You wouldn't think an empty crisp packet would have much value would you,but it was invaluable to my neighbour one night.Back in the days when carburettors were more common than fuel injection,he found out just before he was due to collect his daughter from night school,that his car wasn't running at all right.Because I was known as a Mr.Fixit (bodger) he turned up on my doorstep,panicking.Together we nailed the problem as being a split diaphragm in the Stromberg carburettor.Of course,everyone has a spare one of these in their tool kit.Don't they? No,neither did we.In a curious,and fortunate,twist of fate I'd recently read about a chap having the exact same problem on his way home at night.And how he'd cured it with a crisp packet.You can imagine the look my neighbour gave me when I asked if he had a crisp packet or cling film.Funny time for a sandwich...Still,he knew me well enough to humour me and fetched an old packet of Walkers.I fitted it in place of the knackered diaphragm and he fired up the engine,which ran beautifully,for an old vauxhall.And off he went to get his daughter.Ideally,you'd get the problem sorted soon as,but that car ran fine for about three months before he got round to it.Might be an occasional series here,you never know.

It's funny how inanimate objects have a nasty knack of bringing you down to earth.I'm currently driving a very elderly Rover 420,diesel.And I'm very pleased with it;or I was.I've used the car virtually every day without a hint of trouble,and there's the rub;you get lulled into a confidence that is just waiting to be shattered.Mine was when the gearbox seized because a bearing in the final drive broke and jammed the works,so to speak.Because the shaft from the gearbox into the clutch wasn't turning,although the clutch was,it didn't do a lot for said clutch and so there I was on the side of a freeway with no drive.Accolades have to go to Directline who,via their breakdown insurance, got me picked up and transported back home.But real praise and truly felt gratitude must go to gorgeous Wendy,my boss, who ran me round and organised Directline for me when my mobile let me down.Wendy,take a bow!

I always have a little laugh when I remember the episode when dad and I decided to build (rebuild) our garage.The original was a rickety affair of asbestos panels,definitely a danger to health before, and definitely after I rammed some car or other through its doors.So we decided on one of those pre-cast concrete structures;concrete panels of various sizes which slot and lock together ingeniously to make a surprisingly substantial building.However,in the early,inexperienced stage of the build,I knocked a few panels over and guess what,concrete doesn't take too well to that sort of abuse.So now we're down a few panels which meant the garage was either going to be very draughty or have a door where it'd be no use at all,ie. the roof.One phone call later to the manufacturer meant we could go and pick up the new panels that afternoon.The guy on the phone didn't sound fazed by me breaking the panels,seems it happened a fair bit.So dad and I jumped in my Citroen GS,a pretty red one with a faded patch on the bonnet, which no-one could explain,and went off to Bootle near Liverpool.When we got there we loaded up with about five panels and a few other bits and pieces.Of course,the rear of the GS sank lower and lower as we piled the gear in,which prompted the guys at the yard to suggest that we might be overloading the car just a tad.By the time we'd finished, the GS's rear end was inches off the ground,and the car was looking very sorry for itself.Everyone stood around and watched as these two maniacs climbed back into a car which now looked as if it was set to blast into orbit.Grinning,I started the engine and let Citroen's finest do its stuff.Within seconds,the little car had hoisted itself up level and to its normal ride height and off we went.Heck,I love technology;but I think I repeat myself !

Talking about over-engineering,which we weren't right now I know,and how you don't see many Mercedes broken down at the road-side,I know a chap who doesn't worry when his Merc conks out,he gets me to sort it! And we're talking real trivial stuff,like pumping up a tyre.Now that's what I call crust;or me being too soft.

Just remembered something else about the GS when the fan belt snapped.The car actually restarted and ran while we were up in the Lakes and got us home to Liverpool,some ninety miles,in lashing rain and lights on without any charge going to the battery.Course it timed its expiry perfectly,just as we arrived outside the parents' home.That hasn't happened to me for,ooh ages.Bout four years ago actually,when my late dad's AX snapped its cam-belt just as I was backing it up my path.Well,there's only one thing that happens then and driving isn't it! You basically empty your bank account and hand the wodge over to a grease monkey to sort the damage,which is extensive,believe me.