The AACA Annual Meeting in Philly, Feb. 2019

February 10, 2019 RichardReina Car shows, Events AACA

The Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) held it 83^rd annual meeting at the “Philadelphia 201 Hotel” in Center City Philly PA on February 8 & 9, 2019. The AACA has a long history of annual meetings in the City of Brotherly Love – you can read more about that history here. The show was also covered on the blog last year. This year, for the first time, I spent Friday night in the hotel so that I could attend both days. My primary interest was the judging school, and more about that in a bit.

This is not a car show per se. Rather, the principal activities for registrants (you must be an AACA member to attend) are seminars on a variety of topics; judging school; a trade show; a general membership meeting; and the Saturday night awards banquet. The host hotel is nicely set up for this, with the trade show in a large room to accommodate vendors’ booths and displays, and conference rooms of various sizes for the seminars. Everything is within a few minutes’ walk, with no need to venture outdoors into the 32-degree winter weather.

The seminars I attended included “Market Value Trends”, “The History of the Ford Mustang”, “Keeping Tabs on Hobby-Related Legislation”, “The History of the Ford Flathead V8 Engine”, “Planning Your Collector Car Estate”, and “Modern Motor Oils”.

Almost every AACA event offers a judging school. By AACA rules, all judges must attend at least one judging school per calendar year, so there’s good reason for the frequent offerings. My plan is to judge at the NJ Region’s upcoming National in Parsippany in June, so I need to increase my judging credits. I attended the school on Saturday morning, and it’s refreshing to (re)learn that as strict as the judging guidelines are, the Club also recognizes that this is a hobby, and we all are doing this for fun.

The trade show is primarily populated by businesses wishing to promote their wares (restoration shops, books sellers, and appraisal services). Several schools and colleges which now cater to the hobby also had a presence. AACA takes up significant real estate just trying to sell clothing and tchotchkes. The NJ Region set up a booth to promote the June National, and I spent several hours each day in the booth to talk up our event with attendees. I was pleasantly surprised to meet AACA members from as far as Indiana and Florida who expressed interest in attending.

The Annual Meeting is quite different from a meet or a tour: you are not there to ogle beautifully restored cars. However, it is very much like any other AACA event in that it’s about mingling with those who share a passion for the hobby. There was plenty of time to catch up with old friends and become acquainted with new ones. For that reason alone, it’s worth making the trek each February to Philly.

MARKET VALUE TRENDS SEMINAR

Larry Batton of the Auto Appraisal Group presented results from the recently concluded Arizona auctions. Larry’s style is unpretentious, upfront, opinionated, and straightforward. Whether you’re an auction veteran or someone who wonders what the fuss is all about, it’s enlightening to hear some of his behind-the-scenes stories.

HISTORY OF THE FORD MUSTANG SEMINAR

Mark Young is a 4th generation Ford enthusiast, and that’s putting it mildly. His great-grandfather owned one of the earliest Ford dealerships, a business he started in 1910. I lost count of how many Mustangs are in Mark’s immediate family, but it’s 7 or 8 (plus a few T-Birds). Mark gave a credible and succinct summary of the original pony car’s success and what it has meant for the Blue Oval fans.

HISTORY OF THE FORD FLATHEAD V8 ENGINE SEMINAR

There were many V8 engines in existence before Ford introduced theirs in 1932. But none were as low-priced nor as mass-produced as the “flattie” was; it stayed in production just over 20 years. Dain King, an entertaining man in his own right, provided the interesting back story (for example, Ford engineers scoured junk yards to buy up V8s from other companies, so they could disassemble and see what they could learn from them).

KEEPING TABS ON HOBBY RELATED LEGISLATION SEMINAR

Colby Martin from SEMA (Specialty Equipment Manufacturers Association) made the presentation, which was not a bashing of government regulations. Rather, it was an overview regarding how a regulated industry which seeks fairness and consistency can have a voice. One point of great interest that he showed was a lengthy list of Congresspeople from both parties who have identified themselves as “friends and advocates for the automotive hobby”. It’s good to know that such people exist.

PLANNING YOUR COLLECTOR CAR ESTATE SEMINAR

Father-and-son duo Tony and Mario Monopoli provided a series of common-sense suggestions to help ensure that upon your demise, your heirs either have your cash, or know how to turn your “stuff” into cash. Tony confessed that for the past few years, he’s been getting rid of his stuff on eBay so that he has the cash while he’s still around. If you’re keeping what you have for now, Tony suggested making lists (what you own, what it’s worth, and where it’s located) and making sure your descendants have copies of the lists.

MODERN MOTOR OILS SEMINAR

Part chemistry class, part history class, and part sales pitch, Larry Giancola, who unabashedly works for AmsOil, provided more information than you need about base oils, index modifiers, and viscosity, as well as phosphorus, calcium, and zinc (for a moment, I thought I was in nutrition class). While touting the benefits of the oil he sells, Larry also kept it real. One revelation was the discussion around Direct Injection (DI) engines and the havoc they are causing. He pointed out that the vehicle manufacturers have specifically requested that the engine oil manufacturers produce an engine oil (SN+) to address this, and they have.

