1975 Ford Pinto - Ignorance is Bliss

Back in high school my buddy Rob had one of these and I was embarrassed at the time to admit that I really liked it. Well, for the record - I liked driving it; save for AMC Pacer's, these things were about as dorky as cars got back then. Yes - this was worse than my dreadful Comet. Rob's Pinto was a vomit green on vomit green 1974 while our blue on blue subject here is a 1975 model.



Rob's Pinto was nimble and sports car maneuverable thanks to light weight, diminutive size and its rack and pinion steering; a first in an American car. It had a light clutch and an easy to engage four speed; well, easy to engage after you hunted down the shifter that shook and bounced around in its hole on top of the hump.

 

It bounced around so much because of the "2300" engine Rob's car had just like our subject here has. It provided decent poke and despite it having a state of the art overhead cam, it was a real paint shaker; I always thought it was running on three cylinders.  Nope - in the days before balance shafts, that's the way big fours ran. It also sounded like a dinky tractor and that made his car come across for exactly what it was - a cheap economy car. Starting in 1974 Ford began offering a 60 degree, 2.8 liter V-6 that was a bastion of civility and refinement compared to these engines. Remarkably, this engine lived on in one form or another through the 1997 model year.  



 

Back then, though, we were never fearful of being rear ended and having the car explode because, frankly, I don't even remember hearing about these things blowing until at least the mid 1980's if not later. I could be wrong - it was a long time ago. In any event, an August 1977 investigative article called "Pinto Madness" was published in the not for profit, independent newspaper "Mother Jones" and it  highlighted the cars tendency to burst into flames in rear end collisions because of serious design flaws. To make matters worse, the Ford Motor  Company knew of the flaws and determined it was less expensive to pay out millions in wrongful death lawsuits suits than to fix the design problem.  

 



That design problem stemmed from an attempt to maximize interior space while keeping vehicle weight to no more than 2,000 pounds. To do so, engineers placed the gas tank between the differential and rear bumper rather than on top of the differential; doing that would have compromised interior room. While it was not out of the ordinary to place the gas tank where they did, what was out of the ordinary was that Ford didn't reinforce the rear of the car.

 



There was some back and forth back then about how safe a vehicle needed to be in the event of a rear end accident, strict federal regulations regarding such didn't going into affect until 1977, but Ford tested the car themselves when it was under development and found it leaked fuel in 8 of the 11 rear end crashes they conducted. And...they literally did nothing about it save for offering a voluntary recall where they put a plastic shield in between the bumper and gas tank.

 

 

I have no idea if Rob's Pinto, a hand me down from his father, had the retrofit shield installed or not. Something tells me it didn't knowing his father who wasn't exactly a "Father of the Year" kind of guy. Besides, who believes they're ever going to have an accident that results in their car bursting into flames even if the car is a well documented fire trap?

 

 

As far as we were concerned, not knowing anything about exploding gas tanks and what not, ignorance was bliss. 



2017 Nissan Altima - Pays To Be Nice

Having been disappointed more often than not when I've rented cars, given the opportunity, I take the extra second or two and inspect what's available to me so the several days a rental is essentially mine is as enjoyable a experience as possible. This past week I did just that and I passed on a gaggle of Malibu's, Camry's and Fusion's and went with this non descript Nissan Altima instead. Why? For no other reason than because it had Nissan's lovely, if evergreen, 3.5 liter V-6. While the wife wasn't happy with the color, the stench of Febreze covering up cigarette smoke, general filth, grime and wear and tear didn't help either, the idea of several days with a big old fashioned V-6 instead of a hybrid or over turbo boosted four-cylinder was strong enough to overcome Alamo's terrible prep job. Seriously, Alamo; what the hell?

Cut to the chase - the big engine did not disappoint. Smooth and rev happy, it pulled like a freight train with the slightest tap of the gas and when called on for passing hurled this rather large, amorphous blob of a car with ease; the jump to 80, 90 miles per hour from 60 coming on in the blink of an eye. No frantic, manic turbocharged surging and with a growl that's becoming less and less common with the influx of annoyingly antiseptic "modern" engines and drive trains.  I swear, car engines sound more like blenders than ever. While this car had an incredible amount of torque steer, I had so much fun driving it that I was able to look past that and its wretched CVT transmission. Nissan has retuned the CVT so it behaves more like a conventional transmission; the only time I knew it was a CVT was at low speed and when I floored the gas. Outside that, the CVT was seamless and I got a respectable 26.7 miles per gallon. Impressive.

