Who Do You Know?

It doesn't matter who you vote for, the Government always gets in. --
graffito in London, 1970s

I bought a car from a man named Phil Williams back in the last century. He and his wife at the time, Kathy, lived in the Anderson Hills subdivision. Fast forward to 2009 and Phil is running for political office in Alabama after amassing millions of dollars as a businessman. Phil used to be involved in government sales and if I heard correctly, made a pretty penny in the sale of 3D Research. Here's the original, unedited story of my purchase from Phil:

"What you dare to dream . . ."

I have allowed myself the luxury of joining the throngs of male humans who desire and purchase a motorized transportation vehicle which has been designed for the pleasure and not the utility of driving. In other words, I bought a car for the sport of driving. In other words, I bought a sports car. In fact, I bought a red 1984 Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce with leather seats and polished wood steering wheel.

Why an Alfa Romeo? Why, indeed? Let me take you back a moment to the turn of the century. The horse and the train were no longer the sole means of transportation so men had the opportunity to design transportation vehicles that took advantage of the comfort of trains and the transportability of horses. In 1909, a group of Italian industrialists bought an auto factory on the old Portello road near Milan "to build automobiles of sporting performance." They named their new company Anomina Lombarda Fabbrica Automobili - ALFA. Several years later, Nicola Romeo brought the company into the forefront of auto racing history. Thus, Alfa Romeo was born.

Although I was not born until 1962, decades after the automobile was born, I grew up hearing about the early days of Model As and Model Ts but most importantly about the joy of driving any car along a country road with the wind whistling, the engine puttering, and the smell of musty leather and gearbox oil in the air. When I was four years old, my father bought a 1959 Triumph TR3. He loved that car more than his family, just about. I remember the car and its shape like an ocean wave that started at the front bumper, smoothly crested midway across the hood and reached bottom near the back of the front seats, then rose again toward the rear tires and crashed into the rear bumper. To me, the curves of that car pointed toward heaven like a cross in a Christian church. I knew when I was a grownup I was going to have a car just like Dad's.

As I have grown up, I have watched the years pass by without my owning a piece of heaven. Many times, I have struggled with the thought that perhaps I didn't deserve a fine sports car. I would look at the car I was driving and say I was unworthy. In the early 1980s, I set my sights on a Karmann Ghia convertible, knowing I wanted more but settling for less. A few years passed during which my life was spent struggling with ideas and philosophies not founded in the reality of sports cars or normal, everyday living.

About five years ago, I found my path to heaven. I don't remember the exact day but hope sprang eternal when I saw an Alfa Romeo Spider gliding effortlessly along the road like an angel. At that moment, I knew my materialistic mission in life: to buy, own, and thoroughly enjoy an Alfa Romeo Spider. I checked the classified ads in the local newspaper for several months but no one seemed to be selling Alfa Romeos, Spiders or otherwise. I told several people about my goal and most people told me how impractical I was since there was no Alfa dealership in Huntsville, Alabama, Alfas were known for their mechanical problems, the nearest dealerships were in Birmingham and Nashville and how could I possibly expect to take care of a car when I hardly knew where the air filter was. I think I heard every negative comment possible about owning an Alfa except no one could deny that owning an Alfa is a dream attained only by the truly inspired.

A year passed and finally my dream seemed about to come true. My wife and I found a Spider for sale in a sell-your-own lot. The owner was a man in his early 60s who had bought the car because his doctor told him he was going blind and he wanted to own a sports car before he could no longer drive - not quite the "little ol' lady who only drives the car to church on Sunday" story but close enough. The man wanted to sell the car to an Alfa enthusiast like me but my money was tied up for a down payment on a house. Rationally, I knew I should wait but emotionally I was torn up. Realizing I was not getting the car felt like someone had just nailed one of my feet into a coffin.

My wife and I bought a house and settled in, spending money on wallpapering the bathrooms, landscaping the yard, a computer, a china cabinet, two Toyotas . . . everyday passed and I seemed destined to follow a road that led away from an Alfa. A few months ago we discussed replacing the little yellow Nissan Sentra I had been driving for three or four years. We decided we needed a truck to haul the landscaping mulch we seemed to use so much of in the yard. My father started looking for a truck in East Tennessee. I emphasized that I wanted a cheap truck, less than $2000, if possible, all along feeling that the truck was going to nail my other foot in the coffin.

A few weeks ago, I went with my wife to see her brother and his family for dinner. We ate a satisfying meal and afterward I sat down in the living room to let my food settle and to read the classified ads. I thumbed over to the truck section, marking the prospects with a pencil. I found a promising Isuzu truck for $1850 but only got an answering machine when I called. I called about another truck and got no answer at all.

I decided to scan the column marked "Other/Foreign" in hopes of finding some more trucks (though I was secretly wishing for something else). Suddenly, my heart stopped and I couldn't breathe. There, in front of me, - or was it really there, I wasn't sure - was an ad for a late model Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce. I called the number and asked for Phil like the ad said.