AACA JUDGING SCHOOL

Dain King and Stan Kulikowski did a wonderful job explaining the intricacies of AACA’s judging rules and points system. All class cars start at 400 points, with points deducted for faults. Cars are judged first on authenticity, and only then on condition. To provide a simple example: if a 1940 Ford is on the show field with radial tires (non-authentic), that car would lose maximum point value for 4 inauthentic tires. If a different 1940 Ford had bias-ply tires correct for that year, but only one of the 4 was half worn while the other 3 appeared new, it would lose nothing for authenticity, but lose condition points for only that one worn tire. As stated earlier, they stressed that this is a hobby, and the judge’s job is not to “destroy” someone’s work with a few stokes of a pen. All in all, it was a very enlightening session.

The Isetta Saga, Chapter 18: Making the Final Connections

February 3, 2019 RichardReina BMW Isetta, Events, Repair sessions BMW Isetta

It had been some wedding! The body and chassis were reunited. Now the party was over. The guests had departed. It was time to get back to work and make the reunion more permanent. The upcoming week was a vacation week for me so that I could fully apply myself. It felt as though I were days away from actually driving the creature.

First item on the to-do list: install new sound-deadening material to the interior. The commercially-available products seen in every old car magazine were one choice (Dynamat is one well-known brand). However, they are pricey, even for a car as small as an Isetta. Another issue was my desire to adhere as closely as possible to the original treatment, which resembled tar paper. (The new-fangled stuff is thick and shiny and more appropriate for a drafty ‘50s British roadster or a noisy ‘60s muscle car.)

When conveying my indecision to my neighbor, he gave me a great suggestion: a visit to Home Depot would likely yield a roll of black roofing material which could be purchased for a reasonable number. For $9.97, I bought a roll which could have completed multiple Isettas! The measuring and the cutting began.

**“30 LB FELT”, a deal at $9.97 (plus tax of course)**

The wiring harnesses were next. The Isetta has two: a front main harness, and a rear harness. I had earlier disassembled, cleaned, and re-sheathed them, and they were ready to be put back into place. This was a clear case of my earlier photography coming to the rescue, as it was the photos taken during disassembly which portrayed the exact locations and connections for the wiring.

The electrical system of the vehicle is as simple as it gets: front and rear exterior lights, dashboard warning lights, and the starting/charging system. No power seats, no climate control. The test-firing of the engine way back in March of that year meant that I had the battery, Dynastart, and voltage regulator connections down, so with the body resting on top of the chassis, I only needed to bring those wires to their permanent spots.

The ignition switch was a trouble spot. I had an original one, but no key for it. There was a key code on the outside of the cylinder, but efforts to find someone who could create a working key for it were futile. One gent at the local auto parts store was very patient with me as I sought solutions to a car for which he had no listings. We tried several aftermarket ignition switches, but the first few were physically too large to fit within the minuscule dash pod. Finally, he found a switch that fit. He got to know me, and came to be of great assistance on several other small universal parts I needed.

The seat had been sent out to a local upholstery shop. Here, I purposely deviated from original, as American-market Isettas used a patterned vinyl upholstery, and I did not want to sit on vinyl. Instead, I chose a beige corduroy with off-white piping. The beige seat came close to matching the beige fabric sunroof, and since I always like red & beige on Ferraris, I thought “why not?”

The steering wheel, column, dashboard, and pedals are a major subassembly unto themselves, and these were bolted into place, with pedals connected to the undercar linkages. To the left of the steering wheel, the shifter was joined to the rear-mounted transmission. Once I readjusted the clutch, I was able to shift into all four forward gears and reverse gear.

**Ready for the seat (towels protect inner fender paint)**

All the work recounted here took two weeks, bringing me to Labor Day weekend. That Sunday night, September 3, 1995, I discovered that the car’s battery was flat from sitting. I put it on trickle charge overnight. The next day was Labor Day. In the morning, I would attempt to start the Isetta, put it into gear, and be behind the wheel when it would move under its own power for the first time under my 17 years of ownership.

The Isetta Saga, Chapter 17: The Body & Chassis “Wedding”

January 27, 2019 RichardReina BMW Isetta, Events, Repair sessions BMW Isetta

During the restoration of the Isetta, a frequent question presented to me was “what motivates you to keep going?” Of course, I wanted to see the project reach a successful conclusion, but setbacks, and there were a few, can be demotivating. There were times I questioned my own sanity, as in, “why am I spending so much time, money and effort to restore a 13-horsepower bubble car from the 1950s that most people have never heard of?” With everyday life (job, family, house) swirling around me, I was occasionally tempted to quit the whole deal.