Now, I could gush all day long about how perfect the driving position was, thanks to an infinitely adjustable drivers seat, how nice the electro/hydraulic steering was and that the brakes grabbed like a race car's. If you want an in depth review of this car you can google for one but I want to discuss the fact that as much fun as this car was, given the chance I would not buy one. And that's too bad seeing what an enjoyable, comfortable car this is but there are several reasons for my general ambivalence towards it.

First off, with two kids coming to the end of their college careers, my family doesn't need a staid, responsible even if quite fun to drive "family car"; been there done that 2002 Ford Taurus et al. Hold on, for the record our Taurus was not fun to drive. Anyway, secondly, if we were looking for a family car, there are a myriad of other choices out there that offer similar if not greater performance for similar money. And they're, subjectively, better looking automobiles. I'd also steer clear of anything with a CVT; as smooth as the one in this car was, they're notorious for breaking down and being expensive to repair. 

Furthermore, I can understand why the family sedan is a dying breed; they just don't have the utility that cross overs have and, again, they don't have any of their styling mojo. Regardless of the fact that most of today's family sedans can run circles around most cross overs. And that's saying a lot considering how fabulous performers cross overs are today.

Regarding styling, while Nissan cleaned up the front end of the Altima for 2016 making it less of a Mazda 6 wannabee and more of a...well...I'm not sure what this car is...more of a generic 2018 sedan? Altima has never been a looker. Awkward at worst and somewhat interesting at best, the Altima has always been a lost middle child going back to when it first replaced the Stanza back in 1993. Regardless of the fact that the Altima and Maxima share the same chassis now, that wasn't always the case, as far as its slot in the Nissan lineup goes, is the Altima a cheapo Maxima or a upscale Sentra? Even the name of the thing seems like a knock off of its big brother Maxima.

I get the value proposition - our rental here came pretty well equipped with just about everything modern cars come with and it was pretty easy to figure out how to work its myriad gadgetry and drive briskly right from the start. I just can't see past its plight as nothing more than a rental. If anything, with the similarities between the Maxima and Altima, I might be inclined to look at a gently used, loaded Maxima. But an Altima? Sorry, love ya, red but no can do.

For four days turtling through south Florida holiday traffic, I did have a oh-so-spirited 400 mile round trip to the Jacksonville area, I could have done a lot worse than this unassuming power house of an appliance. By the way, for 2019, Nissan has redesigned the Altima making it even more dishwasher and microwave oven like in the process. And, newsflash, the V-6 is gone being replaced by, sigh, a 2.0 liter turbo in line four. Oh. Look. I'm doing 100 miles per hour in the blink of an eye but the experience is as satisfying as pureeing an avocado in a blender.

Good thing, then, that despite the shocking shape the car was in, I rented this when I had the chance. Quite fun.  By the way, when we dropped the car back off at Alamo before our flight home, we tactfully complained about how smelly and dirty the car was and they knocked 10% off our bill. Pays to be nice.

1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme - Winning By Default

Bill Mitchell, GM's brilliant vice president of design, retired from GM just as the downsized 1977 full size models debuted. Something tells me he had little if anything to do with the downsized intermediates that rolled out for 1978. Especially the four door sedans like this 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme.
 

As over the top ridiculous as the coupes were, especially those slant back nightmares, these sedans were equally as boring and nondescript. What's more, with the Oldsmobile and Buick models, they were virtually indistinguishable from one another.

 

 

You can't blame this car's banality on a GM mandate that their new mid size cars had to be within certain dimensions since these cars were larger on the outside than a 1955 Chevrolet; often times we can blame the size of the canvas for a compromised design but not in this case. If anything this car highlights just how difficult the design process is.
 

 

 

Poor design spilled over into the cabin too. The drive shaft hump is inexplicably huge and the location of the HVAC and radio controls are an ergonomic nightmare. The coupes suffered from the same goofy dash layout as well.
 



Things got worse back here. Not only is the hump as big as it is up front, the rear windows, famously, don't roll down. On my dad's 1980 Buick Century - again, literally the same car with Buick badging - I thought they didn't roll down as a safety precaution. Wishful thinking. No, they won't roll down because the rear bulk head is too far forward; there isn't room for the window to roll down.

Amazingly, these cars sold very well at first and held onto respectable sales through it's interminably long ten year production run. However, especially in the late 1970's, buyers had little choice. The imports really hadn't begun to take a bite out of GM sales and Ford and Chrysler were clueless. Well, to be fair, Chrysler was. Ford at least had a decent midsize car for 1978 with their Fox body Fairmont and Mercury Zephyr but they were, subjectively, ugly. At the end of the day, all things being equal and everything from The Big Three back then was a pile of poorly screwed together junk, styling wins.



