Driving along on the Anzac bridge, a new F-type Jag caught my eye. The lines and the classical Jaguar logo were a sight to behold. We played look-and-see for a little while until he veered off and continued on his way.

On Monday, I called up Alto Jag in Artarmon and spoke to sales guy by the name of Allan Lequesne. I explained that my car is less than year old and that I change cars every four years. Whilst I said I was not yet ready to buy, I relayed the story of the sighting on Anzac bridge. To cut a long story short, we arranged to meet on Saturday at Alto Jaguar for me to see the car close up and for him to provide a high-level price range.

My first surprise came on Thursday at 5 pm, when Allan Lequesne rang to tell me about a super interest rate offer. I stressed yet again that I was not buying now, as my car was less than one year old. The conversation ended with my new best friend Allan emphasising that I was welcome any time to see the car and to speak to him. On Saturday I arrived as pre-arranged at Alto in Artarmon, only to find that the customer car park was filled to overflowing with new stock of Range Rovers and Jaguars, with not a single space for customers to park. Parking in the street was not an option, as the surrounding area is filled with small industrial units mostly open on Saturday. No parking was to be had for two blocks. In sheer desperation, I rang the sales consultant whom I had been dealing with only to be told that no parking was available and that they were expecting a very busy day. In a voice that indicated that I was bothering him, he told me to park on the street. I did not even try to explain that this was something I had been attempting for the past 15 minutes. The conversation ended with me apologizing in a sarcastic voice for bothering him. Thank you Allan, I will ensure that Alto Jag will never get my business despite the fact it is two-minute drive from where I live.

That afternoon I took a drive to Alexandria to Trivett Jaguar. Plenty of parking was available. I walked into the showroom with no appointment, and despite the fact that they were certainly busy, within a few minutes I was introduced to Jennifer McCarron. I explained the sighting on Anzac Bridge, the fact that my car is less than 12 months old and that I was not looking to change yet. Jennifer spent about 30 minutes with me and showed me the car. We played around with options and how much the car would be worth and I left with a huge smile on my face.

Outcome:

Jaguar F type                     11/10. What a stunning car.

Trivett Jaguar                   10/10. Customer parking, pleasant receptionist, stunning showroom.

Jennifer McCarron            10/10, thank you.

Alto Jag                                  0/10. That is not the way to treat a customer.

Allan Lequesne                 -5/10. You should consider selling used cars on Parramatta Road.

Whilst at Wakefield in December, I met Shane Hood, who was there with his father. He decided that it was a great opportunity to take some photos. He is responsible for a few of the photos already on this website and the new stunning pictures of my baby.

I discovered parts of Sydney I did not realise existed; we upset a number of people entertaining the fish in Menai and interrupted a not-so-discreet couple in a car trying to get passionate with one another (judging by the steamed-up windows) on the top floor of Sutherland Railway car park. Overall it was huge fun. Thank you.

I finally plucked up the courage, and on the last session of the day, took the C63 out for a run. Considering that it was the last session before the Christmas closing down period, there were few cars on the track and I decided to chance it. Tim Brooks was in the passenger seat. He pumped up the air con to arctic conditions (Boz’s race cars do not sport this essential extra) and off we went. It was huge fun. After returning to the pits, my apprehension of having an accident on the track, given the distinct lack off insurance, wore off. Still buzzing, I contacted the guys from Macintosh. Ben thought it was hoot. Simon the business manager was seriously unimpressed. Something to do with the fact that he sold me the insurance. It’s OK, he will get over it.

The brakes were glowing red after this occasion, and I have a funny feeling that doing this often will result in an expensive service bill.

I don’t care, it was still loads of fun.

I like corrupting my nearest and dearest. With that in mind, Mark (“Let’s sell E’s Merc on eBay”) and his better half, Julie, came with me to Wakefield on December 21^st. After a minor marital fracas involving what was and was not on Santa’s list, huge fun was had by all.

Mark, I may even forgive you one day for the prank on eBay. Just not yet.

My well-meaning but at times cruel friends occasionally gang up on me and try to match-make, usually with disastrous results. They knowing my love of cars, it is usually with men who do not share my passion for them, or at least not in the same way. I had forgotten, or best erased these from my memory, but the weekend Prestige Motoring article by John Connolly (Test for quest) brought it all back.

