of this morning, we lost a quiet gentleman, and I can’t help feeling the sun has chosen not to shine as a mark of respect.
Drino Miller was born in 1941. A Los Angeles native, who ventured up to Monterey in Northern California for Junior College at a time when the area was known for its rural charm rather than a valley of silicon. His fascination with engines appeared at an early age; purchasing his first car before the age of eleven, determined to understand how it worked. This passing phase never completely disappeared; and by the time he reached his late teens, Drino was exploring the South Pacific with his brother, following a year spent in Tahiti working on a not so large yacht they intended to sail back to California.
Returning back to Newport Beach, Drino continued to work with boats until he decided it was time to finish school.
A remarkably clever man, who never forced his opinions on others. Drino was well-read & well-traveled, with a wealth of knowledge and information. His educational background reflecting all of those attributes as he first studied Political Science at UCLA, and once he’d graduated then turned to Law School. Despite his intellectual interests, he combined his love of vehicles and travelling whenever possible; exploring such areas as Baja when there was a break in the educational action. The terrain was grueling and regarded as motorcycle, rather than car friendly. However, in 1967, the off-road racer Ed Pearlman invited Drino to join him in the attempt to set a new speed record through Baja. Although the plan to beat any records was thwarted, their experience set wheels in motion for what was to become the Baja 1000.
Drino’s involvement with Pearlman led to a meeting with Vic Hickey; a designer at GM who was to become synonymous with such iconic vehicles as the Chevy Blazer and Humvee. This was 1967 however, and Hickey in the early stages of developing his future. He offered Drino a job, to join the GM team as they started development of the first purpose built off-road racing vehicle. A temporary blip on the horizon, when General Motors decided not to move forward with the project – however Hickey managed to obtain private funding and immediately called Drino to rejoin his team. The result of their partnership was to become known as the infamous Baja Boot.
http://www.conceptcarz.com/z19959/Chevrolet-Baja-Boot.aspx
Drino’s involvement with this new approach to off-roading sparked more of his own ideas for designs, and was to be the beginning of a remarkable career. He also met world class motorcycle racer, Bud Ekins; and the two men enjoyed a friendship that lasted until we watch Bud ride off into the sunset in 2007.
Drino was an engineer, an enthusiast and a racer. That combination ensured he both continued his development, and tested his theories off-road. By 1970’s he not only entered the Baja 1000, but earned overall victories in that race as well as Baja 500 and Mint 400. This passion for success expanded into his own business, Miller-Havens Enterprises. Working with another engineer, Stanford Haven; they specialized in engine, transmission and conversion kits for Baja Bugs (the Boot being a based on the VW Beetle). Their idea was clearly successful, as it spawned a number of other companies offering similar kits for other cars. The off-road market has continued to grow and develop, without question owing a great deal of thanks to Drino’s early imagination and determination.
In less than a decade, Drino’s business & expertise had expanded to include sports cars and midgets; as he worked towards his plan to build Indy Cars. By the mid 80’s, it became apparent to his peers that Drino had as much talent with people as vehicles; and based on his success at Le Mans and Indianapolis 500 he was invited by Andial, the high performance Porsche tuners, to join their sports car program. From Germany to Japan, joining the team at Toyota to manage their TRD (Toyota Racing Development) Program. Here, Drino joined forces with Dan Gurney; supporting his race wins in the four main categories of motorsports – Grand Prix, Indy, NASCAR & Sports Car.
Leaving Toyota in 1996, Drino focused his attention back towards motorcycles, working with ProCircuit to develop engine parts, and support a number of successful riders. It also gave him more time to enjoy the other aspects of his life – exploring Europe with his wife, Lisa; heading over to Ireland with Bud to explore the delights of the Irish Rally, racing in a more gentlemanly style.
So, why am I sharing this story with you? Because Drino was always so humble about his experiences, knowledge and success; and because I was lucky enough to consider him a friend. Sadly, the more recent times we spent together were overshadowed with his illness; but both he and Lisa shared enthusiasm and support for my small attempts to contribute to automotive history with the Egg. Hanging with Drino and Bud, listening to them recount their stories and adventures? Truly special memories indeed.
DRINO MILLER July 30, 1941 – March 4, 2014
Out of blogging hibernation once more!