"This is Phil," he responded cheerfully.

"I was wondering . . ." I hesitated, "do you still have that Alfa Romeo Spider?"

"Yes, it's red and has leather interior. It's in pretty good shape."

"How much do you want for it?" I asked as I froze, waiting to hear his answer.

"Well, I'm asking sixty-five hundred but I'll take six-thousand and I'll bargain if you have cash."

I smiled.

I quizzed him about other details of the car but I could tell by the conversation that he was the kind of person who took good care of his car and I could trust him that the car was in good shape. By the time I hung up the phone, I had pulled both my feet out of my imaginary coffin and was ready to find my way back to heaven.

My wife and I discussed the price of the car and decided we would make an offer after I had seen the car. I drove out to Phil's place the next day, looked the car over and took it for a spin with Phil giving commentary from the passenger's seat. The following day, I took Janeil to see the car. We spent several hours at Phil's house looking at the car and talking with Phil and his wife. We worked our way to the living room and I fumbled through a conversation trying to postpone the inevitable. I felt like a guy about to kiss a girl for the first time. A rejection could be a serious blow to my wellbeing. Finally, I could hardly look Phil in the eye because of what I was about to say.

"I can, can offer you $5000," I stuttered, managing to look him in the eye with a strained smile.

How do I describe the look in Phil's eyes as the sound waves that left my mouth hit Phil's ears? He looked like he had taken to heart the worst insult he had ever heard. As a fellow male, I felt like I had betrayed him but my wife and I had agreed we needed to offer him a low price to leave us some bargaining room.

He cleared his throat. "I don't believe I can take that low a price. I've invested $2100 in the car and would be taking a loss." His voice dripped out of his mouth like water from a broken faucet sputtering its last.

I felt like walking out of the room but I wanted to save both our egos as much as possible before I left. "Well, the credit union says the loan value is $5375. In fact," I looked at my watch and saw it was 8:15 p.m., "I can call the credit union to check and make sure."

"Yeah," he said in a more uplifting voice, "I'd like to do that cause I was told the loan value was more like $5800. I believe the girl's name was Leslie."

Our wives interrupted us to say the credit union closed at 8:00 p.m. but Phil and I were determined to see this quest to the end. Of course, Phil called and no one answered.

He turned to me. "Why don't you guys go home and think this over. You can come back and drive the car all you want while you're trying to make up your mind. I don't believe that other family is going to buy the car real soon but I'll let you know if they make an offer." [Phil had informed me the day before that one other family had made serious inquiries about the car but they had to sell one of their cars before they could buy this one. From the conversation, I had gathered that the person in that family that would be driving the car was not a connoisseur of fine automobiles like Phil had gotten the impression I was.] As we left the house, Phil and his wife said they wanted to put some trees in their brand-new bare yard. My wife and I offered them some trees from our yard whenever they wanted them.

On the way home, my wife commented that she felt I had never clearly made my offer of $5375.

I talked to Phil on the phone a few days later and he said that after "going over the figures," he could offer me the car for $5750. I thanked him. Meanwhile, he had expressed an interest in working for ADS where I worked because he was fluent in French and ADS was beginning to expand into France. He brought his resum_ by work a day or so later and I gave it to one of the company founders who was handling the French project.

A week or so passed and Phil called me one morning at work. He asked if I was still interested because the other family was. I told him my wife and I had decided we couldn't afford the car. I repeated the conversation to my wife later in the day and she reminded me that I had never officially offered him $5375. I called Phil's office and left a message that if the other family lost interest, I could offer $5375.

By chance, the Nissan died on the way home. Driving back and forth to work during the past two weeks, I had had problems with the Nissan sputtering, dying, and starting back up while at highway speeds. I got my wife to pick me up. As we drove home, I told her I made an offer of $5375. She shocked me by stating that she thought we had discussed going up to $5500. As soon as we got home I called Phil's house and left a message on his answering machine offering him the $5500. I sat on the couch and waited for his call.

They say you know the moment when the light from heaven shines down on you and blesses your life for eternity. Usually, the moment comes when you least expect it but some people are fortunate enough to anticipate the moment and savor every minute when it comes. Well, the light from heaven came on for me the moment I grabbed up the phone before even one ring had ended.

"Hello?"

"Rick, this is Phil. I accept your offer."

Millions of slot machines in my head hit jackpot at the same time. Giant boulders fell off my shoulder. I looked over at my wife and excitedly whispered, "It's Phil. He accepts the offer."

Needless to say, I have my piece of heaven now. If tomorrow someone took the car away from me, it wouldn't matter. I have physically been able to get my hands on my dream and make it 100% reality. Now I've just got to figure out which trees Phil and his wife can have out of our yard.