The last of these disasters happened couple of months back. The said individual had been on the radar for months, and I resisted as long as I could. The number of made-up excuses I had come up with would have made Baron Munchhausen proud. Finally, I was cornered, and like a wounded animal, I went on the attack. But nothing worked: the qualities of the knight in the shining armour were listed to me again and again. Just to get some peace, I relented and agreed to coffee. What could possibly go wrong? Plenty, as it seems. My offer of meeting for coffee, preferably somewhere noisy and close to car parking, was declined, and a romantic evening meal with the knight and his steed was the only option. Worn down, I agreed, just to get the whole thing done and over with.

The knight arrived. 10-15 minutes of small talk later, I was ready to spend the night locked in a room full of tarantulas. This was a true child of the Gordon Gekko era. Braces and belt, to ensure that his pants would never fall down. OMG, do people still dress like this? The most interesting book, the one that changed his life, was Who Moved My Cheese. His line was: “I always give 113%.” The glazed look on my face gave even him the message and we set off. My offer to drive was firmly rejected, and we embarked on his trusty steed, a 2013 Lexus. I know it was 2013, because he told me, a number of times. I live on the lower North Shore, so trips to the city are over before you know it. This one lasted a lifetime. Firstly, I was informed that the best way to save fuel is to set the dash screen to your fuel usage. That way, you get 113% fuel efficiency. The constant braking to ensure this 113% percent was crushing my outfit, and the drivers behind us were collecting money to have this individual removed from the roads, perhaps even from the human race. They would have to beat me to it. The conversation in the car was one-way, with him teaching me how to drive better and how to get the best fuel efficiency. Moving in slow motion, we reached the toll gates, where he stopped and explained to me, to be sure 113% that the toll was registered, it is best to stop and count to 20 and then proceed. For some strange reason, the motorists behind us did not share his beliefs. We reached the corner of Grosvenor and Harrington streets and I reached for the door handle and got out. Not a word was spoken. I hailed the first taxi and asked him to take me home. Upon reaching the safety of my unit, I poured a glass of champagne and called my so-called friends. The torrent of abuse lasted for 10 minutes. After that I asked them to stay out of my life until I contacted them.

We are still friends, and during the Christmas break we caught up. I am told that my knight in shining armour was astounded at my reacting in such a way, because my friends had apparently told him that I liked cars.

This is compliments of ”Brian1321”. I liked it so much I thought it deserved another edit:

Our Father who art at Wakefield

Hallowed be thy turbos.

Thy boost come.

Thy tyres be done

On dirt or even on tarmac

Give us this day our daily hoon,

And forgive us our Priuses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us,

And lead us not into beigetation,

But deliver us from boredom.

Amen.

Who would have thought it would be so hard? Certainly not me.

How many people know how long demerit points are recorded on your divers licence? This question sent me on a quest worthy of Victorian era explorer on a hunt for the source of the river Nile. Most friends and colleagues think it is 2 years. I was under the impression it was 3 years and it turned out we were all wrong, it is 3 years and 4 months (40 months).

The government website certainly goes to extra ordinary length to make this information difficult to find. Two emails later I finally obtain an answer that is written in English, rather than Corporate.

Dear E,

Thank you or your email.

The period of time that demerit points accrue is currently three years. This was changed from two years in around 1987-89. The law has not changed since then.

Please see the below link to the Roads and Maritime Services website for the most up to date and current information regarding demerit points, offences and penalties.

http://www.rms.nsw.gov.au/roads/safety-rules/demerits/index.html

With regard to the 40 month period, the Police, State Debt Recovery Office (SDRO) and the local courts notify the Roads and Maritime Services (RMS) of traffic offences committed by licence holders. This information is not normally received until either after the fine is paid or after the appeal date has passed. There is therefore a lag in the time between the actual incident and when the points are recorded on the licence holder’s record.

If a licence holder reaches or exceeds the threshold number that applies for their type of licence in any three-year period, (not three years and four months) the RMS is required to send a notice of suspension.  This three-year period is based on the dates the offences were committed.

An important factor to be aware of is that the law does not limit the counting of demerit points to offences that are less than three years old. What this means is that demerit points do not expire. The record remains, irrespective of the age of the offence, and can therefore be used at any time to initiate a suspension. This means that if a unrestricted licence holder accrued 13 demerit points in a three year period that was five years ago, they can still legally be suspended for it now.

This is where the three years and four months comes in.

The RMS will not count the demerit points for offences that are over 40 months old, so these offences do not appear on the ‘RMS myRecords demerit point enquiry screen’. This therefore stops the situation referred to above from happening.

