If You Could Ride Shotgun With Any Historical Figure, Who Would It Be And Why?

Hey race fans. It's a short week so I thought we'd have fun with today's Question of the Day. I am an unrepentant history nerd. I'm currently reading books about the Anglo-Saxons and the early medieval ages for fun. I have strong opinions on World War II tanks. Tuesday I wrote about Maria Teresa de Filippis, the first woman to race in an Formula 1 Grand Prix and all I could think was, I bet she was a great hang. 

Which brings me to today's question: you're riding shotgun on a drive with any historical figure, who's it going to be? Now, it's a small window of historical figures who know how to drive, I will admit, but let's assume all the explanations of internal combustion, slip-differentials, synthetic fibers and modern rubber manufacturing are already out of the way. Now it's just you, the historical figure, and the open road. They've got control of the conversation and the radio dial. Who do you choose? 

Listen, you probably shouldn't have heroes. George Orwell would almost certainly caution against it himself, but if I had to pick a hero it would be him. Most people are introduced to Orwell's writings in middle school with books like "Animal Farm" and "1984." His name is now an adjective, which is rich because he wasn't a big on needless parts of speech like adjectives. While I also came to Orwell through his books, it was his essay "Politics and the English Language" that changed my life. 

The guy fought against fascists in Spain and became disillusion with the Soviet Union so fast — being hunted by Communist hit squads will do that to a fella — he wrote "Animal Farm" at a time when other leftists were singing the USSR's praises. But it's the way the thought about what he wrote, and how he understood the power of language, captivated me from an early age. I'd wanted to be a writer my whole life, but when I read Orwell I felt like I knew what kind of writer I wanted to be.  

Not that I've lived up to that vision one iota on the car website where we (used to) swear in the headlines. I do keep his 6 Rules for Writing in a frame on my desk. Aspire to greatness no matter what you do, folks. 

It would be cool to hear about his youth serving in the Imperial Police in Burma, what it was like being homeless in Paris, his boring, tedious and heroic time in Spain and how he escaped the Communists. He didn't really have a history of being much of a driver and I couldn't find what car he drove, so something sedate. A cruiser. Nothing German though. A cushy Jaguar XJR, perhaps? 

Orwell died at age 46 in 1950 of complications associated with tuberculosis. So OK, we won't smoke any of his hand-rolled cigs. We'll just put on some jazz and he can recount his incredible life in detail as we drive off into the sunset. I don't want to tell him how right he was about everything. I just want to hear the old boy talk.