Table of Contents Table of Contents
Previous Page  49 / 103 Next Page
Show Menu
Previous Page 49 / 103 Next Page
Page Background

willing to discuss here, but let’s say it

usually involved my Harley and a

woman. Ah, the wonders of misspent


All of a sudden, I realize two bid-

ders I have watched on television auc-

tions are sitting right in front of me, as

in Don (Blackhawk Museum) Williams

and to my left is Ross (3 Dog Garage)

Myers. I am amongst a couple of heavy

hitters and loving every second of this

once-in-a-lifetime experience. Once

again I am finding out all car guys are

really just sixteen year-old kids when

it comes to the “bigger boys, bigger

toys” theory. This proves especially

true when another front row gentle-

man from across the aisle sits in front

of Ross and immediately becomes his

bidding assistant, actually raising his

own hand to place a bid for Ross – too


Then, during a slight break in the

action, I see standing in front of me,

Mark Hyman, of the well-known, very

reputable, St. Louis based collectible

car business called – what else –

Hyman Ltd. Classic Cars. Reaching

out over the first row to shake his

hand, I kiddingly tell him I’m really

upset he lured away one of the best

foreign and domestic auto mechanics

on the West Coast, a great guy by the

name of Steve Bonney. He laughed

and just replied, “

All you have to do is

ship your cars to St. Louis!

” As the

auction fired up, I didn’t have time to

tell him I knew two guys who were

doing just that very thing.

Well, Don sold his gorgeous 427

Cobra competition car, which had

served as a dual purpose vintage racer

and 1,000-mile grand tourer for many

years. Someone sitting about ten feet

from Don was the highest bidder, and

after I congratulated Ross Myers on a

fine purchase he stood up, saying, “


breaking out in a sweat, my heart is

palpating, and I feel kind of woozy. I

have to go home and figure out how to

pay for the thing.

” A bunch of us

started crackin’ up, knowing full well

that wouldn’t be a problem…but

there’s always a slim chance…nah, no


Afterwards, Don invited me to din-

ner with the rest of his party, and I

gratefully accepted by muttering

something like, “

Yeah, that doesn’t

sound too bad

.” Are you kidding me!

Talk about a stumble bum reply to a

fantastic gentleman who basically

made my trip to Scottsdale worth-

while. I never have been accused of

having too much savoir faire.

Friday, January 29th

– Russo and Steele

Russo and Steele’s atmosphere is

designed for everyone to simply have

a lot of fun. Don’t get me wrong, the ul-

timate goal of their auction is that of

all auctions, to get the buyers and sell-

ers together so deals are made and

everyone goes home happy.

The second you drive up to pay for

parking, the money takers are smilin’

and funnin’ with ya’, and the parking

lot guys use exaggerated, swooping

waves to point you toward a parking

spot. Then there was our shuttle bus

driver, who literally missed her true

calling as a standup comedian because

she kept up a line of hilarious patter

from the first person on to the last per-

son off. Her quart jar for tips was

squashed full of bills, and when exit-

ing we all crammed in some more

Washingtons, Jeffersons, Lincolns, and

even a few Hamiltons.

There’s also, what I guess you

could call, a welcoming committee

greeting you right after you get off the

bus, enter the tent to pay a $30 admit-

tance fee, then proceed to step into the

first of two cavernous preview tents.

Again, everyone is super friendly,

wishing you a good day, telling you to

enjoy all the wonderful cars, and ex-

pressing hope that you find a car

which you would really like to own. It

was a great combination of “be sure

and have a good time, but also feel free

to spend a little money.”

Accompanying me was a friend of

mine, Richard Herman, a “pip-pip,

cheerio, jolly good” fan of British clas-

sics, especially anything with “wings”

(British slang for body panels arching

over arched wheels). He fell deeply in

lust (yes, ladies, men lust after cars)

with a red body 1961 Morgan Plus 4

Drop Head, adorned on both sides

with black wings. It was scheduled for

the block a little later in the day, and

he came oh so close to registering to

bid. He must have traipsed around the

teeny tiny tin Brit (I kept looking for

the wind up key in the back) a dozen

times, talking to the car’s representa-

tive and muttering over and over, “


just gotta’ have this car.

” He finally

force marched himself away from the

car so he couldn’t ogle and drool over

it anymore, and never did register to

bid. After he reads this article, he’ll

immediately suffer a my loss/someone

else’s gain moment, because the saucy

little British crumpet hammered for

$36,850. “

It was the deal of a lifetime,

a fantastic opportunity, you won’t be-

lieve what I passed up…

” Admit it,

you’ve said these exact same phrases,

and many more.

Friday, January 29th

– Gooding and Company

Why do I love the Gooding and

Company auction house so much? Be-

cause of Charlie Ross, of course! If you

don’t recognize the name, you should

not be reading this article. He is their

infamous, oh so British, auctioneer

who scolds bidders, “

Oh, sir, you’ve al-

ready bid $650,000. Are you going to

let someone else drive away in your


for only $25,000 more?

” or,

Madam, I will treat you to a free cock-

tail at the rear of the room. That way

your husband can bid with no interfer-


” He is too hilarious when cajol-

ing bidders to the point of comical

harassment in order to increase the

bid for a car. And this afternoon he is

not disappointing his avid fans.

After photographing a silver on

red 289 Cobra, which I could swear

sold at the Rick Cole Auction last Au-

gust in Monterey (a flip, perhaps?) I

walk over to the java stand, not really

paying attention to where I am going

because, of course, I’m staring at some

gorgeous wheeled sculptures. I come to


Spring 2016 49