"Fastidious ! ", that was the cry of mild mannered croissant salesman Marshall Hartwich the first day I took my VW Beetle to work. He was all over it. A closet car fanatic trapped in the humdrum world of conservative company car boredom.
Our Mr. Hartwich is a unique character. He is extremely fastidious. Fussy even. Has a keen eye for detail, and near enough is definitely not anywhere near good enough. He has the reputation in our office of being the only person in the company who details his company car from top to bottom, every single Saturday. When I say top to bottom, I mean top to bottom. There are rumours he even details the diff ! .
When you drive down Marshall's street you don't need to look at house numbers. Simply look for the most pristine garden and turn in. I was severely reprimanded after one visit when my old VW left a drop of oil on his driveway. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he details that as well.
Having been in the automotive wilderness for so many years Marshall decided he needed to buy himself a toy he could play with on the weekends, something to relieve the rigours of executive stress. And so began the longest, most tedious search for a special car that you could ever imagine.
It was just Marshall, his cheque book, and the latest copy of Unique Cars with Perfection as their co-pilot.
Our man Marshall simply looked for years, at all different types of cars. There was the MG phase, the Suzuki GTi phase, the Vintage and Model T Ford phases. He even considered a Hyundai Excel ! It was pain in the extreme.
But something had struck accord in Marsh the day he saw my Beetle. Now this was the type of car he was looking for. "Quite a noticeable car".
Once Marshall had settled on the idea of owning a hot Beetle he enlisted my help to find THE car, and I knew exactly the one for him.
It had been around the Sydney VW scene for a while. A stylish looking two tone 1960 Cal look Beetle. British Racing Green over Custard, with polished Porsche Fuch wheels. The attention to detail and the look of this car just said- Marshall Hartwich.
It was owned and built by a British Lad and was garaged in Surrey Hills. And as destiny would later go on to record, it just happened to be For Sale.
The first time we saw it was parked in a cold, dark alley way off Crown Street., and it looked gorgeous. The owner took Marsh for a spin in it. I stayed with the company car to make sure no one pinched the wheels off it.
The first thing he said when they returned was "Everyone looks at you in this car". The car was virtually sold.
Then started the negotiations for purchase. As painful as the search itself. Marsh wanted a few things fixed up so the car was perfect. The owner didn't want to spend any more money. Days and days of phone conversations passed, back and forth, back and forth. Offers, counter offers. Would fate keep Marshall and THE Beetle apart ?
A week or so later we went back for a second look. Emotion took over and Marsh began throwing money at the car. He had to have it!
Not long after, the deal was struck.
With the Beetle now proudly in his possession, the first thing Marshall obviously did was detail it to within an inch of it's life. Top, Bottom, Inside, Outside. The VW looked truly stunning.
It was at this point the car was proudly given the name "The Green & Yellow Monster".
To say Marshall loves this car is a massive understatement. He worships it. It's all he talks about at work. He spends his weekends cleaning it even though it isn't dirty. It lives under a car cover in his garage which is secured like Fort Knox. It never sees bad weather or bad traffic.
After a handful of shows Marshall and the "Green & Yellow Monster" have racked up several trophies. 4th outright and Best Modified Interior at the 96 Shootout, and best Modified Interior at the 97 Nationals.
So what do I get for helping my friend out, helping him find the true car of his dreams ? I get a phone call at about 7 am the Sunday morning of any car show.
" Hi Andrew, it's Marsh here. I'm not bringing the car out today, that cloud cover looks bad. The monster's not getting wet !"
by Andrew Frood
