The gods of irony (a little long, but hopefully enjoyable)
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The gods of irony (a little long, but hopefully enjoyable)



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Greetings fellow Moparians.

I am beginning to seriously question my recent actions in selling my 64
Polara.  Naturally, I debated it for sometime before following through on
the decision, but recently I received some news from my younger brother that
really left me close to kicking myself.  Allow me to elaborate.

My introduction to mopars came from a 64 Polara 500 (383) that my dad bought
for my sister to drive back in the later 70s.  By 1983, when it was my turn
to drive, that's the car I cut my teeth on, in driving and repairs.  Not
only was it really fun to drive, but the gods smiled on me and gave me the
oppurtunity to repair brakes, rebuild carbs, and replace the cam, timing
system, lifters, etc. one summer.  My brothers and I even named the car
"Sherman II" and put blue decals of "Sherman II" behind the driver's side
mirror.

When I moved out in 1985, my brothers clamored for something "cooler" and
were given a late 70s Porsche 924 (the VW/Audi/Porsche hybrid), and the
Polara was sold to a fellow we went to church with.

Fast forward to 1998.  I was living in Norman, OK, married, with two kids,
and in graduate school.  We needed a second car, and while browsing the
local Norman paper I find an ad for a 64 Polara, 318, pushbutton.  I take
the wife and kids to show them a car like I had as a kid.  The next day, I
own it, and over the next six months find myself doing much of the same work
I had once done on the first Polara.  Also, as the first repeat 64 Polara
owner in the family, I was given the wheel covers and headlight trim kept
from the first Polara.

Two months ago, however, the needs vs. desires debate surfaced in my mind
again.  We've been a two-car family since 1998, but now some of the needs
have increased.  No new kids, but we've started heating with wood, and the
need for a decent pickup was becoming more than apparent.  Additionally, I
had caught the motorcycle bug from one that was given to me from a friend.
Enter two other friends wanting me to buy a 3/4 ton GM truck from one
($800), and a 1980 Suzuki GS850L ($500) from the other.  Couple this with
people out of the blue asking to buy my Polara from me.

So, I cross the Rubicon, sell the car, and buy the truck and the bike, and
decide to sell off the wheel covers and trim to finance the work (brakes for
the truck and carbs for the bike) and registration for my two new
acquisitions.

The day that the last peice of Polara memorabilia is packaged and mailed, I
get a call from my younger brother who spearheaded the sale of the first
Polara, back in the day.  He tells me that in his company, he has an
employee whose wife's name is Summer.  When Summer learns of her husband's
boss's name (Hyrum), and the names of his brothers (Arlyn [me] and Eric) she
is instantly reminded of three brothers she knew of at her church when she
was younger who had the same names.  How could you forget.  She also recalls
her dad buying a big old car from them.  She was about five or six at the
time, and her main memories of the car are getting her finger closed in the
door, and (get ready) the blue letters spelling "Sherman II" on the driver's
door.

Shutup!  Shutup!  It's true.  According to Summer, the family kept the car
for some time, and then gave it to someone else in the family.  My brother
tells me that she and the rest of the family are going to see if they can
track the car down, or at least determine when it left the family, or worse,
was put to pasture.  Of course, if the original Sherman II 64 Polara 500
(383) is still around and available, I expect my two brothers and I to put
up a good fight claiming it.  As long as it ends up with one of us is the
important thing I suppose.

Still, the timing and the irony just about kill me.  So here's something
that Gary can put on the website to add "the rest of the story" in my case,
and give it some closure.

However, my daughter will turn 14 next January, and I've promised to buy a
car for the kids when they turn 14 so we can spend the next two years fixing
it up.  And, one of out friends here has a '65 Polara that's in good body
shape but missing an engine.  Hmmm.  I smell a 383 somewhere and a project
waiting to begin.  The story continues . . .

Arlyn

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