160 down the driveway. In reverse.

Your uncle, pumpkin, has just yesterday achieved the pinnacle to which all Australian men aspire, but few manage to reach.

He bought a Monaro.

Now let it be said, punkling, that at some stage it's likely during your development and early childhood years that the fatal question will be posed to you. The question upon which alliances can be forged or shattered. The question that

Ford or Holden?

It's unfortunate that the answer to this question for you is, as with many other seemingly simple questions about your family, complicated.

You see, if one is in the United States, then one is morally obligated to align oneself with General Motors, on the grounds that your grandfather and great grandfather have had a deep and abiding relationship with that particular automaker. Having said that, your uncle Steve drives a Mustang.

In Australia, also through the association that your grandfather had in the motorsport arena, one is obligated to state that one is Ford, and more specifically that one barracks for Dick Johnson Racing.

But your uncle, pumpkin, just bought a Monaro.

In Barbados Blue.

With 2-inch straight through exhaust

And a 5.7 Litre V8.

It is, without a lie and beyond a shadow of a doubt,

Grouse, and it’s likely that it could perform the manoeuvre referenced in the title of this opus with little difficulty.

Love you.