I really don’t remember a call for submitting funny Miata stories with a prize reward back in 1998. There are two options here: 1) I totally missed the call for funny Miata stories or 2) I did submit some, but like a lot of my stories (Exhibits 1 – 2 – or 3) they were too long for consideration.
Your Best Stories
MM staff picks the funniest tales from ten years of Miata motoring.
The original idea came from Mazdaspeed, the factory-backed tuning company that’s been working hard all year to raise its profile in America. “Since Miatas are all about fun,” they said, “let’s get your readers to tell us their funniest stories. We’ll supply the prizes if you’ll run the contest.”
Done deal: Issue 98-IV laid down the challenge, and a flurry of envelopes and e-mail poured in during the following months. We picked our favorites by pure caprice and whimsy, doling out whichever prizes seemed appropriate. Read on for the results.
Hope Springs Eternal
Wearing a youthful pair of Nikon driving glasses around East Northport NY might make Peter Dyke feel better after this run-in:
I was attending a local park festival — you know; kids, strollers, food stands, a band about to play in the gazebo—nice home-towny stuff. I had just parked my red ’90 Miata and strolled into the park past two police officers when circumstances put me within earshot of them. I heard the following conversation:
Officer 1: (looking at my Miata): “When they first came out, I thought we had another automatic speeding ticket machine, like them Porsches.”
Officer 2: “Yeah, me too. Sure didn’t work out that way, huh?”
Officer 1: “Nope. Seems like only two kindsa’ people drive these things: Good-looking girls, and old guys like him wishing they could still have girls like that.”
I left the park feeling far older than when I entered….
Making P’nut Better
Gertrude Palm Girr, of Kalamazoo MI, earned her dog P’nut a Mazdaspeed necktie — you’ll know where it goes in a minute — with this one:
It all began logically enough…. My dog P’nut had an ear infection. The vet, who also has a convertible, suggested ear protection and eye protection for safety.
I came up with child’s safety goggles, an old hat, and a bandanna to keep it all together. I didn’t realize how funny my “safety gear” was until I nearly caused an accident. A passing motorcyclist saw P’nut and laughed so hard he had to pull over.
P’nut still thinks he’s a cool dude.
You Must Be Kidding
Tom Idziak apparently needs some grownup clothes: A Mazdaspeed necktie goes out to the Concord CA sports-car enthusiast:
One evening in January 1997 I was parking my 1990 Mariner Blue B-Package in front of the Behring Auto Museum at Blackhawk (Danville) California. The museum was hosting a lecture/demonstration on the restoration of the Pegaso Le Mans racer.
Pulling into the parking lot was the first Mercedes SLK that I’d seen. It was German Racing Silver and was driven by a distinguished-looking gentleman. I hung back, allowed him to catch up, and we talked about the various merits of sports cars (Miatas and SLKs included) as we ascended the steps to the museum.
I was lamenting the fact that the Miata no longer had the two-seat roadster field to itself with Mercedes’ SLK and Porsche’s Boxster coming to market. He said not to worry, because “Old guys like me buy the SLK, Porsche guys buy the Boxster, and young kids like you buy the Miata!”
Well, it’s been about 30-40 years since I was called a “kid,” but who was I to argue with his reasoning? To all my fellow Miata “kids” out there, I think we made the right choice!
Patty Soaks her Head
Hagerstown MD’s Patty Eckels can wear a dry new Rotary Power T-shirt before trying this one again:
I was out doing errands on a beautiful summer day when I passed a car wash, so I thought I’d run in and wash the dust off my baby. I went in, put my money in the slot, put the dial on “wash/soap,” and started to wash her when I felt a fine mist of water on my face and arms. The wind wasn’t blowing — where was it coming from?
I looked up, and about that time all h*** broke loose. The hose broke, and water came rushing out—right into my Miata! I flew over to the driver’s side, got in, and got her out of there. Now, you know what that meant: By now I was soaking wet, and let me tell you, I look like a drowned rat when I’m wet.
I slowly got out of the car, went into the manager’s office, and he just looked at me. He said, “Got a problem?” I explained what had happened, and all he said was “Gee. Guess I’ll have to get that fixed — again!”
Fully Loaded
From now on, Walnut Creek CA’s Paula Blais can wear a Mazda T-shirt to remind her how she got to the store.
My late husband and I had just purchased our Miata when we took it shopping at Costco and Home Depot.
While we were in line to pay for our groceries, my late husband asked me if I knew what car we had brought shopping. I said “yes.” (Who could forget a ride in a topless Miata?) He repeated the question: “Are you sure you realize what car we brought?” Again I said, “Yes, what’s the problem?” He replied, “Think what car we brought.”
Oh my gosh! We had all the groceries that Costco is famous for: an abundance of paper, cases of water, etc.
We were trying to decide if we’d have to go back home and get the truck, but before we did we tried to see if it would really be necessary. We attracted a lot of attention as my husband maneuvered the feat.
