Tom Thacker's Journal

I grew up around British sports cars. Dad always liked MGA's, my uncle preferred an MGB. When I was little, they would participate in road rallies and gymkhanas, usually first in their respective classes. Dad also had a TR-3 that he restored from the ground up - when we moved out to the country we lived on a dirt road. Dad didn't want the car to be exposed to dirt roads and gravel chips, so he sold it. One of my earliest memories was sitting on top of the stowed top behind the passenger seat, taking a final turn around the driveway with it.

When the time came, my brother got his first car, a white MG midget. That got traded in for a TR-7. Someone apparently didn't like him too well, and put sugar in the gas tank. Shortly after that (very shortly), I inherited a TR-7 with a warped engine block. Yay, me! The insurance company promptly totaled it. Dad and I then went on a trip to Richmond to look at a couple of cars he had found. One was a 1976 Midget, the other was a silver "69 BGT. The Midget became mine, and the B was (supposedly) for Dad. At the time, we also had three rusty MGA's hanging around - a '59 Coupe, a '59 Roadster, and a '61 Roadster. The roadsters were for parts, and the coupe was his baby.

The midget got me through my senior year of high school, and I used it at college until the water pump blew up all over the windscreen and the engine seized. At this point, I "inherited" the BGT. At one point, I think it was my 2nd year, I had a minor altercation with a Mercedes, and lost. Once the car was rebuilt, Dad and I decided to paint it BRG. Sharp looking car with painted wire wheels, BRG with fender mirrors. The interior was less than stellar, but hey, I figured I'd get there at some point.

Fast forward a couple of years, and the B was now sidelined (bad engine) along with the Midget (halfway rebuilt engine). I had moved to Richmond in '94, and found a rough little '76 Spitfire that I picked up. Loved that car. After I bought it, I was driving down to an auto parts store to pick up a Haynes manual for it. On Chippenham Parkway, the water pump (deja vu!!) blew (but the engine didn't sieze!). I hiked to a payphone and called the parts store and told him I wouldn't be down as I was on the side of the road. He asked me where the car was, and I told him. When I got back to the car, there was a Haynes manual, a new water pump, gasket and shellac, a gallon of anitfreeze and a gallon of water sitting beside it. I raised the hood, got out the toolbox (never travel in a British car without a basic tool kit), and sat down on the tire and replaced the water pump with traffic flying by me at about 55+ mph. Fun time, truly. That car was so easy to work on.

So, now we're up to 1995. I met my future wife, and we decided that the Spitfire was just too small for a family. Sadly, the Spitfire turned into a '91 Celica. In the meantime, Dad had sold the A roadsters, and the coupe shortly after. The BGT was hauled out of storage, and then sold to a mechanic at a sports car specialty shop (Bradleys) in Richmond. Dad hauled the midget around until 2016 or '17, when it finally got disposed of. After about 55 years, we no longer had a British car in the family.

My son decided last year that he HAD to have a car. Thinking I would help, I tried to steer him toward an older British sports car of some sort . My reasoning? I knew them well, awful creatures they are, but I knew how to keep them running. No so much with anything newer. Turned out it was flawed thinking. Anyway, in August of 2017, he purchased a 1978 MGB roadster. I taught him how to drive it, helped him with little things here and there, but he never really took to it. Too quirky. He wanted something maintenance free (not British), easy to work on (not British), and bigger (he's 6'2" so the top of the windscreen goes right across his eye height). He would get so ticked off at the car, fighting with it just to get it started. He'd complain to me and I'd go out and wiggle the wiring harness "just so", and it would start right up. In June 2018, he told my wife and I that he didn't want the car any more, and gave it to me.

And so here we are again, the beginning of another saga with an MG. So far, a new fuel pump, and a turn switch wand; the installation of which promptly killed the turn signals and headlights. It also needs a new top, and the paint is almost gone. I'm trying to bring it back, but the oxidation goes so deep it may be too thin to salvage. There are also numerous aftermarket odds and ends someone put on years ago, wires going nowhere, shorted fuses, and they don't seem to mesh to well with the Lucas Dark Arts. Did I mention i want a new wiring harness?

I will try to post on here as time goes on and repairs are made. Cheers!