One of my mantras during this 5+ year stretch was “celebrate your successes”. Reaching certain milestones not only feels great, but the achievement can be shared with others, which then inspires you to keep moving forward.

In August of 1995, I was ready for such a celebration: the Isetta body shell, freshly painted and just back from “The Shop”, was about to be reunited with the mechanically-restored chassis. In a traditional automobile assembly plant, the moment of “marrying” the up-until-then separate body and chassis is called the marriage point. So, in honor of that event’s facsimile, we decided to host a wedding. Before, um, consummating this union, since the shiny and clean chassis was about to be covered up again, a final set of photographs was taken to document its return to as-new glory.

The wedding was scheduled for Sunday, August 20, 1995, and since a wedding must have guests, a small ensemble was invited. (Memory doesn’t recall whether any of the invitees were tipped off that there was work to be done before food and beverages would be served.) The chassis was staged in the driveway just beyond the garage doors, with the body patiently hanging out in the garage on four jack stands.

Five intrepid groomspeople (Chris Beyer, John Maggio, Dennis & Ann Marie Nash, and Don Dahringer) vaulted the body back into the daylight. Spotters were assigned to eyeball the body’s descent so that nothing was injured. It took a few moments to clear all the obstacles, but the (re)union was a success.

A video camera (thanks, John) was rolling to capture the event. You can view a 12-minute excerpt at this YouTube clip here:

Whew! My nervous excitement is palatable to me as I watch myself nervously pace back and forth and around the car. In all seriousness, having a group of friends around me helped alleviate my worries. Once I knew the body shell was resting on the chassis rails, we popped the champagne, ate some BBQ, and of course, shared dessert in the form of a wedding cake:

The end of the push to make “The Isetta Drive in ‘95” was close, really, truly close. The steering, pedals, wiring harness, ignition, and seat all needed to be installed and connected. The motivation was the knowledge that I was perhaps a few short weeks away from driving my Isetta for the first time since buying it as a disassembled heap in 1978.

**It almost looks ready to drive. Almost.**

(Special thanks to my Creative Team pals Cody, Eslam, and Greg for their video-editing assistance. You guys are the DUDES.)

The Isetta Saga, Chapter 16: The Painted Body Comes Home

January 20, 2019 RichardReina BMW Isetta, Events, Repair sessions BMW Isetta

Jody Fitzpatrick, proprietor of “The Shop” in Maplewood NJ, had my Isetta in his possession for one day shy of five weeks. His work was completed, done, finished. I breathed a huge sigh of relief if only for his ability to accurately predict his work timeline, originally estimated at “3 to 4 weeks”. This was close enough. There wouldn’t be any restoration shop horror stories in my future.

Chris Beyer, work colleague, neighbor, and friend, had accompanied me when I dropped off the Isetta body. When I told him that it was ready for pick-up, he was ready and willing to join me again.

The date was Friday July 28, 1995. Nothing in my notes or my memory explains how Chris and I both happened to be off from work that day; but we were. It was a sweltering humid day, hotter than the previous days had been during what was already an oppressive summer. Cranking the A/C in my Volvo 850 wagon did little help; nothing was going to cool me enough to dissipate my nervous excitement over seeing the painted shell.

At our arrival, Jody strolled out to greet us, looking and acting nonchalant. “How come HE’S so cool?” I asked no one. Perhaps because he does this every day, and, it’s not his car, and, he just wants to get paid, replied the voice in my head. The body shell, of course, looked perfect, almost too much so. I was afraid to touch it, but with Jody and Chris’s help, we got the same 2x4s bolted back to its underside, and then to the trailer floor.

**The red 850, ready to tow home the red Isetta (note dolly and plywood in lower right of photo)**

**From ugly duckling to gorgeous swan (obviously, beauty is in the eye of the beholder)**

**Chris and I pose in parking lot of The Shop**

Jody got his check, I got my receipt and my obligatory photos, and we were on our way. I must have glanced in the rear view mirror about every 12 seconds to make sure the body was still there. At a red light on the way home, several male teens yelled out “hey, it’s the Urkel-mobile!” Oh My God, I thought, am I going to be hearing this for the duration of my ownership of this thing? (The short answer to that question is “yes”.)

Leaving the 2x4s in place for now, we carried the body into the garage, and back onto my makeshift dolly. I posed it next to the completed chassis, fully aware that in a few days, five years of mechanical work would be covered forever (or at least until the car is re-restored in 2095).

**Light buckets and other externals at the ready**

What work was remaining before reuniting the body and chassis? The body’s hand-painted underside now had primer overspray on it, so that got yet another coat of gloss red. The headlight and tail light buckets were bolted on. The fuel tank, which had earlier been restored by coating it with Bill Hirsch’s GasTank Sealer, was secured in place. The 2x4s were finally removed, and the body was placed onto 4 jack stands.