February 2014, and we’ve been accepted to take part in the Copperstate 1000, again. My navigationally challenged mechanical cousin will be resurrecting his role of co-driver, and I’m optimistic my Christmas gift of “Map Reading for Dummies” was both appreciated and studied. Third year in a row and the event feels like a favourite leather jacket; becoming more comfortable as time passes.
There were a number of high points from last year; but the best aspect was being locked in a small metal container with a family member. Although we’ve known each other my entire life, I left England in the mid 90’s; so our time together has been limited. Without question, my initial excitement was replaced with a nervous tinge of “What have I done?” as his arrival date loomed. Biology only gets you so far, and can’t guarantee you’ll actually like each other. I still thought of him as my slightly eccentric teenage touchstone of grown-upness; but our reality was going to be two relative (pardon the pun) strangers singing “getting to know you” under possibly stressful circumstances.
Fortunately, what we both discovered, much to our amusement; was just how similar we are. I score more points on the style and navigation scale; but the eerily familiar twisted sense of humour and occasional sentence finishing couldn’t be ignored. Being able to fill in the blanks of our respective lives over the past twenty years since I moved from England ended up being an absolute gift; and allowed us both to be extremely honest about the good and bad experiences that inevitably come with growing up.
And then of course, there’s….the ears!
Please don’t laugh but, I have ridiculous ears. They are far too small to be effective as a permanent hair hook, and seriously limited my piercing options in the 80’s due to the size of the lobes. Apparently they were supposed to continue growing, but clearly mine never received the memo. I realise on an important list of things to change, I maybe score a 2.5/100, but nevertheless – they’ve been a source of embarrassment and teasing at numerous times. The only marginally good news on my auditory horizon, I have one on each side; better news – he ended up with the same model! Clearly there was a bulk purchasing deal somewhere in the 18 months between the two of us being born, as our lugs could be identical twins.
Anyway, I digress. Back-ish to the original topic…..
I’d planned to try Autocross with the Egg after Copperstate 2012. An idea that never came to fruition, but still remains on the bucket list. Post 2103, my mind switched to the concept of endless road trips. Discovering how easy the car could deal with 1000 miles meant CA is really nothing more than a combination of Google maps and willing participants.
The high spot of this plan came last summer, when I persuaded a friend to come with me for a quick backroads trip to Santa Barbara. Inspired by the route book we have for each event, I spent a couple of day meandering my marker along different roads on Google, paying particular attention to the windier and smaller options. By the time I’d finished, my spiders web was a thing of beauty, matched only by my excitement to show off this newfound prowess of “Routemaster”. Or would that be Route mistress?
We headed out early, as the journey was to include Santa Paula, Ojai and Lake Casitas. Turning off the 118 towards Moorpark, I couldn’t help but notice how impressed my passenger seemed to be as he reviewed my detailed and very specific directions. Smiling, I confirmed two rights and a left would have us heading towards the 118 and fabulous switchbacks of Grimes Canyon in no time!
Except….the second right was a cul-de-sac, and clearly taking us nowhere. At this point, I had to also admit I’d forgotten to grab the back-up Thomas Guide, last seen sitting on the dining room table (such a rookie mistake). It’s a behemoth map book, about the size of War & Peace, and covers all routes available in LA (to my English friends, it’s our equivalent of London’s A-Z, but on way on more steroids than even Lance Armstrong could imagine taking, evah!). Realistically you’ll only use 10 -15 pages regularly, but it’s always useful to have the other 300 plus available in case you are lost somewhere in the inner or outer limits of Los Angeles.
There was only one option, a quick duelling of technology – Iphone versus Android. I’m still not really sure who won, but it was certainly interesting listening to Suri and her Samsung cousin giving directions in stereo. Minor hiccup soon overcome, and we headed in the correct direction towards our final destination. Snagging the Grimes Canyon section for my own driving pleasure, once we were back to more pastoral vistas I handed the keys over, and settled into the navigator’s chair.
There’s nothing quite like watching the Egg waving her magic on another unsuspecting victim. Sure enough; it was only a matter of revs before the irresistible combination of smooth gear shift and perfect handling as we headed around Lake Castaic, produced that slightly idiotic grin I’ve seen only too often on my own face. By the time we reached Ojai, he was completely smitten and I felt almost unkind when I suggested “Maybe, I could drive for a bit?”
So…as I start preparations for 2014, I’m confident that it’s going to be another great adventure!!
