Wednesday, March 28, 2012
At the tender age of 17 I sold my soul to a 1979 MG Midget. Or, at least I sold my body into indentured servitude to it. I spent my entire earnings from two prior summer jobs and my part time job after school to acquire this little gem. Fire engine red. Black racing stripes. Mag wheels. And, yes, a sixty-five BHP engine. As cool as that sounds and as anyone who has ever owned a British Leyland product already knows, I spent a lot of time tinkering with the car to keep it running, often at the most inconvenient of times.
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