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The 60 T-BIRD
It was my one and only T-Bird. Not a new car, but with all the mileage, it looked and rode like a dream. It was also a convertible. Not as famous as the early two-seaters, but sporty with room inside. It was powder blue with blue and white interior. The trunk was hinged at the back and when the top was lowered, the trunk raised and it powered into the trunk. When the trunk closed a matching metal filler piece took the place of a boot. Pure class.
It was a "chick getter". To enhance my chances I had a secret weapon. I had taken one of those "less than a 1/2 mile" radio transmitter kits and converted it to 12 volts dc. I used an antenna switch to my CB antenna allowing me greater output. It worked great.
Whatever city I was in I had a dial that would tune my transmitter to the most popular 50's and 60's AM music station. When I was behind or along side a vehicle that had a prospective new lady friend or two, I would start transmitting. At that close range, it would block out the radio station and allow me to try out some well-rehearsed lines. It worked almost as often as not. Both T-Bird and transmitter increased my popularity with male friends and new females friends alike.
The T-Bird started to burn oil. Next, the top would lock up in the trunk. When it took a half hour to get the top up in a quick rain shower, I was ready to trade. One particular lady who I had met "over the air waves" had a father who sold cars. I brought in the T-Bird. I told him about the sticking trunk. He had a mechanic go over the car. He sold me a 64 1/2 Mustang 289 high performance convertible with blower. It had only been used as a pace car.
We struck a very good deal and by the time the bank had OK'd the transaction, the advertising had been removed from the exterior of the Mustang. I brought in the T-Bird. I drove away in the Mustang, another quality car. I did not miss the T-Bird at all. At least not for three days.
That was when I remembered that I had kept "emergency money", (2) one hundred dollar bills, in a drill case in my toolbox. The toolbox was in the trunk of T-Bird. So was my transmitter. I didn't call, but drove to the dealer immediately. When I arrived I explained that I had forgotten my toolbox. He said the car was sold. I asked for an address. He gave it to me.
The address was a junk dealer. Apparently when the T-bird would not back away from the curb, the transmission had “give up the Ghost”. Too much to fool with now, the dealer sold it for junk. I went to the junkyard and I explained about the toolbox. I asked if it was in the car. He told me the trunk didn't work and he did not know. I asked if I could look. He said OK, pointed and snickered. I looked in that direction but could not see the T-Bird. He pointed again.
Then I saw it, a large bale of metal with powder blue pieces scattered through out. It had been crushed. So was I. (Also $200 poorer and in need of new tools.)------------------------------------------------------
T-Bird Short Stories
My brother was driving now. He asked to borrow the T-bird. Whatever the occasion, I said yes. While going from Park to Drive, you go through Reverse, and then Neutral before getting to the Drive position. He never made it past Reverse.
The T-bird went back. A neighbor’s Chevy Corvair was behind. Not a scratch on the Bird. The Corvair was a disaster. So were my insurance payments.
Shortly after we went to Langhorn, PA where we managed to get him a nice Chevy. (That trip is another story.)
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My younger cousin was in auto shop in high school. He had a knack for mechanics so when he offered to take my T-bird in to give it a free tune up, I couldn’t refuse. Because of this or that it was awhile before I got the T-bird back.
You would be amazed at the number of miles on the odometer to do a “tune-up”.
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