[Spridgets] The English odyssey of Frank and Buster

[Mark J. Bradakis]

Here's one that got snagged in the list shuffle.

mjb.


  Date: Sun, 03 Jun 2007 00:56:08 -0700
  From: b-evans at earthlink.net
  Subject: The English odyssey of Frank and Buster

As we crisscrossed the back roads and rural lanes of England, I lost 
count of the times Frank Clarici muttered, "Damn, I wish I had my Sprite 
on this road!"  Such is the vast road course of England away from the 
cities and "dual carriageways".  Although he had insisted he would not 
drive on the wrong side of the road in our odyssey, he quickly changed 
his tune when I had taken a brief jet-lag snooze on the on the 
northbound M-1.  From then on, he had a great time on the English roads, 
especially going around and around on the roundabouts trying to find the 
right route.  And, of course, driving on to the next roundabout when we 
finally realized we were lost and had to go back the way we were coming.

Frank developed quite a palette for English food, and was ready to enjoy 
everything from Yorkshire pudding to blood pudding to bangers and mash 
to mushy peas with his fish and chips!  And yes, he did bring home some 
spotted dick.  He even cleaned his plate of the traditional fully cooked 
English breakfast.

The Spridget list members we met proved to be great hosts.  We cannot 
thank enough Daniel Stapleton (daniel1312 at aol.com), and his family, Alan 
and Pam East-Jones (alan.east-jones at ntlworld.com), and Jim and Vicky 
Lodder (blacktulipmidget at yahoo.co.uk)  who will now be visiting Pam and 
myself in Southern California in August. 

We also took the opportunity to drop by the shop of Pete Farmer 
(pete.farmer at virgin.net), one of England's premier Sprite and "other" 
Healey restorers who is currently preparing cars to bring over to events 
this year and next.

Visiting AH Spares, we received a great welcome from its managing 
director, Bob Hill, who not only supplied us with some needed parts, but 
passed along some free trinkets, as well.  While there, he and Gordon 
Barton shared with us an "unknown" photo of the latter in a prototype 
sprite with flip up headlights and a strangely configured bonnet.  
Although Donald Healey would have had kittens if he had known a photo 
had been taken of this particular prototype, Bob thought that he had 
been gone long enough that we could get a copy for the Lake of the 
Ozarks celebration next year.

Along the way, we were able to be the typical tourists to England, 
taking in the Coventry Transport Museum, Stonehenge, Warwick Castle, 
Salisbury Cathedral, Admiral Lord Nelson's historic fighting ship 
"Victory", and Lord Pembroke's magnificent Elizabethan Wilton House.

Finally, it was off to the Beaulieu Autojumble.  You would think that 
Frank was a little boy in a candy shop as he discovered that what I had 
been talking about was true.  It was truly amazing what treasures he 
could discover when he began rummaging through hundreds of bins of 
assorted used parts.  As I had found years ago, he began loading up on 
things that he didn't need right now, but either could not pass up or 
knew he would eventually need someday.  I had told him to bring along an 
empty suitcase, and fortunately he did.  We were both amazed when he was 
able to cram all of his goodies into his two suitcases! 

Although I had two more weeks in England, I had to bid Frank farewell 
the next day when he left Gatwick Airport for home.  All in all, it was 
a great trip, and I would highly recommend Frank as a travel partner, 
for he proved that he has never met a stranger.  In fact, the regulars 
at the Royal Oak pub in Great Wishford (pop. 300) took him as one of 
their own for the weekly "quiz night"!

When I was ready to head for home, I was in Gatwick Airport when I 
learned that two days before, my wife Pam had been  rushed  to the 
Emergency Room.  Because of the chemotherapy and medicines she had been 
taking, her immune system was almost non-existent and she was in 
critical condition with a mysterious lung infection.  Her blood pressure 
had plunged to 49, and she was having a difficulty breathing.  Believing 
she was dying, our children had been frantically trying to find the 
Travelodge I was staying in before flying home.  Shortly before my 
flight, I called home and learned only that she was in the hospital, but 
spent nine hours at 40,000 feet worrying because I did not know what was 
going on.  Fortunately, by Wednesday night she had improved enough to 
come home.