Somehow I can't imagine the Rolling Stones' Mick Jagger or Keith Richards shouldering themselves into tweed jackets and driving around in a Morgan roadster.
Not that they do, as far as I know, but it struck me that the car has a lot in common with the wrinkly rock band: it's British, it's a living legend that's been around for decades, and it shows little sign of quitting anytime soon.
The Rolling Stones and the car have stuck to their roots - for better or worse - while the world changed around them. The Stones have stayed old-time rockers and eschewed Madonna-style reinvention while Morgan makes cars that still look like those grandpa drove.
The small Morgan Motor Company is still plugging away making cars for enthusiasts while the mainstream British motor industry is in tatters.
At 70 years old the Morgan 4/4 holds the world record for being the longest-running model. The Morgan Roadster I recently drove one chilly Highveld morning is but a spring chicken by comparison at 38 years, but it's built to the same tradition as the 1930s: a metal body over a wooden frame and styling straight out of the Great Gatsby era.
The two-seater soft-top is based on the Morgan Plus 8 that lived from 1968-2004 but was renamed Roadster when its ageing lump of a Rover V8 engine was swopped for a more powerful and modern Ford three-litre V6 - the same engine that powers today's Jaguar S-type.
The example I drove was borrowed from SA's Morgan importer, Springs-based Terry Allan.
It was slightly used with about four thou' on the clock, yours for R570 000 compared to a new one that would cost R650 000. Morgan is notorious for its long waiting lists but Allan says delivery these days is much better and he could have a new Roadster in your driveway in a tad over six months.
It's a car with cool charisma but awful practicality. There's not even a boot, let alone cupholders. A tiny open glove compartment and a bit of space behind the seats is the total of its storage capacity. Better to send your odds and ends by carrier pigeon.
Though the car meets modern safety standards it has no crash bags or rollover protection so you don't particularly want to crash it.
There's no air-con, power steering, electric windows, sound system or any of the luxury goodies one mostly takes for granted these days. Given the price, you'd think that might miff some buyers, but apparently not given the long waiting list.
You can't drive this car on "autopilot" while your mind wanders. It's a loud, visceral experience that grabs your attention and holds on to it.
Bit of manhandling
The car's noisy whether the canvas top is up or down; and the roof isn't electrically operated like modern roadsters.
It involves a bit of manhandling and unclipping but in fairness doesn't take longer than a minute once you get the hang of it. When in place the roof isn't a close-fitting seal by any means however, so stay away from rainy weather and car washes.
The ride quality is terrible on roads that are less than table smooth. The Roadster judders and jiggles like a wet Doberman. All charmingly era-authentic, I imagine, but just don't have a big breakfast before driving it.
It has no shortage of grunt, however. The V6 beneath that elongated nose pushes out a forceful 166kW and 280Nm which, together with the car's super-light 940kg, gives it a none-too-shabby power-to-weight ratio.
Zero to 100km/h takes a claimed 4.9sec and it zoomed to 200km/h quite briskly. Morgan says it will reach 215km/h.
It's a no-brainer
On every objective level the car makes no sense at all. It's an anachronism in our modern world of safe, practical, squeaky-clean motoring.
For similar money would you rather buy a much faster, smoother BMW M Roadster with all the bells and whistles? For most people the answer's a no-brainer but then the Morgan isn't a car for most people.
It's a car for tweed-wearing gents of means who most likely already have a fine collection of wheeled toys. It's for Sunday morning runs with the lads and ladies in the Piston Ring Club, harking back to a grand era of motoring.
I won't say I can't get no satisfaction, because there is something grand about grasping that wooden wheel and peering over that long bonnet and those pumped-out fenders. But not enough to make me want to spend 650 grand on it.
But then I don't have a tweed jacket or a seven-figure bank account.
- You can call Terry Allan on 082 412-0371.