The School Run, Little Women & Horsepower...
Discussion
In matters of automotive etiquette, my wife is a traditionalist: operates a Landcruiser, against which I've advised her is about to be unleashed a torrent of public castigation from her soon to be contemporaries, by whom I mean, other fillies dropping orf their sprogs before the rigours of the day's ear perming can unfurl, down the local nursery.
So there I was, almost developing a social conscience for this provincial demonstration of low rent Chelsea tractorism when yesterday, I made a dog leg and nipped in for some offspring collection myself (a one off, rest assured)...and got one helluva shock...
Suddenly, the crudity of the 3.0 turbodiesel I had arrived in had me feeling no more societally reprehensible than a [i]commuter au Matiz[/i] in a congestion zone surrounded by Mondeo Ghia suburbanites.
To my left, a [b]Bentley Continental Flying Spur[/b] (quite as vile as the pictures suggest) and in an adjacent parking space - well, straddled [i]across[/i] two spaces - was one of those latest, lowrooflined, supercharged V8, Range Rover Sport jobs and very impressive it seemed, too.
The sheer grandeur of this spectacular brace had me momentarily transfixed as the soon to be oblitterated, rabbit headlampee but it was no good, this was [i]outrageous![/i]
As I took in the epic proportions of this undeniable, automotive splendour, both drivers conveniently emerged from the sprogular barracks.
In both cases, I had to kneel, bow my head and salute this new scale of wanton, school run-cum-cummuto profligacy: the supercharged Rangie driver was of course, a young asian bride, perhaps as old as 14 and round here, representing the default sexual, socio-economic profile for such bringing of bling.
However, the staggering moment arose when young Jill McSparrow, a female so slight that the term 'slip of a girl' must have personally induced visions of Giant Haystacks with a weight problem, hove into view and approached her chariot.
This vision of english rosed timidity was by any standard measure of judgementalism [i]surely[/i] heading for that (in this company) perfectly acceptable Chrysler SUV thingy.
Er, no, mate. As the tiny frame of this primary school escapee drove the Bentley off the car park, a massive question mark had appeared like some divine light above my head. What? [i]How?[/i]
The game had moved on: old school arrogance like a smoking, Toyota sand dune crusher, were clearly becoming passe some time ago - the X5, ML and latterly Cayenne - had seen to that.
But now, physical size itself seemed to be giving way to rampant horsepower. Clearly, it is now [i]essential[/i] that one [i]cannot[/i] be outdone in the playground posing stakes.
Now, you may detect a slight tone of bitterness, twisted by a soupcon of jealousy and garnished with some slightly marinated envy and frankly, you'd be right.
This was cosmic one upmanship, pure and simple and I was a simpering, whimpering dog.
Some few minutes later, I found myself at some traffic lights, the asian filly bearing orf into the grounds of one of the area's latest, post modern, manorial seats.
As I ploughed ceremoniously into a lamp post, the last image that flashed through my brain was the image of what I presumed to be her hubbie's car parked up, a modest Rolls Royce Phantom.
As I lay here, psychologically damaged by the enormity of the fiscal defcits that life deals out to us all, I'm left searching as to quite how these people do it but I'm clear on one thing: I'm selling the wrong drugs.
Comrade DeR.
So there I was, almost developing a social conscience for this provincial demonstration of low rent Chelsea tractorism when yesterday, I made a dog leg and nipped in for some offspring collection myself (a one off, rest assured)...and got one helluva shock...
Suddenly, the crudity of the 3.0 turbodiesel I had arrived in had me feeling no more societally reprehensible than a [i]commuter au Matiz[/i] in a congestion zone surrounded by Mondeo Ghia suburbanites.
To my left, a [b]Bentley Continental Flying Spur[/b] (quite as vile as the pictures suggest) and in an adjacent parking space - well, straddled [i]across[/i] two spaces - was one of those latest, lowrooflined, supercharged V8, Range Rover Sport jobs and very impressive it seemed, too.
The sheer grandeur of this spectacular brace had me momentarily transfixed as the soon to be oblitterated, rabbit headlampee but it was no good, this was [i]outrageous![/i]
As I took in the epic proportions of this undeniable, automotive splendour, both drivers conveniently emerged from the sprogular barracks.
In both cases, I had to kneel, bow my head and salute this new scale of wanton, school run-cum-cummuto profligacy: the supercharged Rangie driver was of course, a young asian bride, perhaps as old as 14 and round here, representing the default sexual, socio-economic profile for such bringing of bling.
However, the staggering moment arose when young Jill McSparrow, a female so slight that the term 'slip of a girl' must have personally induced visions of Giant Haystacks with a weight problem, hove into view and approached her chariot.
This vision of english rosed timidity was by any standard measure of judgementalism [i]surely[/i] heading for that (in this company) perfectly acceptable Chrysler SUV thingy.
Er, no, mate. As the tiny frame of this primary school escapee drove the Bentley off the car park, a massive question mark had appeared like some divine light above my head. What? [i]How?[/i]
The game had moved on: old school arrogance like a smoking, Toyota sand dune crusher, were clearly becoming passe some time ago - the X5, ML and latterly Cayenne - had seen to that.
But now, physical size itself seemed to be giving way to rampant horsepower. Clearly, it is now [i]essential[/i] that one [i]cannot[/i] be outdone in the playground posing stakes.
