The man’s wife, an actress who looked Scandinavian, called it “The Monster.”
“You’ve come for the Monster,” she said.
“Yes, I have,” I said. Meanwhile trying to figure out why she would call one of Pininfarina’s most beautiful Ferraris– the GTC/4– “The Monster.”
I say “most beautiful” but the Italians, with their ever more refined eyes for body shapes (both women and cars) called it “the hunchback with clown lips” because it had an ever so slight rise to the center of the rear deck lid, and up front there was a rubber bumper surround. Neither feature hurt the car’s looks but you know the Italians. They wanted things just right or they would find something to criticize.
I found out later on, once I took the car, it ate money. It wasn’t the cookie monster, but the money monster.
During its short-lived original heyday, 1971-72, the C4 was the more expensive cousin to the Daytona which shared some of the same parts, including the block. But the Daytona had its gearbox out back for better weight distribution and was more of a brutal sports car. The C4, with power steering and a gearbox connected to the engine, was I always said “a gentleman’s sports car” built, I imagined, “for the executive in Milano who wanted a fast sports car so when his secretary said she would go with him to spend the weekend in Lake Como he could get there in a hurry at 100 mph before she changed her mind. ”
But I am getting ahead of myself. First the joys of the discovery.
The way I came across the car is that I often visited a mechanic in West Hollywood named Al Axelrod. Axelrod had a lot of movie folk customers and one of them—a movie producer up in the Hollywood Hills–had brought this dark green Ferrari down from his hilltop house atop Mulhullond drive for its annual check-up.
Actually the guy never drove the car but periodically would get fired up to get the car going. And then it wouldn’t run because it was neglected for so long. Because it was a heavy car, you could get it down from the Hollywood Hills on gravity alone but if it wasn’t running right, it wouldn’t make it up the steep roads back to its garage.
I saw spider webs on it and asked ‘Is this car for sale?”
Axelrod said “I’m trying to buy it” and revealed he had been turned down in his first offer because the seller, a movie producer, wanted $25,000.
At the time a pristine C/4 was gong for around $45,000.
So I forgot about it. Then a few months later I am in Santa Monica, passing an exotic car lot and I see the same Ferrari out on the lot, while there are two pristine C4s in the showroom. The ones in the showroom are going for maybe $45,000 but, for the tatty green one out on the lot, they said “Make us an offer.” Well the first thing was that I knew what the owner wanted, and when they weren’t looking I copied down the owner’s registration info out of the glove compartment. (Hey, all’s fair in love and war…) I then wrote his office and they called me back in response.
“I want $25,000” the owner, a movie producer of those kinds of movies which feature scantily clad ladies and runaway slaves said. I replied, “Look they are treating your car terrible over there, letting it get all dirty while they shine up the nice ones inside. And I’d love to pay your price but the fact is I only have $16,000 so let’s say we split the difference and I pay $19,000?”
He went for it. The beauty of it was, that I had coincidentally sold my 308GTS a few months before for $29,000, so I had a lot of bargaining room left, which I didn’t have to use.
I went to his office right at the end of the “Strip” part of Sunset Strip and sat and looked at movie posters while waiting to see him. We talked and I handed him the check. I could tell, by the number of employees and the projects he was working on, that 19 grand would pay for expenses about up to lunch.
I went up to his house to pick up the car. That’s when the wife, who looked vaguely like some Swedish film star, said her famous monster line and pointed vaguely toward the garage. Now from past experience in buying cars, I knew before I even arrived that this could be one of those “you can have the car but we can’t find the key” deals.
This could happen because the owner had a lot of cars, or maybe even the dealer who last had the car on consignment made it get lost so the owner would sell it to them later.
Not to worry. Since I had been through this scenario before, so I arrived with a flatbed tow truck. I laid out the chain, attached it to the bumper and began to yank it out.
Now it turned out that the car had a steering wheel lock so, without the key to unlock the wheel, it began aiming the car toward the house. When it came to rest against the house, I kept pulling and the house began to cut a salmon colored groove in the car and the car began to cut a green groove in the house. Finally, when the car was about half way along the house, the Latina maid found the key and I unlocked the steering wheel. I was not about go give up on this treasure, fearful that at any moment the producer would realize, “Hey, all I have to do is detail this car and it’s worth twice as much.”
