MINOR ADVENTURES

QUITTING WORK TO RETURN TO UNIVERSITY SENT TONY ON MANY MINOR ADVENTURES

TONY WATTS

OWNER/GETTY IMAGES/UNIQUE CARS ARCHIVES

There’s plenty not to like about social media, but the occasional post can raise a smile, such as a recent one featuring a 1954 Women’s Weekly advertisement for a Morris Minor, claiming it is “one of the world’s safest cars”.

The accompanying image is of the whole family enjoying that safety, without a seatbelt in sight.

That the driver is not looking at his phone negates today’s guffaws somewhat, but I have reason to believe there may be something more to that safety claim.

Years ago I made the decision to quit full-time work and go back to university. Despite that, I was smart enough to know as a poor student I wouldn’t be able to support a needy dependent, so the Alfa had to go. In its place I wanted something cheap and easy to repair.

An un-Alfa.

If it wasn’t totally awful that would be a bonus.

I reckoned a Morris Minor would fit the bill: It checked the box for simplicity; if I didn’t want a special model – a convertible, woody or baker’s van – it was affordable; and I could at least have some pride in it being a classic, if a Minor one.

Knowing car clubs were the font of all knowledge about these models (before the advent of the Internet), I joined the Morris Minor Owner’s Club of Victoria, and went along, wide-eyed and ready to spend.

The consensus was that if I was looking to buy a Morry, I should speak to Dave. Sure enough, he had a car to sell, and I should come over on the weekend.

Dave’s house was not what I was expecting. The front yard was full of Morris Minors. The long driveway too. I counted at least 17 of them. And there was a garage out the back full of engines. “Fifty bucks for a short motor,” he smiled.

All I was after was a running car, and the cheaper the better.

The choice was between two plain-Jane, four-door, mid 1960s

1000 models, one for $300 and the other for $350. I chose the second, because it had a heater.

Melbourne.