Remembering The MGB

Thoughts over here.

I never owned a B, because I learned my lesson from my first car, an MGA — don’t buy a convertible.

There are people with hair who can manage convertibles, but I am not one of them. My hair looks bad enough without going through a seventy MPH uncontrolled blower. Or even slower, for that matter.

So I bought a 1967 (pre-emissions, pre-uglybumpers) MGB-GT. It got me through high school. I gave girls rides home in it. It was my preferred car for dates over my dad’s company-car GM behemoths. I loved it in many ways.

But it never got me laid. Sometimes, a car just isn’t enough.

6 thoughts on “Remembering The MGB”

  1. My dad had an Autumn Gold MGB, his mid-life crisis mobile. I used to love to drive it, and it was indeed a chick magnet. The deep, throaty thrum of its little four-banger and the whine of the British Leyland reverse gear noise will stay with me forever…

  2. English folk-rock icon Richard Thompson recorded a great ode to his MGB-GT, titled, unsurprisingly, MGB-GT. Check it out…

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