Having not considered he’d ever noticed them, you can imagine my surprise when my brother-in-law suggested he pop round to polish my headlights.
Say what ?
Well, says he, I noticed the other other day your car headlights looked kind of cloudy.
Now, I admit the lacklustre puddles of light that lately seemed to stop short a foot in front of the car had me perplexed. I’d been inclined to blame my failing eyeballs.
But, the old b-i-l knew better and had now apparently bought some special “headlight polish” to fix the problem.
I might have been skeptical, but there was that time my car simply stopped dead on the wrong side of Goondiwindi (Gundi as the locals know it) and the NSW-Qld border.
There were no mobiles then, or at least none that would easily fit in the boot of a beige Cortina.
So with the aid of a cleft stick and a passing motorist someone from the nearest garage was prevailed upon to attend.
After a cursory look at the engine he’d drawled: “It will be the harmonic balancer love, you’ll have to stay the night in Gundi.”
Honestly, I thought he was having a lend of me.
Really? It’s not the one of the chakras of my radiator aura, I’d sniped.
Lucky he didn’t leave me there.
So, I was more than willing to believe in headlight polish.
And, it turned out to be very illuminating.
What’s it called, this special headlight stuff, I wondered, once more able to dazzle more than the smallest rodent.
Toothpaste, says he with a grin, the enwhitening kind.