Someone Has To Win

Across the Fence #363

“We just drew your name and you’re the winner of the 1977 Corvette!” Those were the words I heard when we answered the phone on Friday night, October 21. “Is this a joke? Who is this?” I thought someone was pulling my leg. The caller explained that I had just won the Valley View Rotary Classic Car raffle in La Crosse. They were calling from the drawing for the car celebration party at the La Crosse Center. I heard cheering in the background. I couldn’t remember ever buying a ticket. My mind was still spinning as I tried to remember where I had bought a raffle ticket.

The woman I was talking with assured me it wasn’t a crank call. I was the winner of the Corvette. As we continued talking, I was still in my skeptical mode because I still couldn’t remember buying a ticket. We arranged for me to pick up the car at Brenengen Chevrolet near Valley View Mall on Monday at 4:30 pm. I asked how much the IRS would want from me, because I knew they always got their money when someone wins a larger prize. A man came on the line to explain that the IRS required a 28% gambling tax on the value of the car. There’s no free lunch. I needed to pay the tax before the car could leave the lot.

When we finally hung up, I was still searching my memory for when and where I had bought a ticket. I guess I was still skeptical, so I went on the web and googled Valley View Mall Rotary. Holy cow, there were pictures of a burgundy-colored 1977 Corvette, and a notice that the drawing would be held on October 21. It was for real! I read through the rules of the raffle to see if that would jog my memory. The tickets were $10 or three for $20. Then I remembered. I had bought the ticket during the Westby Syttende Mai, way back in May, at the Classic Car Show. I remembered they were trying to sell me the three for $20, a better deal, and I said it only takes one ticket to win.

I never buy raffle tickets thinking I’m going to win. I think most of us buy them to support the organizations. They were also donating money to the Freedom Honor Flight program to send World War II vets to Washington. I’m pretty “fugal” when it comes to buying raffle tickets, but that was a cause I wanted to donate to, or I wouldn’t have spent $10. Is it any wonder I’d forgotten about a purchase I’d made six months earlier?

So now we have a 1977 Corvette. I’d never even sat in one before. They’re interesting to get in and out of, but once you’re seated and fastened in, it’s like sitting in the cockpit of a race car. I’ve never had a sporty-looking car before. People will probably think I’m having a “late-life” crisis if they see me driving around in this car. I’m way past the “mid-life” crisis stage.

I bought my first car when I was 23 years old and had just returned from Vietnam in 1967. It was a used, 1965 Chevy Impala. While driving it on the way to Fort Knox, Kentucky, I found out why the previous owner had gotten rid of it. It was an oil burner. I joked that every time I filled up the gas tank, I added a quart of oil. It wasn’t far from the truth.

Every car we’ve ever had has been a Chevy. I’ve even had a couple Chevettes. Not exactly in the same league with the Chevy Corvette, but I liked them. They usually got me from Point A to Point B without too much trouble, and they suited my frugal pocketbook. I had a used, Chevy Impala that I remember. It was yellow with a brown, vinyl top. Actually the top was several shades of brown and black and peeling off in spots. The yellow exterior had nice, brown rust spots of varying sizes. I called it my Ghetto Cruiser. I could have left it unattended in the toughest sections of Chicago and no self-respecting thief would have touched it. I’ll need to be a bit more careful where I park this Corvette.

When Linda and I went to La Crosse to pick the car up, my brother, Arden, rode along. You should have seen Arden and me getting into the car for the ride back to Westby. If you’ve ever gotten in and out of a Corvette, you know what I’m talking about. It had been a long time since I’d driven a stick shift, but it didn’t take long to get the hang of it again. The worst part was hitting rush hour traffic as we were leaving. I didn’t want someone banging into us before we even got it home.

Corvette’s are not exactly a Wisconsin winter mode of transportation, so it will go into storage at the first hint of snow, and not emerge until spring. Then I think I’ll have to do a little cruisin’.

I used to say, if my name was the only one in the hat, they’d draw out the hat size. I guess I can’t say that any more. Someone has to win, and this time I was the lucky one.

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