Van Man

Greeting card – Van Man

“Keep her lit.”


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Greeting card – Van Man

“Keep her lit.”

The Card

  • Original illustration hand-drawn then digitally finished
  • Printed locally in Sligo, Ireland
  • Printed on A6 300gsm card stock
  • Supplied with a brown kraft-fleck envelope
  • Packaged in a protective cellophane sleeve (yeah, I know; you can choose to order this item without it – will you?)
  • Blank inside for your own message
  • No, you don’t get the pen.


Shipped via standard post. Irish orders should arrive through your letterbox within 2-4 business days (Please refer to average shipping times for orders outside of the Republic of Ireland). Sent in a hard backed envelope to ensure it reaches you in prime condition.


The illustration was an homage to two of the finest vehicles I ever owned, perhaps the finest I will ever have owned. Definitely the most unroadworthy rigs I will have ever owned. Both were the 1982, 1.4 litre Mitsubishi L300 model.

The first I exchanged for three days labouring. The body and pillars were predominantly car-bog and cardboard. Maybe she lasted two years. The second I found abandoned on the side of the highway up towards Noosa in Queensland. I couldn’t believe it – same make, same model, same year… same colour, that filthy rich burgundy. An old bloke had owned it since new and sold it to some young buck who had it only for six months during which time he flogged it so hard he’d blown a hole through the side of the engine block. There she lay immobilised, traumatised, on the highway north opposite the stretching sands between Sunshine and Sunrise Beach, lacerated by the sandy and salty trade winds, with the peeling County Council sticker on the windscreen that read something like, “Move this piece of crap or we’ll tow it”.

I managed to find the tool who broke her, gave him a dollar and got it signed over. Months spent putting in a new engine, steering, tyres, detailing the interior, blacking the windows, fitting a wooden single bed and glueing a carpet of two-inch shagpile black-and-silver fur over the walls, doors and ceiling. She gurgled happily away gobbling bitumen up and down the east coast of Australia for the next few years before we sadly parted ways in Tasmania. Her name was Juanita.