The familiar ‘ding’ on my iPhone told me I had a message. With a reflex we’ve all come to know, I immediately looked at the screen and saw “Say it isn’t so!” I thought, OK, the Mecum January Kissimmee Auction must officially be over and now they’ve started promotion on Glendale.
I was right. The well-oiled machine of Mecum Auctions had just announced that the Hooked on Vettes collection of Corvettes and original neon signs was crossing the block soon, all at no reserve. A number of people who have visited my collections over the years recognized the Hooked on Vettes collections were those of Texas-based Michael Brown.

Since that message arrived on my phone, I’ve had a great many like it from friends and acquaintances I’m pleased to have made through both the Corvette community and the Road Art community. (Not to be excluded are other such aficionados who collect and sell ‘automobilia,’ ‘petroliana’ and other terms tied to the love of all things past having to do with cars and driving, among other topics of the 20th century.)
After ‘say it isn’t so’ came a long line of questions that simply asked ‘Why?’ That’s understandable, of course. When anyone has achieved some degree of visibility through sharing information and personal visits to a collection that was many years in the making, it’s only human to wonder why one would just wake up one morning and decide to liquidate everything. Of course, it wasn’t quite that spontaneous.

I’ve said many times over the years that I could trace my love of Corvettes back to a time long ago when I was in high school in a small southeast Oklahoma town. In that fall, GM unveiled the 10th anniversary version of America’s only true sports car, the 1963 Corvette. But this was not just any Corvette. This was a seismic shift in the design of the car. It was the first year the headlights were hidden. (they would stay hidden for well over 40 years!). It was the first year that a buyer could choose between a convertible and a coupe. And, of course, it was the first and only year of the infamous split rear window. The design was breathtaking. The car appeared to be moving, even when it was sitting still. It became the object of my 16 year-old dreams.
I certainly never saw one in Hugo, Oklahoma. But I saw photos and not ever really thinking it would happen, I said, ‘Some day.’ Well, that day actually came to me…22 years later. A small want ad in a suburban Dallas newspaper caught my eye; a silver ’63 coupe with black interior and a 327/340hp engine was on the market for the princely sum of $16,000. I took a deep breath, and then I took out a loan. That life-changing moment for me was 37 years ago.

During the ensuing decades, I’ve made many trips half way across the country to Corvettes at Carlisle every August. Initially, I had no Texas friends in the Corvette hobby. I wasn’t a member of any clubs. I just heard that if you’re into Corvettes, you go to Corvettes at Carlisle. I made many lifelong friends there and those associations led to some remarkably fun and lasting projects, television shows and documentaries, all related to Corvette. Trips to Funfest, Bloomington Gold and Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals exposed me to additional friends and associations.
Where did the years go? Recently, I said goodbye to one of my life’s favorite objects, as a truck pulled away with my ’63 Corvette and a dozen other companion Corvettes that have comprised the Hooked on Vettes collection. Trailing close behind were several other 18-wheelers carrying well over 150 carefully-crated original neon signs I’d acquired over the past couple of decades or so.
During the nearly four decades since I bought the ’63, I’ve owned at least one of each of the eight generations of Corvette. The only generations not represented in my collection now are C4 and C5. The C8 mid-engine? It’s an amazing car! I’ve loved them all.

And the neon signs? Initially, I bought a few non-collectible neons to simply adorn the walls of the Corvette garage I broke ground on in 2006. But I soon ‘got into’ neons and that passion took on a life of its own, as evidenced by the sheer number of signs which were in a vacant home we own next door to our primary residence.
Every book tells a story. Every life does, as well. As I turn the pages to a new chapter in my own life, I’ll admit some degree of sadness to see my many acquisitions go. But it’s time they find a different home and I hope the new owners will enjoy each car and each piece of memorabilia as much as I have. And equally as much fun as ownership has been, so to was the chase and the acquisition of each.
I’m well past what most consider to be ‘retirement age,’ but I have no intention of retiring. I’m moving on to some projects I’m already excited about. It’s unlikely that I’ll ever build another collection of anything to the extent the Corvettes and Road Art became. But have I owned my last neon sign? Have I bought my last Corvette?
Not on your life!