Therefore, the Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme won by default; it was still better looking than anything Ford had. However, soon as viable options became available to buyers they jumped ship and more importantly, never came back. GM responded to the import onslaught and Ford's game changing Taurus replacing these cars with a series of intermediate coupes that showed buyers that not only could they no longer design a car that people found alluring, they had no idea what they wanted in the first place.





1956 Chrysler New Yorker Town and Country - One Day at a Time

The original "One Day at a Time" TV show was about a divorced mother named Ann Romano raising her teenage daughters Julie and Barbara in Indianapolis, Indiana. Ann was portrayed by the late Bonnie Franklin; Julie by Mackenzie Phillips and Barbara by Valerie Bertinelli. With a simple premise, a revolving cast of characters and storylines reflective of the issues of the times, the show remained on the air for a remarkable nine seasons from 1975 and 1984.

I caught a first season episode on "Antenna TV" recently and I was floored by the 1956 Chrysler Town and Country Ann and the girls are traveling in the opening credits. Wow, talk about random. Or, was it?

If I recall correctly, I don't believe that outside of quick glimpses of the car in the opening credits, of the show, there wasn't further reference to it. It wasn't a set piece like the Ford Gran Torino in "Starsky and Hutch" or even the Desoto Howard Cunningham had in "Happy Days". For that matter, it had less of a presence than the LaSalle, "that ran great", that Archie and Edith Bunker sing about in the opening credits of another Norman Leer TV classic, "All in the Family".

So, why did the producers use a beat up old Chrysler in the opening credits of the show? Well, probably to efficiently set the premise of the show and help develop the show's central characters. Rather than spend several episodes on Ann's crumbling marriage, divorce and subsequent move downstate after leaving her husband with daughters in tow, the producers gloss over all of that in the opening credits. We see them loading up the old bomb and then we see them take the trek to their new life in Indianapolis. Along the way, you'll notice, the Town and Country really stands out from everything else on the road; it was easy for the audience to keep an eye on. Even in the 1970's, cars from the '50's look as old as they do now. For certain, had the producers used something more contemporary, even a 1966 Town and Country, the car would have been harder to keep tabs on and would have blended into everything else giving the opening credits less impact as a table setter.

What's more, with regards to character development, the beat old station wagon establishes that Ann is far from wealthy; in fact, driving a car that old and decrepit she may, in fact, need to be on federal assistance. I mean, c'mon, it's missing its left from wheel cover - they've got to be poverty-stricken. I don't recall if the show ever dives into that subject matter but it's not a reach to say that Ann being on welfare is within the realm of being possible.

Similar to Michael Cimino's use of a 1959 Cadillac as a socio-economic metaphor in "The Deer Hunter", we can put some stock in the symbolic use of the Town and Country in "One Day at a Time" as a harbinger of happier times. After all, "One Day at a Time" premiered in 1975 - right in the midst of America's post-Vietnam/Watergate/gas crisis fog. Incidentally, "One Day at a Time" predated "The Deer Hunter" by three years; conspiracy theorists could surmise that Cimino was inspired by the 1956 Chrysler in the opening credits of "One Day at a Time". That's utterly ridiculous but you never know.

However, much like the lifestyle Robert DeNiro's character, Michael, in "The Deer Hunter" abides by, several things don't add up for Ann Romano and the '56 Town and Country. For instance, how is it, again like Michael in "The Deer Hunter", that someone of Ann's exuberance, intelligence, and emotional depth would lead such a spartan, hand to mouth lifestyle; one that we're led to believe was brought upon by a series of bad life choices? Much like Michael in "The Deer Hunter", it's possible that someone so bright could be so downtrodden but when we dig beneath the surface of what's visible, it really doesn't make sense. Poverty struck Ann Romano is almost patronizing to people of lesser means.

Just as well then that we never see Ann's Town and Country again outside of the opening credits of the first season of "One Day at a Time". Then again, in terms of casting, the car wasn't as miscast as  much as Bonnie Franklin was.

The Chrysler Town and Country was a series of coupes, sedans, station wagons and minivans produced between 1941 and 2016.

1997 Ford Thunderbird LX - A Peciliar Dinosaur

I came across this 1997 Ford Thunderbird LX V-8 during one of my recent "cheap car searches" and it really underscores how much the "automobile" has changed over the last twenty years or so; in particular the last decade. Yes, the car as we know it is becoming all but extinct but one of its offshoots that became, for all intents and purposes, extinct more than a decade ago, will in the near future seem as odd as a peculiar dinosaur you see in a museum. How did that thing survive in the wild in prehistoric times anyway?
 

