Who am I?

My name is James Lindsay (of the clan Lindsay) and I am somewhere in my early thirties (although I have conveniently forgotten exactly where). I grew up and now reside in Vancouver Canada, home of Expo 86, the Vancouver Canucks, "Hollywood North", and the third largest Chinatown in North America (or so they say). I am of Scottish descent and have traced my ancestry back to the year 1120 AD. I do not play the bagpipes so I cannot torture you with any WAV files. Nor do I run around half-naked and painted blue. I've been an apprentice mechanic now for over eight disappointing years (I won't get into that) and am presently exploring other options. I had few pets as a kid, namely because I think our poltergeist (Leroy) never took to them very well. My Sea Monkeys barely survived a year, and my Venus Flytrap starved after only six months. Although there are plenty of lovely mountains within a half-hour's drive of Vancouver, I do not ski, snowboard, toboggan, bobsled, snowshoe, snowmobile, "tube", dogsled, or ride down the side of a mountain in or on anything without a seatbelt. Bumper-skiing is pretty cool, though, especially with all these cool spoilers mounted on today's Jap cars.

A few of you have long wondered what I look like. I've scoured my archives and have managed to find the only electronically stored image of myself in existence. It can be found here. My mom always said I had a nice smile...

My first car was a '72 VW Beetle. I bought it mainly for getting to and from school, but I soon found myself acting as Ministry of Transportation for most of my friends. While attending night school one fall I met up with an old high school friend who drew me a few pictures of what the folks in Southern California were doing with their VWs. Then he showed me a copy of VWTrends and I was hooked. The '72 promptly received a chrome aircleaner and a header, complete with Stinger exhaust (congratulations, it's a boy!). Soon after I attended my first Bug-In at SIR (Seattle International Raceway). I'd say that no pictures of that car still survive but I'd be lying. But I soon got the itch for something a little nicer and the '72 (with all of its hidden rust) just wouldn't cut it.

Soon after, the boyfriend of a cousin of mine (they later got married, by the way) told me that a friend of a friend had a '56 for sale down in Washington State. We all hopped in my dad's Oldsmobile and drove down, only to find out that we didn't have the address of the owner. We stopped by the house of the President of the VW Split Window Club of America (no less), who just happened to have it. It was getting dark soon and we still hadn't seen the car.

Have you ever tried to look at a "black" car in the dark on a moonless night and try to decide (after driving nearly 200 miles) if you want it or not? Two tiny flashlights did little to shed any light on the condition of the '56 <groan>, so we had to assess it by feel. A trip down the following weekend (in the daylight) confirmed what I had assessed the week before... very little rust. It needed three new fenders and a front clip, but the rest of the body was fine.

After filling up on burritos at Taco Bell and towing the car back across the border (gee, I sound like a commercial), the customs officer asked if I had anything to declare. It was dark by now (again) and he couldn't see the car being towed behind. 'This thing must be invisible to the naked eye', I thought to myself so I pointed over my shoulder and simply smiled (if I would have kept the black paint scheme I'm sure I would have nicknamed it "the Stealth"). Alas, my '56 would never actually have a name.

Eight thousand (Canadian) dollars later it was finished, complete with custom interior and 2110cc dual Dellorto power plant. I must point out for the vintage fans out there that nothing was done to the car that could not easily be fixed if I ever wanted to restore it. I tried to show it once at a local Bug Show (as a Daily Driver) but one of the judges said it was too "non-stock" to be placed in anything other than Full Custom. Hah! Needless to say, I came in fourth in a four car class (where I had to compete with $50,000+ budgets). Unfortunately, I tried to build a $14,000 car using only $8,000, and the car never really lived up to my expectations (cut too many corners, I guess). The paint wasn't very good (it was outright BAD in a few places) and the 2 litre never pulled like others I had driven. The recovered stock seats were too soft and the lowered ride was too hard (sound familiar?). To make matters worse, I couldn't store the car in a heated garage to keep it from icing up during the couple of months a year when the night time temperatures occasionally dropped below freezing. I needed something dependable and had just recently began working for a local GM dealership. Then I saw it... a 1990 Sprint Turbo (available in Canada only, I am afraid).