I have previously made reference before here at CC to my Depeche Mode fandom earlier in my life. A few specific things this week led me down the path of rediscovering both the DM albums in my possession and also this photo I had taken almost ten years ago. At this writing, this Saturday, March 5th stands to be the first day of 2022 to reach at least 60 degrees Fahrenheit (16 Celsius), and most of my windows are open at home. I’ve also been painstakingly uploading all of my digitized music onto my portable music player (remember those?) so as to keep my phone free. The combination of the cool breeze blowing into my living space, this time of year conjuring up memories of the school year almost being over, and also refamiliarizing myself with music I’ve purchased over the years has me feeling nostalgic for the first tastes of independence that came at a very crucial time in my life.
My first exposure to Depeche Mode was from my brother who was quite a bit older than me, but by the time I had “discovered” them on my own, it was a revelation and something I was able to completely separate in my mind from associations with my brother. Without repeating everything I had written in that essay linked above from three years ago, and with the experience of hindsight, I’ll just say that it was a combination of impressive electronic production and lyrics that were alternately dark, disconnected, and occasionally hopeful that made this band one of my favorites at a time when I tried to make sense of many aspects of my own existence. Putting their discography through a sieve, 1987’s Music For The Masses, an album that was already years old by the time I had discovered it, was the one that resonated with me the most for a while. The lead-off track, “Never Let Me Down Again“, contains the lyric: “I’m taking a ride with my best friend…”
Riding around in my friends’ cars became an electrifying, new experience for the teenaged me. Even then, I took note of the strong sense of purpose that seemed to come from riding somewhere with someone. Before this, the only times I would ride in a car would be most often while with a parent on the way to the grocery store, church, or the mall. Being a passive participant in a joyride with peers was thrilling in a completely nonsexual way that seemed almost as powerful. To be chosen as a passenger in someone’s car for a leisure trip could feel like an intimate act of being let into someone’s personal space and prized possession, and the length of the journey could be like a measure of how much trust the owner / driver placed in being able to be comfortable around me, even if I wasn’t yet as comfortable in my own skin. There was also a sense of belonging, which was something I craved. Some of my happiest, most contented memories have been of being a passenger in a car.
When I snapped the lead photo in 2012, I was riding in my friend Mark’s (name changed, as he’s a pretty private person) 1980 MGB Limited Edition on a summer night while on the way to a party. Mark’s is the first MGB I had ever ridden in, and have since. The car had been in his family since new, having first belonged to his sister, after which he had purchased it from her later on. Taking a top-down night ride to the north Chicago neighborhood where the party was being held had me lost in the sensory experience of everything – the sounds, smells, noise/vibration/harshness, etc., reminding me much of those teenage joyrides. The car was tiny (I can’t imagine what riding in an even smaller MG Midget would be like) and low to the ground, as the slightly-raised, U.S.-spec cars still had only five inches of ground clearance.
The 1980 MGB is a hair under five feet wide (a full ten inches narrower than the ’74 Pinto I write about earlier this month), just under 50 inches tall, and just over 158 inches long. Mark and I were in close quarters in that car, which took a little getting used to, but he was and is my good friend, so it didn’t feel as weird as it might have with someone else. The Limited Edition option package offered on the ’79 and final-year 1980 models included special striping, wide tires on special alloy wheels, a front air dam, special steering wheel, and a few other accoutrements. The advertisement posted above also includes a luggage rack as being one of those features, but I don’t remember seeing an MGB of any vintage without one.
According to one source, there were only 6,668 MGBs equipped with the LE package. Mark no longer owns his example, but I’m glad I had the foresight on one balmy, summer night to try to capture with my camera a visual representation of what it felt like to be watching the world pass us by from the passenger seat of my good friend’s classic, British roadster. I’m generally much more content and at peace these days than to really get into Depeche Mode (some of my friends used to refer to them as “Depressed Mode”) the way I did thirty-some years ago, as I’ve had far fewer days of strange highs and strange lows since my conflicted teenage years and young adulthood. (The album version and not the single remix of “Strangelove” is the definitive one for me.) To listen to DM again, though, brings me back to a time when an effective, temporary escape from personal emotional conflict was found both in music and in the passenger’s seat of a best friend’s car.
