A True Story

In 1977, living in Germany, I owned a pair of unusual vintage cars. One was a fully powered 1960 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, metallic gold, impossibly long, sporting gigantic tail fins. The other was a seafoam green Goggomobil, a German microcar. Its sole accessory was an old bakelite ash tray, stuck to the bare metal dash with a magnet.
The Caddy had a big Vee-Eight boasting of 350hp, the Goggo squeezed out 13.6hp from 246cc.

People always asked me if I would like to put the Goggo into the trunk of the Caddy. Once, while I was changing a tire by the roadside, an old geezer walked up and offered "Why don't you just wrap some chewing gum around the rim, instead!"
After a couple of seasons, the Goggo, affectionately called Schlaglochsuchgerät ("pothole detector"), was rusty beyond repair. One day, a teenager on a Moped t-boned me in the rain and darkness, and the lower half of the passenger door just fell off. I gave the Goggomobil to my kid brother, who was just learning to drive. He finished off the faithful little car within weeks.
During the next 20-odd years, I went on to own dozens of different old, interesting cars. Funny thing, though: every couple of months, I would have an intense Goggomobil dream. In this recurring dream, I always visited Three-Finger-Joe, my mechanic, in whose care I had left my Goggo. I would inspect the car from all sides, get in, and take it for a spin. When I'd wake up, I often believed for hours that I still really owned that Goggomobil, stored in a dusty barn in the Old Country.
I've never dreamt of any other car.

Finally, in 2001, the year of the "Odyssey," I decided to turn my dream into reality.
It would have been an easy task, had I dreamt of the Cadillac. Germany is far away, though, so the Goggomobil would have to travel many miles, and finding a good one would be difficult to begin with. Keep in mind, old cars, even more so "cheap" old cars, were just thrown away for many years. Few survived at all, hardly any in decent condition.
After a few months of searching for the right car, I found a suitable Goggo for sale. It was advertised on the Goggomobil Forum, a Web site for friends of this unique GLAS model. Actually, I found two Goggos, a "Limousine" (sedan), like the one I'd owned, and a beautiful Coupé (the car I always desired). Except for a couple of digital photos, I bought these beauties sight unseen. Container shipping to California was the easy part.
Now, I don't dream of the Goggomobil anymore, I live my dream instead.

The '59 sedan has long since found a new loving home. (check our Hall of Fame for it!) I intend to keep the Coupe forever. It's not perfect, by any means; that's what I love about it. Like any true antique, it has been allowed to age gracefully. I drive it a lot, here in Santa Barbara, running errands, or just kicking it around, along twisty Hwy 192, the intoxicating aroma of castor oil emanating from the exaust.
Even looking at my "dream car" makes me smile. I've been patient. Never gave up on my dream! Neither should you.