Sixties style, Teenies tech

IT'S nice to think that when people go onto West Lancashire Borough Council's website to sort out their council tax, they might well be granted with this wonderfully evocative image featuring my very own MGB GT.

I only discovered this poignant picture of MGs from years gone by the other day when I was checking a possible Champion story out but I'll let you into a little secret; I haven't actually driven the bumble B much since that sunny Bank Holiday weekend. In fact, it's been holed up in a garage since then, undergoing a series of subtle but hugely beneficial upgrades.

First off, it's been treated to a much newer and less holey tailgate, which should do wonders in preventing the small lake which lives in the boot appearing every time it rains. Until it's finished I've been limited to taking the MGB out on days when I know it isn't going to rain, which with it being Britain means I've taken it out twice in the past month. It's frustrating, but my luggage will thank me for it!

Another essential bit of kit Santa's brought early is a new fuel tank which - trust me - isn't as dull as it sounds. My biggest bugbear with the BGT is that thanks to having the original fuel tank it suffers with the same problem as every other fortysomething smoker; its lungs are filled with muck, so it coughs and splutters if you ask it go for a run. A new fuel tank means not only less time coughing and spluttering at the side of the road but should actually mean it'll be able to dump more fuel into its two enormous carburettors, more of the time. Which'll make it faster.

But what I'm really looking forward to is the new stereo I've just had fitted to it, which moves the MGB's in car entertainment from a very stodgy Pioneer radio job from the early Eighties straight through to the very latest MP3-ready, USB compatible, digitally futuristic job I could afford. Get this; it's a a 1972 car with a DVD player!


This immediately begs two questions.

Should a 40-year-old classic have such a defiantly modern stereo? Admittedly, I did agonise over whether to fit a retro stereo, but decided against it because a) they're expensive, b) life is too short for a shoddy Seventies eight track stereo and c) the old stereo wasn't the original anyway, so I figured fitting an even newer one wasn't about to dent its originality. I'm sure the purists will sneer at classic car shows, but that'll be twice a year. Enjoying the right accoustics, on the other hand, is an everyday delight.

Do I need a car stereo with an inbuilt DVD player? I've tried to kid everyone that it's to keep me entertained on camping trips but the answer's a tad simpler than that; I am male, and all men love needless gadgets, especially ones in MG-style retro packaging. If I had enough time and expertise I'd build the world's first WiFi-equipped MGB, brimmed with weapons grade technology and gadgets that'd give a Porsche 959 a run for its money.

Which the leaky tailgate would immediately ruin...

Yes! Yes! Yes!

EVEN if he didn't bring down the Berlin Wall there's one thing we can all learn from David Hasselhoff; never, ever try talking to your car.

I was reminded of the Baywatch star and ambassador of all things slightly cringeworthy while at the wheel of Mazda's MX-5, one of my favourite little sports cars, in what should have been one of the most delightful drives I've bagged all year. With 2010's longest evening, a seaside resort, sunshine and a bright red roadster at my disposal, I had all the right ingredients.

It's just a shame I mucked it up by trying to set up the phone instead.

On the face of it cars with Bluetooth are a brilliant idea, because it removes any temptation to race around with Nokia's finest glued to your face, although it's something I was a bit surprised to find in something as singlemindedly sporty as the two seater MX-5. The problem is - and it's something I've found with every car cum communication gizmo - is that they just don't work.

The little Mazda, for instance, has a button on the steering wheel you press, at which point a female voice which sounds eerily similar to a BBC newsreader asks you to simply say the number you want to call. You then tell Anna Ford that you'd like to ring the missus, at which point she'll read back a number completely different to the one you've just told her.

“Is this number correct?”

You'll then have to say “No, no, NO” repeatedly until the gadget hears you, a task made trickier still by the whooshing wind noise you'll get if you've got the MX-5's roof down. The whole process repeats itself in an increasingly depressing loop, until Anna tells you, in her kindest BBC Breakfast voice, that you can't call your girlfriend, because she no longer exists.

It was only at this point that I realised I was driving around Crossens on my own while shouting “Yes, yes, yes!” at my car, and that absolutely every other road user could hear me because - being in a convertible on a sunny evening - the roof was down.

At least KITT could tell David Hasselhoff he looked like he a lunatic. Mazda's MX-5 might be brilliant, but it's not intelligent enough to do that just yet.