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The notch that almost was...


Warning: This story is sad enough to make grown men weep...and us 
librarians blubber!

Last Wednesday a young man agreed to sell me his '63 notchback for
$1250 because he had a desperate need for quick cash.  We shook hands
and spit on the sidewalk (which makes a deal legally binding here) and
agreed to meet the next day (Thursday) to complete the transaction.

Then in my unabated excitement I notified the entire world that I owned
a '63 notch.

Thursday...he never showed up.  Friday, ditto.  Then on Saturday he called
from Salt Lake City, where he had driven the notch and had sold it for
(he claims) $7500!

Now in my unabated mental depression I am announcing to the world that I
do NOT own a '63 notch.  Oh well, you lose some and you lose some.

My wife assured me that the way out of a mental funk was to buy something....so I
took my money and went out and bought an air compressor so I can paint her
'69 FB.  Hey, her suggestion works...I feel better already.

Whatever else happens to me in the future, I will always know that for 
one brief moment in my life I "owned" a notchback.  Sigh.

Phil
dillard@suu.edu

"notchless in Utah"



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