I love cars. I love working on them and I love driving them.

In 1979 I started with good old American muscle: a 1971 Mustang with a custom paint job and a modified engine. Then I switched to good old German know-how and sportiness with a 1968 Karman Ghia. At the same time I became enthralled with the tiny little British Sports cars.

I took my brother Sean to look at a 1969 MG Midget and I fell in love. He bought the MG, a few months later I bought a 1978 Austin Mini. It was puke green it was very cozy. But not cozy enough. I had to make it fast and cool.

The original 60s minis came in two souped-up versions, the Cooper and the Cooper S. I found out about a mechanic in town who raced souped up minis. His name was Noel Montgomery, from Ireland. He was one of the greatest slalom drivers in Canada, tops in his class. 

I spent countless nights and afternoons hanging around Noel's home garage, much to the chagrin of his wife, who wished I could just leave, for even a minute. But Noel wasn't going to tell me to go: he wanted to talk mini as long as he could.

My little puke green Mini, grew mag wheels and it swallowed up a new engine. Soon I was beating camaros and corvettes between the lights in my hometown. Light to light nothing can touch a modified mini.

Many gold chain-wearing bolero dudes were embarrassed in front of their women by my little green shoebox. To keep my baby perkin', I enlisted the help of another mini man. This time even bigger in the mini world. He had raced for British Leyland in the 60s and he was on a first name basis with all the greats, he also had owned his own tuning business. His name Dennis Prophet.

I met Dennis after I purchased an old fiberglass Austin Mini Kit Car from a fellow north of Toronto. The kit looked like a minature Ferrari, I had no idea what it was. I get this phone call from an older gentleman with an English accent, telling me he is the designer of the kit and would I be interested in a trade?

"Of course," I said, he came by that weekend. He was thrilled with the kit and he offered to trade me another kit: an Austin Ranger, minature fiberglass jeep.

I visited Dennis' house, it was surrounded by cars of all types: German, English, French, super cars, little cars, vintage cars. I soon learned that Dennis Prophet was truly the prophet of automobiles. If he couldn't fix something on a car, it could not be done, and as far as I know that has not happened yet. BMW told him their drive shafts could not be rebuilt, so he rebuilt them better than new.  When I would come by with my tale of woe,

“It’s done Dennis, it won’t go.” He’d pop the hood and say, “Let’s get this baby perkin'.”  And he would.

Dennis and his lovely assistant/wife Bev have been together for over 50 years.  They are like two little kids, it is refreshing: he will chide her and she will hit him and walk away angry. A few moments later they will kiss and make up.  Dennis collects books on cars, little cars and he is also a UFO expert.  Bev has remedies for everything, “Did you know how not to smear your sandwich all over the baggie? No? Well, put the back of your hand in the bag first and then pull the sandwich in. She also has likely the largest collection of trolls I have ever seen.

Right, my cars. Well in 1985, I bought a brand new 1985 Black GTI, what a nice machine. I hated to sell that car, but I had no choice. Dennis made me an offer I could not turn down. He told me he was selling one of his NSU RO 80s. A beautiful blue one, a '68 with only 30,000 original miles on it. The RO was the original Wankel engined sedan, it is the most beautiful four door car I have ever seen. It made me drool. I actually drool quite a lot. Mostly on my pillow. It's gross but it means I'm having a good sleep. Nothing beats a drooler.

Other cars I have owned over the years: A 1969 right hand drive type III VW station wagon from Jamaica; an '88 VW Fox Wagon (one of the best cars ever made durabililty wise); and, of course a 1970 VW Van -- it could not keep an engine but what a fun car to drive. It was like having my own city bus -- you sit right up at the windshield over the wheels.

For now, I tool around in my first free car. Yes free. A 1990 Pontiac Grand Am with a noisy sewing machine for an engine and a rusty door, that looks like a shot gun blast hit it. My buddy Len says it looks like the stunt car from the Polish Bonnie and Clyde.

Yes it does, but it was free. My favorite price. I love free things. 

Last fall a nasty neighbour on his way to church on a Sunday morning somehow did a U turn into my wonderful Grand Am and wrote it off. The nice thing is he didn't have insurance, and he did not apologize. The bad thing, I quickly bought , yes bought. That is where I made my mistake. I paid $300.00 for a 1983 Chevy Celebrity that a little old lady drove. It looked mint. The engine blew up in under a week and I'm now back to driving a free car. A 1989 Olds Ciera Wagon, it is starting to smell funny under the hood, so I may soon be moving on to something else. I love the adventure of the World of Free cars.