Joey's still paying me

Subsequent to the aforementioned shopping trip, I got to select the movie on pay-per-view. She accused me of retribution, but I was simply applying the “Boggy Principle.” You can pick your own symbol of the genre, but “The Legend of Boggy Creek” was a movie so horrific in every dimension that it achieved cult status. And, unintentional hilarity.

This flick showed great potential. Set in the 1800s, it melded cowboys and aliens (aluminum foil grade special effects), with a dose of self-righteous preaching about the evils of nuclear power, sexism and profiteering. Yes, I did say the 1800s. And nothing says 19th century Colorado like 21st century Romanian countryside. My last vacation had a bigger budget than this film and probably lasted longer than the shooting. There’s no way this couldn’t soar to a new low.

My companion had her finger poised on the button as the closing credits scrolled. Couldn’t wait to kill this one. The screen switched back to a cable channel and she prepared to banish reception altogether, but I grabbed the remote. “Just give me five minutes of this.”

It was Mecum’s Muscle & Classic Car auction. What Sotheby’s is to some, this is to me.

She knew five meant twenty, but sighed in resignation and tried to get into it. “That’s the same car as the last one. Why is it selling for $20,000 more?”

The same car? How could she be so unfeeling? “Because this one has the big block. Someone was smart enough to go a few hundred more back then that turned into five figures, now.”

Her eyebrows knit in calculation. “So, another five cubic inches a cylinder makes a difference.”

“No, it doesn’t make a difference. It makes all the difference.”

I did some work for Joey during my teenage years. He’d pay me a decent hourly wage to work on his personal cars and boats. Sometimes he’d come out to the warehouse to check on progress and would hold forth on his philosophies. Years before, I had been an avid reader on the life of Benjamin Franklin and had decided that one secret of life was learning from people who achieved things.

Joey was no Ben Franklin. But, he was a guy who started with nothing and built a small empire of car dealerships and racing enterprises. When Joey spoke, I listened.

One of the things he said was that you always buy a high ticket item as though you were going to sell it tomorrow. That is, maintain value. So, if you were ordering a new car, as an example, you would go for the most desired options and colors. If you were buying something used and maybe a bit esoteric, you paid bottom dollar so you wouldn’t lose anything, should you decide to liquidate.

The lesson in the auction was that people who buy muscle cars usually want muscle. Period. A few extra bucks in more muscle yielded a fantastic return on investment.

“And you apply this now, when you buy your kayaks?”

“Yeah, I can think of four right off the bat that people already have dibs on, should I decide to sell. I also bought a Harley in the 80s, rode it for five years and sold it for about double what I paid.”

“Why didn’t you do that for a living?”

“I thought about it at one point, but decided my preferences would get in the way. I probably should’ve done it on a smaller scale as investing.”

“What? What’s that look?”

“Let’s fire up your computer. I want to see something.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that you start doing that this minute.”

I wasn’t thinking that, but this line of thought tugged at something that had barely registered during the movie. We went up to her computer and I did a quick search of a certain kind of auction site.

“What is that?”

Many years ago, I received firearms training. Subsequently, I joined a sportsmen’s club to maintain the edge with some target shooting. One of the revolvers I acquired wasn’t well suited for plinking, so it has resided in the bottom of my safe for a long time. “That is a Colt Python .357 Magnum.” Among the many things in the movie that was an anomaly in its time frame was a gun that wasn’t manufactured until past the midpoint of the following century.

“It’s a bit expensive.”

“Now it is, but I didn’t pay near that back when.” Cha-ching! “I did go some extra bucks for stainless steel. Let me find one of those.”

“Wow, that’s outrageous.”

“Yes, it is.” Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching! I figure the investment in the stainless option returned about 1,000-1,200%. Not bad as ROIs go.

She elbowed me playfully. “You could sell that and take me on a few more shopping sprees.”

“Sure.” Or, I could buy a few more kayaks.

Joey may have thought we were square back in ’66. But, as far as I’m concerned, he’s been paying me ever since.