So I was seven years old (EDIT:- No I wasn't, I was six. Elementary maths fail), and I wanted to be a car designer. Cool, OK, most kids my age wanted to be footballers, astronauts or pilots, and there were probably a few hopelessly precocious little bastards who wanted to be lawyers or realtors, but at least I had a direction in life.
But how to get started? Well, my Dad was the proud owner at that time of a Ford Cortina. I loved that car, it took me to awesome places like airshows and the seaside. Yes, that was it, before my eighth (EDIT:- Seventh) birthday I'd write to Ford and they'd almost certainly give me a job.