**Gas tank bolted into place (note fuel tap in upper left)**

In an auto assembly plant, the moment when the car’s body, on one conveyor, is lowered onto a complete chassis, arriving on another conveyor, is called “the marriage point”. The Isetta’s 17-year courtship was coming to an end. It was time to host a wedding party and consummate this marriage.

The Isetta Saga, Chapter 15: Documenting the Body Restoration Progress

January 12, 2019 RichardReina BMW Isetta, Events, Repair sessions BMW Isetta

Jody Fitzpatrick, proprietor of “The Shop” in Maplewood NJ, was my choice to oversee the body restoration of the Isetta for many reasons: he was personally recommended, the business was nearby my residence, his pricing was fair, we had a mutual understanding of what “done” looked like, and his estimated timeframe was reasonable. Another reason is that Jody assured me that I could visit and observe the progress whenever I desired (sort of like conjugal visits for the incarcerated).

Having read more than one “restoration shop horror story” (the car gets pushed to the back, 6 months pass with no progress, the shop demands more upfront money, they lose your car keys, or worst, they close the business and lock the doors with your car inside), having visitation rights was refreshing.

So visit I did.

Three times during that hot July of 1995, I stopped in to have a peek and to snap a few snaps. Jody was always very accommodating and genuinely happy to see me, and gave me free rein to walk around my car and chat up the crew doing the actual labor.

During the first visit, employees were using homemade scrapers to remove the paint. They had decided against chemical dipping or media blasting, fearful of inflicting further damage. They also hammered out any dents and other rough spots, in preparation for some minor welding and an eventual skim coat of putty in spots. (From my own research, I had come to learn that any talk of body repair that doesn’t involve some small use of plastic filler is fantasy.)

THE SHELL IN THE PROCESS OF PAINT BEING REMOVED:

During this visit, Jody and I also finalized the choice of paint color. There was no known “official 1957 BMW Isetta paint code chart” we could refer to, so we did the next best thing. Sampling the unfaded paint we found under the BMW roundel on the door, we matched that to the closest shade among the modern paint code charts in Jody’s possession. We both agreed that the 1995 Ford Mustang shade of “Performance Red” was it. Jody stressed another advantage: should the car need touch-up or repair in the future, the correct paint would be readily available.

Just a week later, I saw the body with all the original paint gone, and the metal work beginning. I had given Jody a recommendation from John Jensen’s Isetta Restoration book for a method to reinforce the rearmost body panel at the tail lights and rear bumper. This section of the shell was not directly attached to the chassis, and was a known weak spot. Jody stated he would use the printed suggestion to add some additional metal in places.

HAND-SANDING THE FILLER AND THE GUIDE COAT:

During this 2^nd visit, I pointed out a number of drilled holes which needed to be filled. These included where the dealer-installed mud flaps and luggage rack had been, neither of which were to be reinstalled. (I would later discover one which I missed, requiring the purchase of a somewhat pricey accessory in order to cover it!) Jody’s suggestion of grinding down the visible factory welds at the body panel joints was rejected by me, as I had every desire to keep to an original look.

Like a proud papa, I posed alongside the work-in-progress:

The third visit found the body in full primer. With the metal work done and its flanks as smooth as new, it was not difficult to visualize a freshly painted body shell. Jody had the door and all the other exterior pieces at The Shop, but he also generously offered to hang and align the door for me, something that was not part of our initial negotiation. I brought the freshly-plated door hinges with me so that he could do just that.

THE BODY IN FULL PRIMER, JUST PRIOR TO COLOR COAT:

Perhaps the most exciting aspect was that the work was closely adhering to the originally estimated timeframe. Jody said that it might take a week longer than he hoped, but everything looked to be on track for a final pick-up by the end of July. And there were no “pricing surprises” either. Jody had gotten a $2,000 down payment upon drop-off, and he said that all I owed him at completion was the $2,000 balance plus NJ state sales tax.

A few days later I got the call. “It’s ready whenever you are.” That Saturday, I hooked up the trailer to the car and grabbed my checkbook. We were on our way.

The Isetta Saga, Chapter 14: Prepping the Body for Delivery to “The Shop”

January 4, 2019 RichardReina BMW Isetta, Events, Repair sessions

Happy New Year! The most recent posting of the Isetta Saga was Chapter 13, way back in May 2018 (it was a busy summer and fall). It’s time to resume the Saga, with intentions to post subsequent chapters more consistently through the winter months.

Chapter 13 ended on a high note: I had found a somewhat local body repair place in Maplewood NJ, “The Shop”, run by Jody Fitzpatrick, who agreed to take on the job. Jody and I had a verbal agreement that for $4,000 in materials and labor, he would perform all needed metal repair work, plus prime and paint the exterior and interior using a single stage paint. (He offered to clear coat it, but I declined, wanting to keep to the factory appearance.)

Notably, for that price he would NOT paint the underside, and his interior work would be limited to paint only. He would perform no metal prep to the interior (and it really didn’t need it), nor would he cut and buff the interior paint.

