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.

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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….

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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.

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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!

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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!”

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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!”

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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.

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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?

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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?”

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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!”

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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.)

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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…

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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.

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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…!

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This article prompted me to buy what is arguably my favorite Miata modification, a shift knob. It made its first appearance in Miata number two, our ’95 Laguna Blue, and was the very first modification to Miata #3 the ’03 Garnet Red. When our second Miata was traded in for the third I actually went back out into the dealer’s lot and swapped the new car’s stock knob for the Voodoo knob. It was also modification #1 in the fourth Miata, the recently departed ’02 CTBNL.

On The Market

Product Reviews

FLYIN’ MIATA DUAL EXHAUST

Some modifications are made for aesthetics, while others bring a performance improvement. Once in a while a product even does both — such as the Flyin’ Miata Dual Exhaust.

It’s hard to ignore the visual appeal of twin 89mm tips sticking out from the Miata’s rear bumper. They’re not too big — no need to worry about gophers moving in — but it’s a clear statement nonetheless.

Of course, they can’t be seen from the driver’s seat, so do you know they’re there? Indeed: A mellow, throaty exhaust note comes with this system — not painfully loud, but definitely with presence. There’s no tinny overtones and no annoying resonance at cruise—the proof of a well designed system.

As to a performance increase, we have no hard numbers for this kit but the seat-of-the-pants impression is one of better power, especially at the top end. As with most after-market exhausts, the engine just feels more free; whether that’s an aural illusion or not, the fun factor’s undeniable.

Produced by Stromung for The Dealer Alternative, this system is stainless steel from the cat to the exhaust tips. An oversized pipe leads from the cat into a single muffler, from which sprouts two exhaust tips. A new hanger is included to bolt the new piping onto an existing mount below the bumper. The design weighs a few pounds more than a single-tip system but is still lighter than stock.

Of course, you have to be dedicated to the twin-pipe idea. Using a stick-on template provided with the kit, you must cut the left side second opening into your lovingly maintained bumper. It takes a lot of nerve, but is easier than it looks—a sharp knife will do it, and it’s easy to get it right the first time.

Conclusion
An aesthetically and aurally pleasing alternative to the usual single-tip system.The Flyin’ Miata Dual Exhaust isn’t exactly cheap, but there’s nothing else like it. – Keith Tanner

Price:
$580

Source
The Dealer Alternative
1-800-FLY-MX5S
[www.dlralt.com]

Shopping Around
We currently know of no similar products.

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VOODOO KNOB

“It feels incredible in the palm of your hand!”
          “It should have been a factory design.”
    “It’s the best shift knob made for the Miata!”

Such are the type of comments that commonly appear on the Miata Listserv.

Okay, so maybe there’s a little hyperbole surrounding the nearly legendary Team Voodoo shift knob, but the reality is, fans of Voodoo Bob Krueger’s effort are rabid enthusiasts.

Why the rave reviews? Well, for starters, the Voodoo knob is the end result of an online discussion several years ago which debated the merits of different types of shift knobs. The “ideal” knob was actually designed by about 10 people in Compuserve’s Automobile Forum, and then Bob rose to the occasion and turned the concept into reality.

The result is an aluminum-billet knob with a round head similar to the type used by Ferrari. The height is much lower than the factory knob, which makes the overall shift throw shorter than the already minuscule stock throw. The spherical head also eliminates the hard edges of the factory plastic or Nardi wood knobs.

Bob has recently continued the concept by coming out with two black-powdercoated versions to appeal to owners who wish to keep the all-black interior intact. The textured model, in particular, has a finish that looks like it came from the factory.

There’s one minor idiosyncrasy with the Voodoo knob. Since it’s made of solid aluminum, it has very high thermal conductivity. Translation: It gets pretty toasty after the car has been running a while, and can be pretty cold on chilly winter mornings. My solution is simple: a pair of driving gloves.

Conclusion
A brilliant, bargain-priced solution to the various factory shift knobs’ shortcomings. — Gary Fischman

Price
$30 polished/$26 coated

Source
-Team Voodoo
[www.teamvoodoo.com]
-Crazy Red Italian
[www. red fire .com/crazyred]
-Most Miata aftermarketers

Shopping Around
Sola knobs, $30-40.
R-Speed, (888 551 0025)
Nardi replacement knob, $52.80.
Roebuck Mazda, (800 240 2121)

 

Member Spotlight

Barbara Feinman talks to NASA’s orbiting Miataphile Mary Ellen Weber.

Mulling over how I’d describe Miata-driving astronaut Mary Ellen Weber, only one adjective comes to mind: down-to-earth. And you’ll have to forgive the pun, because that truly is the impression I was left with after our very pleasant conversation.