Chicago, Illinois.
Saturday, July 28, 2012.
I miss the variety of music from the 80s – so many styles were on the radio then. I was never a big enough fan of DM to buy any, but I certainly never complained when someone else was playing it.
You also make me realize that I miss that quintessentially teenage thing of riding aimlessly in a car with a friend or two. Nobody in my circle had a 2 seater like the MGB, but I spent plenty of time in Pintos, Mustang IIs and a 68 Cougar.
I don’t even listen to the radio anymore. I’ve either tuned in an XM channel or I’m listening to one of my mp3s if I’m in my car.
MGBs looked so fun to own.
If I had a car today, and if gas prices weren’t bonkers, I’d make it a point to aimlessly joyride from time to time, today.
Besides Mark’s MGB, the only other two seater I can ever recall having ridden in was a CRX… but I’m saving that experience for another post. 🙂
I’ve mentioned numerous times that I owned 2 Midgets in the late 80’s when I was 20-24ish. Those early Spring nights with the top down are some of the clearest, most visceral memories I have of driving them. I often picked up a good friend and just went wandering on back roads with a bunch of good music and good conversation. The sounds, vibrations and most importantly the scents of those drives made them feel like golden moments. In the wooded hills and farmland of Northwestern NJ and surrounding areas of Pennsylvania and New York back then there were plenty of near empty and undeveloped winding two lanes to explore, and the intimately tight cabin of that tiny car did seem to foster some good chats, as we were of course at a time in our lives when there was much to figure out, but also plenty of time to do so, or so we thought, I suppose. The best sensual experiences of those rides often came as surprises, like rounding a curve out in the farmlands and taking in the scents of freshly plowed fields and manure, and seeing lightning bugs hovering in a bog off in the distance, or gliding down a hill and feeling the moisture in the air as you pass by a roadside pond steaming in the cool light air, and hearing the crickets and frogs singing as you puttered by. Good memories.
I very much enjoyed reading this – your words perfectly encapsulated the appeal of drives like these.
I’ve only ever driven and/or ridden in a B with the top down. It’s a visceral sensory overload which overcomes the nature of the car itself – which I don’t find all that good. I can’t imagine driving in an MGB-GT. It seems to miss the whole point.
It’s funny you mention the MGB GT, because the Jensen-Healey re-post that ran a few days ago also referenced a Jensen GT shooting brake. I had a similar thought to yours about the latter car – not bad-looking, but sacrificing the joys of top-down motoring in the Jensen-Healey… I don’t know.
I could drive my MGB-GT in the winter, it was a daily driver for a couple of years. And the “rear seat” folded down so a dog could fit in the back.
If you like roadsters, I guess. I’ve never liked convertibles, too much wind, and I’ve never liked being in the sun – when I’m out somewhere in the summer, I seek out shade whenever possible. On the other hand, I love the feel of a small, close-coupled coupe’. Moreover, I drive my sportscars hard, and the extra stiffness is a huge plus – it’s hard enough for the suspension to do its work properly, with the body twisting and flexing it’s even worse.
Rowing the gears of my 58 MGA thru the hills of central California in 1969 were one of the best times of my driving life!
It makes me sad to think there are whole generations of drivers among which so few will know fun it is to drive a stick shift.
Especially the best-shifting one ever. The poor British, they use the wrong hand to shift it (unless they are left-handed).
You seem big on MGBs, I wonder if you have ever heard this: we junked it because of the wire wheels. After beating it in the US for a couple of years the spokes loosened, you could see them sort of pulling out of the wheel “dimples”(?). Have you ever tried to find a cheap wire-wheel man in 1975 US? And with the knock-offs you couldn’t go to steel.
Of course, the wheels were only part of the story, it rotted out up to our armpits, too. If the body was ok it would be on blocks under a tarp now, waiting for us to hit the Lotto and buy some wheels.
In the case of the MGB, all you have to do is swap out the splined hubs for steel/alloy wheel hubs, they just unbolt from the axle flange. My BGT has wires, but I bought a set of disc wheel hubs to swap, I just haven’t decided what wheels to get.
