1976 Chevrolet Monza 2+2 V-8 - Gee-Whizzing

The car I judge all others I drive by? Ferrari 458? Lamborghini Gallardo? Seventh-gen Corvette? Mercedes-Benz SL550 AMG or BMW M6? You would think. Nope. It was a yellow, 1976 Chevrolet Monza 2+2 similar to this one I stumbled across on Barnfinds.com recently. 

Well, honestly, it's not so much I compare that oddly styled little car to everything I drive; it's how close anything I drive for the first time comes to giving me my first exhilarating dose of "holy-sh!t-this-car-is-amazing" endorphin rush a Monza gave me decades ago. A rush of natural "feel-goods" I've been chasing ever since when I get behind the wheel of something I haven't driven before. 

I mean, seriously, the hell did I know at the time anyway? Up until then, the bulk of my wheel time had been with my father's woe-be-gone, 1972 Cadillac, then his 1980 Buick Century that replaced it. I've blogged ad nauseum over how bad my first car, a 1974 Mercury Comet was. Although substantially better than my Comet, I wasn't overly impressed with any of my friend's rides either. Although, again, I had no idea at the time what a car to be impressed with would or should be like. My automotive perspective changed forever one summer afternoon in 1983 when I took a quick spin in a "305" V-8 powered, 1976 Chevrolet Monza 2+2. 

T'was the summer of 1983, and I was so sick of my dumpy, ratty, squeaky Comet that I sold it without anything lined up to replace it. That meant I was back to using the Ross 10-speed I got when I was in the 8th grade to get around. Headed back to Nassau Community College on Long Island that fall for my "sophomore" year, while, in theory at least, I could take the MTA Long Island Bus, that would turn what was by car a twenty- to thirty-minute, ten-mile slog, into being caned for ninety-minutes. I needed a car. Like now. 

Problem was, it was getting late in the summer, and I was having zero-luck finding anything suitable in the $1,000 price range I was pigeon holed in. 

I was skimming through the Chevrolet section of the classified section of "Newsday", the big Long Island newspaper, for a Monte Carlo or a Malibu I couldn't afford when an ad for a Chevrolet Monza popped out at me in the broken, word-economy speak of a cost-per-word classified ad: 

"1976 Chevy Monza 2+2. Needs exhaust. Not perfect, runs good. V-8. $1,800 OBO."  

Despite it being a good eight hundred to a thousand more than I wanted to pay for anything, and I thought the Monza 2+2 homely, the formal roofed "Town Coupe" somewhat less so, I reached for the phone on the kitchen wall to call the number listed. I don't know. Must have been, "V-8" that intrigued me. I called, they answered and it was available. Bonus, it was close enough to my parent's house I could hoof it over there on my bike. 

When they said it wasn't perfect, they weren't kidding. Although just seven-years old at the time, it seemed much older. There were rust spots, dents and scratches littered the dirty, shine free yellow paint and the twin black "racing stripes", that our "Barnfind Monza" doesn't have, were peeling. The interior was filthy and reeked of cigarettes. Although living in a house full of smokers and myself imbibing from time to time, I've always hated the stench they leave. Welp, that car was definitely not for me but car guy I am, I took it for a spin anyway. I mean, the owner of what was ostensibly a factory V-8 powered Vega giving me the keys to it? This could be interesting. 

I turned the ignition key and the Chevrolet 305-cu in. V-8 fired up and settled down into a deep and satisfying glug-glug-glug; each blip of the gas pedal made it sound richer and even more satisfying. The manly sounding engine had me thinking a little differently about the homely and dorky little car. I tried to act cool. All of 19 at the time but having the face of an altar boy, the seller trusted me to fly solo. Bless his heart. I felt like a bull with his balls strapped up in his stall at a rodeo before his stall opened. Let's go! 

Granted, small cars with any modicum of oomph feel more powerful and faster than they actually are, but the combination of the loud exhaust, actual punch of the engine and the car's "darty", go-cart like handling made for one hell of an experience. Especially for someone who had never driven anything remotely like it before. 

Windows down and a traffic free entrance ramp onto the Meadowbrook Parkway between Merrick Road and Sunrise Highway, I pegged the gas, a rear tire chirped, the car squatted back, the engine screamed and off I went. This, I thought to myself, was what "driving" was all about.  