An honest-to-goodness Shuttle veteran with a 1995 mission good for 142 orbits to her credit, Mary Ellen now works for NASA and lives in Houston, Texas. In her spare time she skydives, scuba dives, and enjoys her MX5, which she’s owned since 1990. Revealingly, even after experiencing some considerably more powerful modes of transportation, Mary Ellen is still as enchanted with her red 1990 as any of us. “I love driving my Miata,” she says proudly, adding “It’s never in the shop.”

I have to admit it: At first I was a little nervous to be talking with a genuine, been-in-space astronaut. I’ve interviewed everyone from movie stars to senators in my line of work, but never anyone who’s orbited the Earth.

Almost immediately, Mary Ellen put me at ease. She was even gracious enough to act like my dumb questions weren’t all that dumb. “Is there any similarity between driving a Miata and traveling in a rocket?” I asked.

She explained that the experience of space travel is, well, different, but that “…we also fly T38 jets as a part of our training, and that does give you the same sensations. You sort of ‘fit’ into the Miata, (and) you’re surrounded the same way in a cockpit.”

Interestingly enough, neither NASA nor the Miata were goals that she’d planned on. Back in graduate school at UC Berkeley (where she earned a PhD in physical chemistry), Mary Ellen used to drive a Plymouth Horizon. But when the Miata started appearing on the road, there was no shopping around—she knew it was the car for her. Mary Ellen chose a red one, and after three or four years had it painted emerald green. (She jokes now that she’s gotten a little bitter—her custom-chosen paint is now offered from the factory, making her longtime ride a little less unusual.)

Unlike a lot of NASA’s spacefarers, Mary Ellen didn’t always dream of becoming an astronaut. But, she believes, that’s mostly because it had simply never occurred to her as an option.

“When I was a little girl I never even considered it,” she confessed. “I didn’t even think it was a possibility. It wasn’t until college—when I got into aviation and skydiving—that I decided to give it a shot.”

Mary Ellen’s official NASA bio doesn’t get into her Miata dabblings, but it does points out that she’s logged over 2500 skydives since 1983; was a silver medalist at the US National Skydiving Championships in the 20-way Freefall Formation event in 1991 and ’95; and that in 1996 she was part of the current world-record free-fall formation (297-way).

Skydiving, the space shuttle, flying T38 training jets…. So, I asked, how does she fare with speeding tickets? Mary Ellen responded by saying that she really doesn’t go over the speed limit. “I have on occasion pushed the envelope in the Miata. (But) I drive the way I fly, and that’s very precise, by the book. I just don’t feel the need to take chances.” But doesn’t a car (even a Miata) pale in comparison to traveling through space? “Being up in space is certainly a spectacular experience,” she agreed, “but I enjoy many things: riding on a rollercoaster, skydiving, scuba diving. Just because you’ve had one great experience doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate others.”

I thought that would be a nice note to end our conversation on, but then I remembered the pressing question my editor instructed me to ask: “Is space food really as yucky as they say?”

Mary Ellen laughed, ever the good sport. “We get to pick our whole menu—(from) shrimp cocktails to fajitas…to fresh vegetables. There’s just about anything you can imagine. I’ve eaten better food on the ground, but I’ve also eaten worse.”

 

Back in 2015 I did this the easy way on our previous Miata. I bought a $20 stripe kit from Advance Auto and spent a couple hours carefully trimming and squeegeeing tiny air bubbles out of the vinyl…

Blackout

Paint and body wizard Andrew P. Schank covers a fast but
major tweak you can make to your MX-5’s visual character.

As a paint-and-body guy, the first thing I notice when I see a Miata is the windshield pillar. Mazda had to make it strong, and that meant they also made it big. So in bright colors especially, I think that wide, bodycolor header rail makes the car look like a 1/43rd-scale model—it just seems out of place. The solution is surprisingly simple: Paint the A-pillars and header rail satin black. This dark, nonreflective color visually shrinks whatever it touches, leaving the whole Miata looking lower, sleeker, and more exotic. It’s a minor cosmetic operation that makes a major difference in the customized look of the car. Here’s all there is to it:

1. The header rubber and A-pillar seals are all one piece. To remove it, unscrew the top latches, take off the rearview mirror, and loosen the black-plastic trim on the inside of the header rail. Also loosen the sill plates. Now pry out the two plastic plugs holding the seals to the header at the top corners of the windshield—there’s actually a special tool for this, but you can also get them out with gentle coaxing from a large flat-bladed screwdriver.

2. Now degrease the A-pillar and windshield header inside and out using a commercial degreasing solvent and lint-free paper shop towels (both are available at your local auto paint supply store). Repeat this process two or three times before proceeding—this is a greasy, silicone-laden area, and it won’t take paint until all the goop has been removed.

