Aftermath - John Guzzetta

A PENNY FOR THE OLD MAN

You may have asked what the Mansfield group has been doing after re-entering Earth’s atmosphere over a week ago. For a few days, we washed clothes…more clothes than we ever thought we owned. The Model A even got washed after a week or so, and we examined the old warhorse for new battle scars. Some of us went back to daily pursuits, and the more neurotic among us kept driving…at night…in our dreams. I claim another 1000 miles, nocturnally. I’m still driving that yellow pickup every night to an un-named destination…with weird obstacles along the way. In hopes of leaving the dreams behind, we went to the Jess Blaker estate auction in Turlock this last Friday. We previewed the entire collection of antique cars, clocks, player pianos, car parts and memorabilia on Friday, and stayed overnight at the local Motel 6…I drove another 400 miles in my “A” to nowhere in my dreams that night…

Early the next morning, I knocked on Bob & Patti’s door (#131), and # 133 (Ray & Linda) were already up and ready for another breakfast experience at the McDonald’s next door. This was very reminiscent of an ordeal we had just experienced! Early rising in a strange motel room and fine morning cuisine…brushing your teeth, if there’s time…is my underwear clean? Am I wearing underwear? What am I doing here?

We all trooped down to the auction early. Way early. Got good seats. Up front, so they could see our bid cards clearly when we won that neat yellow speedster. Maybe the little red Maxwell Roadster…2 cylinders! Or that C cab with the calliope in the back…

Bob & Shirley and Dave & Susan came in on Saturday morning…now, this was becoming real familiar! Like dejavue…

Apparently, we’ve been on the road much too long. People with real money to spend had come in from all over the country…in fact from other countries, as well as nosing in on the internet…and none of them gave us a break. I raised my bid card once or twice, but I think they laughed at me.

So, we didn’t come home with anything that Jess Blaker had collected over the years. No Regulator clocks, no Rolls Royces, no little yellow speedsters and no parts piled up on pallets with a numbered tag on a pile of rust. People with big checkbooks, people who flew in on private jets, people, who for the most part, never met the man, took his things away. But according to Judy, it was fun. An experience. And it was certainly cheap at the price. I have to get to bed…time to drive…

John Guzzetta
Ps: in the middle of the auction, 100 miles from home, among maybe 1000 or more people…guess who popped up? Yep…
Twilight Zone…