(Editors note: Suri = Tom’s Cruise’s daughter. Siri = Apple Voice Recognition. Apologies to Mr. C for any confusion that may have ensued)
Tortoise and the Hare
Wednesday arrived, and with it the final leg of the 1000 miles of this year’s Copperstate. We had almost made it out of the hotel car park before the mechanical cousin realized he’d left his cell phone happily charging in the breakfast room. Fortunately I have excellent turning and reversing skills, so we returned, retrieved…and headed off again.
Through Sedona, only to be met with extremely bad traffic. Living in LA, this is not an unusual experience; unfortunately we soon discovered the cause was not regular congestion, but an accident involving one of the Copperstate Highway Patrol. All emergency services had come out to help one of their own, a reassuring but still worrying sight. We later discovered what had happened – turning into a forecourt to check on another entrant, the Patrol officer was hit by a driver who decided to pull straight into traffic without stopping to look first. There was no time to take any avoiding action, and serious injuries were sustained. A situation I’ll revisit later.
Our ultimate destination was Scottsdale, and the morning route took us out to and through Prescott, and with it more stunning scenery, charming old towns and happy waving people as we drove through. The weather couldn’t have been better if we’d special ordered it. Moderate temperatures meant the Egg’s “two windows down” air conditioner was all we needed, as we meandered along small single track roads with only other Copperstaters for company. It was difficult to believe we’d already covered almost 800 miles in a 49 year old car, she was literally singing like Maria as we cornered every bend; and everything about the performance continued to improve the further we drove. We kept pushing the distance between gas stops, for no other reason than she was running more and more efficiently; maintaining a speed of anything from 65 – 80 mph was simple, because that’s where the car wanted to be. “She’ll be bulletproof”, the Egg Doctor told me, and he was absolutely correct!
The last stretch of the morning took us up and down and through switchbacks coming into Bagdad. As this section had been included last year, I was delighted to see it again, and just as happy to let my mechanical cousin drive, and enjoy watching him enjoy the experience. He smiles a great deal anyway, but by the time we reached our lunch spot, I was sharing the car with a human equivalent of the Cheshire Cat. Good times.
There are some great cars, and some really great drivers on this event. One of which was a professional Porsche racing instructor/racer; who very generously offered to let Harry ride shotgun for the afternoon in his exquisite Jaguar XK150 OTS. The remainder of the route was easy enough for me to navigate and drive, so I reassured him that I’d be fine. He left, I continued chatting with friends…but there was just something that didn’t feel quite right. Sipping coffee, I replayed the late morning….switchbacks, happy cousin, pull into car park, get out of passenger seat…happy cousin locks car and we walk into restaurant…happy cousin has my car keys. Happy cousin has gone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In less time than it takes to shout “get out of my way”; I left my seat, sprinted (much to my amazement, had absolutely no idea I could move that fast) and found the Jag literally about to disappear into the wild blue yonder. One “oops” later from the family member, before they disappeared in a roar of engine, and normal service was resumed.
The final leg from Bagdad to Scottsdale was a great combination of open scenery that stretched for low desert miles in either direction, with occasional bursts of small towns. At one point it was just me and the Egg, cruising happily along a route that was so quiet, I wondered if maybe I’d accidentally taken a wrong turning and stumbled into somewhere the world had forgotten about. Time has a different meaning in this situation. No radio, no need or desire to be glued to some electronic device, a watch that I inevitably forget to wind most mornings…all I could do was just enjoy the moment and the environment. Through Wickenberg, every speed limit was fastidiously observed – as the local constabulary had politely alerted us that any decision not to do that would be dealt with appropriately. The Copperstate isn’t a race, it’s a rally – but when you’re presented with perfect driving conditions, and long inviting roads, it’s easy to forget that there are limits we’re expected to maintain!
One final section before reaching the outskirts of Scottsdale included another change of scenery; driving through Peoria and the tall pines were back. A few miles that reminded me again of Europe, before coming back into the early afternoon heat and sunshine that everyone associates with AZ. I pulled into the car park, and was quickly amused to discover that I’d beaten the XK150….which explained the stationary flash of red I’d spotted on the way out of Wickenberg!! My tortoise to their hare, clearly benefitting from the classic F1 move of the when to fuel. How often it all comes down to time spent (or not) in the pits 🙂
It’s an “Egg Carton”, dear….
