Thursday, October 20, 2005
Selling the Spitfire
Selling a project car isn't easy. Part of it is that, in the case of the Spitfire, I can't get back the money that I put into it. I bought it for $2,500, but with it not running, I'll be lucky to get half of that. But part of it is that you're selling a dream - once it's gone, all that you hoped for it to be will also be gone from your life. I'd hoped to cruise down winding country roads in the old roadster with the top down. Unfortunately, it was not to be. I just don't have the time in my life right now for two projects.
Perhaps the worst thing about selling a project car may be one of those classic Seven Deadly Sins, Pride. It hurts to admit, "No, I can't get this car running in time. Really, I am in over my head." Pride can definitely live up to its position on that list, chaining you to keep pressing on just because you're too pigheaded to admit that it was a bad idea.
At least I won't have the frustration of getting one thing done only to find there's more. I won't have to wonder where I will keep it in a few months. And I won't have to worry about spending any more money on what other problems I may not have discovered.
Still, I can't help but feel a pang of regret when I took out an ad for it.
Perhaps the worst thing about selling a project car may be one of those classic Seven Deadly Sins, Pride. It hurts to admit, "No, I can't get this car running in time. Really, I am in over my head." Pride can definitely live up to its position on that list, chaining you to keep pressing on just because you're too pigheaded to admit that it was a bad idea.
At least I won't have the frustration of getting one thing done only to find there's more. I won't have to wonder where I will keep it in a few months. And I won't have to worry about spending any more money on what other problems I may not have discovered.
Still, I can't help but feel a pang of regret when I took out an ad for it.
