This article first appeared in Mazda MX5 Magazine.
Last year someone or something had really upset God. Maybe he’d heard that Australian criminals were being glorified in yet another Underbelly series, or seen some of the acts on Australia’s Got Talent, who knows, but this time he wasn’t joking.
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| thanks to mcdett |
Striding towards the automatic ball machine on his oversized tennis court, he replaced the tennis balls with what looked like golf balls, turned the machine towards Perth Western Australia and let rip.
Meanwhile, having spent the past five days held hostage by my computer, it was time to unbuckle my body at the gym. Taking a much needed break from the stomach crunch machine, I noticed a pack forming at the window.
One by one six Arnold Schwarzenegger types moved towards the window as fast as their tree trunk legs allowed. Which, mindful that too much thigh on thigh action could potentially start a fire, wasn’t very fast.
As the sky turned black and the thunder kicked in the press of Arnolds (well what is the collective noun for body builders; a weight, a knobble, a snatch or clean and jerk perhaps?), and one very brave Peewee Herman type, pressed their noses against the window. Some were cooing, others laughing and a few even shedding a tear.
Curiosity outweighed trepidation as I edged over and slipped unnoticed under the collection of size 22 biceps. It was then that I saw it.
Massive hail stones pelting down on the shiny black 4WDs and burnt orange Utes in the gym car park. Their bonnets and boots pitted with craters worse than those seen on even the most hormone riddled, pimply faced teenager. After some initial entertainment and amazement, reality kicked in.
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© The Ponder Room
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‘Cooper!’ I cried out loud causing the Arnolds to glare at the Peewee Herman type who furiously shook his head in denial, as I sprinted down the stairs.
Cooper, my beloved MX5, less than four months in my care, was out there amongst God’s fury, and with only a canvas top for protection. In my mind I could see the roof being ripped to shreds reminiscent of those multi-coloured fly catching strips of plastic, seen blowing in the doorways of all good 1970 delis. Once out the front door of the gym I gingerly made my way across the ice rink car park. Amazed at my bravery a second press of Arnolds, who were cowering in the gym doorway, cheered me on, ‘take care’, ‘drive slowly’, ‘be careful’.
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© The Ponder Room
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Making it inside the car, accompanied by three large hailstones, I started the engine, edged backwards and turned on the windscreen wipers. Having reluctantly entered into a game of table tennis with God, there was no going back. My windscreen wipers thrusting and parrying like red rubber bats.
Thankfully most of my journey was accomplished by weaving through the local shopping centre car park. Limping along at 5kms, God seemed to appreciate having a moving target. From inside the car it felt like he’d picked up a baseball bat and was using Cooper’s side panels for hitting practice.
Limping around the corner, home was in sight. Thankfully I hadn’t come across another car on my trip, but then what idiot would attempt such a journey, the skipper of the SS Minnow was the only person that came to mind, as I aquaplaned through another puddle.
There it was the garage door, refuge.
Pressing the automatic opener I prayed that the door would take pity on me and not pull one of its ‘we’re not opening until you meet our demands’ stunts that it had been performing with increasing regularity.
‘Please go up, please go up, please go up’, I pleaded and to my amazement it did, letting the pool of water it was holding back rush into the back room of my house. I’d worry about that later, first I had to tend to Cooper’s wounds.
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© The Ponder Room
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Right side panel, fine.
Left side panel, fine.
Bonnet, not a scratch.
Boot, nothing.
The canvas roof? I was almost too scared to look.
I can only think that the roof must have acted like a mini trampoline and bounced the hail stones off, as unbelievably it was in one piece. Not a rip, tear or even a mark. How was that possible, when the sturdy 4WDs in the gym car park had all taken such a hit?
So it would appear Game, Set and Match to Cooper….. this time.
