Why that car? My cousin was slightly amused at the sight of my 2004 Ford Taurus SES. A rental car seemingly loaded with penny-pinching mediocrity and cut corners. An unusual choice for the holidays. It had made the long journey from Northwest Georgia to Jewish Florida in a day’s time. The leather was cheap, but functional. The buttons were cheap, but functional. The price bought it for was very cheap…
Six hours to showtime. We have 58 vehicles and 1 motorcycle for today’s sale. It will be a very interesting day between the first dealer conversation and the last car that rolls (or gets pushed) through the lane. We’re going to be managing an on site sale for a large financial institution that is most definitely not in the car business. Their business is the money business. They will demand 59 checks in hand within 24 hours, and these vehicles must help keep their books healthy for the end of year bonuses.
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There are some cars that no one will appreciate… but the owners. A bad brand name. Fatal and expensive defects from times past. Even a body style made of a designer’s frump can turn a brilliant vehicle into a showroom relic. This week I majored in buying unloved cars. Seven cars. Seven sins. More than likely seventy-seven plus days on the pavement.
I’m not the ‘new’ guy at TTAC. When someone starts talking to me about their 2010 C-Class or A8, my instinct is to find some darts, get a beer, and ignore the conversation. Most new cars really take the fun out of driving, and they cost way too much compared with almost everything else on the road. But there is one time during the year where ‘new’ makes me smile. That would be Black Friday. Here’s what I got.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Fat Chance! Beauty is sitting in a barclounger leather recliner and watching the world go past at 85 miles an hour. Of course in this 1985 Lincoln Town Car with 45k, the speedometer also happens to give out it’s all too shaky geriatric needle at 85 mph. So anything beyond that I consider ‘warp speed’ as I drive through North Georgia listening to some old time crooners from the Garden State. Speaking of that, did I mention this thing was bought new in two Jerseys? That would be Jersey City, New Jersey. As in Frank Sinatra’s hometown… the king of swing and the purveyor of all things cool. Well, that would actually be Hoboken. But close enough. Driving a Mafia and Spock sized coffin like this Lincoln is definitely a leap to my childhood in North Jersey. A friend of mine’s Dad actually became the head of the Gambino family for a short time. He’s thankfully only been in Federal prison twice so far. Then there was the house that burned down on a lot and remained a charred remnant for twenty years. A healthy reminder of who was in charge of our local government’s services.
It’s heartbreaking. To see a major company that literally carried a healthy portion of America’s heartland go up in Euro-flames. I remember the beauty of it. The 1990’s minivans that completely obliterated their competition. LH sedans that were state of the art for their time. Cloud cars that had more power and road feel than their American brethren. Neons that were so good that even Toyota was jealous. Believe it or not, I still think the talent base of Chrysler is there. But to get it out…
The old Saab was virtually perfect. 1988 900 model. Turbo. Convertible. It was as if the vehicle had been taken through a 21 year time warp right to my lot. The prior owner had become tired of frequent $85/hr fixes and now needed a four door instead of two (in Orwellian speak). He traded it straight up for a 1990 Volvo 240 that had also been cared for so that part of my work was done. But what next? This beautiful red Saab had only 150k original miles and had plenty of life left thanks to a healthy maintenance regimen and the use of OEM parts. The owner was downright wonderful and it was now my responsibility to make sure this level of care carried forward to the new owner… and hopefully beyond.
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I always tell folks that when I retire from my work as an auto auctioneer, I’ll be walking. They think I’m joking. Fat chance. I currently waste anywhere from ten to fifteen hours a week on the open road. Now given I’m not stuck in an office building or bathed underneath florescent lights. But all that road time is still about ten to fifteen percent of my waking hours inside a car. All that time. I’m on the radio, the phone. Just sitting. Driving. Passing the time. I could opt for far shorter commutes. But I have three nagging issues.
I keep on having this one strange dream. I open my front door. The driveway is completely gone. The street is gone. In fact, there isn’t a single piece of asphalt anywhere. What was once the road is now just grass with a few basketball and tennis courts on the far side. There’s a softball field hidden in seclusion along with a volleyball court, a small library, and an arts and crafts center. While wandering even further, past several other asphalt-free houses, I finally come onto a single road. I see about a half dozen vehicles nearby available for everyone. All of them old, but in good running order. Is this a good thing?
I don’t know how they did it. Nobody’s crazy about a Mercury. Suzuki is still a one niche car company, and most Mitsubishis look like Chryslers that were drawn by stoned orangutans. Does anyone want a Volvo? No, you can’t have one made before 1995. How about a Dodge? A Ram? A Tonka? Oh, you think Chrysler WILL survive the year. I beg to differ. Speaking of which, who wants to bet that GM pulls the plug on one more brand before 2010 is done. Any bets? Any five brands will do . . .
It’s heartbreaking. To see a major company that literally carried a healthy portion of America’s heartland go up in Euro-flames. I remember the beauty of it. The 1990’s minivans that completely obliterated their competition. LH sedans that were state of the art for their time. Cloud cars that had more power and road feel than their American brethren. Neons that were so good that even Toyota was jealous. Believe it or not, I still think the talent base of Chrysler is there. But to get it out…
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I used a 15-year-old Ranger to pick up some AMG wheels this evening. The ride was . . . pleasant. Light jazz on the radio. Engine and stick shift in good working order. Intermittent wipers and ABS for the rain. Alloy wheels for show. Did I mention this thing is 15 years old? Anyhow, my mind wandered into the world of ‘what if’s’. What if someone decides to buy this truck and keep it for another 7 to 10 years? It has only 150k and the prior owner took good mechanical care of it. Paint’s cheap. Parts are even cheaper. So…
I hate my *^%%! Mercedes. A year-and-a-half ago , I bought a 2002 S500 for $12,600 at a public auction. $300 of a/c work and a detail later, it looked like a million dollars. But it drove like a big fat Camry with a big fat engine. My mechanic swooned at all the gizmoids. I groaned and drove everything but that car. Everyone likes it. No one can afford it. I’m getting tired of looking at it. So . . .
What’s the first thing you notice when you step inside a car? Some folks look at the seats. Others will set their eyes on the carpet or the far side of the dashboard. For me… it’s smell. I swear at times I can actually tell what auction a car came from given the smell on the inside. Brands also give forth their own odorous emanations. Fur starters . . .
Ever have someone test drive your car and then seriously piss you off? Lowballers. Nickelshitters. Liars and scum aplenty who think they have the right to NASCAR your car? Phony little fruitcakes who drive to your place in a complete POS-mobile and then whine about a loose cupholder? Unfortunately, I’ve seen it all in the retail world and as an auto auctioneer… and I’ve created a few healthy coping mechanisms.
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