A few years ago the man that is now my husband, showed up for our first date in a snappy green convertible. Dwarfed by passing SUV's, it seemed to be a styling escapee from children's amusement park ride. As he helped me inside through a door no more than one foot tall, I was intrigued. As he gunned the engine and the tiny beast the unmuffled roar of a lion, I was impressed. And by the time he'd driven six blocks, what with the small boys shouting "Awesome!' from the sidewalk and the big one's sticking their thumbs up in salute, I was in love.

Oh, yes -- I eventually fell for the man, too.

This was my introduction to the British Morgan, the last hand-assembled, coach-built car still in production today. The first Morgan rolled off the assembly line in Malvern, England around 1910. The company has been turning them out thereat the genteel pace of a few hundred a year ever since.

Rattling along on a antique-style suspension, the Morgan's speedometer needle bouncing crazily between the 30 and 50 mph, you feels every bump and crack in the road. For enthusiasts, the rough ride is part of the car's vintage-style charm. In fact, the company has changed very little of the car's technology.

A drive in any Morgan is more than your everyday trip to the supermarket or run to the dry cleaner. It's a parade, with you in the lead - a picnic jaunt down some faraway county lane. Or maybe you're an RAF pilot rushing to join your squadron, or you're rounding the last curve at Monte Carlo.

In winter, our morgan lives in a comfy garage while our real cars shiver outside. On the first day of good weather. it's polished up, backed out carefully into the street and tooled around with the pride of new parents taking their baby out for a first stroll. As we reach the expressway, I hunker down in this tiny, topless, open cockpit of an automobile and grin.
Tally-ho, Squadron Leader