3. After degreasing, mask off the exterior windshield beading with a very tight strip of 1/4-inch tape (also found at your paint store). Err on the beading side if you have to; the last. thing you want is a sliver of red or white paint showing after you’re done. Now move on to the bottoms of the A-pillars, where you’ll run a straight, horizontal masking strip about an inch below the dashboard line. For a clean, factory look, close the doors and peer into the crack: If you can’t see the tape, your cutoff line is far enough down the pillar. Finally, mask off the inside of the header rail well below the level that will be covered by the interior trim.

4. After taping off the beading, header rail, and pillars, use 320 to 360 grit sandpaper to rough up the surfaces you’ll be painting. This will give the new color something to grab onto. When you’re done with the sanding, degrease and clean the entire area one more time.

5. Here’s the critical part: Mask off just about the rest of the car. Overspray is insidious stuff, and it gets almost everywhere. I like to throw an old car cover over the body from the seats to the back, then protect everything else with broad, top-quality masking tape and professional-grade masking paper (again from your paint store). One short roll of 18 inch paper will be plenty. Oh, and never use newspapers for masking—modern solvents go right through them, and the newsprint creates a lot of lint.

6. Now you’re ready to start shooting paint. If you’re lucky enough to have your own spray rig, I recommend a professional two-part primer like PPG DP90 with DP402 hardener. That means wearing a mask and cleaning a lot of equipment, though, so second best is a rattle-can of top-quality, extra-durable flat-black primer from your auto-paint supplier. (In truth, you can skip the primer step altogether and go straight to the color coat if you have to. Primer greatly increases the final coats’ durability, and this area does get a lot of chips and dings—on the other hand, satin black is a snap to repair, so longevity may not matter to you. Just fogging in a few light coats will re-cover any blemishes without seriously altering the finish.)

7. After you’ve shot two medium-thin coats of primer and allowed them to dry, you’re ready for the color coats. I like to use Mar-Hyde Satin Black trim paint for this job, though SEM makes a similar rattle-can product that seems just as tough—what you’re after here is any extremely durable, professional-grade paint. In any case, all satin-finish spray cans require a whole lot of shaking. Because of the heavy flatteners inside, when the directions say “shake for two minutes after the ball starts to rattle,” they’re not kidding around. An incompletely shaken can will only give you the light, thin solvents at the top, and waves and fish-eyes will result.

8. Satin finishes are also very sensitive to spray density. It’s definitely better to shoot three or four light, fogged-on coats than trying to hose on a single heavy layer. If you build up too much paint too fast, the finish will be shinier than you want and not very durable. It’ll also be glossy where you really puddled it up and flat where it’s thinner—that’s why multiple light coats give a nice, even finish.

9. After your final color coat has dried about ten or 15 minutes, take off all the masking tape. Don’t let it go too long or you might lift off a chip of paint while removing the tape. The painted surface should be left indoors to cure and harden overnight before reinstalling all the trim and weatherstripping.

10. Once all the masking tape and papers are removed, check all around the car for overspray—it may appear as nothing more than a slightly rough finish to some previously smooth panels. To remove any overspray, try wiping the area down with bug-and-tar cleaner first. This may dull the shine, but it won’t hurt the existing paint—you can just re-polish the area later if you need to. Tougher over-spray can be removed by rubbing out the affected area with a medium-grit cleaning or polishing compound.

11. After the header and pillars are totally dry, re-install the trim parts and you’re ready for the road. As with most painting tasks, there’s nothing terribly difficult here; all it takes is careful preparation and scrupulous attention to keeping everything clean. Best of all, your Miata will suddenly stand out from the crowd—not a bad afternoon’s work!

 

There was a four page article written by Tom Matano, the designer of the the first generation Miata, which at first seemed promising. But, as it turned out, it was a rumination on the early cars that were owned by his family and his first car. Well, his second car really, because the lead photo of the article was of Mr. Matano as a child behind the wheel of a metal pedal car.

Night Reading

a vroom of one’s own
Barbara Feinman’s column

“The gearshift, sensitive to my touch, responding like an eager lover. I’m strapped to a speeding bullet; I’m not driving–we’ve both been shot from a cannon. Never so fast. Never so sure. There’s pure adrenaline in the fuel tank….”

I wake up with these words humming in my brain. I can’t remember whether it was a passage from a book or whether I’d just dreamed them or if someone had spoken them over the phone. The receiver is off the hook, on my pillow. Whom had I been talking to? I listen for sounds of life. No baby crying. No water running. No radio.

I feel like I’ve just come home after a long trip. I remember sweating in the California desert, but everyone I met had an Irish accent and was drinking warm Gatorade in pubs.

