Well, while you just might be a redneck but I am one. At least as of last Sunday I am. Together with dad and his girlfriend Bas and I attended and drove a old-timer cruise of about eighty kilometers. We had the pleasure of driving dads nineteen seventy-five Triumph TR6, a genuine British sport scar. Over the entire day I can think of only two things which were not that great. Okay, counting the weather it might be three, but that's it. First thing was the clutch of the car which is unbelievably heavy to operate to begin with and has a pretty short stay-or-go distance so this took some getting used to by yours truly. After a couple of small burnouts I got the hang of it I could read and write with the car, downshifting while blipping the throttle, etc. What a joy to drive that little car is. The other thing was the fact that it's a convertible which obviously means that it has no roof ... (doh). People who know me will instantly see where the problem part in that fact comes from. From above to be precise, and it has a name too: the sun. Normally I'm not even outside for more than half an hour when the sun is there too so my upper body and especially my neck got an overload of sunlight to endure. Here I was, outside for the entire, pretty hot, day and driving a convertible nicely in the sun. To be honest while we were driving around it wasn't even that bad out there though when we returned home, roofs closed due to a certain amount of water falling from the skies (as if they had heard me up there ;-), the damage to my neck and arms was clearly visible and even when writing this it's still easy to see just where my t-shirt stopped and the skin begins. You might think that this was the last time ever I'm going to drive a convertible again, but your mistaken: I'm going to do this again as soon as possible and as often as possible because I absolutely loved each second of driving that British roofless car. Lovely!