I could be drummed out of The Vintage & Veteran Club for this! Perhaps my eclectic tastes are to blame for what many in the club might say is a heinous crime.
I have an enquiring interest in music, from Baroque to Classical to free jazz.
I loved spinning a disc on the jukebox in the varsity common room, and thatʼs where the trouble began.
That beast of a Wurlitzer gobbled up my sixpenny pieces and thundered out All shook up from Elvis at full volume.
Jukeboxes of the 1950s changed the landscape of pubs and clubs.
No more sedate wooden boxes, these flashy automatons wore chrome, bright plastics, bubble tubes, grinning grilles and fins, and wore them spectacularly well.
So well, in fact, they lent a legacy to another icon of the time. And here it was; I had to have it.
It greeted me with the wide grin of a toothy chrome grille.
Its long, sweeping body was a clear signal that the American steel industry of the day was in rude health, happily rolling out acres of metal for one car!