In order that I don't sound like a total arsehole, I should make it clear that I don't mind talking to people when I'm out and about in an unusual car or on a bike (non-motorcyclists reading this won't be aware that bike people always want to talk bikes whether the machine is unusual or not).
But it's nice to be enter a conversation on your terms. I've driven lots of new and unusual cars over the years, and I've talked to a lot of people in petrol stations. I'm pretty confident got this down now - it's always a pleasure dealing with kids, it's often a pleasure dealing with other car enthusiasts, it's tedious dealing with people who start with 'what it's worth', or how their mate's has a Bentley (every bloke in a tracksuit has a mate with a Bentley, for some reason).
Back when I had my 72T, I was driving through south London and had stopped at a shitty petrol station in Camberwell. Feeling massively out of place, I noticed I was being approached from across the forecourt by a really gnarly-looking rasta guy. f*** please no, not now. Don't look, don't look. But I was stuck mid-flow, so to speak. As this scary motherfucker got to the car, he looked down along the side and said 'oh my, a 72. I had a Viper Green 72'. I instantly felt total shame for pre-judging this dude, and for forgetting that there was a time when these cool old cars could be owned by anyone that had the passion for them, not just old, rich white guys. The dude was awesome, and we talked old Porsche stuff for a bit, two people who may as well have been from different planets, united in One Porsche Love, Marley-style.
So yes, it pays to be open-minded. But sometimes you just have somewhere you need to get to, and no time to talk about someone else's mates Bentley.
Whilst I'm on this subject, the funniest encounter I ever had was whilst shooting a Lotus-engined Anglia in the New Forest. We stopped at another fuel station and this ancient lady comes walking (slowly) over towards the car.
Doris: "What a lovely car!"
Me: "Thank you. It's not mine (standard response). The owner is in the shop"
Doris: "Oh lovely. I used to have one of these"
(Like Bentley-friend to tracksuit-man, everone of a certain age used to have an Anglia. My dad used to have an Anglia. His dad probably had one, and all his friends probably had them too. Because Anglias were given away free with rolls of chicken wire, and in tubs of Isopon P38).
Me: Not doing a great job at thinking of a reply... "That's nice, they are great cars"
Doris: "Yes. It was identical to this, except it was blue, and it was a Vauxhall".
Back to business. After getting home from work last night, I decided it would be wise to get the shell off the rotisserie and onto the wheeled dolly so I could check the paint outside in daylight. A friend gave me a hand with it.
A few days ago I wasn't feeling very positive about my choice of finish. It looked a bit wishy-washy and the paint was taking so long to dry that every speck of shite in my severely dusty garage (I've been blasting panels and sanding filler in here since December) had found a home on the car.
Getting it outside was a different story. Amazing. The paint was lighter than I wanted, but the effect was exactly what I had in mind, only better. The light
rolled over every curve, but the lightness of the metallic finish made it look almost ghostly. A ghost Porsche.
Das Porsche Geisterfahrzeug, or something.
I really love the gaps, and how smooth the side of the car looks. Am happy with this job...
Ignoring the dirty great run on the corner, I like the way the light rolls along the rear arch:
And here, on the front wing:
My friend then noticed that I had scratched the paint. I didn't realise I had even touched it. So I rubbed it with my fingernail and it turned out I had created not really a Ghost Porsche, but more a...
What's particularly annoying here is that the rear panel I test-painted with the same stuff is almost completely un-scratchable. I'm not sure what had happened, but I was miffed-off enough that I just rolled that son of a bitch back into the garage and cleaned it down with a fistful of 120 grit.
Then I mixed-up some new Upol high-build surfacer and re-coated the car.
Unfortunately, in my haste to regain progress, I mixed double the amount of hardener required, and so the paint dried with a slight rubbery feel. The solution here is to sand it off, but being rubbery, it's just very difficult to sand. God F****** dammit.
After four months, I'm really bored with this now. I don't mind the work, but I don't really have the time for it. Instead I make fake time by working into the small hours of the morning and waking up the next day feeling knackered. And the car is still in primer. Rubbery, over-hardened primer, several weeks behind where it was two days ago.
On the upside, Plasti Dip appears to be available in a finish which is a close match:
https://youtu.be/ZxU3tchXKgA
It'll be non-permanent, but at least it'll help me get the car a step closer to being on the road, and open up even more opportunity to overthink colour choices.
