I saw an ad in the paper one Saturday morning. "Fully restored 1961 Corvette blah blah blah $40k" (yes, it said sixty ONE). I got excited because I really wanted a 61. So I called, found out some details, was told it was JBs car, and that it was in Bowral (about 2 hours south of Sydney).So I called my old man, and we hopped in my trusty Mitsubishi Scorpion, and 1.5 hours later (yes, I WAS excited) we got to Jimmy's palace.
We spoke to some drugged-out looking dude who seemed to be part of Jimmy's band. He gave us the keys and said something along the lines of "Jimmy aint here. Here's the keys. If you dont come back with the car, he will hunt you down and kill you". I took the car for a shake down, giving it the respect that all old cars should be driven with. Seriously. Maybe got to 3/4 throttle once or twice. Then my dad got hold of the car, and gave it a boot full. He grinned wide, and giggled like a schoolboy, and over the roar of tyres and the engine he yelled "It's got some!".20 minutes later we got back to the palace. Jimmy was there. We chatted about the car, the condition of it, what modifications (?) had been done etc. "I like the shape, its a hot rod" I remember Jimmy saying in a thick accent. The car was fairly complete. Rough, but complete. And it was a 62. At that stage I did not know the can of worms underneath the paint. Had I known, I possibly would have offered him HALF of what I did.
I offered him what I thought would be a good price for the car. He said no. He'd spent a LOT of money on the car since he bought it (at a premium price, mind you) from Bob Thomas the infamous early Corvette importer. We departed.
A few months passed, and I reckon I thought about that car every day. Eventually, it got the better of me, and I hatched a plan. A fiendish plan that would enlist the services of a third party, my sometime-girlfriend Karlene. Unlike me, she is a people person. Good at haggling, making a good sale or making a good purchase. She's got the gift of the gab, a real life "How to Win Friends and Influence People" example. I knew she'd have a better shot at getting Jimmy to drop his price, after all, its harder for a man to say no to a woman, than to another man. We have very poor sales resistance when it comes to women, us blokes.But, I hit a snag. Once I decided to make another play for the car, I went to my wallet to find the weathered newspaper clipping that I had tucked in behind my Mastercard, only to find it gone. Damn, the spring cleaning of the wallet had seen the disposal of the only link I had to the car. What to do?
Lucky for me, the Sydney library keeps a copy of all the newspapers on microfiche (I dont know if they STILL do...remember this is back in the early 90s, before scanners and the internet and back when an external 20mb hard drive for your computer meant you could store your whole life on disk). I went to the libary, searched through hundreds of microfiches untill I found it. The ad. The phone number. I called the number, and the car was still for sale. I called Karlene. At the time, she lived at Coffs Harbour (about 6.5 hours north of Sydney - yes, I now know long distance romances dont last, but I did not know that then). Our on-again off-again romance was off-again, so it was a good chance to get in her good books and exceute some skull duggery.
I convinced her to fly to Sydney (hell, I'd even pay for the flight), and to call Jimmy Barnes and weigh in as a new contender for the car. We drove down to Jimmy's, trying to role-play and come up with the best angle. When we got there, we met Jimmy, did the introductions, and Karlene took off in the car, with one of Jimmy's roadies in the car with her. 20 minutes later, we could her the roar of the engine as the car approached. And then we saw the smoke. Thick, white bellowing smoke coming from the back of the car. The car stopped, Karlene pulled the handbrake, gave me a look, and she too, grinned wide. "Ho, hooo, she's a ripper....but whats going on here Jimmy, whats with the smoke?".Karlene had left the hand brake partially on when she had first taken off in the car. Out on to the highway, hitting a reported 90+mph, the handbrake was still on! She only realised this when she was pulling into Jimmy's driveway and could see the smoke all around (at that stage the car did not have the dash-mounted rear view mirror, so anything going on behind the car was normally inconsequential). When she stopped the car after her "test drive", knowing her mistake, she did a great job covering up by pulling the handbrake on, even if it was two or three extra clicks. The smoke was obviously from the brakes.There was a little banter, some looking under the car. The only people who knew what had happened were Karlene and I. So here's Jimmy, worried that his car was broken. Trying to sell it to us, at asking price.
It was showtime."Look Jimmy, its a fast car, a classic, but there are some serious mechanical issues, look at the smoke. I'd love to give you $x for it, but I just cant do that. My offer is $y. I'm flying back to Coffs tonight, here's my number, think about it, and give me a call when you want to sell the car".A week later, Karlene is back at Coffs Harbour, doing some study, and her mum comes in. "Karlene, theres some Scottish man on the phone named Jimmy, and he says hes accepted your offer..."
