Transformation - The Keegan years.

‘In the corner of the workshop, Olli Ragbin sits watching events unfold before him’

One way to look at things is to view transformation as bringing order to chaos. Transformation seems like a good thing. Well, in small doses perhaps. In big doses it’ll scare the living daylights out of you.

Back in the day when I first put on a suit and went to an office to shuffle paper, I transformed from a schoolboy in school uniform, to a worker in a work uniform.

Being the late 80’s that particular work uniform was a dark navy suit with blue flecks and a grey suede leather tie (thin). The Burtons store card had been invoked and 45% APR was the price to pay for me looking like a complete spanner with a ‘Kevin Keegan’ afro.

Even though I liked the look, it probably explained the slow start in attracting a romantic partner. Not many signed up to be seen out with ‘Keegan dressed as Nik Kershaw’. Strange that. Anyway, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger eh?

Car transformation can also be fraught with danger. My son is about to embark on his car journey with the likely purchase of a small starter car from the Vauxhall model range.

I know deep down that he will want to transform that with the addition of wings, spoilers and a noisy exhaust. This will, to his eye, be a good thing. This will, to my eye, be something akin to what dog owners pop in a little plastic bag and disposes of in the nearest bin.

The prospect of him parking it outside my house and therefore visually connecting this monstrosity to me for all my neighbours to see, genuinely terrifies me.

This week in CCM we had in an example of what good and sympathetic transformation can look like. A 1970’s Triumph GT6 is a beautiful British sports-car in its own right. Why change? Well, with the addition of a tasteful Hurrican body kit, the GT6 takes on a completely different look.

From the rear, it’s Alfa-spider-esque…even the side vents echo Alfa. And the first thing I think of when I see that grille, is pure Zegato. Now tell me, can you think of a better comparison for your English sportster than the aping of the look of an Italian-tailored bespoke creation? A blue-flecked suit from Burtons it most certainly isn’t.

(Interestingly, the GT6 was originally penned by Michelotti and it was a pair of English brothers, Robin and Martin Vincent who had the temerity to update Italian design flair with artful use of an English eye. Doesn’t happen very often that.)

More artisan work unfolded as our latest addition to the team, and one of Eric’s purchases which I think may even have had formal approval from Ingrid, completed her transformation from cute British classic into cute British mobile advertising mechanism.

In the world of Facebook, Insta and Whatsapp, we’ve taken the sandwich-board approach to advertising and will soon be out and about in Maureen, the Minor with a message.

(top marks to Gerald the sign-writer for a simply beautiful job)

After last week’s crowning glory of fixing and sorting the window-winder-thingee in the Morris, Izzi felt her status in the workshop was worthy of recognition and so decided that instead of the tiresome effort required to move from one place to the other by just walking, an engineer of her calibre deserves to be wheeled from here to there on a jack (Eric is just out of shot here, following with peeled and chilled grapes on a velvet cushion).

You can’t fault her logic and I suspect Siobhan was at this very moment wondering whether this whole ‘team motivation’ thing had perhaps gone a little too far.

I don’t know what ‘honing a steering box’ means. I know what a steering box is. I understand the concept of honing. I’m just not sure why one needs the other. Anyway, here’s a picture of Dr Ray doing just that to a box which steers.

I don’t think I’ve been paying enough attention as the only other news from my side this week is that in our usual goading and one-upmanship, I tried to convince Eric to buy half a motorbike (again) and he tried to convince me to buy a cheap classic Jag from an auction site. Ingrid will be pleased to hear that neither of us were successful on this particular occasion….(give it time though……).

It’s May and it’s still raining so I’m going to leave it there for today. I’m about to have my first ever tennis lesson along with my youngest son, so humiliation awaits. Maybe I’ll put on the old suit to distract the casual onlooker from noticing my cack-handed back-hand.

So from all at CMM, Eric, Siobhan, Dr Ray, Shrimp-eye Justin, Young Chris and Izzi. Have a great week.

Olli

(ps. Ingrid, I was only joking….of course I would never try to convince Eric to buy anything as daft as half a motorbike.)

((pps. Eric, I think I see a way through….))