T minus 23 hours before we reach Phoenix….the seven day weather forecast for parts of the state as I know we’re visiting promises perfect driving conditions…..not much else to share at this point, other than my favourite shot of the Egg this week:
A week of excitement, and we’d only reached Tuesday!
Monday morning, and off to the Egg Doctor. His face as the engine sputtered and choked told me more than I needed to know…..Houston, we have a problem. With enough understatement to qualify for English status, he stared accusingly at the offending sparkplug and reassured an update as soon as possible. Meanwhile, somewhere in Northern California; my mechanical cousin remained blissfully unaware of the current state of our pre-rally preparation….a situation I did not relish having to change!
Monday turned to Tuesday, and my usual wake-up alarm was replaced with a call from the doctor. Good news, the machinist had been available, and was already working on…something. Not so good news, when your automotive GP is using terms that resemble a mechanical surgeon, things are looking down, way down. He asked when the car was scheduled for collection, and I couldn’t help noticing the slightly longer than hoped for pause when I answered, “Thursday”. Another reassurance of an update when he had one…and all I could do was head off to the office, and consider at least a Plan B, if not a Plan C.
By lunchtime, I’d worked out that if more time was needed to eggmend, we could resort to an alternative option – drive out to Palm Springs on Friday evening, find a Motel 6 and then head onto AZ early the next morning. Not a completely awful plan; it just meant ensuring everything important (Maximus to Cat Camp) was sorted out a day ahead of schedule. From there, my Plan C became a little more vague, as vintage cars do not grow on trees, and I really wasn’t sure how easy it would be to disguise my SpaceCar as a ’64 Porsche without anyone noticing. Adding to the air of general concern was my cousin’s now imminent arrival at Burbank airport later in the afternoon.
Just as the clock struck 12:30, the Egg Doctor called. His patient had not only left the operating table, she was completely cured and ready for pick-up!! Once I arrived, he showed me a few offending articles – snapped o-rings, valves imitating a trumpet judging by the differences in their locations, rubber seals clearly past their prime – it was one big unhappy family of parts. All of which made me realise, the one extremely bright light at the end of this particular tunnel was the situation occurring BEFORE I left CA, rather than AFTER arriving in AZ. Doc then handed me the keys and kindly told me not to call again any time soon! A request, I had every intention of keeping.
Into the driver’s seat, turn the key….and she sounds AH-MAY-ZING. Doc had assured me the Egg was now bulletproof, and listening to her idling, I absolutely believe him. The level of the engine lower, but the overall sound sweeter. Pick-up noticeably improved, revs better…..it may be an oxymoron for something almost 50 years old, but she seemed to be a brand new car!
Mechanical cousin arrived on schedule, and I shared the excitement with him over an obligatory cup of tea. The panic already replaced with a sense of real Copperstate Adventure, he seconded my enthusiasm that the situation was really nothing more than making both of us feel a little more rally-ready!
T minus 3 and Counting!!!
Remembering someone special…
Life in California for the past 17 years has included some great experiences, places and people. At the top of the list of people continues to be someone I was lucky enough to call friend, and he was kind enough to refer to me as “The Tea Lady”….a wonderful man called Bud Ekins. Bud was and still is a legendary figure – a great motorcycle racer, the stunt man responsible for the Great Escape jump and a wonderful raconteur. Until you were accepted into the inner circle, his ability to completely ignore was almost as impactful as the classic one-liner putdowns. But once he’d decided to grant membership; the opportunity to just spend a few hours listening to stories, re-visiting old races with him, or just hang out quietly…..they were all such special opportunities.
My first meeting was intimidating to say the least. The Saturday crowd (a collection of old racers, friends and gear-heads) had already assembled at his workshop. Bud was holding court; sitting on his bar stool, occasionally waving his finger and chain-smoking unfiltered Gauloises (he raced in France during the 50’s, and came back with the name Chanticleer & penchant for their cigarettes); with an incredible collection of early teen motorcycles and automobiles as the backdrop to his tales.
Clearly an outsider due my gender & lack of motorcycle knowledge, I hung back to let my then husband talk all things Triumph with him, for a while. The sign above his pool table “Women Keep Out”, was pretty self-explanatory; so I just listened. Bud was electric, and the audience ADORED him. It’s a strange phenomenon, to see grown men in the presence of their real life hero………….