He suggested that my prep of the shell should include removing all glass, sunroof, and trim; removing the existing “tar paper” soundproofing; priming the interior panels; and painting the underside with whatever top coat color I chose.

Jody estimated that this body and paint work would take about three to four weeks. If I got the shell to him in June, I’d have it back sometime in July, giving me all of August and September to complete the reassembly of the car. In the grand scheme of things, I envisioned an “Isetta Party” for some time in the autumn. There was a lot to do, but it seemed within reach.

Stripping the body of its mechanical and trim pieces was straightforward. I had had practice with the two other body shells which got similar treatment through the years. Out came all the glass, followed by the bumpers, headlight and tail light buckets, and steering wheel & column. Then the wiring harness was removed as a complete assembly, taking care to tag as many of the terminal connections as possible.

The interior was tackled next. The heavy black tar paper lining the inside of the shell was certainly original. The 38-year-old glue gave me a fight, and I fought back using a heat gun, a putty knife, and lots of grunt work. The final bits were broken loose using a wire brush chucked into my trusty Black & Decker electric drill. Given the age of the car, I went so far as to remove the paint from the floor and wheel wells, so that fresh paint could be applied to bare metal.

**Floor in process of being stripped; broomstick holds door open.**

The only rust-through in the entire body was a hole in the battery box (as the lowest part of the interior, any water which leaked in was going to settle there.) Since this wasn’t an appearance concern, and I’m no body man, the fix was a thick piece of sheet metal stock, bent to shape, glued and riveted into place from the inside. This was done as opposed to covering the hole from the outside in order to provide support for the battery.

**Sheet metal repairs done while you wait**

Once the inside was stripped down to bare metal, the body was tipped up onto its door opening (door removed of course), which provided full access to the underside. I’m not sure how the factory finished off the bottom of the body (if they did at all), but I faced a floorpan completely covered with old paint and surface rust. Like the interior, the underside was brought down to bare metal with wire brushes mounted in an electric drill; tedious work, to state the obvious.

**James Nanry, having assisted with body tilts, poses with his accomplishments**

I decided on a multi-coat approach to provide maximum protection for the sheetmetal. Certainly the car was not going to be driven in inclement weather, but there would still be times when it would be outside in damp and humid conditions.

**Midway through the messy job of stripping the underside**

First coat: Bill Hirsch zinc paint prep/converter, to neutralize any remaining rust, and to help convert the surface to accept the paint:

Second coat: Bill Hirsch’s Miracle Paint in sliver (2 coats):

Third coat: Rust-Oleum primer in brown.

Fourth coat: Rust-Oleum red gloss top coat.

**Extraneous parts were delivered along with the body**

The body (along with the door, headlight buckets, engine cover, and instrument panel, all to be painted the same red) was ready to head to “The Shop”. I bought two 2x4s, glued strips of carpet to them, and bolted them to the underside of the shell using existing mounting holes. I then bolted the 2x4s to the wooden floor of my trailer. It was secure. Photos document my dear departed friend Chris Beyer who so graciously and generously accompanied me that day.

My Isetta log book contains this entry for Saturday, June 24, 1995:

Took body to “The Shop” in Maplewood NJ for body restoration. Est. time to complete = 3 wks. Est. price = $4000.

**Deposit of $2000 paid at dropoff; balance due at completion**

Now it was up to Jody. I think I went home and had a stiff drink.

Remembering Irv Gordon

November 18, 2018 RichardReina Car shows, Collector's Corner, Drives, Events Irv Gordon, Volvo 1800S

Irv Gordon passed away last week. It is almost impossible to be in the old-car hobby and not know about Irv and his claim to fame. In 1966, he purchased a brand new ’66 Volvo 1800S coupe, and proceeded to spend the next 50 years driving it everywhere. He eventually surpassed three million miles in the car, and although he spoke of retiring it (Volvo corporate had already gifted him 3 new Volvos), I read that at the time of his death the 1800 had 3.2 million miles on it.

As an employee of Volvo Cars North America, I had more than a passing relationship with the man. While I likely had met him at one corporate event or the other in the 1990’s, it was during my time as a field service representative on Long Island that he and I became friendly.

As I strolled into the service department of Volvoville one morning, there was Irv, sitting in the service area, shuffling some paperwork. At that time, in the late 1990’s, he had a part-time gig at the dealer, performing test drives and attending to some administrative chores. Parked on the street around the corner from the store was the red 1800, of course, as he used it to commute to work. He used it to fetch a cup of coffee in Boston, and he used it to join dealer events in Oregon. How do you think he got to 3,000,000 miles?

Early in our friendship, I asked him, “Irv, what’s the secret your success?” With a pause and a twinkle in his eye, he replied “a strong bladder”. Watching him in action, he had a ready smile, a quick wit, and the patience to answer whatever questions were put to him. Frequently, he would be standing near the car while being questioned, and not one to waste a moment, he’d check various fluids as he spoke. I learned about Irv’s fastidiousness when I watched him pull the dipstick to check the oil level, but then use the few droplets on the end of the stick to lube his hood hinges!

