Things we used to do

If you are in the deepest east of Groningen (Endless muddy flat fields, gray skies, fleeing clouds, remote old farm, large barns and stables, chance of earthquakes, an older collector. We will return to this) a collection of classics, then the conversations quickly go about 'then'.

'Then' was the time that theft of your car was effectively prevented by lifting the rotor out of the distributor cap. For outside sleepers, the entire distributor hood often even went inside. Not even to prevent theft, but because moisture and 6 Volt are simply not the most successful combination.

But even riders of diesels sleeping outside had a hard time at the time. And the road builder who one morning thought to start his rebellious Mercedes Diesel with the 24 volt of his dragline and a big dash of gasoline in the air filter? He has never done that for several reasons.

But it turned out that he was a little hard-leather a year or so later when his son Huub and his Healey three-liter, a cheap English sports car that nobody else was interested in, hit a tree. And in 1965 trees were really strong things. Father and son had estimated the case and thought they should address the bruised former warrior.

The rear axle of the battered Big Healey was chained to one of the stands of the hall with a solid end chain. A few other ends of the chain were chopped on one side near the front suspension. The other ends were secured to Pa's Caterpillar. A long story short: The pole in the shed remained standing. The rear axle remained lying. The remains of the Healey were pushed away with the Caterpillar dozer blade. And a new car arrived for Huub. A VW Beetle. That seemed safer to his parents.

The Beetle was for the first time just as fast as the Healey in real life. With a strip, Huub ensured that the bonnet cracked sportingly. And the rims were simply mounted inside out so that the wheels filled the wheel arches nicely. Oh yes: later one of the wheels came off ...

But of course there was not only bad luck and misery: There was also humor. You could make someone crazy by treating him to an inexplicable rattle. You did that, for example, by hiding a pebble stone behind one of the front and rear wheel covers. If relieved a pebble had been found, then you always had the pleasure of the second.

Also always nice: throw a ping-pong ball into the tank opening. Good chance that it rolled over to the gas tank at the time. And then you had an inexplicable rattle again, but only when the tank was almost empty and the ping-pong ball always hit the bottom of the tank ... Nice! That's how you made friends for life.

That was almost as much fun as smearing someone's wiper blades with Vaseline ...

So. And now take a look in the garage or under the car port. There is your addition-friendly sjoemeldiesel, your hybrid, your Dacia or Tesla.
And do you ever think so much about it?