As a result, I have my grandfathers '31 coupe, my father's '69 Camero, my mother's '86 Camero, my father's '79 3/4 ton and I've added my '87 GT to the dust collection. They have been placed in my possession because they know my sister would sell them in about 9 minutes. Dad is still pissed to this day that he sold his '66 super sport back in the early '80s and the guy tore it down into pieces for a restore and never put it back together. He's retired and unable to really work on stuff, but still wants to go buy it in all of its eleventy billion pieces of glory scattered out in the guy's garage and put it all back together so it can just sit in the shed and collect dust with the rest of them.
Back when scrap was stupid high I sent two semi loads of my grandfather's old cars to be crunched. His brother owned a car dealership and every time one of the old Oldsmobiles started causing him problems he drove it in the corner of a shed or under a tree somewhere and just bought the next decent one that was traded in. Some of those cars cost him a $100 bill and lunch, so he just kept on rolling. After I sent them I realized some of those old Buicks and Oldsmobiles are actually sought after if you get into the right block of the right area of town. He invested oh so wisely in those old delta 88s and I just squandered it away.
I nearly forgot my dad's prized '87 Goldwing and now his '90 something Goldwing trike. Hey dad, why don't you sell that trike and go buy you and mom a, uh, a, well, whatever the hell you want that doesn't have wheels? You only rode it twice last summer and I'm pretty sure you scared every single person you met on the road with it, so how about it? "Na, I might ride it this summer or give it to one of the grand kids some day." Sounds great dad, can I go ahead and take it down to their place so I can get it the hell out of the shop? "Nope." And then there's the boats. An old jet boat for river fishing and an old bass tracker for crappie fishing. He hasn't fished in years, but roll those piles of small money into a, well, uh, whatever the hell he wants that doesn't have wheels and sit in a building, nope.
You sent me down the rabbit hole, so the best one yet... I have one of these ****ers that hasn't ran in close to 30 years with a bad tranny bearing in it taking up space in a building. It has some value, but talk dad into selling it? Oh hell no. He went to price cemetery plots for him and mom not too long ago and I told him to buy enough plots to park that ****ing FW30 on because that's where I'm going to put it when he's gone. At this point, I think it's some kind of weird punishment for being a pain in the ass as a kid.