A few visits later, I warranted a smile or two; and then one day the world changed completely. Bud and the ex were heading to a motorcycle related something, and happened to be also dropping something off to me at the office. Walking away from the car, I turned back to wave goodbye – and received one in return from Mr. Ekins. It was a magical experience & from that day on, & I was part of the team. A slightly different membership category, as my racing stories were limited at best. So instead we would talk about his racing days in East Anglia, memories of travelling with his wife Betty when they first married, endless excursions to Ireland for his participation in an annual motorcycle rally…and anything else that just went “quite nicely, thank you” with a cup of tea. The pool table wasn’t used much when we first visited, so I persuaded Bud to teach me. A born winner, and highly competitive; he was still happy to tolerate my endless appalling attempts at scoring anything when we played – simply because I think it always amused him that I refused to accept that I really wasn’t very good.
Over the following ten years, I grew to know and love this old curmudgeon dearly. We were lucky enough to go to motorcycle auctions, racing events, car and bike shows with him. The number of fans that he had never diminished, in fact with each passing year the affection and respect seemed to deepen.
Our friendship seemed to percolate from the routine of tea with milk in the yellow cup, and he would make many visitors wait for my to show up with it before he’d pay them any attention. It wasn’t hard to spend hours listening to his stories, as they always came with an affectionate twinkle in his eye; but even more importantly I came to understand that Bud was a great man to have in your corner. He loved women, in a “they’re tough, really are the stronger sex, can do anything” way. He never doubted my ability, even when I was faced with situations that didn’t seem so easy.
Unfortunately Bud’s health deteriorated, as his body started to pay for all those years of riding, racing or occasionally throwing himself off a bike in the name of a great movie moment and; so towards the end our visits were to his home more often than anywhere else. The routine stayed relatively simple – ordering fish & chips from “Pizza Man” (because he delivers!!), whilst I was in charge of pouring his whiskey (2 fingers, easy ice) and we just spent evenings talking about nothing in particular. It was more about the opportunity to be with a man I had certainly come to consider more like of father than even a friend.
And then in 2007, we lost Bud. For all of us that knew and loved him it was, & still is, a void that can never be filled. I managed to see him one last time in hospital, and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to tell him how important his support. understanding and friendship had been.
To celebrate the man, his life and the legend, a memorial service was held at Warner Brothers lot on 2nd December. I’m not sure what the studio expected, but it was a truly incredible day. More than 750 people showed up to pay their respects one last time, and remember this great man. Assorted stories were told by racing legends and automotive aficionados, but the moment that bought us all to tears was hearing Donna & Suzie (Bud’s daughters) recount the alphabet the way Daddy had taught it….from Aprilia to Zundapp.
For me, there are some great memories, some special moments and then of course the tag line he gave me, that still makes me blush and smile….”It’s the tea lady. I like to see her come, but I love to see her go”!!!!
(For more information about Bud’s racing history, go to http://www.budanddaveekins.com)
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- Riders entering the Warner Bros. lot
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- If your name’s not on the list, you’re not getting in….
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- The best way to celebrate a motorcyclist…..
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- ’40 Summers Ago” book signing…Bud with his racing companions.
Countdown begins….!
Friday Feb 3rd…..email arrived, confirming that I’d been accepted for the 2012 Copperstate 1000. I am soooooo excited, in a couple of months, the Egg and 75 of her newest best friends will be tearing around the scenic roads of Arizona!
Immediate flurry of activity, as the car & mechanical inspection list were dropped over to TRE. Delivered her with my own list of small concerns – passenger seatbelt less than auto-rewinding, constant hot air (eventually) coming into the cockpit which seems to be more than just heater operator error, gears a little sloppy – but hopefully no signs of anything we should have to worry about.
By following mid-week, first question from the garage…..do we replace the tyres or keep fingers crossed that enough tread on 6 year olds will suffice? Quick conflab with my oracle for all things, and new tyres were decided upon. Initial decision may have been easy, but the selection process immediately turned into something slightly more intimidating. As the car already has ’71 Fuchs wheels on her, with 185/65-15 originality wasn’t a requirement and it seems likely from previous event year’s routes that we could be experiencing a variety of different driving conditions…plus I wanted her to feel at least a little racerish (current set are not the most exciting round a corner)! TRE threw out the idea of full blown racing tires as a second set…but with a garage already full of stuff I’ll probably never use, I decided to use a more unscientific approach to my tyre investigations…
- How appealing is the tread pattern?
- What are the reviews like for handling?
