1977 Little Red Corvette - Reassembly Part 1 - A Man's Got to Know his Limits

I've been most fortunate over the years that the number of catastrophic mistakes I've made either working on my cars or home improvement projects have been minimal. I can't say they've been few and far between since with any project something's bound to go wrong but I'm usually able to work through them. I'm fond of saying that it's not really a "project" until something goes wrong. I say that in gest but there's a lot of truth to that. 

One such incident I could not work my way through was recently when I was reassembling the rear end on our 1977 Corvette. It's not like I was sloppy or rushing things. In fact, the biggest and no doubt most expensive "oops" of my "DIY" career may have been because I was being unnecessarily thorough. Years of research, meticulous attention to detail and anticipation of what could go wrong can only do you so much good; when you make an honest, inexperienced or rookie mistake like breaking off the head of a bolt, like getting knocked down in life, it's how you react that's most important.

Yes. I broke a bolt - and an important one too. It was one of four bolts that secures the strut carrier to the bottom of the differential. If that sounds ambiguous - it's not. I thought I could get by with three bolts since the carrier itself is very heavy gauge iron but there's four there for a reason and three is not what the engineers called for. There's four to offset the tremendous torsional action on the rear struts that keep the camber and toe in proper alignment on the rear tires. 

What happened was rather than simply tightening the bolts down "snuggly", I felt compelled to "torque-them-down" to eighty foot-pounds. The first bolt clicked at eighty without any fanfare but the next one, the one closest to the driver's left side rear wouldn't "click". So, I kept going and going until I finally did hear a click of sorts but it wasn't the satisfying "snick-snuck" of a torque wrench hitting it's desired spec. It was the snap of the head of the bolt. 

I tried to shake it off at first like being startled awake by a bad dream. I don't remember if I went to torque another bolt down or not but I do recall thinking to my self that I should back that bolt out and put it back in; the head was still attached to the bolt. Y'know, to be "safe". I put my torque wrench in reverse and the head of the bolt came off in the socket. The rest of the bolt, threads and all, torqued deeply into the case of the differential.   

It's only in retrospect that I can say for certain what I should have done next was certainly not what I actually did. What I should have done was pull the differential out and take it back to the shop that rebuilt it for me and have them try and get the bolt out. Nope - rather than do that I really complicated matters by attempting to get the damn thing out myself. 

There are plenty of youtube videos showing you how to get a broken bolt out. A number of them involving broken bolts on the insides of engines too. Yikes. They're pretty interesting, informative and straight forward and of course, nothing ever goes wrong in them. In the videos that are posted at least. I'll cut to the chase - getting a broken bolt out is not for the faint of heart or inexperienced shade-tree, garage mechanics like me. It's something best left to professionals. Or at least someone who's done it before on something that's not as expensive and important as an automobile differential. 

To make a long story short, after failing repeatedly to back the bolt out using a bolt extractor, failures that included the bolt extractor breaking off in what was left of the bolt, I punctured the differential case attempting to drill the bolt out. The gooey, sticky, smelly gear oil spilling out onto my drill like a tapped maple tree. 

I experienced a heady combination of emotions as my freshly rebuilt differential slowly bled to death into a red rubber bucket in my garage. My garage filling up with the obnoxious aroma of 80-90 weight gear oil that smells like sweat socks left to bake in a hamper for a week or more. Crestfallen, humiliated and frustrated, I marched into my house screaming my head off. My wife, bless her heart,  was great about it. Hearing me yell as loudly as I did she thought I had chopped off a finger or worse. When she realized it wasn't that bad she all but shrugged off what had happened. At the time I certainly wished for damage to an appendage of mine rather than face the onerous task of remedying a massive "eff-up". 

At the time of course she had no idea what had happened or what an ordeal it would be to be fix it. At that point I wanted to push the the entire pile-of-junk into Lake Erie but that was impossible since it had no rear wheels. I knew the differential case or carrier was toast and replacing it was going to be expensive and time-consuming.  Online, differentials for our car run from just under a thousand dollars for ones that still need stub axles and a rear cover for just shy of two-grand for a complete assembly. Even an empty case like I busted runs about $700 and that's one that doesn't anything inside it. To say I was "screwed" was an understatement. And, no, my swapping the gears into another case was out of the question; a man's got to know his limits. I resorted to that great online garage sale shit show known as Craigslist. And hit pay dirt. 