I must have seemed like nothing more than a joyrider when I dropped the car off gushing with praise over it. Of course, I didn't buy it. I gave the keys back to the seller who seemed willing to negotiate on the price. I held my breath as I low-balled him as a way to get out of the conversation. He didn't bite, thankfully. I jumped back on my bike and headed home to plow through the classified section of the paper again "gee-whizzing" about that Monza all the way home. 

To this day I still am. 

1987 Pontiac Trans Am GTA - Be Still My Beating Heart

For over a week now, this very worn third-generation Pontiac Firebird has been sitting at the transmission shop next door to my office in Youngstown, Ohio. Imagine my delight when I finally sauntered over to it and found it to be not just a Firebird, but be still my beating heart, the ultimate 1980's Firebird, a Trans Am GTA. 

When cars like this were new, their high sticker price, insurance rates and terrible performance in bad weather put them out of reach for me. Not knowing any better, like fawning over the unreachable and untouchable homecoming queen or cheerleader captain, I thought they could do no wrong. 

Over the past twenty-plus years, I've been lucky or unlucky enough to have had my fair share of what are referred to as "pony cars". Long story short - these things are not for everyone. Trust me, the idea of having one is far better than actually having one. At least as a daily driver. As a weekender? Oh, by all means. Every day, though? I don't know about that. To me these are "party cars" that don't know how to do anything but party; sometimes, you just want to crash on the couch and watch Netflix. Still, I'm drawn to cars like this like a moth is to a flame. And I'm willing to get burned again. 

Pontiac's answer to Chevrolet's Camaro IROC-Z, the Firebird "Grand Touring American" were built from 1987 through 1992; this is a 1987. Like the IROC, these cars were supposed to offer buyers even greater performance than the models they were based on could muster. To a car crazy kid driving a crusty 1975 Chrysler Cordoba, what they could do, or would I imagined they could do, the stuff dreams were made of. 

Checking the "GTA" box on the order form got the original buyer a Trans Am with the WS6 handling package which included higher rate springs (fancy car talk for stiffer), thicker anti-roll bars (car geek nomenclature for back breaking), rock hard bushings, an even quicker steering ratio and 245/50 tires on "cross lace", 16-inch alloy rims. 

Under the hood, sorry, I couldn't get this thing up higher than this, we see it has the tell-tale "Tuned Port Injection" intake runners that defined powerful engines at General Motors at the time. This car has an automatic so that means this is the 350-cu. in., or 5.7-liter, "L98" engine you'd also find in Corvettes of the era. This one would have been slightly detuned, of course, since the Corvette had to be the most powerful car in GM's lineup. Even if the difference was maybe five- or ten-horsepower. 

You wanted a 5-speed, you'd have to make do with the 305-cu. in, or 5.0-liter, "LB9" engine that had the L98's sexy pipes, but it made less horsepower and torque. Legend has it the torque of the L98 would detonate the Borg Warner T-5 manual. So, you wanted the big motor, automatic only, pal. 

Contemporary road test reviews of these cars are decidedly mixed. Scribes heap praise on their straight-line performance and adhesion in the corners on smooth surfaces. Lest they didn't offend manufacturers who spend big bucks advertising with their publications, you have to read between the lines their utter contempt for their flinty rides, wonky ergonomics, terrible seats and sloppy, cheap construction. 

I wonder how many of these were bought by buyers who quickly thought twice about their purchase. Again, if they were bought as daily drivers. If you know, you know. 

Damned with faint praise at best, the critics harsh words came across to me like a coach yelling at my favorite sports team players. You bastards can't say that about my favorite genre of cars and get away with it! Well, guess what? Turns out those guys were right. And then some. 

Though they sorted much of what ailed these cars through the years, they (General Motors) never got them one hundred percent right. The Trans Am GTA's, though, were as good as third-gen Firebird's got. What you bought one for going a long way as to whether or not you ultimately liked it or not. 

You bought it for its aesthetics or what it could do for your image, you probably regretted your purchase quickly. As a performance appliance, though, you got a lot of bang for your buck. 

The jarring ride, droning exhaust, their impracticality and difficulty of ingress and egress; these are cars are not for the faint of heart. Every pony car I've had had me questioning my decision. Naturally, I bought them as dailies. 

Sigh. Funny how contempt can replace lust. 

