<VV> 1964 Spyder Convertible for sale, low mileage.

[Shaun]

A day early, and I'll bet that $1 the car cost is still in your pocket.
yea, Vairily ... Shaun

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Harold Eigenman" <harold@kepnet.net>
To: <virtualvairs@corvair.org>
Sent: Wednesday, March 31, 2004 6:16 AM
Subject: <VV> 1964 Spyder Convertible for sale, low mileage.


> From time to time I get phone calls from people informing me of the
> whereabouts of Corvairs sitting out in barns or back lots. You never know
when
> one of those calls may be just as good as they claim. Usually the person
> telling you about the "like new" car doesn't know an early from a late.
Well,
> just a few days ago a lady called me and said her husband had passed on
and
> that his Corvair was for sale and wondered if I was interested. I said I
might
> be and ask her what the year and model might be. She said she never was
very
> interested in the car as she had her own car, a Corvette, and said she
hardly
> ever drove it except sometimes on Sundays if the weather was nice and she
> could put the top down and drive out to the golf course for brunch.
Likewise,
> she said her husband took extremely good care of the Corvair, as a matter
of
> fact, she said he just worshipped that car and when ever he went some
place,
> instead of driving the Corvair, he would take the shuttle bus that makes a
> stop right in front of their home, so it was very convenient for him and
he
> would rather not get the Corvair out of the garage and take a chance on
> getting it dirty. This dear lady stopped talking to catch her breath and I
> quickly asked her directions to her home so that I might see this car, she
> said that she would like to make sure that she could get the garage open
and
> she would have a locksmith come by the garage and see if he could figure
out
> the combination to the lock. It seems that her husband, may he rest in
peace,
> had a vault door installed on the garage and didn't share the combination
with
> his wife. She said she would call me back in a few days providing the
> locksmith was successful in breaking the code. Three miserable days drug
by
> and then she called, I was so hot to see this Vair that I was about to
jump
> out of my skin and at my age that isn't easy. She gave me the directions
to
> her house and I said I'm on my way. It was about three miles away across
town,
> I ran two stop signs and one red light, gosh knows I don't want anyone to
beat
> me to this jewel that has been locked away. I kept dreaming that this one
is
> the one that will make up for all those fruitless dry runs to look at beat
up
> Corvairs that even Pic-a-Part would reject. As I steamed into her drive
way,
> almost rear-ending her Corvette, I noticed the roof on the garage had a
very
> steep angle to it, very much like some older church buildings. The lady
met me
> as I got out of my van and she said that she had cleaned the Corvair off
the
> previous day so it would look a little more presentable. When we entered
the
> garage, it struck me why she had said her husband had worshipped this car.
The
> Vair was about three feet off the floor on what appeared to be slabs of
marble
> and at the base of this were various sizes of candles, some partly used
and
> some fresh. Back about six feet from the marble base was what looked like
a
> kneeling rail. On top of this heap of marble (?) was one of the prettiest
red
> ' 64 Corvair Spyder Convertibles I have ever laid eyes on. The lady was
very
> anxious to know what I thought of it and I could hardly suppress my desire
to
> just jump up and down with glee. She said " I don't expect to get a lot
for
> the car as to my knowledge I don't recall my husband ever running it".
Also
> she said she had a new battery installed the day before and she hoped it
would
> start. I walked over to the driver's side door and peeked in at the
odometer.
> The numbers read 00003.5. WOW! My heart did a couple of flip-flops in my
> throat and if I hadn't gritted my teeth it would probably flopped right
out on
> that garage floor, which was clean enough you could eat off of it. I
thought
> to myself, this car got that mileage put on it from the Chevy agency to
this
> Cathedral, I mean garage. Well, so much for the preliminaries, time to
start
> haggling. How in the world are we going to get this jewel off the podium?
She
> must of read my mind cause she said there were a couple of ramps out
behind
> the garage. We brought these inside, I said "we", actually, this lady is
built
> like Arnold Shortzenleger and she placed them up next to the front of the
> Convert in line with the front tires and said that ought to get it down to
> ground level. I eagerly jumped into the driver's seat, the keys were
already
> in the ignition switch, I nervously pumped the throttle pedal as I twisted
the
> key to the start position. The fuel gauge indicated one fourth of a tank
of
> fuel. She said she had some gas put in the tank by the fellow that
installed
> the new battery. After a few seconds of cranking and pumping the engine
fired
> off. The valve lifters started talking in a language I've heard before but
> just as soon not. After the engine warmed up a bit I stepped on the clutch
> pedal and tried to put the transmission in low gear. It wouldn't go.
Clutch
> disc stuck to the flywheel or cover assembly or both. No problem, just
kill
> the engine, put it in third gear, hold the clutch pedal down, and restart
the
> engine. This usually works to break the disc loose, sometimes, but not
this
> time. The Carb was still on fast idle and when the engine lit off, the
whole
> car catapulted right off that marble plateau without even touching the
ramps
> and out the door of the garage me and the convert went, The steering was a
> little stiff from sifting all those years and before I could get the car
aimed
> in the right direction, the Corvette was a little in my way. Amazing how
that
> fiberglass will shatter so easily sometimes and this happen to be one of
those
> times. The Corvair is a solid little doogger and it didn't suffer too much
but
> the left rear fender of the Vette parted company from the body,
fortunately
> none of the flying pieces struck my van. I was trying desperately to get
the
> Corvair under control but as it ricochet down the drive way, a fire plug
> jumped out in front of me. We won again, that little turbo came on strong
and
> took that fire plug out with no strain. Most water I've seen in a long
time.
> By this time, with the left side of the Corvair all crinkled and the front
> bumper looking like a pretzel, I was having second thoughts about buying
the
> car. After all, who wants a car that has a mind of its own. Finally, I got
the
> car under control and slowed down a bit, as I applied the brakes, the
right
> front brake locked up and lucky for me there was a new Cad sitting at the
curb
> that helped me to stop.. As the Corvair ripped the driver's door off the
Cad,
> I heard the door buzzer sound. It just kept buzzing, then I realized it
was my
> alarm clock going off. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed the
Calendar,
> April 1, 2004
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