Blog

With the excuse of revamping our website, our humble group has decided that a blog or two would be a good idea. We'll see...

I hope to add a weekly story or two that can add a little fodder to the car world.

Here goes with a little story about a visit to the Artcurial Auction in Paris during Retromobile last month.

A remarkable price realized for a rather unremarkable DB4... or, upon closer inspection, you'll discover what the hoo-hah and trend is now all about.

The price guide has been recalibrated once again as I attempt to unravel the mystery of how "unremarkable" has become the new "amazingly remarkable." Confused yet?

Let me un-wrap the preceding paragraph and the Parisian auction process as a bonus.

First the baffling Franco auction scene. Close your eyes and think back, humor me, to your formidable college years, the ones that involved an overheated, dry, windowless auditorium. Stubbornly overcrowded and perhaps involving an Armenian / Pakistani / Russian tongued professor who was rambling at such an incomprehensible pace his accent was the least of your worries. How do you focus? You were behind before he even got started. You were clueless and failing before you signed up for the class. Got it? Remember that physical & mental uncomfortable surrounding? Well that is a nice way of describing an American in Paris visiting the Arturial auction house. Talk about your classic culture shock. Not speaking fluent French was the least of my worries.

This auction venue during Retromobile was simply bizarro world compared to events in the USA & UK. The above-described room is no exaggeration mon ami. I attended, I nodded, I left empty handed.

When the show started I could make out the auctioneer easily enough, a DeGaulle-esque leader with a wooden pointer, he was in charge of the scene; but who was his accomplice and what was his purpose? The mystery man who was parroting DeGaulle's every word, if you will. Standing not but three paces ahead of the auctioneer and yammering with such a sing-song cadence, half a syllable behind in the same language echoing every word! Great, two pig-latin speaking professors having at it in a tempo that only needed dancing girls to finish the theatrical effect. Why the need for two people rabbiting on? Why is one mimicking the other? The French appeal for Jerry Lewis & Mickey Rourke is a relative cake walk compared to understanding this podium chaos & Clouseau silliness.

More foreign still was the quiet calamity of the crowd. Catholic wakes have more life. A room full of the buried Terra Cotta soldiers from China would show more physical movement. I'd need night vision goggles, a sight dog and three interpreters to point out the ROW any winning bid came from. Man, I was the proverbial fish on the bicycle here....please someone, yawn, stretch, show that much excitement or clap. Winning bids are happening in an auditorium full of people sleeping with their eyes open, that's the best way to describe it... honestly.

Onward to lot #21, the 1961 Series III Aston Martin DB4. I ventured across Paris hopefully to buy this lot and was dreaming it would knock my socks off in person.  Not so much at first glance.

Here was my immediate discovery with knee jerk observations.

First and foremost Series III DB4s are the red headed step children of DB4s, no one specifically ever asks for one, can't change that. They're the middle child that every family has few photos of. Not old enough to be the first and not young enough to be the most advanced.

This car had a few whopper door dings, a DB2/4 MKIII steering wheel (curious to know if it was ordered like that), DB5 Selectaride (huh?), unfortunate non-original chrome strips on the rockers and paint that was as dull as a ride in a new Kia. Bumpers a bit pitted, engine bay could use a few hours of tidying and the Avon Turbo-Squirms were correct (maybe original) but really dated and no help to the drive...but here's where the collector car world takes those minor irritations and goes 180 degrees on us. I was micro nit picking an incredible jewel.

Behind my head fake of said aforementioned irritations this car was otherwise 100% complete & original down to the chassis number chalk marks on the underside of the rear seats. This DB4 possessed that amazing scent of old Connolly leather that only an honest Aston can have. Glorious!  Tools, engine markings, manual, factory correspondence, killer panel fit and a like-new straight chassis really showed that this one-owner car was truly loved better than most family members.  I've only seen four other cars as original as this in the last 22 years and three of them have had that beauty and charm restored right out of them. Sacre bleu! A retrospective tear is being shed here, pity really.

So it's bidding time. I figured this car to be a $275-300k DB4 all in back home. Most buyers would not see the value in such a glorious car but it was worth a shot. Well, before I could say "HEY CHUCK, LOOK THIS WAY, I WANT TO BID!" the sing-song helper blew past the auction estimates and rapidly hit the 300k Euro mark. Well, so much for being an expert in such things, time to get some fresh air and digest what I just witnessed.
 
Playing the part of Louis Lament back at dinner, the obvious had struck square in the choppers. A car is only original once and this is proof positive AGAIN that a really savvy collector will pay much more for that than he would a restored car. A car in this shape, with all of its' warts and blemishes is exactly what has become de rigeur for the truly clever buyers in this hobby. Anyone can own a restored trailer queen but the very few great original cars that still exist are being coveted by the real educated buyers. Price guides can be used as kindling or emergency t.p. in these instances, no one can figure what a 1-owner, honest, low mileage, documented classic will do, not even an expert in room full of terra cotta statues quietly smashing world record prices while they bid.