This 1959 MGA has been a part of the family for over 30 years. My Dad restored it when I was a boy. We covered untold miles together, shared adventures, and made lasting memories in the car. Ten years later, it carried me and my girlfriend through a heavy summer downpour to our high school graduation ceremony. Seven years after that, it carried us away from the church to our wedding reception. The photo is staged, of course, as the old MG has never had a bit of trouble. Although, it may or may not have had the throttle stick wide open at inconvenient times. It possibly has lost all lighting while driving at night requiring high-speed tailgating of strangers to make it the last few miles home. There may have been an incident where it chucked a knock-off while on the interstate, allowing the jettisoned front wheel to pace the car briefly in the other lane before exiting the road into the woods. The list goes on. These minor hiccups have been resolved over the years and are only worth mentioning because they are what make a legacy. The never ending repairs in the beginning may also prove the old quote of what's the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. How many times must you rebuild a brake master cylinder? The answer is: one more time.
The MGA is special because it was the first and is still going strong. One day my children too will learn to change gears properly, the starting ritual, and the joys of changing a Tecalemit canister oil filter. I look forward to taking them on an easygoing drive through the country side on a cool summer evening with the top down just like I did with my Dad.