No problem: Everyone was surprised, including ourselves. The only trouble was a kitchen sink that we’d just bought at Home Depot—it was necessary for me to carry it on my lap.
When we came to a stoplight on the way home, a truckdriver next to us leaned out his window and said “Now I’ve seen everything—including the kitchen sink!”
Chilling Tale
What could be more appropriate for S. Neal Crozier of Tempe AZ than a heavy-weight racing jacket?
In 1991, after having lived in Alaska for eight years, I moved to the “Valley of the Sun”—Phoenix, Arizona. Shortly thereafter I purchased my Miata. I then made two resolutions: I’d swim in my pool until the water temperature went below 60 degrees, and my Miata’s top would stay down.
Each morning on the way to the office I would pick up my fellow worker at his house. Come December it gets downright chilly at six a.m., but my resolution stood the test of time and weather.
As the days became colder, my passenger slunk lower and lower in the seat until he was almost under the dashboard. “Are you okay, or should I put the top up?” I inquired one very nippy morning.
“I-I-I’m just f-f-fine,” he responded between chattering teeth.
The next day he inquired if I still had my Alaskan winter clothes, because he and his wife were planning a trip to northern Arizona that weekend. I did, and I dropped off a full set of winter coverage that night.
Lo and behold, the next morning he approached my Miata in full Alaskan outdoor garb—wool cap with earmuffs, huge gloves, and my heaviest fur coat. “Drive on,” he said. “I’m ready for the elements now.”
That evening I put the top up — until February.
Don’t Call the Firemen
Sounds like Internetter Jamie Firth needs a Mazdaspeed horn button to ward off another potential accident; next time, of course, he’ll have to be in the car when it happens.
Last night while I was watching Frasier my Miata was involved in a wreck. You might ask how that can be, since I was watching TV at the time. Well, one of the local volunteer firemen let a young friend drive his Honda scooter in the church parking lot across the street, that’s how.
Sounds safe enough, right?
Unfortunately, the kid forgot how to drive. He gunned the throttle and couldn’t figure out how to stop or turn. This propelled him through the parking lot, across the street, and up an embankment. Once he was in my yard he hit the foundation of an old garage, which shot the scooter into the air.
The fireman at this point thought they might go over my car. This, however, was not to be. The scooter nosedived into the front fender, and the driver and passenger landed on the hood. By the time I got to the back door to see what the noise was, they were sitting in my yard with the scooter laying nearby. At first I didn’t realize what had happened. The fireman asked me to call the fire station, and I got the phone and took it to him.
At this point I realized that the loud thump I’d heard was them hitting my car. Soon three police cars, an ambulance, and couple more volunteer firemen arrived and it became a full-blown three-ring circus.
I was just thinking why me?
Aural Fixation
Internet citizen Enrico Massagli should be able to get in even more trouble once his Miata is festooned with a free batch of Mazdaspeed racing decals:
Think about it: You add an aftermarket exhaust system to your Miata and the last thing that enters your mind is “Is it legal?” (As in, “Is it loud enough to warrant the curiosity of the local state trooper, or is it just giving the car a little character?”)
As my wife Louise and I were headed east on I-80 through Fairfield CA, I made eye contact with a parked California Highway Patrolman and soon found him tight in my “six-o’clock” position. My life passed across my mind—as well as the fact that I didn’t have a front license plate or a stock muffler.
We exited into the left turn lane at the factory outlets and, sure enough, my newfound “friend” remained directly behind me. With my top down I heard the distinct click of the public-address system mounted on his front bumper (about five feet behind my head) and was nearly made permanently deaf with the announcement, “Your car sounds great!”
Trying my best not to soil myself, I gave the nice officer a big grin and a thumbs-up as he pulled a U-turn and reentered the highway. I wondered aloud to Louise what motive could have brought him to follow me off the freeway and scare the living daylights out of me like that?
Her answer was simple and to the point: “Don’t you know envy when you
hear it?”
Elementary, My Dear Mabry
Rallymasters always need more time-keeping gadgets, so Alan Mabry of Douglasville GA will be timing his next event with a steering wheel-mounted Mazdaspeed Time Trap stopwatch:
Early in our club’s existence we held a rally. This was not the ordinary type of timed-distance event, but one where you had clues to figure out. The winner was the one closest in actual mileage.
The clues were not ordinary; you had to watch for landmarks and know terms like “port” and “starboard.” There were clues such as “Turn away from the sun after you pass a stream on the passenger’s side.”
As the event coordinator I tried to find things that would test the owner’s knowledge. I figured Miata owners should know as much about their cars as any normal car buff and, for the most part, they figured out things like “Go as many miles as you have sparkplugs.” It was one of the simpler ones that actually threw them for a loop.