“Hello?” I yell out. I slowly walk to the bathroom. Taped to the medicine chest is a note: TOOK THE PUMPKIN FOR A WALK. BACK SOON. STAY IN BED.

I pick up the remote to channel-surf, but decide against it. On the nightstand, next to the Pepto Bismol, is a novel called No Brakes. The cover sports two hazy film noir-ish photos: one of a woman engaged in something unrecognizable but most assuredly erotic, the other of a car. The blurb says “Narrated by Mary Jo, a middle-aged American serving both as navigator and lover to Ludo–a seductive young lothario who also happens to be her son’s best friend—No Brakes is full of hidden surprises and dangers lurking beneath the surface?’ I remember it was set in Northern Ireland during a three-day car rally, but had no idea what page I was on or what the hidden surprises and dangers were lurking below the surface. I start flipping through it for a random racing or sex scene.

We’re safely strapped in and doing 80, pothole jumping a scary amusement-park ride….

Kind of like my life; we’re safely strapped in doing 20, avoiding potholes, a scary diaper happening in the infant seat….

I spin the wheel and steer into the ditch. Shaking and sobbing, I climb out and throw up.

Hmmm, more parallels. Well, not the ditch part.

Suddenly I remember whom I had been talking to on the phone. My brother had called during one of my fever dreams.

“Hello,” I had gasped, knocking the base of the phone off my nightstand.
“Hey, you sound awful.”
“This stomach flu is killing me.”
“Did you go to the doctor yet?”
“I keep having all these nightmares.”
“Did you GO to the DOCTOR?”
“I’ve lost nine pounds in three days. I had to be rehydrated intravenously.”
“Wow.” He sounded impressed. “When I used to race in the desert I could lose five pounds in 45 minutes….”

He proceeded to recount a long story about car racing in the Mojave, sweating and Gatorade and electrolytes.

I hear the front door.

“Honey?” I yell.
He comes upstairs and stands in the doorway. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
“You know what I’m in the mood for?”
“What?”
“A drive. Let’s go out for a spin.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll get the Pumpkin ready.”
He turns to leave, then stops. “Perhaps we could stop by a pub for a spot of warm Gatorade.”

Panicked, I think for a moment the fever hasn’t broken, that I’m still delirious. Then I remember my habit of babbling in my sleep. I hear my husband chuckling as he pads down the stairs.

 

In 1998 they started publishing six issues a year. I don’t remember exactly where in the year they came, but for the purposes here they will show up on the first of the even numbered months.

Got Milk?

By Norman Garrett
Founding Father

Among my favorite words after nine each night are, “Honey, do we have milk for the morning?”

Maybe only a Miata owner can understand, but any excuse for a short road trip is cause for glee in my book. Call it spontaneity in my otherwise predictable world.

Me, the moonlight, my Miata, and a short errand. Time to drive with the top down and the radio off. A little island of serenity at the end of a long, probably hard day, Sort of a half automotive yoga/half runner’s high kind of thing. Me and five speeds, no schedule, no ETA. A good excuse for a senseless drive.

And Candi knows it as well as I do. Maybe more, bless her.

Because the fact is, this drive is much more than senseless. As the cool night air tumbles over the wind-shield and my hair gets tousled, perspective falls back into place after 15 hours of absence. I smell the crisp mid-winter woods in hibernation. The cold air on the back of my shift hand feels tingly. The shift knob vibrates with a harsh-er tone over the cold trans-mission. The exhaust echoes against the naked trees, pinpoint stars dot the black winter sky. Hardly senseless, this trip.

In my small way, I’m out of the loop. I come into the store independent of the usual pressed schedule. Others are clamoring to get their weekly shopping done and get home. I’ve already been home. I’m neither here nor there; off the grid for a few minutes.

I stroll past the magazine rack, take a few minutes or ten to catch up on the rest of the automotive world. A little fix for my automotive habit. On to the dairy case, through the express line, back to the parking lot. I’m the only one getting into to a convertible — out of the responsibility loop again. Sure it’s cold out, but hey, I’ve got a heater…

Going home, mission accomplished„ my brain co automatic but in a good way — like a NI-Cad must feel on full charge. I follow may headlights along some yellow lines across familiar roads, bat peg my apexes and shift points flawlessly. Second, third, fourth, then back down again. Tap the brakes, drift the back end — it’s the sort of driving I never do during the day. Nighttime is the best for this, when you have no time to keep.

For me, an excuse to get out after the kids are down and the world is finally quiet is a coupon for peace of mind, a dose of the best kind of medicine. One hundred cc’s of Miata and everything is all better. I wonder if we need eggs…