A luxurious roll through time
I am now reading repetitive stories about Rolls-Royce “on a roll”.
Okay, but when the family’s cutlery came largely from the Automat, I actually reported my excitement from day one of having a rolls royce. By the 10th, in the Coney Island Times, which was all I could write at the time, I reported the total experience.
The car my husband bought? He promptly lay dead. A hiss, a cough, and straight to Rolls-Royce heaven. Second best day? He pulled up on a six lane highway and Fords, Chevrolets, Volkswagens whizzed by yelling “Get a horse.”
Our salesman, so British that next to him King Charles sounds southern, said, “Just a minor adjustment, Moddom.” A minor adjustment a month later my husband was back on. With the ignition off, no one around and the rear windows moved by themselves. Both directional signals worked simultaneously. And the light from the makeup mirror on the rear right side illuminated the mahogany desk on the left side.
Also, the air conditioning in January blew out of the heating unit. “Minor adjustment, Moddom,” oozed its vendor, whose headquarters probably still has my Coney Island Times review tucked away somewhere in its vault.
The car had 99 problems, I was not one
On a country road, late at night, with no other cars around, this Silver Shadow triumph got up to 5 mpg. In the city traffic it dropped a bit. “You don’t buy a Rolls for economy,” hummed the salesman looking at us as if to say, “If the pound hadn’t devalued, we wouldn’t even be doing business with people like you.”
At noon, at 57th and Madison, this dreamy white car, license plate JA4, had a crowd around it. Photos were taken. The hood was up. Smoke was coming out of the engine. I got on the first thing that moved, a bus that was going to the upper part, and I was heading downtown.
Next, a brake lining problem and an overheat situation. Also the radio stopped, the rear license plate bracket fell off, the trunk locked and the car stopped dead. IN TRAFFIC. But so chic that even when he couldn’t move, the owners proudly went out leaning on him to call a taxi.
They say the only thing that makes noise in a Rolls is the clock. Yes. Unless you count the owner crying.
We hadn’t realized ours had possibly been an early Silver Shadow design and maybe even a used store model. Whatever. Truth be told, the thrill of owning even an asthmatic roll is hard to die for.
A HIGHLIGHT of Judge Judy’s scathing UK press blast in case you missed it:
“prince harry writes William “regressed” by Meghan’s first hug. Biting the hand that he fed him, he is a selfish, spoiled, ungrateful and insincere grandson. He would be furious and hurt if my son or grandson did the same to me.”
Divorced Me-Me-Meghan left her father, grounded her former best friend, fought with everyone else, only sought to make money and become famous, and will eventually waste bodily fluids on Prince Empty as her entire birthplace has.
His name is everywhere but on the toilet paper. So . . come on . . just . . Wait.
Meghan’s piggy bank will soon learn that money can’t buy happiness. What she gets is a wealthier class of estranged relatives.
UK only, kids, UK only.
Leave a Comment