It was during one of my jumps from one checkpoint to another that I saw the funniest thing. As I turned a corner, I spotted four of our cars pulled over to the side of the road. Two had their hoods up and two had their trunks open. My first thought was that someone had broken down, but when I slowed as I neared the first two, I heard one say, “This thing doesn’t have a battery!” I drove a little farther to the second group and heard a driver say, “I think it’s in the trunk here!”
I started laughing, realizing that the clue for the next turn was “Turn in the direction your battery is on!”
Charge!
Since Peter Blowitz is apparently a fan of bump-starting, the Somis CA resident can watch the pros do it from now on with a brand-new pit-credential case.
Here’s a story that probably has been duplicated quite a few times. After I had my 1990 Miata about four or five years, the battery was prone to not start the car. I was careful to always park on an incline so I could roll it and pop the clutch, as I wasn’t up to paying for a $200 battery.
Well, my girlfriend borrowed the car one day not knowing about the battery problem. Of course, it wouldn’t start for her, and she called AAA. I got a call at my office, during which she exclaimed, “Your car wouldn’t start and I called the auto club, and…. Well, someone stole your battery!”
Obviously, they didn’t think to look in the trunk. (Needless to say, she also thought I should get a new battery.)
Wash and Dry
A pair of new T-shirts go out to Shawn and Kay Hesketh; the Houston TX couple might want to carry these under their Miata’s seats just in case:
I’m one of those Miata owners who prefers to hand-wash my own car at home. I know better than to trust my car’s delicate paint to those harsh brushes. But once my wife and I drove past one of those “touchless” car washes and I said to her, “Let’s run the Miata through the car wash. How much could it hurt? After all, it doesn’t even touch the car, right?”
Once inside, the powerful jets of water easily separated the rubber seal from the driver’s-side window, shooting me square in the face and on the side of the head! I began frantically looking around for anything to block that gap. A piece of black felt that I used to protect the window was all that was available. I quickly snatched it and handed it to my wife, who had just seconds to put it in place and protect herself.
Cycle after cycle, we took turns passing the dripping rag while we watched a mini-waterfall cascading through the zipper at the top of the rear window. After what seemed an eternity, we found ourselves laughing hysterically at the adventure we’d created. Finally, the dryers roared to life.
I’m sure the man in the car behind us still enjoys telling the story, but my car has never been so clean…inside and out! Anyway, the next time you drive by a “touchless” car wash, just smile and keep driving…
The Demonstrator Model
Peter McInnis is Assistant New Car Manager at Eddie Accardi Motors, a dealership in Pompano Beach FL. Who better to sport a heavy, die-cast keyring model of Mazda’s rotary engine?
Let me start off by telling you that I sell Mazdas for a living. Once I had a young lady come in to lease a new Miata, and when we went out on a test run, I drove first to show her what the car could do. Then I proceeded to pull over for her turn at the wheel.
She was a blonde about 5’4”, with everything going for her. She was wearing a very pretty sundress with spaghetti straps and not much more. She got in and we took off.
Pretty soon she was really getting into it—so much so that when she threw the car into third gear, one strap of her dress ripped to bare all! She let off on the throttle, pulled her dress back up, and calmly said, “I bet this doesn’t happen every day.”
Needless to say, I was a little shaken up. She just giggled.
The Land of the Blind
Denton TX’s Kathleen Longbridge can keep better track of her dates with a new Mazdaspeed Sports Watch.
I’d finally worked up the nerve to ask my very handsome neighbor on a date. He agreed, and we decided to go to a local flea market the following Sunday. I picked him up on a bright and sunny morning in my top-down red 1991 A-Package.
We had a lot of fun and enjoyed spending the day together. I even told him about some of the more disastrous dates I’d had lately — especially the one where a guy disappeared in the middle of lunch, never to return!
Toward the end of the day my new friend wanted to see one booth and I wanted to return to another, so we agreed to meet back at my car in 15 minutes. I got there first, got in, put the key in the ignition, and waited. And waited. And waited.
Twenty minutes went by, then 30. After 45 minutes I was really steaming, so I lit a cigarette to calm down. I wound up dropping it in my lap and nearly setting my pants on fire. I leapt out of the car and started wildly slapping at my crotch, getting more angry every second. After that I decided I’d been had again, and furiously cranked the key in the ignition to take off. Naturally, I turned it so hard that it bent and nearly broke. Now I was stood up, stuck in a parking lot, smoking inside and out, and pretty much ready to spit nails.
Right then my “date” passed by. I started chewing him out royally, really letting him have it and letting him know what I thought about being stood up, particularly after the story I’d told him. “But we agreed to meet back at your car 45 minutes ago…” he started saying.
“I know that! So, where the %$#*& were you?!”
“Well, for the last 45 minutes I’ve been waiting in your car. What I can’t figure out is, why have you been sitting here in someone else’s?”
I looked down, and all of a sudden it hit me: My red A-Package didn’t have a CD player…!
Copyright 1998, Miata Magazine. Reprinted without permission.