I'd love to know the story behind this car. Goes without saying it's got transmission problems. Doesn't appear to have any rust issues which is unusual for a forty-year-old car that appears to have spent considerable time outside in the shoot-me-now cold then brutally muggy and hot summers we get here in northern Ohio. 

So, it's got loads of potential. I'd just get it running and rat-rod it. 

There's a humility to it I like that when new, this car and cars just like it, did not have. Not unlike an older athlete, professional or not, with a mile or two on them who still "has it", just without the off-putting arrogance that may or may not have gotten them into trouble back in in the day. 

1968 Cadillac DeVille convertible - That Land Yacht Has Sailed

This nice but not perfect, 75,000-ish mile, 1968 Cadillac DeVille convertible popped up recently on Marketplace with a towering $25,000 asking price. I know inflation is warping the values on most everything these days but twenty-five grand...for...this? 

Back in the day, I swooned for these cars and others like it that had buckets more panache than anything current at the time; performed better overall too. Then again, these General Motors class-of-1965 full-size cars where the last crop of cars that didn't have to bend to government regulations regarding safety, emissions and fuel economy. 

With no literal and figurative "governors" to be concerned with, that didn't stop General Motors and Cadillac from applying their own brakes, as it were. By 1968, a "Cadillac" was a far cry from what it was just five-years prior; although it wasn't as bad as it would get come 1969 and beyond. 

Blame the "bean counters" for trying to squeeze every last dollar they could to maintain profit margins. Rather than jack up sticker prices, Cadillac just cheapened the cars themselves; they also stopped innovating. Innovation as much as part of what made a Cadillac a "Cadillac" as styling did. 

Seeing how people bought Cadillac's in increasingly large numbers, despite their being less and less "Cadillac" and more "Chevrolet" like with each passing model year or two, that didn't seem to matter at the time. Well, didn't matter until it did matter which by then it was too late. 

1968 was the last year for the stacked vertically stacked headlights on Cadillacs, an ethos that went back to 1965. The last year genuine wood veneers, thin as they were, were available as well on the interior. Although the design of the front seats left a lot to be desired, 1968 was the last year Cadillac used a leather that was of a near glove-soft quality. Cadillac improved the seat design for 1969, but the leather they used was hard and slippery. 

Cadillac introduced this dash design in 1967 replacing the 1965 conjuring that was bejeweled in comparison. Think this looks cheap? It ain't got nothing on the 1969 and 1970's mold injected plastic horror. 

It wasn't all downhill, though. 1968 was the first year for the last "great" Cadillac exclusive engine, the venerable "four-seventy-two", 472-cubic inch V-8 that would stick around, in one form or another or displacement, somewhat amazingly, through 1984. Love the gold air cleaner cover. 

If buyers felt they had to defend the fact that the interior of their car wasn't quite as plush as it used to be, they could brag they had the world's largest passenger car V-8 engine at the time. Although, they'd then look sheepish when a yokel with a 427-cubic inch V-8 in his or her Chevrolet Caprice smoked them at a stoplight. 

Behind the wheel, I've found these cars to be a chore to drive. Their structure spindly, the body shudders, the seats not supportive. Yes, they look lovely, but, sorry, I've come to expect more from a car that's not a daily driver than just looking pretty. 

I'll drive yours and gush enthusiastically about how nice it is and drop my geeky tidbits about what I know about it. Would you rather I tell you what I really think of your car and that I think you wasted your money? 

Seems my penchant for literal land yachts like this has sailed. 

1974 Cadillac Coupe deVille - The American Standard (of the World)

 

After years of cost cutting to maximize margins, by 1974, what General Motors marketed as the "Standard of the World" had devolved into more like, warning, incoming deliberate and awful pun, "The American Standard of the World". That's not to say Cadillac didn't have anything to blow their horn about for '74. Gosh, for starters, there were a number of new "firemist" colors with coordinated interiors to choose from like Cranberry, Persian Lime and, as on our '74 Coupe deVille here, dare I say, the rather fetching Terra Cotta Firemist. 

Such was the strength of Cadillac's position in the market in the 1970's that they could tout frivolities like new paint schemes and expect their customers to buy into it. Oh, and they did. Despite the first energy crisis clobbering sales of full-size cars, Cadillac still managed to sell more than 242,000 total units in 1974 none of which could honestly get more than ten-miles-per-gallon. 

