1987 Jaguar XJ6 Vanden Plas
So by now I had a bit of a collection going. I had my run-about and my truck for my utilitarian needs. I had my BMW Z3 for my sports car needs. I had my Renault Fuego for my sport/GT needs. The missing piece of the puzzle was a 4-door luxury sedan. I could have invested in getting my Citroën back on the road. But one day I saw this little gem advertised on Craigslist.
This car had always been a favorite of mine. When I was a teenage boy in the late 70's I had a sales brochure for the XJ6, XJ6C, XJ12, XJ12C model line. It was to me the epitome of automotive style, with great grace and elegance. I poured over that brochure for many, many hours during those formative years. I knew every beautiful line, and every inch of the dashboard. I fantasized over what it would feel like to be sitting in that seat, viewing those gauges, operating those controls, and piloting that vehicle.
My first older gentleman friend, Phil, had an XJ6. I think it was a Series2, but it may have been a Series3 like this one. Alas, it always had problems, and I was never able to get a ride in it. When Phil passed prematurely, I hinted to his best friend that I would like to get my clutches on the Jag, but he told me I was nuts and that I should forget all about that maintenance nightmare. Of course this was the same guy who also owned a Z3 and said he'd never own another one. I said that neither would I, because I intended that mine last me the rest of my life. He wasn't being as charitable. At any rate, I put Phil's XJ6 it out of my mind.
But here was this one on Craigslist. I knew I at least had to check it out. I made contact with the seller by phone easily enough. He was an older fellow, a little on the doddering side. I wanted to arrange a time I could come and see it, but he said it was in getting brake work done. That told me first that the seller wasn't unloading something that needed a repair, and also that I could actually talk with the man who has serviced the car for many years.
I went to check it out. I looked at the car through the windows of its locked doors. It was about what I expected. The interior was a little beat, but not bad for its age. Everything was there and the car looked generally unmolested. The one exception that there was an after-marked wood steering wheel on it that inexplicably had a Ferrari logo in the center. It was hideous. The mechanic confirmed that it had needed stuff over the years, but nothing major, and it's always been well maintained.
I got back in touch with the seller, but by the time the car would be ready I would be away. And by the time I got back, the seller would be away. It turned out to be almost a month from when I first contacted this guy that I would be able to truly check out the car./p>
Finally the day came. I had an errand to run in his neck of the woods, and I scheduled it for a time he was home. I would come see him first and drive the car. I arrived to find him to be pleasant, but doddering and he'd been on the phone. The car was there and running. I could drive it, but he wanted to ride along. Okay. I sat down and buckled in. This was my childhood dream coming true. I had never sat in one before. It was nice, but a little tight side-to-side actually, especially down in the legroom area. I put it in gear and off we went. This was also my first time experiencing the legendary Jaguar straight-6 engine. I could feel the power, but the car definitely wasn't quick. It wasn't that kind of power. But it drove nice and seemed to be in pretty good shape. But that nasty fake Ferrari steering wheel totally ruined the experience.
I still had my errand to run. The seller suggested that we run the errand in the car. He'd wait for me while I went in. I didn't want to be worrying about him waiting in the car while I was conducting my business, but for some reason he was insistent. He said he'd be fine. I finally capitulated. My errand involved making a purchase for a home-improvement project, and I really wanted to consider my options and take my time, but this old coot was waiting out in the Jaguar the whole time, and I did feel pressured and rushed. Fortunately the had something they pulled out of the blue, and it was exactly what I wanted, so I could get back to the car. The old man was looking at me like it had taken a lot longer than he'd expected. I had warned him so frankly I didn't give a shit.
We went back to his place and talked turkey. We got into this, "What's your asking price?" "What are you offering?" back-and-forth for quite a while. But this stubborn old man simply would not state a price, so finally I made what I thought was a rather low but still fair offer. He turned his back on me. He literally turned away from me as he said, "Well then I guess we don't have anything to talk about."
I finally pried a price out of him. It was high enough over my max that I said, "Yeah, maybe we do have nothing to talk about." But as I left I added, "You know where to reach me if you change your mind."
I pretty much got it out of my mind, but a couple weeks later he called me up. He said that he was starting to see things more my way than his, and that we should talk. I thought about it. I had an over in mind. It was probably more than I should needed to offer, but probably not more than it was worth. And now that it was becoming real, I had to decide if I wanted to get involved in what could be a maintenance nightmare.