I took it down the hill to LeBrea Ave. where Bruno, my Italian mechanic, regarded it dubiously. I left the car and three days later Bruno called.
“Hey, it’s gotta no compression in two cylinders.” Bad news. I knew a four cam V-12 was one helluva expensive engine to rebuild. “But we try, we shim the valves, we work on it,” he said.
Two days later he called “We got compression. You come, and pick it up.”
Now these particular Italians ran things like in some back alley in Salerno. You didn’t get an estimate. You didn’t get a bill. You just left your car and when you came back, you fanned out some $100 bills and hoped they wouldn’t hurt you too bad as they plucked out of your hand the number of C-notes they needed.
Bruno wanted me to take it up and down LaBrea at speed. Now this is, you understand, a road full of traffic, with a stop light every couple blocks. But Bruno was a racing mechanic. He could only tell if a Ferrari was running right if he could hear all 12 cylinders in full song.
I dutifully I drove a couple blocks away, and ran it by their shop at 6,000-7000 rpm. I did this three or four times and finally saw him give me the OK sign. Go with God, my man.
I couldn’t stand the International Harvester Green paint for long and painted it Ferrari red. I kept the unique tartan cloth upholstery inserts because it was so contrary to what you expected in a Ferrari. I mean plaid—who was I, Jackie Stewart?
I drove the car for the next three years . It only broke down a couple of times, once when a throttle cable snapped. I managed to tie a wire to it and accelerate by pulling on the wire from the driver’s window. Once it overheated. And once, early on, it developed a profuse leak between two of the six sidedraft twin throat Weber carburetors whereupon I discovered a design flaw—when it had such a leak, it would drip gas on hot exhaust headers immediately below (I wondered how many C4’s had burned up with this arrangement).A Swiss mechanic at the same event merely spliced another hose to get a new section to replace the leaking one.
My wife at the time, who was only 4’10”, couldn’t reach the pedals so, though she liked the idea of driving a Ferrari, she never drove it.
The car left my life as many a good car goes-through divorce. She wanted it as part of her settlement and since I could sell it to her for the going price at the time—three times what I paid for it– and not have to pay taxes on the profit (no taxes between spouses) I went for it.
I think about that C4 sometimes. I miss it. In fact, it’s not hard to find, I just go on google and type in the serial number and there she is, on one used car lot or another. There’s those fond memories, like driving down PCH toward Malibu, taking those big sweepers at 100 mph. It had the best exhaust note of any Ferrari made for the street.
But I couldn’t own it now. Bruno closed his shop. Going to a Ferrari dealer of the present day and hearing prices like $100 an hour for labor would give me a heart attack. And parts? Hey, give me a break, they only made roughly 500 of them. There aren’t any body parts left over except from wrecked ones.
Fortunately the engine was used in the first 400GTs, when they were still carburetored so it’s theoretically possible to get engine parts from European dealers, the 400GTs never been legal U.S. models.
I’ll bet that movie producer misses it too. He told me when I brought the check to his office that he had he bought the car when he went to the Cannes Film Festival. He wanted something snazzy to drive around, up and down the Croissette, and down to St. Tropez.
He did that. His mistake was bringing it home…
Wallace Wyss is the author of ten car books, the latest of which is SHELBY: The Man, The Cars, the Legend
Great story. Interesting that the author mentions selling his 308 for $29K before buying this car. The 308 is still a $29K car while these are, what, $75 to $125K, depending on condition?
That is the car that the 1975 Chevrolet Monza 2+2 fastback was styled after.
And the front view is that of a Saab Sonnet.
Blasphemy!
Blasphemy?
I thank you. So does Copernicus.
Great story :-)!
I also had to look twice, the it looked like a Monza, but not quite.
Just a little comment on to green color. There may have been green IHs, or Farmalls, but the tractor brand that is associated with green is John Deere.
What years did you own the car?
“Going to a Ferrari dealer of the present day and hearing prices like $100 an hour for labor would give me a heart attack.”
