Mystery Car.

Yesterday I had a “name that car” post entitled “Hard, Easy, Easy”… which I ascribed the relative difficulty of identifying the machines. This one was the “hard”. Yeah sorry about the fuzzy photos, but hey, the only OTHER photo I have of it clearly has a badge on it that identifies the marque, so where’s the challenge in that? So here you go.

We know that it is British, and it is NOT an Aston-Martin or an MG.

What is it?

A Sunday Drive.

Sorry about the fuzzy phone-cam shot… like an idiot I left my “real” camera in the barn when we drove out!)

My friend Dan O’Donnell is in town this week on business. I’ve “known” Dan for a dozen years… since 1995. To but a more dramatic scale on it, since he was 38 and I was 31! Oddly enough, though the bizarre nature of “Internet Friendship” we never met face to face until just a few years ago. Funny how that works. We do have a lot in common and know a lot about each other as a result. I almost bought a vintage car from him in the late 90s (a 911sc targa), and later, when he was trapped in a job-from-hell scenario, I made an introduction (I think we’re supposed to call that “social networking” now) that resulted in Dan landing a dream job. I love it when that happens. Since that day, he’s promised me a dinner as a “thank you” for that intro, and he finally settled that debt this weekend.

Dan celebrated his 50th birthday this past Saturday and I was privileged to have him spend it with me & Sue, at our favorite local restaurant in Arlington. It was an odd accident of schedule that our long-delayed dinner fell on his birthday, so it was odd to have him buying dinner. In exchange I gladly nabbed a wonderful Pinot Noir from the Captain’s List. I know Sue thoroughly enjoyed the conversation, so a fine time was had by all.

The weather I’m sure was a shock to his Southern California system, as he arrived at Sea-Tac on some pre-dawn flight from LAX into drizzle and low clouds… topped off by the melting remains of an eight inch snowfall up at our house up in the Cascade foothills. In preparation I had a fire going in the fireplace and despite what I recognized as a rapid warming trend (the snow disappeared in a matter of hours), he was obviously appreciative of the extra warmth afforded by the fire. In fact, when it died off he sheepishly asked if I’d stoke it up. We enjoyed an afternoon of just chatting. Dan’s had a rough time of late as his father recently passed away, quite suddenly. We talked a lot about fathers, sons, and family relationships… and he had the opportunity to witness it all as I fielded calls from both my father and Christopher, who made an unexpected call from Chile Saturday afternoon.

When we returned from dinner, the stars were out and I made a bold prediction that we’d have a sunny Sunday. Sunny enough to take the E-type out for a drive. Well, I was wrong and we awoke to high overcast. Undaunted, we took the Jag out anyway. The roads were dry, but it was quite … “brisk.” I drove the car east on SR 530 to the location of the famous “Miss January” photo, where we got out of the car and admired Whitehorse Mountain. I invited Dan to take the left seat for the trip home and from that moment on, he just had this goofy grin on his face.

Like all genuine “car guys” he treated the machine with respect and tenderness, but could not resist the temptation to play with the loud pedal now and then. Doing that just made him grin even more. I got the distinct impression that he enjoyed it. I enjoyed it too.