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When about 200 British classics rolled onto Queen St. last month for “Brits on the Lake” — Roy Mercer was one of the enthusiastic group of old ‘car guys’ showing off his pride and joy... My father, Roy, is a ‘car guy’. In my opinion, a passion for auto- mobiles is a trait you're born with, like blue eyes or brown hair... and my dad was born to be a ‘car guy’, From his very first car, a 1937 Singer, Roy was hooked. And from then - when his pride ‘n’ joy looked similar to the Singer I’ve seen in faded photographs - to today, he remains a dyed-in-the-wool ‘car guy’. There is, of course, an opposite side to that fence. Others view their autos as mere conveyances and con- veniences, not giving a hoot whose nameplate is on the hood, or what's underneath it. Me, I belong to that huge blob of society who populate the middle ground: able to appreciate the beauty of a fine machine, but lack the afi- cionado’s curiosity or encyclopedic knowledge. Obviously, my attitude is shared by a sizeable segment of the popula- tion, if the e large attendance at Port Roy Mercer {in hat) stands in front of his 1954 MG TF with his son Scott, a writer for Focus on Scugog who leamed why these old relics are so important to ‘car guys’. Perry BIA’s rain-soaked “Brits on the Lake” event last month was any indi- cator. It was a proud day for me, one I’m lucky to have shared with my dad from the passenger seat of his lovingly restored 1954 MG TF. The ride in this 55-year-old relic is rough by modern standards. The braking requires a Herculean leg; the steering, substantial effort of its own. But man, do you look cool sitting in that seat. Iremember my father buying the car when I was in high school. I was taken aback when he pulled in the driveway with a flatbed trailer tagging his new toy behind. It looked more like an overturned dinner than anything which might draw admiring glances cruising the street. But he swore that would change. And it did — over the course of a couple years. Some aspects, like the upholstery, he farmed out to experts, while others — its engine and bod: panels — he assisted skilled specialists in repairing. Partly, this assistance was a budg- etary necessity; but he confesses now he wanted to learn enough ‘car-guys’ skill to be useful. Lacking his own garage, he bargained with a neighbour for his garage. “A case of beer a month,” he describes as being the deal. To his delight, the restored body parts fit together, and with a little tweaking, the engine purred. Still, despite his excitement, he remained understandably conservative. “The first hundred miles, I’ll bet I Please turn to page 28 FOCUS - SEPTEMBER 2010 29