LETTING GO..........AND A LESSON LEARNED.

In the overall scheme of life most people will find this trivial at best and that is OK. A few of you will understand and that will be enough.
I have had a love affair going on the side. A long term thing actually. It got started when I was only 16 years old. My first car was a 1969 Camaro. Since that first one there have been two more. I still remember what I paid for the first one, $2121.21. My dad cosigned a loan for me and I paid for it myself by working part time after school. Three years later at 19 I was about to be married and it had gotten pretty ragged. Seems I couldn't give it away. Finally had an offer of $700 and my Dad said if I was going to sell it that cheap he would give me that for it. So he did. Three months later he sold it for $1200. Kept the profit too. It was a good lesson.

The next one was really nice. It had the hide away headlight option and a Baldwin/Motion paint job. I always hated the paint job and after a while I sold that one too.

But I never got over wanting one. Finally, years later I found one painted with the Z-28 paint option and bought it for $1800. I changed a few things , not much and soon it was my pride and joy. I loved that car. But it became an issue. My wife at the time convinced the preacher at church that I worshipped this car. I didn't. However, I did like to drive it on the weekends and cruise in it on Wards Road, the local hang out for car guys. This was along about the time the prices on these cars started skyrocketing. After many bitter fights and a visit or two from the preacher I was finally coerced into selling it for $3600. Doubled my money, not bad. That was 25 years ago and it is STILL an open wound to me. Today that car would be worth $15,000 !

For 20 odd years I dreamed, I wished and I whined wanting one day to own another 1969 Camaro. I vowed if I could ever afford one again, it would never be sold.

Then about 2 years ago a guy offered to trade me a 1969 Camaro body for my Pro Street race truck. The floor was rusted out of it. The car was rough by anyone's standards. But I traded and got some cash to boot. And so it began again. My last big car build. My dream car. What happened you ask ?

Parkinsons happened, a bad economy happened, old age maybe. My wonderful wife never blinked an eye and supported me all the way. Slowly I built on the car. Welding in new floor pans. Gathering parts when money permitted. Over a period of 2-3 years I had most everything I needed to finish it. But each time money would get tight I knew what was sitting in the shop would keep the bills paid. First one part, then another would get sold. After a while it became harder to make progress. Physically I just can't do what I used to do. For the last year no progress and a lot of lost sleep agonizing over selling it or letting it sit in hopes of one day.....some day.....

Recently I realized that a lot of my stress in life is self induced, like most people probably. Two projects in the shop, bills to be paid, declining energy levels, no time , no money. Something else came into focus too. No matter how much I would enjoy finishing this car it will never be the same. Try as I might, I cannot roll the hands of time back to recapture that point in time I lost so long ago. And so I got serious about selling it. A couple of deals locally fell thru pretty quick. But the feeling of almost having it sold , the relief knowing I wouldn't have it hanging over my head , that told me it was the right decision.

It went on Craigs List tonight in three cities. 30 minutes later a gentleman from NC told me he would arrive tomorrow night on a roll back with cash in hand. He will come and when he leaves the car will leave with him. Only this time, there is no open wound , only a little sadness that five minutes with my wife and two little girls will take care of on any given day.

Of course, I reserved the right ahead of time to buy another car one day when times are better and that wonderful woman I am married to said " of course babe". I don't know if I will ever own another 69 Camaro or not. It doesn't matter like it once did. And for that I am thankful. It is good to know that what matters the most isn't in the shop, it's in the house. And that lesson has been a long one to learn.

Shaaky