Later, in the early 2000s, I traveled to SEMA with a group of fellow VCNA employees, and Irv was on that trip too. Watching him at SEMA was like watching a rock star, but one who had some degree of modesty attached. Generosity was another trait that perhaps few saw, but I clearly recall one holiday season at Volvo HQ when Irv showed up with several cases to wine to give out to employees.

**Irv’s C70 coupe at my house; it may have had “only” 100k on it**

In the summer of 2010, my wife and I hosted a breakfast at our home for a few of our hobbyist friends. Irv was on the invite list, and I was thrilled that he accepted. The day before breakfast, Irv called me. “Hey Rich, do you think the guys will mind if I drive the C70 coupe instead of the 1800? To tell you the truth, it’s hot, and I wouldn’t mind riding in A/C.” (Do I need to point out that the ’66 did NOT have air?) I said “Irv, I don’t think this crowd gives a hoot what you show up in. We’re just glad to have you join us.”

**Irv and Nick debate who will finish the pancakes**

As Larry and I took over the reins for our Sunday morning breakfast runs, Irv was on our distribution list, but rarely joined. He always had some lame excuse, like, “I’m driving to San Antonio that weekend”. However, in October 2010, he did come out for one of our drives, and even brought the 1800. This was probably the last time I saw Irv.

**Oct. 2010, breakfast, when we were lucky to get 12 people to join us**

I’m glad to have known you, Irv. It was an honor to call you a friend.

The ’93 Miata earns its AACA HPOF award

November 9, 2018 RichardReina Car shows, Events AACA, Hershey, HPOF, Mazda Miata

A frequent question I get is “what makes a car a classic?” There is no one right answer. The definition of such a car can be up to you! If you think your vehicle is “interesting” on some level, and the car is used more for special occasions (anything from Sunday drives to cruise nights) than as a daily driver, then it fits the bill. Who am I to say that a 3-year-old Camaro which is only driven in dry weather to GM-themed events isn’t a collector car?

Attending various shows around the Northeast bears this out. The variety and quality of vehicles at a Boonton NJ cruise night is certainly different than what’s seen at The Greenwich Concours. Driving events run the gamut from our own Sunday breakfast cruises (featuring a “run what you brung” mentality) to the million-dollar cars in the New England 1000 rally. Sometimes there are no rules, and other times the rule book is voluminous.

Attendees at Antique Automobile Club of America (AACA) shows typically see cars which have been restored to the highest professional standards. A true “#1 condition” car is rare, but you’ll find them in the AACA. These cars are almost never driven on the road; the engines are run long enough to move them into and out of an enclosed trailer to preserve their perfected state, and that’s it for the driving.

My first AACA experience was Hershey in the early 1980s. As a young man not yet 30, the rows of perfect Mustangs and T-Birds depressed me into concluding that I’d never have a vehicle which could qualify there. These owners’ cars were judged by arbiters who would dole out trophies and bragging rights, so there was no such thing as “too nice”.

Except, there was. The Overseers at AACA began to realize they had a problem: strictly speaking, their own rule book said that cars should be restored to be as close as possible to “factory new” condition, when in practice many of these cars were better than new. Trim which the factory buffed was now chromed; single-stage paint now wore a clear coat; and unpainted surfaces were now sealed. It’s a condition called “over-restoration”. Some owners complained that their ultra-low mileage never-restored cars were losing out to restorers with deep pockets and questionable taste.

To its credit, AACA created a new judging class: the Historical Preservation of Original Features, or HPOF. The concept was simple: reward vehicle owners whose steeds still were screwed together as the factory did it. Dull paint and worn upholstery didn’t matter, but original equipment and fittings did. The goal was to encourage the preservation of cars in their original state for future generations to observe, study, and learn from them. HPOF has become a very popular category for owners and spectators alike.

As a separate class, there would be no clash in trying to judge an HPOF car against a fully-restored one. An obvious example from the HPOF rule book is paint: a car must wear all or almost all of its original paint to be eligible in this class. In fact, a car which wins an HPOF award and is subsequently repainted will lose its HPOF accreditation.

**Aug. 1996: me with my newly-acquired Miata (no SUVs on the streets yet!)**

When I purchased my 1993 Mazda Miata in 1996, it was a gently-used 3-year-old car with barely 30,000 miles on it. The first-generation “NA” models were still in Mazda showrooms. The Miata got driven a lot, but never in the winter. I kept up with all maintenance on the car, and I can count the total number of repairs on one hand: a clutch slave cylinder, a power antenna, a heater core, and one headlight bulb. (Service items such as hoses, belts, fluids, brakes and tires are all part of routine maintenance.)

