QOTD: Yelling at the TV?

This week, the deep-pocketed guys and girls of the car collecting world will descend upon the state of Arizona for the annual collector car auctions. From the televised glitz of Barrett-Jackson to the white-gloved stratosphere of RM Sotheby’s, there is something on the docket to fit everyone’s taste.

For years, I’d watch the events on television or follow the sale prices online with a certain amount of apoplexy. “They paid how much? For that?!?” I’d routinely fume, reliably waking my spouse and buying myself yet another night in the guest room.

A couple of years ago, though, I had a minor revelation.

My moments of most pious outrage were reserved for when a person would bid shocking amounts on something hideous like a ’59 Ford Thunderbird or ’63 Dodge Polara.

“Do these people not have eyes?” I’d bellow with incredulity.

Then it hit me: these models are probably cars for which the buyers either harboured pleasant youthful memories or stared at longingly when they were but wee lads or lasses. It didn’t matter what other people thought. That car, for whatever reason, made them happy. Now, flush with the fiduciary leeway, they were buying it, reason be damned.

Suddenly, it all made sense. My own automotive affections are reserved for the Lincoln Mark VII, specifically a 1989 model in LSC trim. I owned such an example in my early 20 only to make the boneheaded move of selling it during a particularly aggressive and ultimately unnecessary fleet reduction program. The big spender in the desert had it right all along. I stopped yelling at my television.

I won’t be raging into the night at my television in 2017, either. This year, I’m headed to the Arizona desert myself to check out the action and experience the madness firsthand. If I get swept up in the excitement, or accidentally purchase a Polara by scratching my nose, you’ll be the first to know.

One thing’s for sure, it won’t be my last trip. I’ll return in 2035, spending an outrageous sum on a cherry 1989 Lincoln Mark VII LSC … while someone yells at their television.

What car makes you feel that way, B&B?