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'We're not a hedge fund': Porsche plans to curtail speculators and flippers

A sizable number of speculators view cars as an investment. Rare or unusual models are quickly snapped up and either parked for years or flipped for a profit. Cars from automakers like Porsche and Ferrari are more prone than others, and at least some people behind these models are getting a bit tired of it. While it's difficult to police what goes on after you sell a car, Porsche has some plans that might curtail the problem before it starts. Andreas Preuninger, the head of GT road-car development and the man behind the new 911 GT3, spoke to Car and Driver at a recent event. "I personally like to see my cars being used," he said. "That's what we build them for. They are just too good to be left to stand and collect dust." One recent example of this rampant speculation is the 911 R. While the special manual-only model sold for $185,950 when new, used versions were selling for nearly $1.3 million just months after it went on sale. While the car is a masterpiece and an instant classic, a good number will be parked and simply used as art and not the rolling testaments to the man/machine interface they were intended to be. The concern over valuations has become so fierce that some owners are upset that Porsche is offering the new 911 GT3 with a manual transmission, fearing that it may hurt the value of the 911 R. "When I said we're not a hedge fund, I'm talking to those people who are yelling at us for offering the manual transmission similar to the R," Preuninger said. "But if there are people wanting to buy cars like that, then as a company we should try to fulfill that, to meet that demand." It seems Porsche is keeping a close eye on who is flipping cars. Since there is often far more demand than supply with certain models, the German automaker has a name for every car before it's built. Buyers with bad reputations might not even make the wait list. Related Video:

Online Find: 1970 Pontiac Firebird Concept, cousin of the Weinermobile

So there's this for sale over at Hemmings: the 1970 Pontiac Firebird One concept designed by Harry Bentley Bradley and built by Dave Crook. For sale at the time of writing in Bellevue, Washington for $94,950, most of the seller's description appears to be pulled from a 2001 Barrett-Jackson listing, when the car was sold at auction for $61,600. Before we get to the car, it helps to know the man behind it: Bradley was a designer at General Motors from 1962 to 1966 who, against company policy, continued to submit designs to Hot Rod magazine under an assumed name. Mattel poached him in 1966 to design its brand new toy line called Hot Wheels, and Bradley designed all of them except one. He only stayed at Mattel for a year because he didn't think Hot Wheels would be successful, then left to start his own design company. Among other works, he penned the most recent example of the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile. Now can you see the Firebird One's design language? Since it apparently has a letter of documentation from GM design staff, we'll assume that GM asked the then-freelancing Bradley to work some magic on its muscle car, this being the totally Hot-Wheels influenced result. There are 17,456 miles on its 255-horsepower, 350 cubic-inch V8. The interior has tan leather, custom bucket seats, a wood grain dash, and one of the most awkward spare tire placements ever. The seller assures all prospective buyers that it is, like the Death Star, "fully operational."

This junkyard '91 Grand Am is as hooptie as it gets

I spend a lot of time in junkyards. A lot of time. With all this experience, I have learned to recognize a perfect hooptie when I see one, a car whose final owner got every last bit of use out of it when its value was hovering right about at scrap value. This 1991 Pontiac Grand Am that I spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard a few days ago, from the final model year for the third-generation Grand Am, checks all the hooptie boxes just right. First of all, it's a low-option coupe with the wretched and unloved GM Iron Duke engine, a rattly, gnashy, thrashy 2.5-liter four-cylinder kludged together using off-the-shelf parts from the Pontiac 301-cubic-inch V8 during the darkest years of the Malaise Era and used in cars whose buyers just didn't care. Most of the paint has been burned off by 25 years of harsh California sun, but the car spent sufficient time in a damp, shady spot for lichens to build up here and there. There are skeletons-with-sombreros stencils sprayed here and there, plus a big moonshine-guzzling skeleton mural painted on the hood. Goodbye, property values! Still, someone felt some affection for this car, giving it the name "Good Ol' Snakey" and painting that name on the decklid. We can assume that the Iron Duke was a bit loose by this time, probably leaving a serpentine trail of blue smoke behind the car at all times. So, the combination of cheapness, ugliness, menace, and who-gives-a-damn functionality make this Grand Am an excellent example of a pure hooptie. Within a couple of months, it will be crushed, shredded, shipped out of the Port of Oakland, and reborn in China as refrigerators and Geely Emgrands. Somewhere in Northern California, though, a few of Ol' Smokey's friends will remember this car fondly.