Wow. Is this piece 20 years old? The Toyonda dealer is about $110 per hour in any Metro I know. Any decent independent mechanic isn’t going to twist a wrench on an exotic for under a buck an hour, and I haven’t seen an Authorized Ferrari dealer under $80, since the early 90s.
“But Bruno was a racing mechanic. He could only tell if a Ferrari was running right if he could hear all 12 cylinders in full song.”
The more I read the more I think this story was written in 1982. If old Bruno couldn’t figure out if the car was running correctly by revving it and a quick drive around the block, I hope he just rebuilt every system on that car. Or perhaps, he just wanted to go out and blast around in a Ferrari that wasn’t his.
At the risk of sounding like the jaded old bastard that I am, I realize this is Saturday filler material, but couldn’t it at least be better than the boilerplate “I bought my toy, and it cost me some money and I gave it to my ex” story? You can read that story on any enthusiast board, or hear it live in person from every one of your friends who ever bought an exotic and didn’t know what they were doing.
Have an interesting car story where the owner finds a stash in the dash of the DEA auction car, or the stripper girlfriend gets busted doing 185 in it, or the wife sprays it with lighter fluid and sets it on fire, or the driveshaft drops to the ground at 90 MPH, or you outran the helicopter, or you got the tires shot out by the cops who were chasing you. Something. Anything.
As I mentioned on the Volvo 142 thread, I once found a small packet of what I believe was heroin stashed behind the dashboard of a used Volvo that I bought. The body was clean. The previous owner, I guess not so much.
Exactly Ronnie,
I guess I just feel that TTAC should be about the outrageous, the gut feel, the je ne sais quoi of of loving cars. And what happens when you do.
While I accept this is a business, and, as such, trends to the LCD, it doesn’t mean I’m going to accept it.
Those willing to accept mediocrity, shall get it. I only wish to move the bell curve.
Agree totally Porshespeed. This piece is boring, self indulgent and probably exaggerated. That description of the flat-bed is just silly, they don’t work like that, a winch will just drag it up regardless of lock.
And the italian mechanic -“Hey, it’s gotta no compression in two cylinders.” wtf? Wasn’t this a line from Super Mario Brothers?
My dad and uncle raced GT cars. At one point in the ’70s, their car burned down at the side of the track. Since they didn’t have enough cash to fix it that season, they were out of luck.
Later that summer, they were driving along and saw two motocross bikes for sale. Hey, why not? They didn’t really know about motocrossing, but it was something to do. So they bought the bikes.
Since they lived on a (former) farm, they had a lot of space, some of which, thanks to some earthmoving equipment, was soon turned into a motocross track. They and their friends had motocross races on a fairly regular basis.
At one point, my uncle put his bike down and got hurt pretty badly. He was OK in the end, but couldn’t ride anymore. What to do? They couldn’t leave him out. So he drove the pickup, and the rest of them rode their bikes.
They were an interesting bunch in their reckless youth…
Porschespeed,
It’s ironic that some of the interesting things about cars are the business decisions, the successes and blunders, that are behind the cars we love and loathe. Outside of the off-the-charts cool factor of human designed self powered vehicles, the car industry itself can be fascinating.
There are few more global or more competitive industries, or ones that rely on so many other industries.
That being said, and though the business crisis the domestic automakers are experiencing was an impetus to my own small contributions to the field of automotive writing, ultimately I like cars more than inside baseball about the car biz, fascinating though it may be.
I like what you said about the je ne sais quoi side of automobiledom.
The car writers that I’ve admired over the years, like LJK Setright, didn’t confine themselves to 0-60 times, how many cylinders, and wottleshedo. There’s a reason why car movies like Cannonball Run, Smokey & The Bandit, and H.B. Halicki’s masterful Gone In 60 Seconds are more popular than Winning and LeMans, as there is a reason why most car enthusiasts consider the former films to be guilty pleasures and the latter ones to be true art. The fun stuff is, well, fun.
