Don't judge a man by his car

Jowett Jupiter (in good condition)

Charles Darwin, the English naturalist, is quoted as saying, "A man is known by the company he keeps." In my case, I'm glad he didn't say: "The cars he's owned" because quite honestly, most of mine have been absolute rubbish.
The first real car I owned was a 1953 Jowett Jupiter. This was a two seater convertible with many previous owners and built-in rust. I acquired the car shortly after I married, convincing my new wife with stories of romantic drives in the country, sunshine and wind-blown hair.
The reality was quite different in that the first opportunity I had for taking my new bride out for a drive was in an English winter.
"Wrap up well and we'll be able to drive with the top down."
Collapsing the car's canvas roof required a fully equipped tool box and 30 minutes of dedicated time. The reverse was equally difficult.
For the first part of our journey the weather was reasonably kind and my lovely wife moderately happy. It was when we got caught up in a slow moving traffic jam and the snow started that the situation turned to custard. There was just no way I could park the car and/or put up the car hood.
For the next hour we travelled in silence as my new wife slowly disappeared under a covering of snowflakes. Finally the traffic eased and I was able to park the car and start the process of brushing down and appeasing my wife. I knew something was wrong when she remained rigid throughout the process.
I tried lightening the mood with a positive comment: "The engine's running well - what do you think?" The response delivered in an ice cold voice was; "Two choices, sunshine - me or the car. Now put the roof up and take me home before I completely freeze to death."
The advertisement I wrote for the next issue of the Exchange and Mart magazine was a creative masterpiece and offered to swap a much sought after classic sports car for anything with four wheels, heater and a fixed roof. I finally settled on a Fiat van with a 500cc air cooled engine. I drove away from the van's recent owner with his final words fresh in my ears: "Always start slowly; the engine has a tendency to bounce around a bit at first."
Five weeks later, driving through the one-way system of Leicester in the British Midlands, I found out the extent of the engine's susceptibility to bounce when it successfully leapt for freedom. Fortunately the engine was light enough for me to collect it from where it had landed and put it in the boot of the car. I spent the rest of the day obtaining the necessary bolts that allowed me to re-attach the engine.
Fifty something years later I'm fortunate to live in a city that has excellent car dealers. I call my most recent car the Chick Magnet. My lovely wife calls me deluded. Still, I reckon Charles Darwin would be proud of me - given I'm a survivor.