tobias.kochs-online.net

The new trend sport: hoarding of free CeBIT tickets

Today I got my fourth. Because I’m gonna be out on business at this year’s CeBIT weekend, that are even more day tickets than I could use theoratically.

So true by earthdog (found on Flickr)

Would it be justifiable, to put stickers onto a car – this would be on top of my list. (No, Adrian, Phantasialand stickers are out too!)

As a reading for lunch break I recommend “Die letzte Ölung – Besuch beim Abwracker” at Carsablanca. Just to sing from the same hymn sheet as lately and to point out the madness of the German junking-bonus.

After arriving in Mülheim at the Ruhr, the son of the seller welcomed us. They had some of these models, he said and asked, if we would be interested in taking a look at his current project. Well, of course we had. He led us down to a garage in the basement and we figured out, we weren’t dealing with another offspring of Laberbacke’s breed. A black car stood there properly jacked up, a long row of shelves at the wall behind it holding lots of spare parts. A yellow E-Type was standing in the front area of the garage. With some intermissions they had been working for ten years at the black car now, he told us.

We drove to the storage, where we met his dad, who had already taken care of the car which is for sale. The storage packed a punch. Seven classic cars of American and British brands stood there orderly side by side. After some introducing words Adrian and I inspected the car of our interest – and what can I say? We were stunned. Despite it’s age of thirty years, the car is in excellent condition. Everything is original and perfectly maintained. Low mileage, no rust, fantastic paint. When the seller told me, he had to replace the gear gaiter by a new one made of black leather, it became clear to me, on which level we found ourselves. Even the rare radio is still in place and fully functional.

We took a look, but did find a few minor flaws at best, which you would not mention at most used cars from this millennium. I had quite some difficulties to control my euphoria until we were back in our car and heading home.

Sunday morning I called the seller, negotiated a price and sent him a purchase covenant by fax. Now he is going to exchange the petrol filter and clean the carburetor, afterwards the car is ready for handover.

Again we have been on an inspection tour last weekend, looking for classic cars. This time we drove to Emmerich, where North Rhine-Westphalia adjoins the Netherlands. There is a yellow/black 1973 Ford Mustang Mach I for sale at the US car dealer RD Classics. Like usual the pictures on the net are showing a vehicle in putative dreamlike state and the ad’s text says the car would be in “outstanding condition”.

When entering the the storage/salesroom Adrian and I recognized this wasn’t a dealer of selected top cars. A 1955 or 1956 Imperial in quite poor condition welcomed us at the entry. Further back in the storeroom the Mustang was waiting. Coming closer it became clear to us that the dealer’s understanding of the adjective “outstanding” isn’t realistic at all. The paint job showed the same cracks we saw on the Firebird and doesn’t quite live up to European demands for a good paint work. Windows seals had been painted over or had visible marks of spray. The engine compartment was covered with a thick layer of anti-rust primer, clearly reminding me of the outdoor coating of ferry boats. At least the interior withstood a sketchy survey, which might be owed to the spreading disappointment.

Aside from all this I was especially annoyed by the fact that the car wasn’t ready to drive although I had asked the dealer up front. He said, test drives would only be possible if the customer had clear intention to purchase. There would be simply too many requests for it. Accepted. I can understand this. But after I had asked this beforehand, got a positive reply and spent a day of driving about 500 km to have a look at the car, I was considerably pissed off finding the radiator dust-dry and not even a battery in the car.

Because we could not reconcile the extremely self-confident pricing policy with the Mustang’s condition we rather took a look at some C3 Corvettes which are for sale as well. Of the six offered cars on the net there would be only three left, the others had been sold during the week, the dealer said. Later we found us asking ourselves who could be willing to pay such high prices for restoration objects like these because the similar priced Corvettes in the storage would require another five-figure for restoration, we cautiously estimated. Missing and hardened seals, clearance that makes you wondered if both parts are still belonging to the same car, large quantities of silicone used as window seals, worn out or horribly replaced interiors and – of course – the classic: damaged thermoplast paint. It got me thinking that I could find such little rust.

Quite frustrated we started driving homeward soon. But first I called a private seller in the Ruhr Area with whom I had set up an appointment basically because it was en route anyway and I wanted to use the opportunity. My hopes weren’t too high as the seller already told the car wouldn’t be ready to drive when I called him in the morning. The car hadn’t run in a few weeks and there wouldn’t be a battery installed at the moment. That didn’t sound all that well to my ears. But we had set up the appointment and it would be a detour of just a few kilometers anyway.

To find out what had been waiting for us in Mülheim at the Ruhr read on tomorrow…

After recommending a juicy cover song to you on Tuesday, I’m going to do so again today – just in time for the weekend so to speak. This time I’d like to draw your attention to Far’s version of “(Hot Little) Pony“. At the band’s website [sbg] is writing in the comments:

its a panty-dropper for sure.

There’s nothing to add. Have a nice and successful weekend everybody.

Last week we had to find out, that it’s more difficult to buy a car than the common driver of a leased TDI might think. First we had to postpone Unternehmen Seehund and on Friday sobering followed during the survey of a car I had arranged. A week before I already had taken a look at the 1969 Pontiac Firebird which is for sale. But my first encounter with the car took place in a dark and narrow garage, so I arranged this second appointment with the seller in order to examine the car at daylight and take it for a test drive.

I also took Adrain and my father with me as (more) neutral experts. Six eyes do see more than two. Moreover one of us could take care of the extremely talkative seller while the other two could have a look at the car in detail. Thereby it showed what wasn’t visible in the dim garage: The paint was damaged or faulty all around. In a later chat the seller told us, there had been a new paint job a few years ago which had been applied on top of the subjacent thermoplast paint. It became obvious for us that these damages would only be the beginning and soon a new paint job would be necessary. This again would require the cumbersome depainting of the whole body. Such an extensive restoration isn’t what I’m looking for when buying my first classic car. Besides that the price did not fit anymore against this background and so it was clear to me: The Firebird and me wouldn’t ride drive into the sunset together.

Anyhow I decided to take the car for a spin in order to get a basis for comparison when test-driving another one. Adrian took some photos of the Firebird and a video of the test drive. Thanks for that!

While 1.FM’s Channel X accompanies me through the day, I just listened to the cover song “Darling Nikki” by the Foo Fighters. And so I’d like to recommend it to Adrian, his girlfriend Nici and all the desirable rest of my readership now.

Adrian already agreed with Herr Renz, but I’d like to use the opportunity to express my resentment about the current political discussion here in Germany, which is at the bottom of the Unwort “Abwrackprämie“. Not only Herr Renz is right, but also Knut Simon, who is dealing with this issue over at Carsablanca.