Hi there,

I actually wrote this article for an Irish 'vintage car' publication (i.e. anything other than the aforementioned 'vintage car') and they would not publish it. I always bought the magazine and they were looking for stories about car shows.

They said it would alienate their readership, the poor little sensitive mites!

Pat.

PEBBLE BEACH?....MORE LIKE PADDYS BOG!


I have long wished to attend a car show somewhere in the World other than Ireland. Shows here consist, in the main, of rotting vestiges of the once 'great' British empire combined with stalls selling totally useless gaskets and unidentifible 'bits and pieces', which have long lost any desire to live.

After every show I attend here in Ireland I swear on my late dogs life never to set a wheel near another one. If I could lay a bet on how many times I will hear certain words, phrases, or how many times my tyres will be kicked I would be a wealthy man by now.

Firstly you pull into the field here that makes the lunar landscape look inviting, and some self appointed car park attendant in an luridly fluorescent Hi-Viz vest will wildly gesticulate his arms around like his arm pits are on fire, trying to catch your attention. He wants you to reverse your 1934 Packard (with extremely limited vision) into an impossible space between two MG Midgets, while you use small children as bollards. Needless to say the MG owners are not happy as they consult their solicitors about their Right To Light as they cower in the shadow of the Beast.
Before you get to even switch off the engine, the 'Men In Flat Caps' are lining up, lists of 'Common And Annoying Things To Say And Do At Car Rallies' in hand. And so the pre-ordained well-rehearsed pantomime begins. The man in the front of the donkeys' outfit turns to his rear end and bellows, "That's some car!", to which a voice emanating from his ass adds "be gob, it sure is..what is it?" The front half of the act will usually come to the conclusion it's a Rolls Royce, despite the fact 'Packard' is written as large as life in six places on the car. I decide not to engage in conversation for fear of being told I do not know what I'm talking about, and being treated like an idiot.
Stepping out of the relative safety of my tank I scan the horizon for Flat Cap Men. It's a dangerous time; a Tyre Kicker could sneak up from the rear at any moment. The MG men are quiet, maybe because of the permafrost that has set in, or maybe they know its only time before I'm surrounded by various classes of sub-species of Flat Cap Men and Tyre Kickers, and that silence is the best option.
The light starts to fade, not because the Sun has gone in, but because of the menacing crowd heading directly for The Beast. I try to deflect them with distracting comments, "hey..look over there, it's a Mk3 Cortina with Thruflow Ventilation!" or, "is that Rolls Royce supposed to be on fire!".

Sadly all to no avail.

The first wave of The Unwashed Masses approaches The Tank. The assault begins in earnest, the leader of the rabble, hands on hips and a cigarette butt balanced precariously on his grease caked lips bellows out, 'they don't make them like they used to' to which I invariably reply, 'thank God for that!'. Other typical gems might include, 'my uncle had one of them' or 'what year is it?' usually spoken while they test the wings by banging on them or standing on the running boards doing a rather poor impression of a 30's gangster, although judging by his suit it did see gangster service in the '30's!

I don't know the origins of the 'Wing Banging Test' but along with the 'Tire Kicking Test' it must fulfil some deep primitive desire, like an Orangutan beating its chest

A non-technical type sometimes accompanies me. She only needs to know stock answers to stock questions in order to qualify as an Packard expert. The answers are as follows, '5,500cc, 8 cylinder, 14mpg, 1934, 65mph, American. Can you guess the questions?

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the apparent miraculous change in legal ownership of cars entered in shows. Once parked up they are now in public ownership, for you have now entered a communist mini-state, and any thoughts of private ownership must be dismissed from the capitalists' mind. The peasants swarm all over the car, nothing is safe, even the petrol cap must be secured with a chain to prevent it becoming a family heirloom. I can only assume these poor people have never seen a mechanically propelled vehicle before. It's a delight to see their innocent faces light up when they realize that yes, the steering wheel does turn the front wheels, or, when it dawns on them that a door handle will, with enough force, open any car door, even if its locked. I believe, according to third hand accounts from travellers I have encountered, that great respect is shown to exhibits in lands far away, they even speak of the Plebeians are kept away from exhibits with something as sophisticated as a rope!