I put it in perspective. The amount I was going to offer would have been about the same as a nice week in Ft Lauderdale, once you include air fare, car rental, hotel, meals, and incidentals. So in the end I decided that if I got one week's use out of this car and then it completely fell apart, but I could live my childhood dream for that week, then I'd get my money's worth.
The seller begrudgingly accepted my offer. I went to his house and waited 20 minutes while he rummaged around looking for the title that he'd forgotten he'd already put out on the kitchen table. I came back the next day with plates, and it was mine.
The car was good right out of the gate. The only thing that needed to be sorted out was the brakes. The junk yard mechanic who sold me my current F150 actually specialized in Jaguar XJ6's. The seller hadn't gotten the brakes totally sorted out. They needed fixing, and the XJ6 inherited the inboard-mounted configuration that the E-Type had. That turned an easy job into a very complex and time-consuming one. But this guy improvised a solution that worked. It took a while and a couple of visits, but eventually the brakes were solid.
The only other significant problem with the car was an electrical glitch probably in the transmission neutral switch that would render the car utterly inoperable. I would turn the key and there was nothing. The starter would not engage at all. The circuit was not being completed. That one was a pisser because it left me stranded a couple times. One time I had to have the car towed out of my office parking lot. That was a tough one to live down with my co-workers. Toaph gets this fancy British car, and the next day he's having it towed away. And it took my mechanic a couple tries to totally nail it down. As experienced as he was, these electrical glitches are tough to get for good.
Beyond that the car was remarkably reliable. It was very rough around the edges, but it pretty much always worked. Certain knobs and switches on the dashboard might not always work. The climate controls were pretty lame at best, and stopped working properly within the first year. But the heater worked, and I could always roll down the windows and open the sunroof.
So automotively speaking this was my first big dream come true since I took my date to the prom in my MGB convertible. This dream was a lot longer in the making. Overall I would say I was satisfied. The driving experience was okay. It didn't make me see stars, but it had a smooth ride, responsive handling for a big long car, and ample power. Experientially, I delighted in the opulent wood dashboard that lay before me. The first thing I did when I got the car was get the correct steering wheel. That made a huge difference. I knew it would, and still it made even more of a difference than I expected. It changed the entire driving experience.
I took great glee in taking this very elegant car to very low-brow settings. If I needed to make a trip to Walmart, for example, I would always take the Jaguar. The McDonalds drive-thru was another favorite. I made it a point to drive the car to work on Fridays, just to make the day a little more festive. And I always drove the car to the grocery store on Sundays. That way I could call it "my grocery-getter." And always I could relax, because this car, as elegant as it was, was basically a beater. I didn't pay a lot for it, and if it got fucked up, then it wasn't that big of a deal.
But the best part of owning this car wasn't driving it, it was seeing it. Except perhaps for my Citroë'ns, this was the most shapely and beautiful car I'd ever owned. And it was a different kind of beautiful. The DS/ID was a sleek, contemporary beauty. The Jaguar was a traditional, classical beauty. It had swoops, accents, and details where the French styling was more minimal. In my eyes, each was the perfect execution of its respective aesthetic. When I would return to it in the parking lot, it would make me smile. When I would look out my kitchen window and see its beauty in my own garage, I couldn't believe it was mine. The car fulfilled an empty spot in my automotive experience.
Alas, nothing is forever. The car continued to perform just fine, but I started making wheelings and dealings in my head. There was another dream that had been forming, a very different take on the luxury car angle, and to make it happen I would have to sacrifice the Jag. I put it up for sale on Craigslist, not expecting anything to happen. I asked far less than I wanted to get for it, probably less than I could have gotten for it, but a figure that was my best chance of moving it. I got a couple nibbles that didn't turn into anything.
Then one day a guy showed up with my asking price in cash. I hadn't expected it to sell, so when it did, I wasn't really prepared for it. The buyer was a very nice guy, who himself had longed for these cars for years. I knew he'd take good care of it, and more importantly appreciate it for the gentle lady that it was, but I still knew I was going to miss that car. And I did. I really did. I had seller's remorse for weeks. Then one day I saw the guy out driving it, and it was a million times worse. But I eventually acquired something that would definitely take my mind off it.
