It was 1964. Great Britain was boring. And although the newfangled pop music was waking up the kids, their parents were so poor that they could only see in black and white.
Everyday cars were equally bland; yes, the Jaguar E-Type was a sensation and, yes, the Lotus Cortina was the stuff of pipe dreams, but our nation was driving around in humdrum three-box saloons.
Meanwhile, our American cousins were hitting a peak period of car culture. Hot rodding was cool, muscle cars were burning rubber, and a new class of socalled pony car was sellingbig news as much for its fabulous looks and affordability in six-cylinder form as its power as a street-racing Shelby V8.
