Nobody likes getting ripped off. I don’t care if you got stuck with a lemon vacuum cleaner, poor roof or siding repair, or got hosed by Bernard Madoff and his fancy Ponzi scheme. It’s not one of life’s greatest experiences.
It can even happen when you are young and green, as a few “snakes” showed me. Thus, once bitten, twice shy.
No wonder why I’m so careful about anything I buy, barter or trade. It’s not due to any consumer awareness clinic or news reports on scams, but two neighborhood kids who got the better of me on a simple Matchbox car trade. Yes, a toy car at age seven!
Like most youngsters back then (the late 1960s), I had entire cases of them and kept them in great shape. It was a vintage Lesney blue tanker truck with ornate decals that these two teens had their eyes on. So they offered me a sleek, shiny, red metallic Jaguar coupe with fancy spoke wheels and white interior for the truck.
Let my seven-year-old brain decipher this. They are offering me a sporty, sexy, sinister icon sports car for a heavy, odd looking, English tugboat of a truck. What do I have to lose?
They reeled me in hook, line, and sinker. I traded them even up and have regretted it since. Since when? Since 1969!
You see that Jaguar was fools gold. It shined in the sun, but when I started to play with it, to roll it, the car literally fell apart in my hands. The body let loose from the chassis, and the interior separated from the chassis like Chinese twins at birth. These guys used glue to hold everything in place for just enough time to seal the shady deal in their favor.
Meanwhile, the tanker truck was sturdy, super clean, and as I found out later, much more rare. I even had the box for it!
Guess what? After they handed off their junky Jag to me, they quickly disappeared from the scene. I never saw much of them after that. Like the people who promised you new siding for your home took your money, did no work, and then skipped town. Real shysters.
I kept the rotten transaction to myself. For if I told my parents, they’d no doubt contact those teens who took advantage of me. Then those older kids would make it a point to make my life miserable with constant taunting, and I didn’t want that.
I’d been had, and was doing a slow simmer that early summer. I wanted that tanker truck back in my possession! The car I got from them was really useless — total scrap.
Fast forward over 40 years later. The stakes are so much higher now collecting the “real” automobiles because it’s easy to get burned. Fakes, repaints, misrepresentation, rolled back odometers, you name it — if there’s a way to take advantage of the unsuspecting, a non-trusty seller will do it!
Even if the selling party says “true miles, clean CarFax, all original.” All of those claims should make you play detective and do your homework, so it’s not an expensive mistake. Even bogus cars at major auctions have slipped through the cracks! And the guys running those pound the gavel venues are supposed to be “experts.”
Going back at least nine years ago, I found an extremely rare 2003 Saleen Mustang S281 Extreme model in custom victory blue paint. It was the only one made in that color for that year. Chrome wheels, Recaro seats, 445 HP, and special six-speed manual transmission were candles on the cake.
The top also went down for open-air shenanigans. Highly collectible. It pressed all the right buttons for me. Did I mention only 6,300 miles? It was the top rung in the 2003 Mustang ladder. I was ready to pull the trigger and buy it.
But I spotted something that was amiss, a glaring error. The car was in Texas, and since I couldn’t go look at it, I was working only with pictures and the seller’s claims to fame. Each picture HAD to be worth 1,000 words! The seller was quite reputable within the car hobby and took time to answer my dozens of questions.
However, the unique fiberglass “extreme hood” was missing on this Extreme Mustang. It had the dual air outlet hood featured on the regular S281 supercharged model, not the cheese grater multi-vent one that it should have! It visually set the Extreme model apart from the other Saleen stablemates. So did the special rear wing and center exhausts tips.
I called the seller immediately and asked where the original hood was. “That’s the way it came to me,” he said. Actually, he was as stumped as I was after telling him of what it SHOULD be equipped with. And this car wasn’t cheap, even in preowned form. Specific hood? Like the Mona Lisa painting without trademark smile attached. Like thunder excluding the lightning. Like your kid missing braces.
For days on end, I was on a mission to find out that cars history — good or bad. By Googling, tracing, making phone calls, I found the first owner. I even found pictures of it when it was new and ready to be delivered. Yes, it had the special hood during infancy.
The first owner told me he sold it with 600 miles on it. The second owner told me the car was involved in a full frontal accident while in his possession. Since the Extreme model was built in such minuscule numbers in 2003 (four coupes, ten convertibles), it was difficult (and expensive) to replace, so the insurance company paid to put a regular hood in its place.
Deal breaker. Let it be said, I don’t buy wrecked or repaired cars unless they are truly special ones that need to be saved. It can be a migraine headache ready to set foot in every nook and cranny. As a teen, I got taken on a 1970 Buick Gran Sport 455 Stage One.
Unfortunately, the vaunted Stage One motor was replaced by one out of a — 1972 station wagon. That’s why motors have codes on them. That’s why young buyers should take experts with them. It was an “impulsive” buy on my behalf.
This time, I passed on the victory blue Mustang with accident history and wrong hood attached to it. It made me determined to find a better, intact one. It took time and patience, but I did. The last one made in 2003, with custom Lizstick red (deep vermillion) hue was discovered and purchased. Touchdown!
The tiny Jaguar? I still have it, sitting prominently on a display case. I see it first thing in the morning before I head out, and it reminds me to stay on my toes in all daily dealings. Buyer beware, as in caveat emptor.
This story gets even better, as two weeks ago I found a nice blue tanker replacement truck at a flea market to put near the dilapidated Jaguar. Redemption! Those two deceptive losers aren’t going to finagle this one from me!
Lesson learned so long ago and stayed deep within me: be aware of anyone holding deception in their eyes and tongues when buying or selling. Even things you can hold in your hands.
All that glitters isn’t gold.
