Last time I talked about some compilations of my experiences regarding trailered cars. This time I’d like to expound on some real life eyewitness happenings that includes trailered cars and others.
Way back in the late ‘70’s I had the urge to buy a convertible as a daily driver. I found a one-owner ’65 Olds Starfire, red with a white top and red leather interior. It was a solid car and ran great so I bought it. I drove it every day for a couple of years and I guess it was in 1981 or ’82 I decided to fix it up and use it for just cruising and car shows. By this time the original top had split at the ends of the seam that went over the back window and there were a couple small rust holes in the floor and some dents that I had lived with from the original owner. Plus the exhaust for the ’65 Starfire exited through the rear rocker panel through a heavy cast molding which caused the Starfire specific rear bumper ends to rust out.
I had pulled the carpet out and a friend welded in some patches and when I got the car back I painted the floor black with POR 15 while awaiting the new carpeting. I then found out that the Olds Club of America was having its annual national show in nearby Itasca , IL
It was a nice July day so I put the top down and cruised the 10 miles to the show. Now mind you, the car had a rusty rear bumper and a crease in the passenger door and no carpet but it was a work in progress which was perfectly acceptable in the world of street rods that I was used to. After I registered and was directed to park by the other ’65 Starfires I was cruising through the grounds and noticed that the car was attracting a lot of looks. Now a ’65 Starfire is rare but come on.
I found my designated spot and left the car to look around for a bit. I came back to the car maybe 30 minutes later to find 5 “old” guys in their 50’s or 60’s. (I can say that now because today I am that age.) I thought it was cool that the old car was attracting attention. One of the gents asked me if the Olds was mine and I said proudly that it was. Another geezer then asked why is it here, it’s not finished? Being taken a little aback I responded that it’s here because this is the Olds Nationals and it’s an Olds. Each one took a turn picking apart the car. The one that topped the cake was, “why is the top down?” At that point the smart ass in me finally kicked in and I looked up into the cloudless July sky and said, “It’s sunny and it’s a convertible so I put the top down.” “But it’s going to get wrinkled” came the reply. I acted surprised and said “oh my God, I didn’t think of that” and proceeded to raise the top with the approving smiles from the group of old farts. Those smiles changed to scowls as the group noticed the holes in the torn top partially covered with duct tape and as I latched the top in place I asked them, “is that better?” . The group walked away with one muttering how they shouldn’t let unfinished cars into the event. I spent the rest of the afternoon obviously pissing off a few more Olds purists. Man that was a great day. But from that day forward I look at any judged shows as being attended by nothing but a bunch of snobs with no sense of humor that want nothing but trophies.
Fast forward to about 2000 and I was attending a small local show with my in primer ’46 Chevy. This show had judged classes but I went because they had a swap meet and some friends were going. At least at this one nobody cared what your car looked like. At the awards ceremony at the end of the day they got to the class of restored muscle car or some such nonsense. One guy who had a restored ’70 Chevelle SS in the class started pacing. If I recall they had four trophies for the category with the top one being “Best in Class”. Starting with 4th place the guy paced faster and faster each time his name was not called, getting his car closer to the coveted top prize. When they got ready to announce the winner I thought this guy was going to faint. They announced the winner and this guy let out a holler and started to walk to get his trophy when he suddenly realized they had called someone else’s name. It was priceless, he almost cried and caused a scene complaining the winning car was a piece of crap and didn’t have the correct jack handle and the wrong valve stem caps all of which fell on deaf ears. He stormed out vowing never to return. Probably not a great loss if he didn't.
In 2005 I went to the Goodguys Nationals in Columbus
One afternoon after returning from the fairgrounds myself and some fellow club members were enjoying a cold beverage sitting in the parking lot when Mr. Camaro and his friend pulled up behind the trailer and the friend jumped out of the Camaro and into the tow vehicle pulling it up to make room to lower the ramp and to block not only parking spaces but now the aisle as well. He then dropped the ramp and Mr. C. lined the Camaro up with the ramp. His friend was standing in the trailer and I ascertained that his full time job must have been that of a signalman on an aircraft carrier or they guy at the airport that guides planes to the gate. His arms were up down left right getting the Camaro properly lined up and into its cocoon. After it was loaded and the ramp was raised, the trailer was backed up to its original place and the two went into the hotel. About two beers later the dynamic duo came back out and repeated the process to get the Camaro out of the trailer for a nights’ cruising. This was repeated each time they came and left with the car.
Well, Mr. C’s Camaro did not win the coveted Pro’s Pick or any other award. I heard him complain to a Goodguys official to no avail that how could they pick the ’69 Camaro over his because the ’69 had a speckle painted truck with a rust stain in a seam and did not have a fully upholstered trunk like his and had some paint chips because it was driven. On Sunday when the award winning cars were parked together Mr. C. made sure he parked just on the other side of the rope separating the award cars from the rest of us poor souls adjacent to the ’69 and made sure people saw the imagined flaws in the ’69.
I guess my whole point is that life is too short and is it really worth the aggravation to make sure you have the correct date code hose clamps? I don’t think so. A restored car is not an original car it just looks like one. It’s only original once so technically even if you put in a correct date code engine it’s still a modified car. Reproducing chalk and grease pencil marks, nope not original, it’s modified so a person might as well make a hot rod out of it. Remember, any can restore a car, it takes a real man to cut one up. Anyway that’s how I see it while I’m stopped at 49th street.