I found a complete assembly north of Detroit for next to nothing that the owner, a suspension engineer for Ford of all things, claimed came out of a '73. It seemed ok but honestly I really didn't know. I had my doubts but the case was solid and that's what, at the end of the day, I really needed. I did my best to try and determine if the half shafts or stub axle tolerances were ok and what not but it's hard to tell. Best thing I did was swallow my pride and take both differentials back to the shop that did the initial rebuild and fall on their mercy. Sure enough, they said the "new" differential I bought was "on-it's-way-out", but of course, and for a not unreasonable sum, they swapped the gears from my punctured, ruined diff into the "new" one I bought up in Detroit. 

So, now we're back to square one with a totally dismantled car sitting in my garage. I've been at this since mid-June but I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. And I'll be damned if I make the same mistakes again.  Let's go. 

1971 Pontiac - Heartache On the Dance Floor

I'm surprised that full "concept" music videos still exist these days. Slickly produced ones are expensive to make and I wonder if the lack of centralized platforms that cater to specific audiences  makes them worth while. I guess, seeing how many "views" the 2017 video for Jon Pardi's hit country song, "Heartache On the Dance Floor" has gotten on youtube.com, more than forty-five million as I write this on Halloween morning 2020, they apparently do. Like any movie studio, most likely the videos for songs that are successful help to monetize productions that aren't. A "full concept" video, incidentally, is one where the artist is in some scenario other than what we may know them best for. This being a car blog I'll focus my attention on what I construe to be the real star of the video, this sky-blue 1971 Pontiac. 

Best I can tell this is either a 1971 Pontiac LeMans or a "T-37". "T-37" was a GM model designation denoting a two-door coupe and for '71, apparently someone thought it a good idea to tag Pontiac's entry level mid-size coupe or sedan "T-37" akin to Chevrolet's "Camaro Z-28"; although "Z-28" was a top-of-the-line model. From 1964-1970 Pontiac's entry level intermediate was the "Tempest". From '61-'63 "Tempest" was tagged onto Pontiac's version of the Chevrolet Corvair. 

Not saying the letter "Z" or the number "28" is "cooler" than  "T" or "37" but from the start, "Z-28" connotated something more than just a model designation. "T-37" sounding as exciting as a part number for a dishwasher or the size of a Torx bit. Pontiac only offered the "T-37" and a high performance version they called "GT-37" in 1971 and 1972. 

One thing for certain is that this car is certainly not a "GTO" as depicted in this still. Interestingly, this GTO badge is the only labeling on this car save for the Pontiac logo we see on the steering wheel in a couple of the interior shots. 

If this is not a GTO then why is it there? Well, it wasn't that uncommon years ago for folks to tag their lesser ware with the label of something that was decidedly more interesting or more expensive. Festooning "GTO" to the grill of what may very well be a six-cylinder powered, rental grade coupe is, if anything, a bit perturbing since those who actually cared about such things knew and know better. 

It's not uncommon to remove all ornamentation on a car before painting it - this does appear to be a somewhat fresh respray - and whomever did it left off the LeMans or T-37 badges you'd find on the lower front fender behind the tires. If you look closely here, you can see that the driver's door and the left fender don't line up properly. Note that gap at the bottom front. Yikes. In fairness, if you've ever hung body panels on a car that's been damaged, you know how hard that can be to do properly even if the frame or body shell hasn't been compromised. Either that or the hinge-pins are shot or the hinges themselves need to be realigned. 

Further proof this is not a GTO - we see here the dashboard doesn't have the "engine-turned" metal trim plate that GTO's had. Shout out to the producers having the good sense to have the car in "DRIVE" during these scenes where the car is moving since it's most likely being towed or on a trailer. 

Also, Pontiac fans, note the lack of an engine "call-out" tag on the sill below the front fenders behind the tires. Again, whomever did the repair or restoration work on this car may have removed them, we actually never see the right side of the car for confirmation, but six-cylinder T-37's and LeMans' didn't get a "250" badge "calling-out" the two-hundred fifty cubic inch Chevrolet inline six they had. The gaggle of V-8's, from the Pontiac 350 to the 400 and the 455 all had "badges". 

Which leads me to a question I will probably never get answered - why was this car cast in the video? 

Could be as simple as Jon wanting "an old muscle car" in it and this is what was available economically or otherwise. A non-car person's idea of a muscle car is a "car-person's" weak kneed poser. This car could actually belong to Jon or someone, perhaps Jon himself, wanted an old blue car to go along with the blue hues we see throughout the video. Fitting somewhat considering parts of the video, shot in somewhat super-slo'-mo', is supposedly a dream Jon is having. The color blue in dreams denoting the sky and sea. It's also the color of peace, calm, trust, wisdom, loyalty, intelligence, confidence, truth and faith. All that a tall order for a fifty-year old Poncho coupe but it fits the bill. 