I should have said the rear hubs unbolt from the rear axle flange, the front hubs you just change complete.
I greatly enjoyed my MKI MGB GT, it was indeed fun to drive if not overly fast .
Those teenage years of learning and yearning, you alls write well of them .
-Nate
Thanks, Nate. I’ve been sitting on pictures of an MGB GT I photographed maybe 10 years ago. Waiting for the right inspiration before sitting down at the ol’ keyboard…
You’ve unleashed some great old memories! It was always an exciting time hitchhiking across South Africa and Namibia when I was an Army conscript trying to get home for the weekend. Once I was picked up by a guy in a Mk1 Golf GTI who was making up time to get to Windhoek late at night. Traveling fast across the empty plains of Namibia at night is dangerous because Kudu, a buck which can weigh up to 600 lbs, can run into the path of the headlights. I’ve never concentrated so much in my life looking for eyes reflecting in the headlights. After school and army were done and I could be my own person I discovered life and Depeche Mode, happy days!
I loved reading this. To come face-to-face (or car-to-beast) with a 600-lb. Kudu while driving fast? I wouldn’t have needed caffeine to stay awake, I’ll tell you that.
I was fortunate enough to see DM in concert twice – once in ’94 and again in ’98.
When I saw Joe’s headline here, I immediately began think of rides that I’d taken with good friends, and my mind went back to one trip when I was in my 20s. My best friend and I took a long trip to watch a football game in Pennsylvania, and then had a long, tiring trip back.
Somewhere along the trip home — late at night, with both of us tired — a deer jumped right in front of my friend’s Chevy Cavalier as we drove down a highway. It must’ve missed our car by just a few feet, but that thing startled us awake better than any caffeine. We spent the rest of the journey busily keeping our eyes skinned for eyes.
Oh, and I’ve love to visit Windhoek and Namibia one day. But in the daytime.
The first friend I remember with a car as a teen had an MGB. This was in the late eighties
and although his was only a decade old at the time, it looked, and felt ragged. I generally
rode sitting, and holding on for dear life, to the luggage rack as his girlfriend
(understandably) got the passenger seat. Great fun being terrified.
Haha! I would have also been afraid that the screws (or whatever) holding the luggage rack to the trunk would have shaken loose. I also bartered my life a few times just to get a ride home before I knew better.
What a cool first car for your friend to have, though.
Unforgettable memories of riding around in my brother’s clapped-out MGA, especially on the little winding back roads of northern Baltimore County. I can smell, hear and see it all in great detail. Few things better on a warm summer night.
Few things worse on a cold winter day.
A friend had an MG of some sort back in the mid 80s. He bought it because it looked cool, but he lacked the money or skills to get ahead of its issues. On top of its other problems, it was a fair weather friend.
A red light that illuminated when the heater switch was in the “on” position, fortunately an incandescent back then, radiated more heat than did the actual heater. To add insult to injury, the air that leaked in around the top added extra coldness. We needed to wear additional layers when we drove that car to school in the winter. It was a relief to get out of the car at the end of the ride, stand up and move some muscles and escape the intra-vehicular wind chill.
I went to high school in the suburbs of Toronto in the mid 60s and MGBs were quite popular. It was before the rubber bumpers and other changes, so they were decent cars. Obviously the music of the day was different, but I still listen to it. My school included a significantly wealthy area so several students drove new MGBs, including one with wire wheels. Unfortunately I was not friends with them so I did not get any rides. For a couple of years the principal drove a GT, but he eventually replaced it with a Rover 2000TC.
At university one of my new friends had an MGB in BRG with overdrive. It was a great car and I spent a bit of time in it, but I never got to drive it. It was certainly more comfortable than another friend’s Triumph Spitfire.
The opening picture here is fantastic – I have no idea how you were able to get the exposure just right on that kind of shot.
Your quote that your “most contented memories have been of being a passenger in a car” is very true now that I think about it. There’s something about riding around with a friend or friends that makes so many worries just melt away.
