An all-new-for-1969 Chevrolet Impala was a "company car" of my father's years ago and I was enthralled with it in ways that nothing he ever had from Ford or Chrysler ever did. Not to mention that god awful Rambler he actually owned. These relatively rare and whimsical Impala convertibles transfixing me even more so since even at the tender age of five or six I was transfixed by whimsy. Family sized convertibles made absolutely no sense what-so-ever and for that reason alone I want one so badly; even though I certainly know better.
I don't want this particular beat to death, rusted out, overpriced rolling death trap but a '69 Impala SS convertible would be front and center in my Jay Leno-esque fantasy garage of cars. Particularly with it's "Victory Red" finish sanded down by mother nature. Too bad as we say this car is a "basket case".
Meaning that it needs everything and is beyond help. Mechanical issues are easy to deal with but this being a northern Ohio car it's got lots of nasty, unforgiving, foreboding rust. Floor boards need to be replaced and the trunk floor needs to go too. Good thing replacement floor boards come with the deal; just bolt 'em in, right? Quarter panels look like they're falling apart and, maybe it's just me but from the looks of things the interior needs a little work too. This is a parts car at best. And with an asking price of $5,000, an expensive one at that.
Now, onto my knowing better about family sized convertibles. Convertibles were never that popular and if anything were created as a way to efficiently ventilate automobiles before the widespread use of air conditioning. Even by the late '60's they were seen as frivolous and in the case of a large two door sedan, greatly diminished the vehicle's practicality. Not to mention compromising an already questionable structure. Chevrolet sold approximately one of these to every ten pillared four door sedans they sold. Even fifty years ago Americans were practical first and foremost. Damn it. Well, life is too short too practical; to be practical all the time anyway.
That Impala my father had rented was of course one of those soulless pillared four doors and not something awesome like this. Honestly, though, not sure how awesome this is anyway. The late, great Bud Lindemann's review of a '69 Impala hard top left me with the belief that the car was an underpowered, squishy dog with horrible brakes. And that car had front disc brakes and a 396 V-8 for crying out loud. This car is a heavier convertible with a 327. Still, if it were in anywhere decent shape the asking price would be twenty grand more and it still wouldn't be perfect but perhaps a better buy. You get this thing for less than four thousand and drop twenty into it you're still not going to have anything really. Here's the link for the ad if you're interested. Looks like you're going to need a trailer too. Good luck.
Here's Bud Lindemann's review of a '69 Impala. The piped in sound effects and cheesy production music don't do anything to take away from Mr. Lindemann's wonderfully deadpan frankness about the car.
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