:: Diary - August 2013 ::

:: Sunday, August 4, 2013 ::

Another TVR Car Club day! Unfortunately, it's back to the same old venue. Their redeeming feature is that they have a decent car park.

I go through the usual 3-car shuffle to get the TVR out of the garage (it's such a pain being a multiple car-owner) and then notice (before I am half-way through the middle of nowhere, which is my norm) that I need to put some fuel in. So I go down to the supermarket and the "pay at pump", to save me queueing for half an hour in the shop behind people who remember, as they are half-way through paying for fuel, that they also want 20 fags, a bag of crisps, some elastoplast, duracell batteries (they go on and on and on… sound familiar?) oh no better make it 40 fags, a phone top up, 14 lottery scratch cards and a spearmint chew. Meanwhile half your fuel has evaporated because you forgot to shut the fuel cap before you came in…

Em… where was I? Oh yes - pay at pump. Put in card, open filler cap, turn back to pump "card declined". Try again. "Card Declined". Put card away. Fill up with fuel anyway, then go into shop. Card accepted, no problem. I decide to say nothing. But then she decides to be helpful, the poor wee soul "Did you know that you can save time by paying at the pump'" she says.

Government Notice: This paragraph has been deleted under David Cameron's new policy to tidy up the internet for family viewing.

So now she knows.

So it's on to Dave's, to meet up with Jim, and a new boy called Mike (I'm sure I've met him before, but he's been busy setting up his eventual retirement shack in the Highlands, so he's had difficulty getting a "day pass" toy come out to play with the rough boys.

The cars are all looking lovely though (the same can't be said for the owners, sadly. Here's the group:


Hugh's


and mine...


and Dave's.


Here's a new thing… I bought a dash-cam that you plug into the ciggy-lighter (or you can wire it in if you prefer, but I haven't) so I'm going to try to make a wee video! It's only the size of a box of matches, it doesn't have a screen, so you need a computer to see what you've got… always a recipe for disaster. I've been using it during the week though and it has been perfect.

So we set off from Dave's, video camera showing wee red flash, so it's recording. We go by a route carefully selected to avoid the TVR-catching straight near Dunfermline, and arrive at the hotel later than we usually do, so most people have ordered their lunch. This means that the queue has subsided somewhat, but also means that the probability of being approached by a shambling hobo to tell you that they have run out of stuff, is dramatically increased.

I order what is supposed to be BBQ chicken, so off they go to start hatching the egg. When it eventually arrives, it's the oddest BBQ I have ever tasted (unless the Bengal Palace has a new Australian chef). I suspect it started out 4 hours ago as "chicken balti" on the menu, but didn't turn out as chef had planned. It's still nice, though.

Chat covers a wide range of topics as usual, not exclusively limited to "how to either get a TVR S in bits, or put it back together again". Mike's attendance record, my happy-go-lucky nature, and Dave's shy and reserved character, are all discussed. Those don't take long.

We decide to help Mike get motivated on the car-cleaning front, by polishing one wheel and dressing one tyre. It's lovely.

All too soon, it's time for home. Video camera back on, pointing backwards this time (seeing as I am in the lead) and off we go, back through the bank holiday hordes. It's like driving through the land of the living dead…

Still, I get home eventually, unplug the camera, plug it into the computer, and I have a total of about 20 minutes of video - either the lead hasn't made contact in the charger, or the car's ciggy lighter wiring isn't as reliable as it should be.

Never mind, I'll cobble a wee video together - it takes ages though!

A wee photo of both cars together. I'm a lucky boy.



:: Tuesday, August 6, 2013 ::

I forgot to mention it on Sunday, but the right hand side of the bonnet popped up a couple of times on the way to the meeting, so it obviously needs adjusted a wee bit.

First I stick some tape over the catch, and lower the bonnet to see how the lock pin lines up. I notice that the whole bonnet is slightly skewed to the left, so I remove the left-hand wheel arch and adjust the hinge slightly (by shortening the length of the bit bolted to the bonnet itself, which moves the left side back, and pushes the whole thing to the right).

Then I adjust the lock pin again so that it lines up properly. Hopefully that'll sort it.

While I am doing that, I find myself meditating about the meeting on Sunday, and remember that we were at the table nearest the kitchen door, but last to order, so while we were waiting for our chicken to hatch, the staff were arriving with plates and asking "Is Fred at this table?" etc (repeat ad fecking nauseam with the names of every other person in the room except for the ones sitting at our table). The fact that the often got the name wrong so asked for "Ian: when they meant "Alan" didn't help the serving process.

So today I was pondering a solution. The options so far are:
Name badges;
Fancy dress so instead of saying your name when you order, the staff just write down "giraffe costume" or "astronaut" or "Elton John" and then each order can be identified at a glance.
The staff learn to recognise people that have been going for years. No, that's just silly;

But the best solution I can come up with is: I don't order anything at all. If the staff arrive at my elbow, and say "Fred?" I say "yes", and wolf it down before the real Fred realises that he hasn't been served yet (that gives me plenty time, at the rate the meals normally appear). Bet it doesn't take them long to come up with a better system after "Fred" kicks up hell…

So with next month's free dinner sorted out, I can get back to my video. I've stuck it on you-tube so click on the piccy below.


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