Thanks, Eric. This shot was the result of just going for it – I just held my camera up, tried to aim properly at what I wanted to capture, and fired away. I think this was the only usable frame of maybe four or five. Of course, I had to blow it up and give “Mark” a 16X20″ print.
I was going to write in my comment that I hope you printed out a large version of this shot — so I’m glad you did!
My first car was a 1979 Triumph Spitfire. When i was 14 years old my dad brought it home on a trailer and told me that the Spitfire was my project for the next two years. It wasn’t a basketcase but I did learn the basics of mechanical, electrical, and bodywork and did get it going by the time I was 16. Those old British roadsters were so simple to work on – heck the whole front end opened like a clamshell so access was easy. I remember sitting on the front tires trying to diagnose the carb(s), adjust the valves, changing the plugs or just fixing whatever was ailing it that day. This was in the late 80s so there wasn’t any internet. Instead I had a Haynes manual, catalogs from Moss Motors and The Roadster Factory, and the help of my dad to get it up and running. Reliable it was not. I spent so many weekends fixing the things that broke on it during the week. It did last me through high school but eventually I ended up killing it due to questionable accuracy of the temperature gauge and catastrophic overheating. It was at night and I remember the block was glowing red. Sold it to a guy who was going to swap a small Buick V8 in it.
I also enjoy Depeche Mode. 101 is one of my favorite live albums and is a road trip staple.
Cheers!
The Spitfire – another classic, British roadster that had its final year in 1980. I had to look up pictures of what they looked like with the hood open, as I had forgotten. Gas struts! I guess I should have guessed.
A college buddy of mine had a Spitfire back home (or maybe it was his brother’s?), but he used to talk about how hard it was to keep that car running. To your point, though, it seems like the ideal setup, with the clamshell hood open on a car like this, to learn about engines and where everything is. (Things I know next to nothing about.)
I went thru boot camp with my buddies at Paris Island. My first duty station was in Cali. Me and my friend the heavy weight state wrestling champ in Tennessee high school was with me when we drove my orange MGB from North Carolina. We had our seabags on the back luggage rack and made the trip with no issues.After our school in Cali they told us we could stay in Cali or go to Hawaii. I choose Hawaii my friend stayed in Cali. He ended up driving my car back home to North Carolina. My sister ended up wrecking my car. I never saw it again. I would own one again but I have moved up to a BMW M3 with a V8 and manual transmission. I love this car and it will be my last as I am 64 and soon to be 65.
David, this was great to read. I hope you forgave your sister! I feel like there’s something lost when ownership of a car (or anything, really) transfers from the person who originally acquired it and the next owner.
I searched the comments behind the scenes to see if your picture was buried somewhere, and I couldn’t find it. The issue might have been with the size of the file, as WordPress generally allows a file size only so big for pictures to be left in comments. (I’ve had the same thing happen to me when commenting on other posts.)
I think I have ridden in exactly two BMWs in my entire life.
My MGB went from NC to Cali and back in 1980 with no issues. Myself and my buddy with our seabag on the trunk made the trip. My friend drove it back home as I was sent to Hawaii and my buddy stayed in Cali. My little sister ended up wrecking the car and it was sold. I never saw the car again. It was a fun car but jow I drive a 2008 BMW M3 V8 with manual transmission. It will go around 150 mph but I have yet to see the top speed. I am 65 and have settled down a bit.
Add the picture between the two comments.
It was possible to swap the wire wheels for conventional lug nut wheels but did require changing the hubs. Easy enough on the front but on the rear, you have to swap in a rear axle from a lug bolt car (the axle assy is different width). Not all that difficult of a job either. I liked the look of the wires but keeping them in true on a daily driver was not fun. Mine was a 1970 which was still a proper MGB. The 1980 special looks nice enough but the raised ride height, rubber nose and strangled engine really took the fun out of the car. Easy enough to lower it back down and swap in a pre-emissions engine but I think you have to replace the front fenders in order to get rid of the ugly nose.
I had an 80 LE converted to a 5TI (5speed Turbo IRS) while stationed in England. I loved that car. With the overdrive, she surprised a lot of muscle cars in both acceleration and top end.