Cheers, fellow Healeyites.
It's a good thing that we have had recent "barn" sightings of Healeys
because I was just treated to the normal and the abnormal experience of
taking the Healey out with me as I performed everyday household "honey-do"
duties. I've just ransomed it from my favorite shop and it was time to
drive it about without smelling oil burning. Or at least only a little.
Wouldn't want to give it up completely. Too much of a shock to my system.
Amazing! Put some lubricant into the steering box and it really isn't like
turning a Brockway around in a cul de sac.
A new piece of plastic where the throttle rods come together makes response
so much better.
If the oil isn't blowing out everywhere, it stays where it should and
pressures increase to where you don't think you filled your engine with 5
quarts of cutting oil by accident. So off I go. First to pick up my mother
at her nursing home. As I take her outside I meet a nice person that
actually knew how to turn off the headlights. That immediately gave me
confidence in him.
Turns out he never owned a Healey. This is possibly the only person I've
ever met who didn't own one. However, his story was that a friend totaled 3
of them and an E-type. I tried not to wince. The observer was a nice man
and I tried to listen to his stories without shedding tears, but there you
have it.
Next stop was at the auto parts store where I was regaled with the tale of
how this guy always thought of getting a "Harley" but he had a '79 E-type"
he was restoring at home and didn't want to "corrupt' his effort. I thought
that was a nice turn of phrase. I took my tire polish and left.
Finally, the best story. I was pulling into the happy juice store just as
someone was backing out of the parking place right in front of the store. I
sit there lubbering, lubbering as he stares at my car. His car stalls and
he can't start it again. He looks out his window, turns his key for the
third time and gets it in gear. Pulls up beside me and says, as he looks
down on me from his imperious Toyota Corolla height, " Wanna' trade,
straight up?" He smiled and I could clearly see all four of his teeth. I
agreed to the pink slip switch. He said, "Beautiful car." We parted
friends.
Get out and ride, pals, it's great out there.
Bill Moyer, BJ7, now more Chimera than ever
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