Finally finished and ready to go. My ageing Honda Accord has been given a new lease of life. Over the past three weeks, readers will be aware of my decision to give the beast a decent makeover. After initially giving the interior a thorough valet and cleaning the grimy windows, I was motivated to keep going, I must say the panel and paint shop did a rather nice job of the car's exterior and, with the new alloys, it's looking darned near as pristine as when it came out of the showroom all those years ago.
The time was right. If I had let things go for much longer, the car would have ended up as scrap. When it comes to considering one's vehicle for upgrade or replacement, serious number crunching has to be done.
Of course for some, the way to go is just to choose something brand new, go for a test drive, arrange a bank transfer of 40 grand or more, less the trade in - and drive away. For me, there's just as much pleasure to be had in doing up an oldie and making it look like new. And hey, despite having clocked nearly a quarter of a million kilometres, the VTi six cylinder engine purrs just as it did the day I bought it. Time now to take the And Another Thing team, but not the cats, on a grand tour around the countryside!
Snatching the keys from a dangerous driver may seem a gallant thing to do in the interests of protecting other innocent people who share the same stretch of road. But, for some compelling reason, the practice has really caught on and has clearly got out of hand. Left unchecked, our roads could have vigilantes confiscating not just the keys of zigzag drivers but of those about to step into a vehicle not displaying a current registration or warrant of fitness. The police are right to discourage well-meaning fellow motorists from taking the law into their own hands - extreme circumstances excepted. Such an incident happened to me a few years ago. It all started when I noticed the dude in the car behind me driving very erratically. There he was in my rear vision mirror with his red sporty growling beast right on the tail of mine, surging and retreating like a stalking panther.
"I've gotta watch that guy," I thought and sure enough, when I stopped at the traffic lights, he whacked into the back of me. Fortunately, my tow-bar prevented a reshaped boot.
