!!! MX-5 Miata Of the Month !!!

It was 1989, I was living in Perth, Western Australia. As an 18-yr old, I had landed myself a dream job: I worked as a "General Assistant" for one of the city's large car dealers who did his fair share of sports and other exotic cars.

Three days into my job, my manager asked me how I would feel about having my choice of "drive car". He said that, if I wanted to, I could take home any used car on the lot every single day. All I had to do was pick the car out, move it to the back (so it would not get locked in the yard come closing time) and make sure it had enough gas. HELLO?! What kind of a question was that? Oh, one other thing. I would have to lend him my own car (a red 1980 Toyota Corona wagon). The deal would be good for six months. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him as we shook on it.

After a week of driving two 911's, a 635Csi, and a 560 SEL I realized that my boss's deal was not about cars - it was about convenience. Sure he could take home his car of choice but he couldn't leave his sunglasses in it or his tapes or gym bag - anything. They were not his cars. Even though the gas was free, it was a pain to have to get it all organized before going home (you can't start too soon as a full tank of gas really does something to car buyers and they end up buying the drive car you set aside to take home for the day - Salesmen ended up hiding cars from buyers *duh*).

I now saw his point and, I have to admit, I was hoodwinked fair and square. He would drive to work in my corona with his windsurf strapped to the roof ready to catch the wind at quitting time. His baby capsule was firmly strapped to my rear seat and his kids' strollers were packed into the rear. He had himself a good deal after all.

One difference though - he was a 35-year old family man and I was an 18-yr old fresh grad!

Despite the inconveniences, I loved it! A new car everyday! My choice! I'd take home single-seat three wheelers and 53-seater busses. And absolutely everything in between
The weekends were special though - they were reserved for sports cars.

My whole family was involved in Hotels and Restaurants so our schedules never matched. Evenings and weekends were their busiest times so I was always completely free to take whatever car I wanted and go wherever it took me.

After getting a little used to driving around in awesome cars, I started to take notice of those around me - I would definitely get looks from girls (flattering for sure but after awhile, you know without a shadow of a doubt it's the car their interested in) and save or some fun, they're not quite the types you'd want to take home to mom.

I was also having a few "problems" with some of the convertibles I was bringing home. There were quite a number of cigarette butts turning up in the car and some of them were still lit! (As a drive-car, I needed to bring it back in the same condition I took it home so I had to notice these things). Once, I was climbing back into an E-type Jaguar that I parked in front of a video store and I ended up sitting on (and crushing) two raw eggs that found their way on to my seat. Another car had half a jar of honey smeared onto its leather seats. Hmmm

I decided that if I were to park a convertible, I would put the roof up no matter how long (or short) I was gone for (this was in a city where no doors are locked). I brought a 911 to a liquor store to get some beer for an afternoon BBQ at a friend's house. I put the roof up and when I came back about 3 minutes later it was sporting a fresh knife slash. Although I never saw the perp, I can still hear his laughter.

I started to take more notice of the expressions around me - The word "Hostile" was the one that came to mind the most. I was pulled over constantly by the police and heckled by the "panel van" crowd (the Australian equivalent to the rednecks in pickups). The soft tops were now up all the time and I found myself cursing that Australia did not allow window tint

I mentioned this to a friend who owned a Ferrari. I asked how I managed to avoid cigarette butts being thrown into his car, spray paint and key/coin marks and challenges to fights. He laughed and said "you never park a Ferrari. You drive it in one big, fast loop broken perhaps by a coffee shop on a mountain and then back home to the safety of its garage". This was becoming less and less fun for me.

Before I knew it I was driving home Camry's and Corollas. I just couldn't be bothered with all the fuss surrounding the damn sports cars. I missed my Corona wagon. Then, about 6 months later, I met my very first MX-5 Miata.

This car was different. You could take it anywhere, anytime. It was fun, it was fast and, most importantly for me at the time, it was FRIENDLY. People liked the car. It didn't intimidate anyone. It was ok to see an 18yr old driving one without wanting to rip the little prick's head off. The Miata's drivers weren't mayabang. Miata owners were not insecure. No one had anything to prove. Miata's could be driven happily, parked safely and were as reliable as the moon.

There was never a better ambassador between the road and humankind.

Unfortunately, they never, ever lasted. On the lot, I mean. They sold as fast as we could get them in. I never had one for more than 2 days at a time. I swore I would get myself a Miata one day.

Like my former boss, I am now a 35-year old family man. The baby seat is firmly strapped into the back seat of a Nissan Patrol, the strollers piled into the back of a Starex van and a 1997 turbo-charged Brilliant Black Miata sits in my garage waiting patiently for our weekends of fast fun! I still take notice of the expressions of people as I drive past in my Miata. The word "Happy" comes to mind.

Patrick Deakin