It really is a disease I have suffered from for many years.

So, as any afflicted person has “treatment routines”,  my “regular dose” includes a certain amount of time each day checking automotive, hot rod and… uh-hum… “vintage van” websites (the most advanced stage of the disease).

During one such “therapy session” last week, I stumbled on an upcoming auction that was going to take place right down the road from me. It was an estate auction that include all the usual old household “junk”,  tools, lawn furniture, AND a 1965 Pontiac Grand Prix (one of my favs).

As a junk-car-lovin’ dreamer, I was immediately caught up in the “estate auction” euphoria. It is just one of those terms that sets the gears of imagination running. We’ve all heard the stories of super bargains at “estate auctions”. Tall tales of recently deceased little old ladies with their late husband’s ultra rare, special order, 4 speed equipped, unobtainium car, being rolled out of storage, passed through a crowd of none-gear-head-antique-collecting auction goers and selling for next to nothing. Of course the hero of these stories is the “one guy” at the auction that “really knows” what the car worth. We all want to be that guy.

So, even though I really DO know better, I allowed myself to dream the scenario of going to this Thursday morning auction and coming home with a cool old car for next to nothing (which coincidently is all I can afford).

Here is the way it went down…

The auction listing:

[box_light]”1965 Pontiac Grand Prix Mod 6657 2 Door Hardtop; Vintage Furniture; Antiques; Collectibles; China & Glass; Much More!
This loaded home has been virtually untouched since it was left 30+ years ago. All of the closets & drawers have yet to be unpacked”[/box_light]

Among the photos of 1970’s coffee makers, vintage ties, pots and pans, there were a handful of “low resolution” poorly composed photos of a blue 65 Grand Prix. This is where the sly cunning of a seasoned auctioneer works its magic. Sure, to the average joe, the photos look like the person taking them was too busy, lazy or uninspired to take “good” pictures of the car. Of course they know EXACTLY what they are doing. A half covered car, the flat tires, the underexposed interior shots… they prey on the weakness of the disease inflicted. The lack of details allows the imagination to run wild, “maybe it has the 421”, “that looks like original paint”, “It COULD even be a Tri-Power car” etc… Before long, this car you can barely identify in the photos, has become the greatest possible acquisition  in the tri-state area.

 

So, even though I really DO know better, I planned to go to the auction. While my business partner Michael certainly suffers from the same ailment as I, his symptoms are not as severe and generally kept in check by “practicality” (penicillin for the gear head fever). Much to his dismay,  the day before the big event I spent the entire 6-1/2 hour drive home from a business appointment in Chicago extolling the virtues of the 65 Pontiac. It’s wide track stance, the Motor Trend of the year award it received, the various available engine combos it might have been equipped with and the horsepower of each, etc… I think it made the trip go by faster. I’m not sure Mike would agree.

So, even though I really DO know better, I drove the 45 minutes to the auction with my mom and dad (good proof that the disease is genetic) and we had a look over the car. As we pulled up, there it was, sitting unevenly in the back yard surrounded by dozens of highly seasoned auction “professionals” peering under the hood, writing down numbers, running their hand along the fender lips, lifting the trunk mat to check for tell tale signs of rot. Remember the scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark when Indiana Jones comes over the sand dune to discover the Nazis were already at the dig site and were employing thousands of slave helpers to uncover the Lost Ark?

It was something like that.

 

We joined the “dig” and examined the car in as much detail as we could.  The plates were from 1986, the original interior was very nice and the car was good and straight with hardly so much as a door ding. However, a closer look revield it had clearly been repainted in the past, all the chrome was pitted, there was some rust in the trunk and it would not start for an unknown reason. Although a ’65 Grand Prix is an unusual sight at your local mall parking lot these days, this car was not particularly exceptional or rare. Other than factory air, it was a run-of-the-mill 389 4brl car. Considering the crowd, and the condition of the car, I estimated it might sell for as much as $4000 to $4500. At that price it could be fixed up for a decent driver, or with another few grand or so “invested” it could be flipped for a nice profit.

For me, even though I really love a ’65, in a rare moment of clarity I set my top dollar at $2500. I was really only a player if it was “too good of a deal to pass up”.

The auctioneer started the bid at $4000, and then quickly dropped to $2000, my dad placed my bid of $2500 (I was shooting video on my phone) and within seconds it jumped to $3000 and I was done.

Here is where the story gets interesting to me, and why I was compelled to share the entire experience. There was a fairly lively bid session to about $3500… but I’m fairly certain the top bid was about $3800 among the those in attendance. However, there were also 3 or 4 phone-in bidders. These folks had prosumadly seen the auction online, or in the paper, but couldn’t be there in person. The auction companies’ employees called them on cell phones right before the car went “on the block” and were placing their bids in for them. They had not had the opportunity to do the “archeology” themselves and were more than likely still “suffering with the “fever” induced dream car image of the Grand Prix.

Without the ability to see who they were bidding against, and in their disease induced delirium, they were not aware that the only people continuing to bid on the car, and drive the price up, were people who had not seen the car in person. As folks watched the proxy bidding run the price up to $5500, there were more than a few sly smiles and head shakes in the crowd.

Now, I’m certainly not suggesting that any sort of flimflam or bamboozlement was occurring. The auction company was conducting business completly above board and everyone involved were “consenting adults”. What I am saying is the folks at home, who had not taken the “medication of reality” and seen the car in person, kept the bid going past what I think most would have considered a “good-deal” and amongst those in attendance the bidding would most likely have topped out right around $4000.

So, as I resume my daily therapy and look for the next dream car, I now know better.

Here is video.