I Found My People -- 1970 Mg Midget "kimbo"

At 62 years old, Jim finally set out to do something he’d always dreamed of—restore a classic car.

During Michigan’s 2020 lockdown, his friend Dale sold him a 1970 MG Midget for a steal. It wasn’t perfect, but that was never the goal. Jim wanted a car he could drive, not polish. With a bit of grit, a few friends, and plenty of trial and error, he got the little Midget running again, named it Kimbo, and hit the road.

Jim met Matt and Jon from MARS through a random Facebook Marketplace meet-up. Jon saw Jim's car sitting in the garage and ended up talking to him about MGs for the next three hours in the driveway. This is where Jim first learned about MARS and was instantly invited to get involved.

Now, Jim’s one of the most active members—always showing up with a grin, a story, and a ready-to-drive attitude. From his longest drive yet in Kimbo for the MARS Rally (and driving the rally), to trips to Mad Dogs and Englishman, and even stepping in last-minute as a co-driver on RHR1k, Jim has consistently shown up and contributed, perfectly complementing the MARS spirit: keep it simple, keep it running, and drive more.

The TTAC Creators Series tells stories and amplifies creators from all corners of the car world, including culture, dealerships, collections, modified builds and more.

A transcript, summarized by AI and edited by a human staffer, is below.

[Image: YouTube/Michigan Automotive Relic Society]

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Transcript:

Everybody likes this car. It gets a lot of smiles, and I get a lot of smiles driving it. So many people come up and tell me their grandma or brother used to have one, and how much fun they had. I always tell them the same thing: it’s a fun car, not a fast car. A lot of people ask how fast it goes or how much horsepower it has, but that’s not what it’s about. It’s a British touring car, built for curvy roads and just enjoying the drive.

I keep most of my memories of this car in a book. A friend of mine, Dale, who I’ve known for 40 years, brought it up from Sarasota, Florida in 1979 and put it in a garage. Apparently it came up here in a U-Haul with five of his buddies loading it in sideways. I didn’t see it, but that’s how it arrived.

I kept asking Dale if he’d ever do anything with it. He’s an only child, so he doesn’t part with things easily. Eventually he moved back to Fremont, Colorado, and the car got buried in the garage again. When he needed the space, we dug it out together. I asked again if he was ever going to fix it. He said no and then asked if I wanted it. I said yes immediately. He told me ten dollars, so I told him to get in the house and grab the title before he changed his mind. And that’s how it became mine.

It didn’t run and was a complete mess. I’d never done a full restoration before, but I’d always wanted to. I’d worked on my own cars and helped my friends restore theirs, and spent years looking for the right one. Then this car fell into my lap.

When I started taking the motor out, my friends asked why I needed a hoist and where the other half of the engine was. I told them I was new at this. One of my buddies has a ’70 Challenger—beautiful car—that he’s had redone three times, but you can’t touch it. I can touch this one. So during lockdown I started working in the garage every day and learned more about cars than I ever expected.

I decided to name the car Kimbo. Kimbo was Dale’s wife, who has since passed away. She hated the car when he had it, so the name seemed perfect. I’d always walk into their house and she’d say, “Hey Jimbo,” and I’d say, “Hey Kimbo,” and that stuck. She was a fun person.

With everything I’ve been through in my life, all the health issues and challenges, it all goes away when I get in this car. That’s magic. This is the most fun car I’ve ever owned.

I was once at a car show and a guy asked if I needed parts. He told me he had a whole car for three hundred dollars, so I drove over with a trailer and picked it up. It came with two hardtops, including one from an MGB, which didn’t fit my car. I listed it on Facebook, and Matt and Jon reached out. They came over, bought it, saw the car, and told me I was their kind of guy. Suddenly I had more friends who understood this kind of fun.

I could tell stories all day. The Mad Dogs and Englishmen show at Gilmore was incredible. These are the kind of people I want to spend time with.

John kept telling me to drive it more, so I started venturing farther. I had an old generator rebuilt twice and that warning light on the dash never went out. John said to switch to an alternator. I finally did, and it fixed everything. Now I can drive it as much as I want. He also convinced me to keep the original spoke wheels and paint them black, and he was right—they look great.

I love going to shows, talking to people, and hearing their stories. These folks talk my talk and walk my walk. I didn’t restore this car so it could sit in the garage.

Before the first start, I kept wondering if it would run after all the time and money I had put in. The hood was still off, and we finally turned the key in April. It fired right up. That moment was huge. Not everyone can tear a car down and then get it back together and working. I put a lot of time, work, and pride into this car, and that’s what it gives you—pride.

Come on now, look at this. It’s classic. When I saw that old rabbit’s foot, I knew I had to have it. Nobody even knows what that is anymore. I love it.