Now, you may detect a slight tone of bitterness, twisted by a soupcon of jealousy and garnished with some slightly marinated envy and frankly, you'd be right.
This was cosmic one upmanship, pure and simple and I was a simpering, whimpering dog.
Some few minutes later, I found myself at some traffic lights, the asian filly bearing orf into the grounds of one of the area's latest, post modern, manorial seats.
As I ploughed ceremoniously into a lamp post, the last image that flashed through my brain was the image of what I presumed to be her hubbie's car parked up, a modest Rolls Royce Phantom.
As I lay here, psychologically damaged by the enormity of the fiscal defcits that life deals out to us all, I'm left searching as to quite how these people do it but I'm clear on one thing: I'm selling the wrong drugs.
Comrade DeR.
You should try driving through Harpenden, Herts. For those that don't know it, it is a commuter town on the Thameslink line. It was ranked within the top ten richest towns (in terms of number of millionaires per capita IIRC).
It is nose-to-tail Cayennes, X5s, Lexii and other bling Chelsea tractors. They are all driven by minute, perfectly formed Loreal-blonde fillies who bear more than a passing resemblance to the Stepford Wives.
They are also to be seen driving how the f**k they want to get hubby to the station. "Road Laws - but I'm in a hurry!"
It is nose-to-tail Cayennes, X5s, Lexii and other bling Chelsea tractors. They are all driven by minute, perfectly formed Loreal-blonde fillies who bear more than a passing resemblance to the Stepford Wives.
They are also to be seen driving how the f**k they want to get hubby to the station. "Road Laws - but I'm in a hurry!"
school population are unfit and obese, what's wrong with kids walking to school........
i went to my nieces school sports prize / giving at her school a few weeks ago.
i pulled into the carpark and was in ph heaven.
db9's yes thats plural, bentley gts , range rover sports a few classics all manner of 4 x 4's, its the only time i felt low rent in my xjr, but that was countered by seeing all those tasty motors in one place, especially the db9's.
back to the topic , tiny little woman dropping her weedy sprog at the same school in a hummer. struggled to drive it down the narrow lane then could not park it.
when my niece was 5 , i used to drive a van, she hated me taking her to school in it. she used to complain that the other kids made fun of her, i told her your uncle drives a van, and it its a nice van, it will not make any difference to you. it may have made her a target for some of the kids. she was head girl in her last year.
i pulled into the carpark and was in ph heaven.
db9's yes thats plural, bentley gts , range rover sports a few classics all manner of 4 x 4's, its the only time i felt low rent in my xjr, but that was countered by seeing all those tasty motors in one place, especially the db9's.
back to the topic , tiny little woman dropping her weedy sprog at the same school in a hummer. struggled to drive it down the narrow lane then could not park it.
when my niece was 5 , i used to drive a van, she hated me taking her to school in it. she used to complain that the other kids made fun of her, i told her your uncle drives a van, and it its a nice van, it will not make any difference to you. it may have made her a target for some of the kids. she was head girl in her last year.
wedg1e said:
All the money in the land still can't buy class. You just know that anyone who was REALLY wealthy wouldn't be collecting their own kids from school; they'd have the chauffeur do it...
Nah, REALLY welthy sprogs would either be borders or educated at home by a private tutor.
I went to a boys school in Gerrards Cross. Once I was 7 years old, my parents allowed me to cycle the 5 or so miles to school, or I took the train in the winter. On the very rare occasion I was driven to school, it was in Mum's red mini cooper. Chelsea Tractors hadn't been invented then. (late 60's/early 70's) There were some stupendous cars outside most mornings but the best was a brand new Jensen Interceptor that arrived outside one morning. None of us had ever seen anything like it. It was pale gold with a vinyl roof. The dad that owned it had to take all of us drooling schoolboys for a spin round the block in it.
Great days.
Great days.
wedg1e said:
All the money in the land still can't buy class. You just know that anyone who was REALLY wealthy wouldn't be collecting their own kids from school; they'd have the chauffeur do it...
As the delightful family I was parked near in the Legoland car park tipified.
Supercharged Rangie, lovely car.
The wife alights to announce.
'Five fahrking parnd to park in a fahrking car park'
Quite charming.
Someone give this man a regular coloumn before he hurts someone the RR sport is obviously becoming very popular very quickly but i hope it doesnt particularly lower the amount of the full size Rangies on the road as personally i think its a nicer car,especially as the supercharged engine is available for it now.
on the point of petite women and huge 4*4s i think its also to do with the feeling of saftey it gives them while driving which is understandable,but if they can afford it then why not?
watching them park can sometimes provide amusment too.
TypeR said:
it was in Mum's red mini cooper
My mum had a series of estates from Granada to an Ital
We used to share the school run with some other families in the village which was fine until we were involved in a head on collision with some tw@t in a Cortina. There were 6 of us in the car, my brother and I were in the boot. We were in a Renault 5blueyes said:
All the money in the land still can't buy class. You just know that anyone who was REALLY wealthy wouldn't be collecting their own kids from school; they'd have the chauffeur do it...
Nah, REALLY welthy sprogs would either be borders or educated at home by a private tutor.
Quite
derestrictor said:
<A load of stuff>
When you do find the right drugs to sell let me know, I want a V8 Chelsea tractor as well! I’ve only seen a couple of “super cars” since I moved here and all of them where in the city and not dropping children off at school. These must be bloody prosperous areas of the city.
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