September 17, 2003

eBay dollars and questionable sense

By
Herald Editor

      Financially speaking, I am the model of thriftiness; better known as a cheapskate. Recently, however, I made a run on the bank.
      While this transaction involved dollars, it also contained questionable sense. With one impractical purchase I exhausted a life savings of 'hubby honey' points. After all, amassing money is easy compared to garnering the good graces of your better half.
      So what makes a man who repairs shoes with duct tape shell out several thousand dollars? It was an itch seeking a scratch since the unpleasant departure of the rolling wreck known as Le Junk. My Calamine Lotion turned out to be a 1963 Ford Falcon Ranchero.
      Now I am fully aware that buying a 40-year-old vehicle embodies the phrase "questionable judgment." However, when a saver gets a wild hair he won't be parted from his purchase. Even if it means using the Internet to procure a Ford that rolled off the assembly line during the Kennedy administration.
      Up until a month ago, I never felt compelled to purchase in cyberspace. Instead I scoffed at those willing to plunk down money for a Porky Pig Pez dispenser or hermetically sealed Elvis chest hair. I even deleted those e-mail offers for a time share on the San Andreas Fault.
      Then, like Icarus, I fell from my lofty view. I ventured too close to the radiant computer monitor glow of eBay.
      For the longest time I was an eBay voyeur, content to watch other bidders cough up $40,000 for an SS Camero convertible. That is until I found an old oddity for sale: a 1963 Falcon Ranchero.
      I was wholeheartedly smitten by this half car-half truck. After pouring over photos, e-mailing inquires and fuzzy math number crunching, I convinced myself that buying a vintage vehicle in Springtown, Texas seemed perfectly sane. The fact that it was 2:15 a.m. had no impact on my rational.
      Now I only had to convince my wife - someone with a fully functioning brain stem.
      Rather than blurt out my intentions over breakfast, I waited a few days to see if my eBay enthusiasm would wane. Actually, I couldn't find the "10 Ways to Convince Your Wife to Let You Buy Another Muscle Car" article lurking inside a car magazine parked under our couch. While I contemplated trying out number seven (live in the dog house), I opted for a meaningful discussion followed by shameful groveling if necessary.
      Despite using circular logic banned by academic debate teams, there would be no sharing a pillow with Corky. My wife gave her approval although I'm sure it went against every fiber of her rational bill-paying being. It wasn't a Papal-type blessing, but it worked.
      I blissfully cashed out my banked up 'hubby' points and booted up the computer.
      To carry out my eBay bidding, I enlisted the aid of someone who could rationalize any purchase, from Steward's Folly to the Brooklyn Bridge. I called my sister with 15 minutes left on the auction and she eagerly agreed to spend my money using her user name. With one minute left, I made a final bid. A mere 60 seconds later and I owned a car my mom could have driven to high school.
      Not surprisingly, 60 seconds is also the time it takes to go from eBay euphoria to hard cash reality. After all, I just bought a car parked 1,407 miles from my driveway. I woke up my wife at 11:45 p.m. to tell her the good news - that way she could get a head start burying my body in the backyard before sunrise.
      Still breathing the next morning, I started a three-week process that involved e-mails, faxes and bank wire transfers. I also made phone calls to car carrying companies, although I skipped Cheapie Auto Transport. Amazingly, the third rock from the sun aligned with the other celestial bodies and my Ranchero arrived in one unibody piece.
      Although winter is fast approaching, I'm planning a few fall Ranchero road trips. The truck is actually licensed and insured - so it is miles ahead of the LeMans even before leaving the garage. Now all I have to do is replace the docile six cylinder with a built 289 and a C4 transmission.
      My line of credit, however, is already overextended. If my math is right, it will take 1,619 grocery store runs before I find a V8 in my Christmas stocking.
      Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com