Fits the bill even if Jon, who stands nearly six foot four, struggles to fit behind the wheel of this "not-small" Pontiac mid-sizer. Stereotypical as it may seem, I have to wonder why they didn't opt for a an old blue pickup instead of this thing. As musically talented as Jon is, much like, say, Dierks Bentley, he's not exactly the country-est of country stars in the way Luke Combs is. His music may very well be but he's certainly not so that might explain why the vehicular foil in this video was cast against type. 

 

I'll never know, of course, unless I meet up with Jon (which is highly unlikely these days) and like most times with nebulous questions the answers are probably not that interesting. That said, fun cool song and video. By the way, so you know it's not always about cars, the object of Jon's affection in the video is model and actress Tasha Franken. Note the blue streak. 

"Heartache on the Dance Floor" was written by Jon, Bart Butler and Brice Long and is featured on Jon's 2016 album, "California Sunrise". The song reached numbers three and five on the two Country Music Charts the music industry deems most important. It was certified Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) denoting sales of over one million units in the United States.

Pontiac branded an intermediate size automobile "LeMans" through 1981. They sold a "captive-import" produced by South Korean automaker "Daewoo" as a "LeMans" from 1988-1994. 

1977 Little Red Corvette - The Search for Parts

This is the second in a series of blogs on my rebuilding the rear end on the 1977 "Little Red Corvette" my wife and I bought for ourselves several years ago. Today we'll deal with the search for parts. Click here to read my blog about the epic dismantling of the rear of our car.  

About a week ago I dropped off the differential and drive shafts for the Corvette at a shop near our home here in Cleveland that specializes in such things. They called me yesterday with an estimate to rebuild the differential of around $900. Ouch. That on top of my having them replace the universal joints on the drive shafts will have "the differential" part of this project coming in around $1,200-$1,300. I assured my wife that the whole project would come in under $1,500 - that budget has now been ground to shreds like the stub axles inside my differential.  

I found several differentials on Craigslist between $350 and $500 that were available from folks parting out their 1968-1979 third generation Corvette's; 1980-82 C3's use a different carrier. Quite the savings and even though a couple came with more aggressive gearing than ours has, it's a 3.08:1, what stopped me from getting one was no guarantee they didn't have anything wrong with them either. 

The crux of the entire project, again, was the trailing arms. After determining that they both needed more than just replacement of their bushings and shims, I again tried to find replacements from Corvette's that were parted out. No such luck there at all. Most of the ones I looked at were in the same or worse shape than mine. Rebuild service on my trailing arms started at $699. Each. Brand new ones coming in at around $949. Again, that's for each. Oh, brother. Years ago we should have bought a Chevelle. Would have been cheaper in the long run. 

I think I lucked out finding a Corvette junkyard of sorts about an hour or so east of Pittsburgh that had a pair of freshly rebuilt trailing arms out of an '82 Corvette for $275 each. I say "lucked out" because I won't know how good they are until everything is back together. While the differential on '82's is different than the one on my '77, the trailing arms are the same. They also had a pair of re-manufactured strut rods for $50. It was a solid eight hour round trip but my wife and I were able to stop by the Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville, Pennsylvania on the way home. A road trip during a pandemic? Mask up. BTW, if you're ever in that area and see the signs for it, you must take the time and visit. It's magnificent. 

Next up on the parts hit parade was the leaf spring. Brand new, which is recommended, the nine-leaf spring that my car came with costs about $149. Plus shipping and handling. I was seriously thinking about going with a composite or "mono-leaf" spring that 1981-1982 Corvettes' came with but they run  between $350 and $500. What's more, because apparently the spring rate on the composite spring, known officially as the "filament-wound-fiberglass-composite automotive spring" has a different spring rate than the steel spring, I'd have to get high-performance shocks that run around $125. Each. I found  a steel, nine leaf spring on Craigslist for $50 from a guy who had bought it from a parted-out 1969. I scraped what surface rust there was on it and spray-painted it black. I know, I know. What could go wrong going with a fifty-year old leaf spring? Shocks ran me around $100 for a set of four. My differential guy recommended I not go with anything more exotic than what the car came with originally. Thank you, Amazon Prime for the free shipping. 

I did buy some ancillary parts brand new from Corvette America that ran about $125. A shackle bolt kit with polyurethane bushings, shims for the trailing arms and a new Snubber bushing, yes, a "Snubber" bushing, that connects the differential to the frame of the car. I know I have to rework the parking brake cable so there's that expense to come too. I'm sure they'll be more. And it's not like the rear end of the car is the only thing that needs work. I have a sneaky feeling all this work to the rear of the car is going to highlight how much work the front end is going to need. 

