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62                      AN EXILE OF THE MIND                                                                   STANDING IN FOR THE BEATLES                       63


                                                                                                                                           under the passenger seat, sealed
                                                                                                                                           with a large brass screw cap the size
                                                                                                                                           of a saucer. Checking the level was
                                                                                                                                           hard to see in the car’s dim interior.
                                                                                                                                           I was about to strike a match when I
                                                                                                                                           felt a hand on my shoulder and heard
                                                                                                                                           a voice shout, ‘Stop!’ I shamefacedly
                                                                                                                                           looked around, but there was not a
                                                                                                                                           soul to be seen.
                                                                                                                                              The  Right  Hon  offered  his
                                                                                                                                           services  as  chauffer  to  chug  along
                                                                                                                                           Canterbury roads at a top speed of
                                                                                                                                           45 miles per hour and wave royally
                                                                                                                                           to all and sundry. At a screening of
                                                                                                                                           The Yellow Rolls Royce the tourer,
                                                                                                                                           parked outside,  was  mobbed  by
                                                                                                                                           moviegoers believing  it had been
                                                                                                                                           placed there as a publicity stunt.
                                                                                                                                              The car, called Jennyvieve after
                                                                                                                                           Jane, and I were  very much  in
                                                                                                                                           demand to lead  Capping  Parades
                                                                                                                                           through Christchurch streets  with
                                                                                                                                           floats  of  many  guises  following  in
                                                                                                                                           our wake.  It was an opportunity
                                                                                                                                           for students every year to engage in
                                                                                                                                           mischievous pranks, bawdiness and
                                                                                                                                           cross dressing.  It  was later phased
                  Outside my flat opposite the old Student Union building.                            my  Post  Office  savings.  The  tourer  out as bills for damage by drunken
                                                                                                      was worth ten times more, without  students almost reached the level of
          polished. This beautifully restored  State-side  and reluctantly selling                    the spit and polish.                 the national debt.
          1924 Austin Tourer was for sale by the  his prized collection of vintage cars.                 The car almost blew up with me in    The  coffin,  just  as  popular,  was
          American commander of  Operation  The commander must have liked the                         it when I attempted one day to check  carried on the shoulders of protesting
          Deepfreeze in the Antarctic.         cut of my jib because this classic was                 the level of benzine, Kiwi for petrol.  students  to deliver petitions  and
            The commander was heading  bought with the meagre contents of                             The  fuel  tank  was  accessible  from  later rented  out to take them to
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