Bigfoot's Mint 1967 VW BeetleAnd he only drove it to work once a week, on Sundays...
It was the best of times; it was the best of times. The summer of Strange Love, 1983. Fresh off the farm, there I was, in Bethesda Md., with the 'ZVI Construction Rolling Thunder Revue and General Contractors Expo'. Old Uncle Frankme and I were doing our usual Saturday morning thing, which was driving around the Chesapeake Bay looking at Boatyards for hidden treasures and irresistable deals. We had just stopped at a general store somewhere on Kent Island and I was in the process of enjoying my first frosty beverage of the day on old Frank's dime. The scenery was splendid, we weren't at work, I had some coin in my pocket and life was good. Frank was in the the process of explaining his plans and schematics for a human catapult, or a small-engine powered centrifuge, or some damn thing, I wasn't listenning really hard. Anyhow,we turn a bend, and from out of nowhere, there she was: out in front of the local Catholic Church sitting by the road, with a For-Sale sign on her, was a totally mint, cream white 1967 VW Beetle. It had the pipe bumpers like I liked, it had a Sun roof, if I'm not mistaken, and the little window in the back . She was a real gem.
Of course, we went inside post-haste, and was immediately introduced to the soon to be former owner, Sr. Augustine O'Reilly, the Priest of the aforementioned church, 'Notre Dame de Miraculous Bargains', as it turned out. After a short conversation, we 'jewed' him down, so to speak, to a paltry sum of $250 bucks. Sure, there were a few little issues with the car, but jeezo, if'n you can't trust a Priest to give you a fair deal, what the hell, right. So anyhow, we stick on some license plate the Padre had sitting around and, unregistered, we head back to the job-site. Back at the friendly confines of the construction site , my initial infatuation had somewhat faded, and some of the chinks in her armour became more apparent. But, still, for $250, a damn fine deal. She became our after work obsession. Every night, along with a case of beer, me and the rest of the guys, Bildo, Animal, Auggie the Blade, Muddah, Frank and I would lovingly patch her up and bring her up to 'register-ability'. With as little putty, a little paint, we made 'er look like what she ain't. A bucket of roofing pitch and some free metal from the job's Tin-Knockers and she was again a rust free marvel of German engineering, just as she had been in the Summer of Love, and just as ready for action.
She drove like a dream and looked like one too. The first night I took her back to the Hotel room, I raced my cousin Bildo, and rear-ended him at a stop light, promptly spilling my beer. She took it like a champ. I rubbed dome dirt on 'er and kept on a going. Her radio only got AM 1500 WTOP News, but after a while I got used to listenning to news, and actually started to enjoy it. The heater didn't work worth a pinch of dog poop either, but hey, it was August in the Nation's capitol, and hotter than a Monkey in a microwave anyway. I wouldn't need a heater for months to come. I was the envy of every van or truck driving nimrod on the job-site and definitely the only tradesman driving anything resembling a 'punch buggy'. Eventually, when the job ended and I took her back home to Maine, I made it there on not much more than $10 bucks worth of gas. Qu'ell Bargain!!
Now, since that time I've spent more than $250 in one shot on Bar tabs alone, and since then I've made $250 stretch farther than a fat women in a Trailer Park's Polyester Bell-Bottoms, but so far I've never, ever, spent $250 more wisely. I only drove her around for about a year or so, and eventually caught her on fire trying to un-freeze her gas lines, totally frying her electrical system. But hey I did end up selling it to my best buddy , Muddah, for ...ah, I don't know how much... I kind of screwed him, but, hey, that's all in the past...RIGHT?
Anyhow, for a year or so there, I felt like a real friggin' beatnick. I even tried to grow a Goatee. I dated girls who didn't shave their legs. I carried a guitar in my back seat, just in case a Hootenany broke out. It was great. Thanks Frank; without your sage advice I might have unwisely passed on such a finacial opportunity, and bought a pick-up instead. To think...
I could have been working.
3 comments:
$250? You bought that for $250- you are a BASTARD!
The fire- you forgot to mention how you used 500MPH tape to "fix" those wires before selling it to me. If you opened the hood at night, the engine looked like an X-mas tree. I had to replace all the plug wires and who knew there was such a thing as a firing order?
The months it was left at the Berry's(?) because he said he could fix the throw-out barring. It eventually was towed back to me with shrapnel in the engine.
I drove that car once to Boston and back before selling it to some college kid.
P.S. I broke the windshield on the trip to Boston.
I remember that goatee!!!
Oh BFC. I bought a 1963 Beetle, red, NEW with my father. Same pipe bumpers. The oval window in the back. The little knob on the floor that you turned and four days later the heat came on. The lawn mower engine in back. The kickin' AM radio on which I heard all the greatest songs in the world when they were NEW.
This car passed to my sister, and then to me. And I let my friend drive it home, FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, SENIOR YEAR. And it went out of control and smashed into a fire hydrant, and that was all she wrote, car totalled, after 13 years of loyal service. I still have dreams about that car.
Recently i have been thinking I will buy a "new" beetle, next car (assuming they get the mileage up to 50 MPH by then). You know what the world needs: a hybrid beetle. I hope that's coming.
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