Happy that the combination of both points would come up with a variety of options, I started by looking at tread patterns (because aesthetics count for plenty in my world, shallow as that may seem) & then looked at user feedback on a variety of sites. Growing up watching Formula One with my mother dictated that Michelin, Dunlop & Bridgestone were automatically included in the selection process, but after a couple of hours I settled on something completely different; 195/60-15 Kumho Ecsta ASX (ASX for All-Season Xtreme).
By week two, the tyres were delivered, brake master cylinder & heater valve replaced, new passenger seatbelt ordered, bracket for the battery (used one from a later model 911) installed, fire extinguisher fastened, TRE Dave was organising my tool kit & I’d been trying to work out exactly how easy a Le Mans style start is going to be…….!
Hello world!
Last year I came across a great event called the Copperstate 1000 (http://www.mensartscouncil.com/cs/) …an excuse for 75 vintage cars to drive around various roads in Arizona, under the watchful jurisdiction of an organisation called the Men’s Arts Council. It’s been running since 1990, and seems to attract a pretty sensational collection of cars. Four days, 1000 miles…and some great photo opportunities.
As the very lucky owner of a 1964 Porsche 356C, that I affectionately call “The Egg”, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to give her something more inspiring than the usual LA driving we encounter. Not quite confident (yet) to consider vintage car racing, and a little intimidated by some of the more “macho” events that seem to be on offer here; Copperstate seemed to be an interesting option. If nothing else, I could apply and be politely turned down!
So late last year, I sent my application in and then started to run through the information available on their website to work out just what I was possibly letting myself in for. Three things stood out immediately:
- Mechanical inspection
- Co-Driver
- Navigation
Although I wasn’t a girl guide, and I’m not sure I’ve ever dated an ex-scout; these items made me realise that being at least somewhat prepared would be worth exploring. The mechanical inspection was pretty overwhelming, and included lists of requirements that made me question every creak & groan I’ve come to love when driving the Egg. Maybe that wasn’t just a little bit of old age and appreciation as she took the corner for me? Was it possible that differentials were loose, or cables were unthreading? Does she even have differentials or cables come to that?
Fortunately, the Egg has been lovingly looked after by the brilliant team at TRE Racing in Van Nuys. We’re a little lower on the racing evolutionary scale than most clientele, but the Egg holds her own when she’s there, and seems to gain plenty of points for her beguiling rear end. Quick call to Jeremy and Dave, who reassured me that my lack of diff knowledge and inability to select new tyres based on anything other than tread pattern, would not be insurmountable issues to overcome…all we’d need to do was run through the mechanical check list, and address anything that may come up.
I’ve come to look at the Egg in the same way as I’m sure friends and relatives look at their kids. There are no issues, we just have challenges (this is my way of willing the problems to be cheaper; which I’m happy to report has been pretty successful so far) Obviously its helped by the fact that despite her iconic shape, she’s a pretty simple little beastie overall… essentially a VW Bug with pretensions….and there’s nothing wrong with that! I duly crossed my fingers that the trend would continue should we reach the mechanical check list stage and moved on to #2.
Co-driver…..this required some serious consideration.
- Need someone who can drive, obviously
- Not likely to reduce me to cringe position as passenger
- Tolerable for long periods of time, or just as easy to ignore
- A level of mechanical understanding that will make up for my distinct lack of same
- See point #4
- See point #4
I really didn’t that many options, & figured that I’d have to leave this question unanswered until the very last moment……and then a flash of genius occurred over a canapé last September. Auntie Colleen’s surprise 80th birthday resulted in a number of family all coming together for the celebration. The party included cousin Harry. He’s my charmingly nerdy “older brother by another mother”, who just happens to have an impressive history of restoring, building, playing around with and owning old cars. There was a minor aberration when he acquired a mid 90″s Subaru SVX….but we try to skirt around that whenever possible. Clutching my hors d’œuvre I suddenly realised I was looking at the perfect victim….and proceeded to make my pitch.
Moment of thought, eyebrow raised, slight smile…I had him 🙂
Which of course brought me to point #3 – as we both share one very particular family trait. We are absolutely hopeless at giving or following directions.
You tell me left. I will nod in full agreement and understanding….and then turn right. Can’t help it, don’t take it personally….its just an inbuilt inability for the eyes, brain and direction to all work seemlessly together.
Clearly this will need some more planning…..
eggadventures 