I even wrote up a 3000 word piece on a canvas tote bag that I’ve had autographed by >60 car celebrities (and others) over the years working the auto show press previews. It wasn’t exactly fluff, but I deliberately was trying to write something lighter, more towards humor and less towards analysis than most of what I submit here. Actually, it might have been too light because Ed didn’t run it. I’m not complaining (or lobbying either – Ed’s the editor so it’s his call). I had fun writing it and it’s a nice documentation of a personal artifact so I don’t think I wasted my time. If you’d like to read it, drop me an email. rokem@netzero.net.
You want beautiful? Be it cars or women, you are gonna pay brother!
“You want beautiful? Be it cars or women, you are gonna pay brother!”
Amen, bro’! Many German beauties are delightful to the eye, but heavy in the tail… Discuss.
This is hilarious, talk about serendipity and coincidence. I actually read this piece and everything else the author has published recently at VeloceToday.com not more than two days ago, and thought, “This guy should write for TTAC.” But I guess someone else was faster mentioning his name. Will we se more of Wallace Wyss? He should fit like hand in glove…
I see a resemblance to Dick Teague’s AMX/3, particularly the rear of the car, though I think the AMX/3 is a nicer looking design. The AMX/3 concept was first shown in early 1970, while the 365 GTC/4 didn’t get its first public appearance until the spring of 1971.
“I see a resemblance to Dick Teague’s AMX/3, particularly the rear of the car, though I think the AMX/3 is a nicer looking design.”
I see your purchase of the Volvo put you on the road to ruin. You’d have to snorkle up a whole lotta “China White” to come to that conclusion.
Like they in Hebrew, im tam v’rei’ach, ain l’hitvakei’ach, you can’t argue about taste and smell, everyone has their own aesthetic.
I think the rear 3/4 views are very similar, as is the character/belt line that goes down the side and arcs over the wheel well. Yes, the proportions are different, the AMX/3 is midengined and the Ferrari has a more traditional layout, but to my eye there’s a similarity.
Let me ask you, do you think the front end of the Tesla Model S looks like Maserati’s current face? Tesla’s design head thinks they look nothing alike (while making a shit-eating grin).
Awesome story. Beautiful car.
And I haven’t read many stories like these that involve Ferraris and Hollywood directors. I don’t think they are a dime a dozen, even in the various forums.
Thanks!
Now these particular Italians ran things like in some back alley in Salerno. You didn’t get an estimate. You didn’t get a bill. You just left your car and when you came back, you fanned out some $100 bills and hoped they wouldn’t hurt you too bad…
Who knows how “real” the story is? But it’s probably not too far off. Or at least it’s typical of the Italian way. Obviously Ferrari is a different animal, altogether, but in my younger more experimental days I brought home a second hand Fiat 124 Spyder. Beautiful red car with wooden dash, analog dials and wood steering wheel. I remember it having a DOHC engine that quickly blew up (timing belt). The independent garage suggested that it’d take about two weeks, which turned into well over a month and a half of rebuild. Could have been my fault, since I probably misunderstood from the beginning as the mechanics only spoke broken English. But, I figured it was just part of the Italian sports car deal, and it was, happily, a step up in both civility and reliability from my previous MG Midge.
“Those willing to accept mediocrity, shall get it. I only wish to move the bell curve.”
Just make sure you don’t try to take that curve at too high a speed, PorscheGuy! You’ll end up in the weeds, as many a driver of ass end-heavy cars has sadly found out.
Only if they let off on the gas. The oversteer that ass-engined Nazi slot cars (cf. P.J. O’Rourke) experience is of the trailing throttle variety.
I’m no physicist, but I believe what happens is that when you let off on the gas, some weight is transferred to the forward wheels, so the rear end loses grip (and with all that weight hanging behind the axle, once the car starts to drift the polar moment of inertia tends to keep the ass end swinging). It’s the reverse of why RWD cars theoretically accelerate better than FWD cars do. Under acceleration, weight is transferred to the rear of the car, giving the driving wheels more grip.
GeneralMalaise,
Don’t assume that I own the the ‘ass engine nazi slot car’.
(as I neither own them, tune them , or like them.)
If you like old Ferraris, google up Tom Yang. 10 yrs ago he bought a basket case 330 GT. The discouraging thing is that he has fixed, rebuilt/ replaced just about everything in the car and it still breaks. The car wont be reliable until he replaces Everything.