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Nobody likes getting ripped off. I don’t care if you got stuck with a lemon vacuum cleaner, poor roof or siding repair, or got hosed by Bernard Madoff and his fancy Ponzi scheme. It’s not one of life’s greatest experiences.
It can even happen when you are young and green, as a few “snakes” showed me. Thus, once bitten, twice shy.
No wonder why I’m so careful about anything I buy, barter or trade. It’s not due to any consumer awareness clinic or news reports on scams, but two neighborhood kids who got the better of me on a simple Matchbox car trade. Yes, a toy car at age seven!
Like most youngsters back then (the late 1960s), I had entire cases of them and kept them in great shape. It was a vintage Lesney blue tanker truck with ornate decals that these two teens had their eyes on. So they offered me a sleek, shiny, red metallic Jaguar coupe with fancy spoke wheels and white interior for the truck.
Let my seven-year-old brain decipher this. They are offering me a sporty, sexy, sinister icon sports car for a heavy, odd looking, English tugboat of a truck. What do I have to lose?
They reeled me in hook, line, and sinker. I traded them even up and have regretted it since. Since when? Since 1969!
You see that Jaguar was fools gold. It shined in the sun, but when I started to play with it, to roll it, the car literally fell apart in my hands. The body let loose from the chassis, and the interior separated from the chassis like Chinese twins at birth. These guys used glue to hold everything in place for just enough time to seal the shady deal in their favor.
Meanwhile, the tanker truck was sturdy, super clean, and as I found out later, much more rare. I even had the box for it!
Guess what? After they handed off their junky Jag to me, they quickly disappeared from the scene. I never saw much of them after that. Like the people who promised you new siding for your home took your money, did no work, and then skipped town. Real shysters.
I kept the rotten transaction to myself. For if I told my parents, they’d no doubt contact those teens who took advantage of me. Then those older kids would make it a point to make my life miserable with constant taunting, and I didn’t want that.
I’d been had, and was doing a slow simmer that early summer. I wanted that tanker truck back in my possession! The car I got from them was really useless — total scrap.
Fast forward over 40 years later. The stakes are so much higher now collecting the “real” automobiles because it’s easy to get burned. Fakes, repaints, misrepresentation, rolled back odometers, you name it — if there’s a way to take advantage of the unsuspecting, a non-trusty seller will do it!
Even if the selling party says “true miles, clean CarFax, all original.” All of those claims should make you play detective and do your homework, so it’s not an expensive mistake. Even bogus cars at major auctions have slipped through the cracks! And the guys running those pound the gavel venues are supposed to be “experts.”
Going back at least nine years ago, I found an extremely rare 2003 Saleen Mustang S281 Extreme model in custom victory blue paint. It was the only one made in that color for that year. Chrome wheels, Recaro seats, 445 HP, and special six-speed manual transmission were candles on the cake.
The top also went down for open-air shenanigans. Highly collectible. It pressed all the right buttons for me. Did I mention only 6,300 miles? It was the top rung in the 2003 Mustang ladder. I was ready to pull the trigger and buy it.
But I spotted something that was amiss, a glaring error. The car was in Texas, and since I couldn’t go look at it, I was working only with pictures and the seller’s claims to fame. Each picture HAD to be worth 1,000 words! The seller was quite reputable within the car hobby and took time to answer my dozens of questions.
However, the unique fiberglass “extreme hood” was missing on this Extreme Mustang. It had the dual air outlet hood featured on the regular S281 supercharged model, not the cheese grater multi-vent one that it should have! It visually set the Extreme model apart from the other Saleen stablemates. So did the special rear wing and center exhausts tips.
I called the seller immediately and asked where the original hood was. “That’s the way it came to me,” he said. Actually, he was as stumped as I was after telling him of what it SHOULD be equipped with. And this car wasn’t cheap, even in preowned form. Specific hood? Like the Mona Lisa painting without trademark smile attached. Like thunder excluding the lightning. Like your kid missing braces.
For days on end, I was on a mission to find out that cars history — good or bad. By Googling, tracing, making phone calls, I found the first owner. I even found pictures of it when it was new and ready to be delivered. Yes, it had the special hood during infancy.
The first owner told me he sold it with 600 miles on it. The second owner told me the car was involved in a full frontal accident while in his possession. Since the Extreme model was built in such minuscule numbers in 2003 (four coupes, ten convertibles), it was difficult (and expensive) to replace, so the insurance company paid to put a regular hood in its place.
Deal breaker. Let it be said, I don’t buy wrecked or repaired cars unless they are truly special ones that need to be saved. It can be a migraine headache ready to set foot in every nook and cranny. As a teen, I got taken on a 1970 Buick Gran Sport 455 Stage One.
Unfortunately, the vaunted Stage One motor was replaced by one out of a — 1972 station wagon. That’s why motors have codes on them. That’s why young buyers should take experts with them. It was an “impulsive” buy on my behalf.
This time, I passed on the victory blue Mustang with accident history and wrong hood attached to it. It made me determined to find a better, intact one. It took time and patience, but I did. The last one made in 2003, with custom Lizstick red (deep vermillion) hue was discovered and purchased. Touchdown!
The tiny Jaguar? I still have it, sitting prominently on a display case. I see it first thing in the morning before I head out, and it reminds me to stay on my toes in all daily dealings. Buyer beware, as in caveat emptor.
This story gets even better, as two weeks ago I found a nice blue tanker replacement truck at a flea market to put near the dilapidated Jaguar. Redemption! Those two deceptive losers aren’t going to finagle this one from me!
Lesson learned so long ago and stayed deep within me: be aware of anyone holding deception in their eyes and tongues when buying or selling. Even things you can hold in your hands.
All that glitters isn’t gold.
Gerry Ayers
AUTHOR
PROFILE