Ferrari: 1987 Testarossa Values in United States

On Mon, 29 Nov 2004 00:54:33 GMT, "LIW" <net> wrote: 

How was that done and by whom?
 

Needed have an impact wrench with the knock-offs, either.
 

www.ferrarimarketletter.com

According to FML the average asking for 86/87 TRs was 56,147 six
months ago.

On Mon, 29 Nov 2004 00:54:33 GMT, "LIW" <net> wrote: 

How was that done and by whom?
 

Needn't have an impact wrench with the knock-offs, either.
 

www.ferrarimarketletter.com

According to FML the average asking price for 86/87 TRs was $56,147,
six months ago.

LIW wrote: 
I don't really know, but - to me - that seems to be a low to fair price.
Does it really have 9000 miles? And the former owner gifted it with a
15K service? I'm kind of skeptical on that.

Seeing winter in New Jersey isn't fatal, unless the former owner was a
drug runner with a Testarossa who made deliveries in Harlem and the
Bronx, often parking in potholes of icy, street salt-laced sewage.

Here's a tip: What are the titles of the CDs and/or cassette tapes
inside the vehicle? That can be a big tipoff. Nothing but Bobby Brown,
2 Live Crew, and Suge Knight spoken-word stuff, maybe a litle Fear or
Sex Pistols? Stay away.

Spyin' some Debussy, Air Supply, Glenn Gould or James Taylor? Probably
kosher (and a worthy specimen for further examination, as well).

MC

--
Ape! Apes wearing clothes! It's a madhouse! A madhouse!

> MC wrote:
 

and now MC heaves up:

Looking at that last post, there are times I really crack myself up.

I've always felt that the ability to enjoy - to laud, even - something
of quality you see in yourself (it may be the only thing of quality you
see in yourself) and to do that lauding publicly if possible ... I think
that is one of life's little joys. A little ego tea party you have all
for yourself.

When it happens, I don't think about what anybody else thinks (kind of
like when your mom tells you she thinks you're talking "only to hear the
sound of your own voice" and you know that you are). I've been
purposefully serving up some glazed ham in my posts because my real life
is kind of stressful right now - I try to avoid it as much as I can. I
can only talk so many friends' ears off before they stop coming around,
so here I am, being witty, for the sake of myself. What is that? If
only I could channel it into something a bit more ambitious than this
sometimes sparse little newsgroup (in attendance and sometimes in
functioning cerebellums)

(sigh)

Yes, I am current with my medication. But lately I've been feeling like
I made one of those trips to the "astral plane", like you hear about on
Moody Blues albums, and found out it was all made out of Velcro and fake
flowers. I actually decided to come back here, to a life I mostly
loathe, because *it was better*. It's like planning very meticulously
for and finally embarking on that special spiritual journey you always
wanted to take, to some temple in Nepal, out in the desert looking for
Zyzyx, some monastery in Sherwood Forest or some mystic in Cabo San
Lucas. You're finally turning your back on the insanity, on the
confusion - because you *know* it's time to cleanse yourself, you *have*
that need to get real.

And yet ... you also know, just as firmly, that you'll have your
bag packed, be climbing through a window and on the way back around
three the next morning. You'll be on the all-nighter municipal bus,
trying to hustle a $40 weed front from the cholo who hangs out the
taqueria and bumming a cigarette from a street person before setting out
on a 12-mile walk through Gangtown to get to your apartment. You'll be
back in Hell, sans new spirituality.

The reason I release this gas is that last week I once again chose not
to have the you-gotta-have-it-at-forty colon poke, when it was again
offered/strongly recommended by my doctor. I am now three years beyond
the golden 40 milepost; I've decided that a colon exam is one of the
first things that truly tells a man the downside of his life is upon
him. If you have one, that hip-breaking fall in the tub and a shared
room at Beverly Manor are right around the corner.

The doc said "Suit yourself. Wait until a two-pound polyp is starting
to crown - I can see you then."

Sometimes I feel like I stand, barely balanced, on the cusp of an
aging-badly epoch, including maybe even the possibility of expiring at
any time. Usually it's whenever I think about my general health - I
actually feel very good physically, but it is suspect. Deep underneath
my passing nod to taking care of myself it really feels more like I
struck some kind of "Picture of Dorian Gray" deal, not like what I might
get from working that John Basedow tape every morning. My dozens of
miles of walking a week? A mere propping up of the facade - like the
town of Tombstone you see on the Paramount back lot. The
fairly-frequent five mile bike rides to get some stamps or sundries (or
cigarettes)? I call it exercise, when probably very soon a ride just
like it will be the straw and my heart the camel's back.

I still feel like I am a struggling - really struggling - teenager. I
act like one; I can still be teen-like reckless - even as I have been
mostly successful in controlling a serious illness. I never knew how
easy it could be to remain a responsibility-shirking teen. But for me
at 43, it is apparently much more fun to have a comforting, sumptuous,
and life-long dinner with Senor Failure, than it is to taste a fleeting
and very hard-earned sliver from the fruit plate of Success.

And bray all about it publicly like this! The gall ... the sheer
presumptuousness.

(Whew)

Sorry about all that! I've ground through so many therapists without
any success - because of some negative, therapist-related life
experiences - that I've psyched myself out on them for good. But the
Internet can be a GREAT therapist. You don't have to read this. I can
post it if I want and nobody can stop me. I get to work out some shit
in a place where I can see it forever and reflect. (Unless some hacker
gags and deletes it. I swear, I'll repost.) And who knows? I might
get some great advice now, down the road, maybe at a time when I need it
most.

