Lifelong search for the perfect Mustang
Brian Copeland is an awardwinning actor, comedian, author and playwright, currently appearing in his hit play The Waiting Period at the Marsh Theater in San Francisco. In addition to his stage work, Copeland is a fixture in Bay Area broadcasting. He has hosted programs on just about every local television station, and you can catch him on weekday afternoons hosting his popular radio program The Brian Copeland Show on KGO.
All my life I’ve wanted a 1964-68 Mustang convertible in fire engine red. The first Mustang was introduced on April 17, 1964, four days before I was born, so I’ve always felt a special connection to it.
In 2004, I debuted my first oneman play, Not a Genuine Black Man, about racial identity and my childhood growing up in San Leandro in the 1970s, when it was one of America’s most racist suburbs. The play went on to become the longest running solo show in San Francisco theatrical history, and also ran in 30 cities around the country and Off-Broadway.
In late 2004, Hyperion contracted me to write a book version of the play, and they paid me an advance. Since I had a little money, I started looking in the San Francisco Chronicle’s classified ads in the collector car section, hoping to find my dream car. I came across a 1968 Mustang convertible in great condition. I still doubted that I could afford it, but I called anyway.
The owner was a gentleman in Marin who explained that he had a friend who had worked at the old Ford plant in San Jose who had arranged for him to pick the car straight off of the assembly line in 1967. He drove it for many years, and then his wife drove it, followed by their daughter and finally their son, Andy. Andy was in the process of restoring it when sadly, he passed away.
The owner told me that the car had been in storage for the past few years, and that it was time to sell it and get closure on their loss. He said they were carefully choosing who got the car, because the family wanted it to go to someone who’d appreciate it, not someone who would try to make a quick profit by flipping it. He said he’d email me photos, but there was no guarantee that I’d be chosen.
He asked me for my name, and when I said, “Brian Copeland,” he replied, “Are you the Brian Copeland who I listen to on the radio every Sunday?” When I responded yes, we talked further and I explained that I had just been contracted to write a book and that if I bought the car I would be using my advance money. It turned out that his wife was a renowned psychiatrist and a best-selling author of several books herself, one of which was the basis of an Oscar-winning documentary. When we met, she graciously offered me advice on making deadlines and on the writing process. I had already fallen in love with the car, so I was honored and elated when they told me that I was their choice to become the car’s caretaker.
On the morning that I picked it up, they stood arm in arm watching me as I drove off. I consider owning this car to be more than just a dream come true or a satisfying hobby. I consider it to be a sacred trust, and we’ve been together ever since. I’ve owned a number of classic cars over the years, and I’ve always felt that giving them a woman’s name adds to their charm and personality. My 1967 Buick was named Alison, and my Mustang is named Andrea. I call her Andy for short, in honor of their son.