Hello everyone, I guess this story I wrote a few years back sums up my story. Glad to be aboard and that Shelby's movin to my garage. Bryan B. Block (V.P. MARLS) Date Sept. 15th, 1999 YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW- I feel compelled and as if it is my duty to inform my fellow surveyors of a problem, which has, enveloped my person. I thought I could beat it on my own. You have elected me to a position of status and just in case this leaks out, I thought that it would be best if I were the one to tell the story. I had indulged in something, then gave it up. So I thought! It all started some 27 years ago. I was young and wild, kind of cocky, like a lot of us were back then. His name was Mark, a senior and State wrestling champ, he had something everyone wanted. Myself, a sophomore and one who tended to look up to his peers. In my mind I blame him because he turn it on to me. Only if I could have looked the other way, things would be different now. For me the temptation was too great. Like seeing a beautiful woman, you just can't look the other way. It was the summer of 1972. Some might refer to it as a HOT AUGUST NIGHT. I was cruising the drag in an old faded red, 1964 Dodge 330, 4 door police car. It was a real sorry ride, kind of embarrassing to even be seen in it. Well I saw him, Mark! On the corner by the highschool standing by his car with one knockout of a blonde hanging all over him. I recalled our last encounter and pulled around the block to park. I had worked the entire summer on a ranch moving irrigation pipe and had earned a nice chunk of cash. Tonight I was about to spend it. I checked my wallet, there were 7 crisp 100-dollar bills tucked neatly inside. I pushed it in my back pocket and slid out of the car, he was watching. I had to be cool, pressing my sunglasses against my face, sticking my thumbs in the front pockets of my jeans; I slowly moved his direction. " Hey Mark! She looks Bitch'n." I was staying cool. " Ya! She's cool man. Whats new with you?" "I thought about what you said." " Ya! You gonna do the deal." My heart raced. "I got cash, seven bills." "Really now… let's see em." Beads of perspiration started forming on my brow. My eyes quickly scanned the grounds; no body but the three of us were there. I took out my wallet, opened it and thumbed out the seven bills. He silently counted them, then looked at the blonde. She got kind of a sad look in her eyes. "Are you sure?" she said. He stared at her for a moment, then looked at me and hesitated… Fear hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart started pounding so loud I couldn't hear anything else. Perspiration rolled down the side of my face. Again I scanned the ground to see if anyone was watching. He spoke, " A deals a deal, lets do it." His right hand searched his hip pocket; both of mine reached forward, the left with the palm up to receive, the right holding most of my summer wages. As he pulled the money from my grasp a set of shiny teardrop keys dropped in my other. They opened the doors to his, now mine, Candy Apple Red, 1966 GT, Hi Performance 289 Cu. In., 2+2 Mustang Fastback; with 4 on the floor, hooker headers and mag wheels. It wasn’t any mans' dream…, It was my dream! I sold that car once thinking it was over. In about a year's time, I hunted the buyer down and bought that car back at his price. A couple more years went by and I sold that car again. This time sadly, I knew it was forever. Several times since then I had come close to indulging again but refrained, couldn't justify, not a priority. I was starting to believe it was really over, then last year my Dad sent me a picture of a '69 Shelby Cobra that was in town. That's all it took, I lost it, I went crazy; I had ads running in the Auto Finder, the Mountain Trader, the Missoulian, the Greatfalls Tribune and every Podunk paper that would take my money: " Wanted, Fastback Mustang, 65-70 any condition." I prayed to God and He found me one, in Townsend. A '70 Sports roof. Will, my high school buddy, whom helps me with this obsession, drove down with me and we hauled it back on his car trailer. It has since occupied all corners of my garage in various stages of restoration. A couple of months ago, on a whim, I spontaneously purchased a '69 coupe. My wife was not pleased to say the least. My boy's think I'm cool. September was our MARLS board meeting in Bozeman, and on the way down I found myself cruising the backstreets of most every town, looking in backyards, alleys and fields. After that meeting, I went to Dillon to see my folks. Dad took me over to a friend of his who restores Mustangs. In his driveway was a '67 Shelby Cobra GT 350, White with Blue Lemans Stripes, Serial #0027. Immaculate, if only I could...NA, not probable. Dad and I were going surveying for the day to finish a job I had in Beaverhead County, but before we left we stopped back at Mom's to get my truck. I went in the house and told Mom, "Buy that car for Dad's 80th birthday!" "Hardly," she says, "Want some coffee?" "No Mom, I don't want any coffee, I want you to buy Dad that car!" Dad and I finished my survey job and we had some time, so we went fly-fishing. Dad caught a real nice Brown Trout, a Rainbow and a Brook Trout. He always was a great fisherman. By now you know what was on my mind. That's my excuse. Well, when we pulled into the driveway I literally cried. There, parked in all its glory, was that '67 Cobra with its license plate removed. My Mom, (she's the greatest) had fulfilled my wildest dream through Dad. My Dad, well, I think he's got what I've got. (I call him Dr. Cobra now.) My boy's, I think they're following me. My wife, well, she thinks I need Mustangs anonymous. I just thought…. "You had a right to know."
I hear you. I saw a 66 hertz in a garage of a building I was inspecting and it brought back memories of the 66 clone I had when I was 19 (and was forced to sell after playing tag with a parked car). I had always said my next Shelby would be a REAL one. Well, after seeing this Hertz, some 20 or so years later, the obsession started. Being employed full time at that time I actually had the means to buy a real one. A trip to the bank for the loan and buying Corcorrans Shelby book started the search. In July of 1999 after researching and shopping I bought 67 350 #2737 for $30K give or take. I though the fixation with all things Shelby would be satisfied. But thanks to ebay, Barrett jackson and the internet, it was only begining. Here I am 8 years later, still with my Shelby and still obsessed. Admitting you have a problem is the 1st step in dealing with it. As I tell my wife (who was not onboard with the purchase) "it could be worse, my obsession could be with other women". That usually ends the obsession conversation. Anyway, it's all good.
