The Millennial and the MG, Part Two: Perfect Stasis

It’s a sunny Saturday morning and, from behind the wheel of my 1971 MGB Mk II, the storefronts of Detroit’s M-1 Woodward Avenue peel past my periphery.

With my head cocked back and a big grin on my face, I am fully engaged in the buttery smoothness of the roadster’s boisterous four-cylinder, the enthrallingly tight and click-y gearbox shifter, and copious amounts of wind in my hair.

Although I am reveling in my momentary motoring splendor, such moments are few Read More

The smell of gasoline

I don’t think I’ll ever get the smell out of gasoline out of my head.

I don’t mean my mind, as in my thoughts or memories (though it’s been seared into those, too). Rather, I mean my cranium, my skull, my head cavities.

That’s because last weekend I took it upon myself to remove the leaky gas tank on my 1971 MGB Mk II – and I went about it in mostly all the wrong ways.

While it’s a small Read More