I was driving the other day when I noticed the car you see up there, happily toodling along: a Morris Minor, and a convertible one, even! There are a few Minors in town that I’ve seen before – actually, just one, a Traveller version (the one with the woody station wagon body from the B-pillar back), and it has a Datsun engine, and I’ve gotten to drive it before, which was a treat. But this one was new to me, and I was absolutely delighted to see it on the road.
It looks to be in pretty good shape, except perhaps for that top, which doesn’t inspire much confidence considering the context of the rainy mess this area has been for the past few weeks. The convertible versions of the Minor were always a little odd because they retained the door window frames, which makes them look a bit more like a car with a massive sunroof.
Here, look at this tiny, verdant gentleman and his green lady friends having a picnic in what I’m guessing, based on the chromatic cues, is Greenland:
See? All the windows drop down, so you’re getting plenty of sky, it just comes very adequately framed.
The fit of that top just looks a bit janky and it’s hard to imagine it’s not flappy and leaky, but this thing is just so damn charming, who cares? This one appeared to be driving great and seems in fantastic and usable shape.
Whenever I think of the Minor, I can’t help but think of one particular story about the car, which I first wrote up so long ago, back in 2012. The story is about how Alec Issigonis, the man who designed not just the Minor but is better known for the iconic Mini, was looking at a nearly production-ready Minor right before the car was about to go into full production.
But something didn’t look right.
The car was his design, and here it was, real, in the metal right in front of him. But at that moment, seeing the car in person, he suddenly realized that something was off. The size and proportions weren’t quite right. He looked and looked, thought and (I like to imagine) paced around the car, and finally arrived at a conclusion. As Ray Newell tells us in his book, The Morris Minor:
“All the prototypes were 57 inches wide, the same width as the Morris Eight. Issigonis felt this was too narrow and so he ordered that one of the prototypes be sawn in half lengthways. The two halves were then moved apart and set up at different intervals. At 4 inches (10 cm) apart, Issigonis was satisfied.”
Yes, that’s right. Issigonis had one of the prototypes split down the middle, and separated the halves by four inches to widen the car. Now it was right.
That’s why the early Minors, the “low light” ones, have a couple of clues that tell you that this car was once bisected lengthwise, like a hot dog bun, or something. The most obvious clue was the front bumper, which had to be split in two and re-connected by means of a metal plate in the center to fill the newly-added four inches, which also had the socket for a starting crank.
Then there was that flat swage on the hood, which started off as just a decorative crease, but, being stretched, turned into a flat raised stripe, of sorts. Back in 2012 I mocked up what a pre-widened Minor may have looked like, but since The Old Site no longer shows images, I had to re-create it so you can see for yourself, because this is important, dammit:
See the difference? I think Issigonis made the right call, as the wider car I think does look better; I’m not certain if the track was changed or any suspension and chassis parts, or was it just the body? I think just the body. Still, that was a hell of a dramatic last-minute call.
Anyway, here’s to the champ who is still driving what looks like a ’60s-era Minor around town to this day!
Friend of mines father in HS had a Minor. The thing never moved from their garage. It was some long, long term project of his, down in the project stack of homebuilt tube amps, electric train sets, model boats, very old BSA motorcycles and other British eccentricities. We found it to be an ideal smoking lounge.
The driver is clearly trying to back over the picnicking Lilliputians, but they’ve stolen his mirrors, so he’s having a bad time of it.
Jason tends to wax poetic over mid-century advertising art, but that’s all conspicuously absent here. For good reason.
In 1960, when I was 6 years old, my dad bought a new Morris Minor 1000. I have fond memories of him “carving up” Laurel Canyon, driving from the San Fernando Valley to Hollywood, where he worked. He replaced it in 1961 with a new Lincoln Continental. (Talk about extremes…)
If a Morris Minor got promoted, might it be a Morris Major??
Or a Morris Adult.
It’s not so much a promotion as it is an older sibling:
https://live.staticflickr.com/4807/32229432648_9ced62af48_c.jpg
The best thing about the Moggy is that you could only get in Minor accidents.
You need to talk w/ John Voelcker about his family Minor which came over from England with them when he was a young lad (I believe aboard the QE2)
A good friend had a Morris Minor Wagon that I would race against with my 63 Bug. We were pretty evenly matched. I won most of the races, but not all. We both would lose to a neighbor who had a Model A Phaeton that was his dad’s. But we later learned his father had dropped a ’36 V-8 in. Perfect fit and a sleeper as it looked like just the basic phaeton.
When’s the last time you saw a man in a suit and tie having a picnic on the ground with 2 women?
Uh never.
Back in the 1960’s – when I was a wee lad.
even into the 70’s a tie was commonly worn in public, especially in mixed company. My father only took his tie off at the beach (and to my childhood shame, still wore his socks and wingtips with his swim trunks).
I think they started to diminish in the late 50’s, early 60’s as sport shirts became more common, but i think more men wore them everyday than not until the late 60s.
When I first started consulting in the early 90’s a suit and tie was mandatory. IBM, Deloitte and Touche and Anderson had very strict dress codes. It was a bit of a change for me coming from the chino’s and golf shirts of telecomland.
Between this and today’s SBSD, the Morris is celebrating a Minor victory on The Autopian.
Also: is it rolling on Vega wheels!?
I thought the same thing… We go for years without hearing anything about Morris Minors and then two items in rapid succession. Coincidence?
“the front bumper, which had to be split in two and re-connected by means of a metal plate in the center”
Sounds sturdy.
I once saw one of those have one of it’s front suspension/steering king pins (or what’s it called, some vertical hold things together thingamajig) come loose right in a busy intersection, making one front wheel “splat” out in a weird angle and that corner of the car hit the road.
Besides that unfortunate ability, they must have some other qualities, people appreciate, being in production from 1948 to 1970, and now a classic car you almost meet as often as a red MG B.
First time I ever heard of the Minor was from Dave Barry, of all people, who wrote that his dad had one, a “car so small that it was routinely stolen by squirrels.”
Family car when growing up — the station wagon one, at least till I was 14. Dad always kept cars at least 15 years when bought new, Mary Jane, (don’t laugh, he was innocent), lasted 18, and is probably still running in the Zimbabwe bush.
If the new owners sanded down the wood, which Dad did every five years.
When both me and my brother reached 6ft, and sister started complaining of the smell, the car had to go.
Next was a DS 21, first car he owned with a heater, five gears, reversing light, wipers with more than one speed, and indicators which did not pop out of the bodywork.
Plus carpets for the back.
New car smell did not last long, Dad managed to get it stuck crossing a ford, and it smelt like river evermore.
This postwar, austerity England. The gentleman sitting at the wheel of the Moggy doesn’t have a car of his own, but the chap entertaining the two ladies at the blanket has given him permission to bounce around and make motor noises with his mouth.
It might be time for a Morris Minor comeback, in post-Brexit austerity Britain.
When my wife and I got married, our wedding car was a minor convertible. It was really cool, but at the same time so janky! The window and door frames in place were weird and it was surprisingly difficult for my wife and I, both 6 foot tall, to get into the back seat through that tiny door, not helped at all by her dress.
Best color combo to, white with red interior. Didn’t get to take the top down for more than pictures because it rained (being England, that’s not a surprise to anyone)