I used to love to sit on my parents’ front stoop and watch the cars go by. I counted the Impalas and Furys and Galaxies that were so common during my 1970s kidhood. I got a special thrill from every Mustang and Camaro, and I even grooved on the ubiquitous Beetles. I still love the cars from that era and am delighted when I come across one. I feel like a kid in a candy store on my annual trip to the Mecum Spring Classic muscle-car auction! (It’s held at the state fairgrounds here in Indianapolis. Check out my visits in 2009 and 2010.)
So you’d think that I’d be excited to come upon this 1972 Plymouth Satellite coupe. But I’m not.
It sits in the driveway of my parents’ next-door neighbor, along with a similarly dumpy early-1980s Buick LeSabre. They never move. The owner seems determined to let them crumble to dust here. My poor mother has a front-row seat to their decay, as they fill the view from her kitchen window. My parents have reached an age where they’re losing interest in all the maintenance associated with staying in the family homestead. They’re worried about the effect these junkers will have on their ability to sell their house.
The fellow who owns these cars is reclusive, but Mom did finally corner him one day to ask him about storing these cars elsewhere. She said he was polite enough about it as he refused.
My hope is that someone will stumble across this post who is just dying to own a ’72 Satellite coupe and is willing to make an offer the owner can’t refuse!
One car I wouldn’t mind finding, though hopefully in better shape than this, is a ’75 Pinto. Yes, Pinto. I owned one once before and I liked it. Read that story.