Your tales of Jags and Healeys past (and passed) reminded me of my first car, a 
'58 MGA. It was low, sleek, drafty, and unreliable. When parked during winter, 
snow seeped through the side curtains and piled on the seats. It took forever 
to warm up. And the wire wheels loosened, and wobbled when they did. But the 
night of nights was when the Prince of Darkness struck on a small bridge 
connecting Manhattan and the Bronx during rush hour. Suddenly all the red idiot 
lights came on and the car stopped dead. So did NY traffic, backed up for miles 
behind me.? After much cursing at me, several cab drivers helped me push it the 
rest of the way off the bridge.? 

Eventually all good things come to an end. For the MG, it was by being crushed 
by a pink grille-less Dodge against the side of a Buick, an MG sandwich.? 
Remarkably, it ran reliably to its own funeral at the scrapyard. Life is funny 
that way.

Long live Honda. 

Jay S
92 NH 750
South Florida

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