By the way, I was watching Dream Car Garage on SPEED today, and they ran
a nice little feature on the 308. It might have been an old show. They
explained a lot of history and showed a real appreciation for the car's
position in Ferrari history, the car's features, etc. all the while one
was filmed being driven around spiritedly. The only thing I didn't like
was the suggestion that the 308's appearance on "Magnum, P.I." was what
made the car popular, that before the TV show interest in the model line
was languishing (and as a result Ferrari was languishing). I guess
there might be some truth in it - I don't thing the 70s were really a
boom time for any exotic car maker. Anyway, there's the Topic for the day.

Thank you for letting me vent. You are all very, very special! Special
people, so special!

MC

"Well, Elaine, let's examine the word "Santa", shall we?" [holds up
board with "SANTA" spelled across it in removable letters] "Santa.
Let's see, what have we got here? We've got an S and an A, an N, a T,
and another A. Hmm.." [rearranges the letters] "Who could be causing
all those laps to bounce up and down curiously? Who would help grown
men peel the focus from the baby Jesus on his birthday? Who could it
be, I just don't know. Could it be.. [echo] Satan!!" [the letters now
spell "SATAN"]




--

"The green pills! Green!! Spit those out!!"

"No, Morpheus. I'm going with the red pills, the soft slide back to my
very slimy pupa with the plastic hoses and the body plugs, and try to
remember the name of the dog I have in the Matrix."

"Harold Adrian Russell Philby" <co.ru> wrote in message
news:com... 
1992 
pass 

Thank you. 

"MC" <net> wrote in message
news:jwyqd.3109$news.pas.earthlink.net... 


But for me 

I forget who said that life divides into the miserable and the horrible, and
therefore embraced the miserable. I have a cousin, who has a nice family,
wonderful home, great cars (if you discount the NSX) and stays miserable all
of his life. I believe it is his "comfort zone" and he can excuse whatever
lack of success he achieves (despite being more successful at many levels
than many people) by the fact that life is rigged against him.

I've seen skills in you both on this newsgroup, and in your personal posts
that make it clear to me that you have a dramatic amount of talent, a
handful of demons, and a chemically imbalanced genetically derived system.

I wouldn't worry about the colonscopy at your age -- but I would worry about
it at 50. Instead of worrying about the length of your life, you might
consider reallocating your efforts on the quality of this point in your
life.

At the risk of sounding like a silly pop psychologist (and assuming that you
stay current on your meds per the doc, and stay off of the contra-indicated
substances, alcohol or other) you might just take a day or two to simply
reflect on yourself as the success you already are.

You've handled a serious bi-polar disease that many people give in to, and
you've made it to 43 in apparently good health, and with the ability to
write humorously. You have an apparent knowledge of things musical, and
things Ferrari. You MUST have a certain charm, because I worry over
precious few people who ream me as badly as you did when first I wandered
into this maladjusted Ferrari fan club, but I worry for you. You have a lot
of abilities, not the least of which seems to be a penchant for writing.

How about waking up tomorrow, and just declaring yourself a success? Look
at Donald Trump who declared the declaration of bankruptcy of his casino
operations "a complete success" because they were now the best known "brand"
in the world. If he can declare that a success, you can declare anything
you want to be a success.

So now answer my questions on value of a 1987 Ferrari Testarossa.

Regards,
Larry

'd better contact the phone company! She indicated she lived several
blocks away from where I lived: it was a true phone company foobar.

Phone conversations reveal our inner selves.


************************************************** ****************************


Why I Monitor
--- - -------


Why do I feel companies should monitor their Internet traffic, but the
Government shouldn't monitor me and everyone else?
 
[snip] 

I think it's pretty obvious why company traffic involving company systems
is monitored. After all, companies aren't democracies.

Finally, I should point out that all the people at both sites were t

LIW wrote: 

Thank you, Larry. And like you said, in another salute to the twist of
irony, I have come to value your opinions and appreciate your commentary
on all subjects - me, the same Neanderthal who practically ate
afterbirth when you came in here asking which Ferrari would be good to
take clients out in.

I keep feeling like I'm at one of those "crossroads" moments (except
that mine take a lot longer than other peoples'). I feel like
something's going to happen to me, or because of me or my efforts -
something with a lot more impact than the fruit (???) of my usual
mental/physical wanderings. I don't know if it's a good direction or a
bad one, I only know it's coming ...

<cue wild-eyed, rifle wielding Kurt Russell>

"You tell them I'M coming ... and HELL'S coming with me! HELL'S coming
with me!"

<stop cue wild-eyed, rifle wielding Kurt Russell>

Sorry, I couldn't resist ...

And that's why sometimes I just have to hold my head to the sky and
howl! (OK, write a long, nonsensical, off topic and thoroughly
ridiculous post to a newsgroup - at least I might get some response.
The sky tells me nothing.)

As outrageous, coarse, blunt, or aggressive I might be in my statements
or opinions about people, places, and things - I always sell myself
short when it comes to the personal appraisal.

Thanks again. Your words bring a little peace to the chaos.

MC

--
"The green pills! Green!! Spit those out!!"

"No, Morpheus. I'm going with the red pills, the soft slide back to my
very slimy pupa with the plastic hoses and the body plugs, and try to
remember the name of the dog I have in the Matrix."