**Oct. 2018: the same car on the Hershey show field**

Perhaps the most difficult part of owning this car for 22 years (it now has 104,000 miles) has been avoiding the temptation to modify it. The aftermarket business for the Miata has always been strong and keeps getting stronger. I’ve been tempted to add a turbo; replace the stereo; reupholster the seats; install bigger brakes, wheels, and tires; and add interior wood trim. While a few small changes have occurred (I upgraded the floor mats and replaced some lighting with LED bulbs), the car appears the same as it did when I got it in ’96.

This year, the car turned 25 and became eligible for AACA events. I was excited to enter it into the Hershey show in the HPOF category, and last week, the package arrived informing me that indeed, my 1993 Mazda Miata had earned its HPOF badge. I’m a proud papa, and plan to continue to enter this car in HPOF, notably, in the June 2019 National meet which the NJ Region is hosting in Parsippany NJ. There will be plenty to talk about between now and then.

Sunday Morning Cars & Coffee, Oct. 21, 2018

October 28, 2018 RichardReina Car shows, Events Cars & Coffee, The Fireplace Paramus

Our “Sunday Morning Breakfast Run” has been a semi-regular feature for so long that my partner-in-crime Larry and I decided to mix it up a little bit: we decided to piggyback onto the popular “Cars & Coffee” trend by holding our own such event. We did so for the first time on Sunday October 21, 2018.

BTW, the name “Cars & Coffee” has become so ubiquitous that organizers around the country are creating variations such as “Cars, Coffee & Donuts”, “Cars & Croissants”, “Caffeine & Carburetors”, and “Caffeine & Octane”. I think we’ll stick to “Cars & Coffee” for now.

Our choice of rendezvous was The Fireplace, a Paramus NJ fixture for over 60 years. In its favor, it’s easy to reach (on Route 17), it has an extensive breakfast menu, it’s spacious inside and out, counter service means that everyone orders and pays on their own, and the staff will let you sit and hang out as long as you want (with help-yourself coffee refills always available).

There’s no point in talking about the (poor) weather except to point out that at our inaugural event, the participants and their coffee stayed inside! So much for admiring each other’s machinery. The planned loitering was postponed for a more inviting day.

In all, 12 colleagues showed up for breakfast. Toward the end of our stay, our friend Burton arrived with his newly painted 1961 Corvette. On our way out, we lingered long enough to admire the top-notch paint job. Burton was a real trooper showing up in an open car on a cold and windy morning.

**The crowd gathers near Burton’s freshly-painted ’61 Corvette**

We had considered, and ultimately decided against, a short drive to be conducted after breakfast. Perhaps next spring or summer, with more inviting weather on hand, we can make that part of the event. We certainly did find The Fireplace to be an almost ideal location, so expect to see us return in 2019.

**Our participants, headed by an Alfa Romeo Milano**

AACA Hershey 2018, A Play in 3 Acts: Act III, The Saturday Car Show

October 20, 2018October 23, 2018 RichardReina Car shows, Events AACA Hershey

If you’ve read Act I about the flea market and car corral, and Act II about the auction, then you know that AACA Hershey has a little bit of everything for everyone in this hobby. However, this is still a meet and its raison d’être is the judged show on Saturday.

**Driver’s Participation Class vehicles**

The AACA judging process may seem arcane to the uninitiated, but First Junior, First Senior, Preservation, Grand National, DPC, and HPOF are embedded in the rule book, and are chased with unbridled enthusiasm. Why? For the same set of reasons: points, trophies, bragging rights. The weather, well-known to be unpredictable in this part of the world in October, hardly plays a role. When car owners have spent most of the year prepping their vehicles for The Big One, a little bit of water will not deter them from making an entrance.

**U.S. spectators travel from as far as California to attend Hershey**

Hershey is glorious when it’s sunny and 65. It’s barely tolerable when it’s cloudy, windy, and 50, as it was in 2018. Yet I would estimate that the show field was 95%+ filled, and foot traffic was more crowded than years past. Since vehicles are arranged by class, it’s easy to walk among the cars you want to see, and skip those you don’t. My continued infatuation with pre-war classics was rewarded with some beautiful machinery. And some newer cars weren’t so bad either. As you’ll read below under STORIES, meeting new hobbyists and hearing their stories continues to be an engaging part of the hobby.

**Boattail Riv’s: ’73 (L) shows toned-down tail next to ’72 (R)**

Mopar Muscle:

My 1993 Mazda Miata NA (1st gen), making its Hershey debut in HPOF:

STORIES:

Stan and the Bucket

“Hey, where’d you get the water for the bucket?”

“Ha ha! From my bathtub! I filled it up and carried it down to the parking lot.”

It was Friday evening, the day before The Big Show. The gentleman had alighted from his 1954 Pontiac at the rear of the Harrisburg Marriott where we were both staying, and watched me sponge off my quite dirty Miata using clean water from my bucket. Actually, my car had been spic-and-span clean two days before. It was the drive out on Thursday in the torrential rain which soiled it. Since it was wearing a fresh coat of wax, my theory was that a gentle bath with warm water would cleanse it again, and it seemed to be working.