When the offence you have referred to is more than 40 months old, it will no longer show on the enquiry screen. Therefore, even though the law allows it, a person cannot be suspended if any of the infringements happened more than 40 months ago. This is even if the total of demerit points accrued was 13 and they all happened within a period of three years of each other.

Even though the demerit point’s display for 40 months, an unrestricted licence holder will still only receive notification of a licence suspension if they accrue 13 or more demerit points within any three year period, (not three years and four months) calculated from the offence dates.

So, are we all crystal clear on this?

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster continues to draw new acolytes with a Queensland tradie forgoing a driver’s licence to express his religious beliefs.

Brisbane renderer Simon L. has been unable to drive for almost two months after the state’s Department of Transport and Main Roads (TMR) refused to renew his licence because he insisted on being photographed with a colander on his head. Simon L is a Pastafarian and he believes his rights are being violated because he cannot express his faith through his religious headdress in his licence photo. “I’m a devout member of the church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and I have a right to wear a colander just like Sikhs wear turbans,” the 31-year-old told ninemsn. “Just because they don’t understand my religion doesn’t mean I should be persecuted. I don’t understand why I am being discriminated against. Mr L said after an employee at the TMR refused to allow him to wear a pasta strainer on his head for his license photo, initially citing “the ID systems of the camera”, he escalated the matter. On September 15 the TMR replied that while it allows religious headwear to be worn in driver licence photographs for recognised religions, “this is done on the basis that this headwear is always worn by the person in public places, including while at work and while the person is driving, and should not be removed in public”. “It is not permissible for religious headwear to be only put on for the purpose of the driver licence photo,” the TMR said. When Mr L challenged the TMR the department replied “the Department of Transport and Main Roads’ position that ‘Pastafarianism’ head wear is not permitted to be worn when taking a driver licence photo has not changed.” Mr L is not the first Pastafarian to have had trouble with the authorities because of the way he chooses to express his faith. The spiritual tradie said the decision to adhere to his religious principles has inconvenienced him and also taken a financial toll. “I’ve lost four days’ work because there was no way to get public transport, which to me is about $1200,” he said. However, he remains defiant and said he will “just keep going” if the authorities refuse to budge and insist he cannot be photographed with a colander on his head. “It is not up to a public servant to decide what my beliefs are,” he said. “I demand that my beliefs be respected.” However, the experiences of followers of Flying Spaghetti Monster differ from state to state. Sydney university science student Preshalin M was last month able to obtain a provisional driver’s license with a colander on his head. “After the test I asked if I was able to wear religious headwear and she (the woman at the Roads and Maritime Services) said yes,” Mr M said. “I pulled out the colander, put it on my head and she just took the photo.” The situation is also different for South Australian Pastafarians. Earlier this year Adelaide man Guy A had his legally obtained guns seized after he requested to wear a pasta strainer on his head for a firearms licence photo. He had his religion questioned and was forced to undergo a psychiatric evaluation before his weapons were returned. Captain Tanya Watkins of the Australian branch of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster asks “What other person has had their religion questioned and been forced to go to such lengths to prove their sanity”. And the problem is not unique to Australia.

A man in Canada was recently denied a renewal of his driver’s license because he refused to be photographed without his holy headgear. Obi Canuel of British Colombia, who is an ordained minister in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, said he should be allowed to wear a colander on his head the same way as Sikhs wear turbans and Jews wear yarmulkes. Ms Watkins said she believes the case shows that Pastafarians are people who have deep religious beliefs and are willing to fight to have their religious rights observed. “What has occurred in his case is clear discrimination, and I admire and support his refusal to give up his beliefs due to religious repression by the government,” she said. “No other religion requires needing to ‘prove’ it is a real religion, nor does any other person of a particular faith need to prove they are an adherent or that it is a requirement of their religion to wear a certain thing on their head. Only Pastafarians.”

And I will finish up by saying, anybody wanting to have a gun licence and wear a pasta colander on their head, then I whole heartedly agree, they should have their mental health checked.

A friend, ex-colleague and also a very proud dad sent me these pictures. A few days later and I am still smiling. Marshall is only seven years old and is getting better times than boys five years older. His younger brother looks to have even better coordination, balance and spatial awareness. Well, that is according to his dad, and he would not be biased, would he?

Here is to all the children starting out in motorsport. We need the next generation of Ricciardos and Whincups coming through the line. I looking forward seeing them progress and taking their place on the podiums in the next 5 to 10 years.