Model year 1974 for Cadillac wasn't without its fair share of firsts and lasts, though. 1974 was the last year for the 472-cubic inch V-8 Cadillac introduced to much fanfare for 1968. Smooth and durable, let's be fair, Cadillac lovers, there wasn't anything particularly special about it save for its elephantine size. Cadillac replaced it in 1975 with their 500-cubic inch version of it that had been an Eldorado exclusive going back to 1970. Legend has it Cadillac had planned to increase the size of the "472" to as much as 600-cubic inches. 

Like many makes and models sold in the United States, 1974 was also the last year Cadillac's were sold without catalytic converters. Catalytic converters use precious metals to react with toxic exhaust gases and literally convert many of them into less harmful ones. Early "cats" severely restricted exhaust flow further limiting engine performance that was already castrated by primitive emissions controls and lower compression. 

On a list of firsts, 1974 Cadillac's featured a redesigned dashboard all Cadillac's, except for Seville's, would have through 1976. Critics torched it's lilliputian speedometer and, save for the fuel-gauge above it on the left, a brace of "idiot lights" running along the top of it to relay vehicle information to the driver. 

                                         

For 1974, a government mandate required all cars sold in the United States withstand a five-mile-per-hour impact without damage, hence all Cadillac's got this new rear end treatment complete with a new taillamp design. 

Save for a fussy and garish new grill, the front end was mostly carry-over from 1973; 1973 the first year for the government mandated, five-mile-per-hour front safety bumper required up front. I can't think of a single automobile that benefited aesthetically from this mandate, although at the time, putting shock absorbers behind bumpers seemed like a sensible if not smart thing to do. "It's about time they did that", bellowed my old man who regularly dented the thin strips of chrome pretending to be bumpers on his 1968 Ford Ranch Wagon 

Back to lasts, 1974 was the last year for round headlights "nestled" in bezels on Cadillac's. This look gave way to rectangular headlights along with another front-end refresh that made it look blockier and heavier than ever. 

Along with the new dash, all Cadillac's for 1974 got a new steering wheel all would would have through 1976. GM would share it with, of all things, their GMC motorhome through model year 1978. Sans the Cadillac logo, of course. 

Most importantly, 1974 was the first year all two-door Cadillac's were not actually hardtops if we define such by what they had been going back to 1949;a fixed-roof car with no center post to emulate the roofline of a convertible with its top up. 

Like the safety bumpers, at the time, it seemed a natural evolution of an existing design that provided structural support to a car that desperately needed it. In retrospect, it ruined what made a two-door Cadillac more than just a two-door sedan. Oddly enough, Cadillac continued to sell four-door Calais' and Sedan deVille's as pillarless hardtops through 1976. 

A coupe even a coupe diehard didn't like? Yup. Especially with the padded "cabriolet" roof like this one has, these cars appear to be two different cars fused together behind the doors. Full disclosure. when these padded roofs first came out, to this kid from Long Island, it seemed the epitome of taste, class and elegance. 

The most unusual thing about this car is that while the rear seat is trimmed in your atypical of the time, to-die-for-looking but slippery as hell Cadillac leather...

The front seat is...cloth? Bet the front seat was shot and someone found cloth front seats in the correct color. I'm sure doing this was a whole lot less expensive than reskinning them with NOS seat covers. If you can even find them. 

The front seats situation didn't hamper someone from dropping $8,450 for this thing at a Haggerty online auction recently. Neither did this crack in the dash, good luck fixing that, the 1977-1978 wheel covers, non-working air conditioning and cruise control, locked up eight-track player and ancient, replace-now-or-die tires. The paint has blemishes and there's rust on the frame. Did the buyer not read the vehicle description beforehand? 

Sadly, I feel a part of my youth has faded away as I used to love dreadnaughts like this, they're nothing more to me now than a nostalgia trips reminding me of the way I used to look at the world. They handle and brake terribly, they're slow, inhale gas, shoot, they're not even that comfortable. Sorry, I don't see the fun in appreciating something simply for the nostalgia value in it anymore. With me and cars, love may transcend reason, but it's not unconditional. At least not anymore. 

After all these years, despite my fruitless attempts to convince her otherwise, I still hear my mother, who was born in 1925. wistfully dreaming of a Cadillac like this. "There's something special about a Cadillac", she'd say. Sorry, ma, while that may have been true at one point, by the mid 1970's, that simply wasn't true anymore.