Look at how far we’ve come. We’ve… but wait, have we really?
Sure, we’ve domesticated Botox, sure, 24 out of 195 countries in the world are democracies, and some of us know how TV remote controls actually work, but maybe we’re really lurching backwards. It seems like we’re just as superstitious, tribal and violent as any of the ancient civilisations. Well, my family is anyway.
Progress? Consider breakdowns.
Back in the day you’d be trotting along, miles from home, on old Dobbin, Creamy Sue, Banjo or Kingsbrae Implacable the Third and it throws a shoe. So, you limp to some place where they’ve got a few farrier’s tools and you bodgie up a repair to get you home.
A few years later you’re fanging along at 27 old-school klicks in a 1927 Dodge Brothers when a tyre blows. You wrestle it to a halt, rummage in the tool box for that bit of rubber Granddad put between his teeth to bite down on when they amputated his foot after that tree fell on him that second time.
You light a fire and heat up an old screwdriver and use it to melt the patch onto the tyre. You inflate it using a pump you knocked up from an old harmonium bellows and a length of enema tubing, and Bob’s your uncle.
And on to the Sixties. Anything went wrong with your car you’d nip down to Repco, find whatever was needed, and you’d fix it yourself. Mechanics were only for the rich and famous.
But come the Eighties and it all went downhill. I blame electrons. Cars used to have a few feet of wiring, maybe three colours, and any idiot could sort out an electrical fault through trial, error and 27 blown fuses. Now the wiring in a car comes in 27 rainbows’ worth of colours, running between 32 mini computers. Who wants to tinker with that stuff? Not me, not even a mechanic.
To work on modern vehicles you need a new breed of tradesperson. Trouble is, they haven’t bred up the new breed yet. Would you like to change over the battery in a Tesla at the side of a road? I think not. I suspect that even a dead flat Tesla battery could taser you to juddering death. Even if you survived, I bet you wouldn’t have the proprietary software to re-set the system.
Which brings me to the Nissan Cedric, the overlooked stalwart of the 1960s motoring scene. Strong, compact, and, even though it brimmed with features like a radio and heater, it was simple to repair. I know we can’t go back, back to those simpler times and DIY-friendly machines, but we can at least remember and pay homage.
Look, I know the Nissan Cedric Museum at Bonalbo is taking a long time. The current ructions at Kyogle Council certainly haven’t helped, but basically it all comes down to money. Money and land. Money, land and politics. Money, land, politics and spare time.
But here’s the good news. The Bonalbo CWA have got their CWA rooms back (long story) and they’ve got big plans to make it a real community hub. It got me thinking. Why not turn one of the rooms into a project display for the forthcoming Nissan Cedric Museum?
These pre-project displays have been going on for yonks.
Years before they turned a sod/shovelful of sand on the Great Pyramid they had a booth set up showing plans for the thing. Animal-headed gods wearing hard hats and standing side-on would tell you how many limestone blocks would be needed and how they would be transported on log rollers, barges, lard-lubed skids and alien levitation devices. Job application papyruses would be distributed. FAQs would be answered. Naturally, if you asked where Pharaoh’s treasure chamber was to be located you’d be put to death on the spot, but not much else was out of bounds.
And Snowy Hydro. Down in Cooma, Tumut, Khancoban, wherever, they had a display set up with maps and photos of bare-chested Yugoslav workers wielding jackhammers or piloting bulldozers sporting all the rollover protection of a Pontiac Bonneville convertible. There’d be mache models with real pipes and real running water and little light bulbs and everything.
And that’s the sort of thing I’m proposing we install in the CWA Rooms. There’s a lot of work to be done, but I’m certain of one thing. Nissan Cedric ambassador, Dannielle DeAndrea, will be up for it. She’s touring Australia next month with her latest gal posse, The Songbirds.
They’ve played Tenterfield before and Bonalbo is only a short Nissan Cedric drive down the hill.
I’m onto it. Stay tuned.
A lesson to us all
Bullgoose
and then