The Ford Thunderbird and its myriad imitators, Ford invented the personal luxury car segment with their seminal four-passenger, two-door Thunderbird in 1958, survived as long as they did because they appealed to buyers who wanted to make a fashion statement with what they drove. Although far less practical than the sedans they shared platforms and running gear with, they were, for the most part, aesthetically more pleasing as well. For the record, these "tenth generation" Ford Thunderbirds and its Mercury Cougar stable mate, were rather unique in that they utilized a proprietary chassis that wasn't used by any sedan. The 1993-1998 Lincoln Continental Mark VIII used a variation of the  chassis as well.

Personal luxury cars were purchased by people who either wanted to be construed as having good taste, didn't have a family, were single and ready to mingle or a combination of all of the above. Rarely was a one purchased because it performed well. Buyers of these cars are "look at me" people and they're fickle as they come. They could just as soon look at this Thunderbird and see it as as their grand parent's car as quickly as they'd say a 1980 hunchback Cadillac Seville was. 

These days with young, young at heart and old tastemakers opting for swiss army knife capable crossover sport utility vehicles instead of even sedans, something that's little more than a fashion statement seems as quaint as using a typewriter or only having a flip phone. For someone who grew up with two door cars making splashy styling statements, it takes a fair amount of mental gymnastics for me to understand how something that's first and foremost practical can also be alluring. To me, stylish utility vehicles would be like gym wear that's also appropriate at a wedding.

However, the demise of the personal luxury car began long before the onslaught of crossovers. Well, to be fair, you can still get one today but aside from Buick's absurd "Cascada",  and Cadillac's oddly proportioned ATS coupe, you have to go import to get one. And you'll pay dearly for it too. Anyway, as many personal luxury cars as The Big Three may have sold, the meteor that killed them off struck in 1978 when General Motors downsized their intermediate line and that included their personal luxury car lineup. Replacing iconic or moronic designs (depends on your point of view) like the 1973 Chevrolet Monte with a cartoonish knockoff was but one of many mistakes GM has made over the last fifty years. Ford and Chrysler followed suit with debatably as bad or worse downsizing jobs on their personal luxury cars. Just like that, what was once a fashion statement became as outdated as leisure suits. And when gas prices dropped, coupe buyers jumped to trucks.

Ironic then that just as Ford really got it right, the market for personal luxury cars was well on its way to drying up. The MN12 chassis these 1989-1997 Thunderbirds were built on, derided as it was for being heavy, was a robust structure that gave the Thunderbird a rigidity that prior Thunderbird's never had. And with the right engine and suspension tuning, made for a spirited automobile finally  worthy of being called, "Thunderbird".

Too bad Ford missed the mark with the design. What was allegedly inspired by the BMW E24 (6 series) came off as a cheap and bland imitation. Extra cladding  on the wonderful "Super Coupe", which Ford dropped after 1995, made it more NASCAR hunky but these 1994-1997 LX'  lack visceral appeal above and beyond being just a two door car. Again, us coupe buyers are fickle bunch but if a coupe doesn't look marvelous, we'd just as soon drive a four door sedan or, heaven forbid, a cross over. 

4th Generation Pontiac Trans Am - Screaming Chicken

Purpose built, high performance cars that force their drivers and occupants to make supreme sacrifices in comfort are all but non existent these days. Today's "pony cars" are so refined and easy to live with they might as well be cross over sport utility vehicles. So, imagine my delight when I came across this "fourth generation" Pontiac Trans Am last weekend. I don't know what model year it is but I do know it's a '93-'97 based on its front end.



 

I was also happy to see that instead of being some painfully original "trailer queen", our subject here, at least at one time during it's very long life, was in the hands of someone who really appreciated what they had here. These cars and their corporate twins, the Chevrolet Camaro, never came with a Hurst Shifter option. The Hurst replacing the annoying GM "skip shift" manual that forced drivers to shift from first to fourth rather than go into second under light throttle; all in the interest of fuel economy. While it was fairly straight forward to disable, someone here went instead to the extreme of swapping in the Hurst. You see its handle in all its chrome glory to the right of the steering wheel.

 

 

I'll stop short of heaping further praise upon the Hurst Shifter swap since someone, not necessarily the person who did the swap, also saw to it to festoon their car with these badges. Who cares?

 

Oh. And what is that on the hood? Is that what I think it is? Yes it is. A "screaming chicken" hood decal. "Snowman, what's your 20?"

