Tuesday, 5 December 2000

Personal

Boys toys

[In the MX-5 with Dad]

I don't know if this is what really happened, but it's the way I tell the story now.

It starts in the summer of 1994. I'm at Ashburnham Place on an Alpha weekend with HTB. My group head down to the beach for the afternoon, and suddenly I find myself whizzing round country lanes in a white sports car with the roof down and a beautiful blonde at the wheel. "This is a boy's best dream," I think to myself, "but right now if I'm totally honest I'd rather be at home chatting with old friends."

Fast forward. October 2000. Driving home from a gig with Sue. We're following an MX-5 out of the car-park, and I mention 1994. But this time I embellish it. "I've always wanted one of those," I admit.

Sue laughs. "You? Finally interested in material goods?" And so I decide it might just be a good idea.

Further forward. November. I'm visiting Dad in hospital. He's dying, and Mum and Dad decide to give each of us children a lump-sum. Dividing up the inheritance early. I sit on his bed. I've some car brochures under my arm, in case we need something to talk about. He points to them. "What are you doing here, when you should be buying one of those?"

I'm not too keen on taking the money; I feel like the anti-prodigal:

"Son, take your share of the inheritance."
"No. I'll only spend it on fast cars and loose women!"
"Exactly. Now get out there."

And now finally to yesterday. I picked up the car, I drove it home. But what's the use having a new toy if you can't play with it? Back in the car I pointed it south and drove to Mum and Dad's.

The moment I stepped in the door, Dad lept up. (I've not seen him move so fast in a long time.) "Pauly!" he shouted. We hugged, and he shuffled to the window.

There was no stopping him today. We wrapped him up warm, and hit the road. He had a route planned out in his head. "I want to take the Burgess Hill road," he said. "I want to see how well it corners."

Back home we dropped the roof and posed for photos. Photos. Memories. Souvenirs. It's been a good day.

This entry authored 4 March 2004. It was the last time I drove Dad anywhere.

Posted by pab at 19:48