“Gee, that would work on my car, if only I had remembered to bring a bucket.”

“I’m actually done with the Miata. You staying here? You can borrow my bucket and give it back to me later.”

“You sure? Ok, well, thanks.”

With that, Stan took my bucket while I said to myself, the worst that happens is I never see the bucket again. No big deal.

Saturday morning, I headed out to my car, and sure enough, my bucket was next to my car. Whether Stan had gotten to use it or not, he was honest enough to return it.

Heading inside for breakfast, I ran into Stan, and he invited me to sit with him. He was traveling by himself, as I was. We talked cars (natch), and he told me that his Pontiac was going to be a first-time entry in HPOF, as was the case for my Miata.

We shared some tips with each other about preserving paint and the like, which is when Stan told me that he had some other cars at home in Maryland, including a 1967 Volvo 1800S.

“Oh, I know those Volvos a little bit…” I always start out cautiously with a new friend about any Volvo knowledge I might possess. Treading lightly is a good start in case they have reason to despise the marque, and also to avoid any implication that I’m some kind of expert, which I’m not.

Stan continued: “I actually have a bunch of other Fords and Chevys home, and I like them all. But there’s something special about that 1800….”

I learned for the umpteenth time not to make suppositions about car people. Watching someone motor along in his 1954 Pontiac, I would never presume that the same collector would also enjoy a ‘60s Swedish sporty car. I was glad to be wrong.

Larry and the Fire Extinguisher

My Miata and I arrived on the show field a few minutes past 9am. Normally I would have preferred to make my entrance earlier, but the morning sprinkles caused me to delay my departure to minimize re-soiling my clean car. It got dirty anyway. Out came the cleaning supplies, and the Great Car Show Detailing commenced once again.

Judging was due to start at 10am. At 9:55, I was still wiping down the painted horizontal surfaces when I heard the voice: “Is this your car?” I spun ‘round to face two men wearing judge’s hats. They’re early, I muttered to myself. Can’t blame them; they’ve got a lot of cars to judge.

The judges spent perhaps five minutes looking over my car. As the proud owner, I was too anxious to answer questions they hadn’t asked. They thanked me for bringing it, and moved to the ’68 Camaro next to me. I looked at my watch: 10:01am. This was a blessing! With no need to hang around my car, the day was free to move among all the glorious machinery on the show field. I began by walking down the row of the remaining HPOF cars.

It stood out like a bright light among the cars surrounding it: a 1^st gen Porsche 928 in white. The owner was still wiping it down when I engaged him with some questions.

“How long have you had it?”

“Since new.”

“Tell me, how are the maintenance and repair costs? I hear horror stories.”

“Not bad, really. Stay up on the preventative stuff, and it’s quite reliable.”

“Do you do your own work on it?”

“No, but it’s still not bad to maintain.”

With that, the 928 owner exclaimed “Oh crap. I forgot a fire extinguisher. Now what am I gonna do?”

“Listen”, I said, “my car’s been judged. I don’t need mine. I’d be happy to loan it to you.”

“Really? I’d appreciate it.”

I jogged back to the Miata, grabbed the extinguisher, and hustled it back to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Larry.”

“I’m Richard. I’ll swing by later, or, if you don’t see me, my car is the black Miata in the row behind you.”

“Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that this was my weekend to loan items to fellow car owners, but it was OK. Again, the worst that could happen would be I would be out a relatively inexpensive fire extinguisher.

Hours later, I was finally heading back to my car. The extinguisher was on the floor, and I thought I would swing past the 928 one more time to see how he did. Its owner was sitting in the front seat. But I had forgotten his name. As I approached the car, I glanced at the dashboard placard: “Larry Holbert”.

“Hey Larry, how did you do?”

“Oh, judging went fine. And thanks for the extinguisher. I returned it.”

“Yes, I saw. Listen, I just noticed your last name, and the dealer plate on the back says this car came from Holbert Porsche. Any relation?”

“Yeah, my father started the dealership.”

“So you’re related to Al Holbert?”

“Al was my brother.”

A wave of emotion and nostalgia overwhelmed me. Al Holbert, a successful race car driver and team owner, was killed in a single-occupancy plane crash in 1988. I didn’t know Al, but at that time, I was in a band with a fellow band member who worked at the Porsche dealership and knew Al well. My friend was very broken up over the loss.

I told Larry about my band buddy, and expressed my condolences over his loss.

A while later, I looked up Larry Holbert. Up until the dealership was sold a few years ago, he had been president and CEO of Holbert Porsche. Yet when I asked him about his 928, said nothing about his executive status. He gave no hint that his stature meant that he could have these things taken care of. On a cool October Saturday on a show field in Hershey, Pennsylvania, he was just Larry, fellow car enthusiast.

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Author: RichardReina