 

 

Granted, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and no doubt this hood bird was applied with the best of intentions but still, instead of looking cool, it looks home made and any shred of "cool" goes flying out the T-tops. A quick search on ebay uncovered several choices of "laughing phoenix" decals that are replica's of the iconic '70's 'birds that decorated second generation T/A's. They certainly look like they'd fit neatly on the narrower hood of our  fourth gen T/A here. Makes you wonder.

 





 

Pontiac first offered the hood decal, it's a stylized phoenix not a chicken, on 1973 Trans Am's. The idea behind it was to make the inverted shaker in the middle of the hood appear as though it belongs there. I don't get that - I think the shaker would look fine without it. Although, I have to admit that somehow, someway, the hood decal works gloriously well on these cars.

 

 

It got larger in subsequent model years. The largest of them being festooned on the "Smokey and the Bandit" cars featured in the 1977 movie blockbuster. By the way, Pontiac did not offer the hood decal on third or fourth generation Trans Am's.

 



 

I hung around for several minutes hoping the owner would appear. No such luck. Love to get the story behind the car, the Hurst Shifter and most importantly, this hood decal. No doubt it's going to be a good one.

 

 

 

2002 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS - The Dale Lives On

This is the latest in an ongoing series on my trials and tribulations keeping my old car on the road.

For the second time in about the last thirty days, this past Tuesday, my 2002 Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS wouldn't turn over as I was leaving the office. Now, it would be one thing if it wouldn't start at home but being that I work twenty-seven miles from where I work, it would be one big pain in the ass if I couldn't get it started. Luckily and just like the last time it did this, it eventually did turnover but not without a catch - it wouldn't stay running. Every time the tachometer dropped below 1000 rpm, the engine stalled out.

To keep it running I kept my foot on the gas to keep the revs up. Coming up to stop lights or having to deal with the little traffic there is here in Cleveland, I had to throw the car in neutral while braking with my left foot while keeping the revs boiling with my right. Of course, a time or two, it stalled out but it turned right back over. To make matters even more interesting, the cruise control wouldn't work so couldn't force the engine to stay at a certain rpm. There was no check engine light on either. However, and just like the last time, eventually the cruise did kick in and everything was fine. I got the car home and turned it over ten times in a row without a hitch.

Knowing that these intermittent problems always become more "mittent", I dropped the car off at Conrad's Friday afternoon for a diagnosis and an oil change. I gave the master mechanic a detailed rundown as to what was going on and he feverishly typed what I said into his 1991 vintage PC.  After he finished typing he looked at me with a serious glare in his eye that I have to imagine a doctor has when they have to tell a patient grim news and he said he had no idea what could be causing the car to not start and stall. Especially since there's no check engine light on and the problem is intermittent. After I left the shop, I waited for the phone to ring with a diagnosis. I braced for impact.

Much to my delight, when I got the call from Conrad's it turned out to be nothing more than a failing mass air flow sensor or "MAF". The "MAF" does what its name implies; it measures the flow of air into a fuel injected engine. They also have a wide variety of symptoms when they start to go. The last time the MAF went on my car, which was maybe 2 1/2 years ago at the most, I felt at times that I was getting gently rear-ended at times and the transmission wasn't making the cleanest nor smoothest of shifts. I feared it was something dire like the transmission failing.  On the 1996 Chevrolet Camaro's my boys drive, failing MAF's made them near impossible to drive. The engines ran rough and could barely shift between gears.

What gets me is how much shops charge to replace simple sensors like MAF's. The all-in cost of having Conrad's diagnose the problem, change my oil and swap out the MAF was $491. That breaks down to $100 for the diagnostic, $25 for an oil change, $338 for a new MAF, ($225 for the part and $113 for labor) and ancillary bullshit shop fees and taxes. I thanked Conrad's for the diagnosis and oil change and got out the door for $153. They also recommended some other services like cleaning the fuel injectors and changing out spark plugs and wires jacking up the potential cost of the day to $745. I appreciate the fact that these shops have huge overhead but...wow; I have to wonder how many people take them up on these recommendations? Thanks, but no thanks.

I bought a new, actually remanufactured, MAF from NAPA for $153 saving $183. Two small screws and a plug later and my car is running as good as new; it took me less than five minutes to do the swap. While I'm certainly not happy about having dropped $308, especially the kick in the groin that is Conrad's diagnostic fee, I do have the peace of mind that the MAF was the problem. Also, not knowing what the problem was beforehand, my wife and I were prepared for the worst; replacing the whole car if it came back that there was something prohibitively expensive to repair. $308 is a relative drop in the bucket and money, in my opinion, very well spent. Especially when I consider that on the cheap end, I may have jumped into a replacement car that may have cost me $300 a month for the next 36 to 48 months. All good.

Pushing 165,000 miles, "The Dale" lives on.