On a serious note I must say that the damage caused to paintwork, door handles, steering, gears, and running boards combined with a plain lack of respect for other people's property lead me to attending fewer and fewer shows each year. At one particular event this year I returned to my car after purchasing a plastic cup of hand blended connoisseur tea to find a complete family unit sitting in my car eating the staple diet of the masses, chips (or fries)! I asked if they would mind getting out of the car only to be told they were doing no harm and that I was spoiling their day!
I used to have a sign on my car stating, "Please do not do anything to this car you would not do to your own". Perhaps this was viewed as an invitation? One day I will carry out my threat to follow these mindless nincompoops back to their own cars and as the good book says, 'do unto others'. Over the past few years my warning signs have become a little less polite. Now I am a bit more forward. These days a sign stating, "Do not touch this car, I know where you live!", combined with a snarling girlfriend, will keep most Flat Caps and Tyre kickers at bay.

If you ever see my car at a show again let me save you the trouble of kicking my tyres by telling you now, yes, they are made of rubber, and no, there is air in them!

All I ask for in return for writing this novelette is 2 First Class airplane tickets, first class accommodation and the loan of a Packard to visit to a real show with real cars and real enthusiasts!

If you got as far as this...I am very impressed!

Pat.

Attach file:

---

  (34.28 KB)

Me and my wife? NO NO NO NO!

Just another of the hundreds of couples who have been carried in my Packard on their wedding day. I love using it for weddings, the car has an air of serenity and gracefullness about it that brings happiness and a sense of occasion even the most lack-luster wedding!

Attach file:

---

  (38.30 KB)

Clipper47, I am very impressed with your Irish! I see you are based in Canada, A number of peoplecan speak Irish out there I understand?

Pat.

Attach file:

---

  (40.54 KB)

Thank you, BigKev for your PM and everyone else for their support.

The Irish have a particular aversion to others who 'drop a dime' despite of being on the receiving end of an unwarranted attack.

These people fade away eventually and to acknowledge their existence only encourages them. I will choose to not name and shame for these reasons.

Thank you all for your support and you can look forward to more inane postings from me asking particularly stupid questions along with totally inappropriate commentary!

Lets leave it there and get on with the work!

Slan go foill,

Pat.

Attach file:

---

  (37.48 KB)

I will refrain from making any comment as to why I ask the question. Lifes too short to try and understand some peoples motivation.

I will continue to post!

Thanks

Pat.

Hi all,

Does ANYONE object to me posting about my Packard? I know it has being modified for the reasons I have outlined, but on viewing some other threads I see there is some disscusion about such non-standard Packards. I have no desire to get involved in the swings and roundabouts of the politics of such matters. I greatly enjoy this forum, it is by for the most helpful and informed by far, and I would hope I could contribute something in return.

If anyone does not feel this is the place for me, please let me know and I will withdraw gracefully.


Yours,

Pat.

Well, my man, I would love to come back to you with some complicated mathematical formulae pertaining to the complex relationship between the opposing forces of the solid mass of the cylinder head and the reciprocating force applied to it by the bits that are attached to the spindly things to arrive at the compression ratio.

But I cant!

But I will try!

Pat.

Hi there,

Check to see if the inlet manifold drain is working alright. There is a ball-bearing at the end of the drain which is drawn up to seal the pipe when the motor is running. It drops when the motor stops releasing any liquid left in the inlet manifold. If it is not working oil/petrol/water will be drawn into the motor and come out the exaust as black discharge. I had this problem, it really baffled me!

White smoke is most likley head gasket. Blue, engine oil. If it is a worn or uncared for engine you may have multiple problems.

Pat.

My motor is fitted with a High Compression head. (stamped on the head) Was this an optional extra or fitted for some other reason?