Let's get crackin' putting this thing back together. Onward and upward. 

1971 Ford LTD - When The Big Ford was Fab

I haven't come across too many old cars in the flesh worth blogging about since the pandemic began.  Seems owners of the old stuff have kept their cars quarantined as well. Most of what I have blogged about over the last six to eight months have been special interest projects of my own or inspiration from my online cheap-car searches. Imagine my delight this past Sunday when I literally stumbled across this big old Ford behind a repair shop near my home here in Cleveland, Ohio that I was dropping off a jug of used gear oil behind. It's a 1971 Ford LTD Brougham and there's nothing like something you find yourself. 

In my very humble opinion, there aren't too many Ford's manufactured between 1949 and 1972 that I think can go bumper-to-bumper with most anything from General Motors. Ford's 1969 LTD was one of those rare exceptions and the update they did to them for 1971 made them even better looking. Ford screwed the whole thing up come 1973 but from 1969-1972, especially in 1971 and 1972, the big Ford was fab. Oh, and for the record, I'm referring to the coupes. The four door sedans, especially the pillared sedans, I have no use for. Wagons are perfectly fine. And at the risk of sacrilege, I think I might like these better than a 1971 or 1972 Chevrolet Impala Coupe. I Might. I know all too well that being as loyal as I am, given a choice between them, I'll always go GM. 

The most distinctive styling change on the '71's from the 1969 and '70 LTD was on the front end. Similar to what Pontiac had been doing on their full-size models going back to 1967, is it me or is this not an update of what the Edsel would have evolved into had Ford not pulled the plug on it? We also have to keep in mind that for a brief moment Pontiac's honcho, Bunkie Knudsen, was in charge of Ford and he was a big fan of the open mouth grill. Some referred to it as the "Bunkie Beak" as he rubber stamped it to must lesser success on the 1970 - 1972 Ford Thunderbird. Somehow it worked beautifully on, of all things, Ford's 1971 and 1972 full size cadre. 

Like I pointed out in my blog about that small town '69 LTD not long ago, what I think I like about these big Ford's is that they look like they could be GM designs. The Chevrolet-like Rally Rims helping to add some GM mystique to the Big Oval design. They sure look like GM Rally's you'd find on various Chevrolet's and Pontiac's but they almost can't be. I swear I can recall as kid seeing Sears selling various wheel knock-offs from The Big Three right out of their catalog. 

I have mixed feelings about stuff like this - sometimes it works but most often times it doesn't. I'm not such a purist that I think they look out of place just because they're a GM inspired wheel on a Ford, I happen to think they don't look half bad. However, knowing what I know, I can't look past them. My wife was with me when I saw this car and I asked for her opinion on the matter and she gave me the blank stare down that she gives me when she could care less about what it is I'm asking her. 

This big brute is far from perfect. Nefarious dents here and there, rust bubbles under the vinyl roof. I neglected to photograph the interior - the seats are in good shape but the dash is all ripped out. Perhaps that's why it's back here. A side project after hours for one of the mechanics at the shop. 

What? No rudimentary after market dual exhaust? And who knows what lurks under the massive hood. If it's the stock motor it's either a 351 or 400 cubic inch, "two-barrel" V-8. A 429 V-8 was optional...how fun would that be in this? I thought of opening the hood but this is a new repair facility and no doubt there's surveillance cameras all over the place. I'm sure they got my license plate - not that they'd come after me for dropping off a jug of poison for them to dispose of but anything more than simple fawning over a car like this would be circumspect to trespassing. I did open the passenger side door and got a good whiff of that to-die-for old car smell. That would be that aroma of gas, rubber, plastic and who knows what else. If I trespassed then, your honor, I'm guilty as charged. 

This is a dealer sticker from a long defunct Ford dealership in southern Ohio east of Cincinnati on the Ohio - Kentucky border. I've always found these things obnoxious - ok, I buy the car from you and then I have to drive it around as a rolling advertisement for you? So many dealers did this back then and many of them going to so far to rivet a chrome dealer emblem on rather than an impossible to remove sticker. If you're not familiar with the geography of the great state of Ohio, Cincinnati is in the southwest corner of the state and Cleveland is in the western part of what is referred to as "northeast Ohio". The fact this car originally hails from "down there" might be why it's in reasonably rust free condition. Well, save for the bubbles under the vinyl top. They don't get a but a smidgen of the awful winter weather we get up here and that means a whole lot less metal eating rock salt on the roads. 

Well, as far as "old car season" goes, we're just about at the end of it up here. Not that it's been much of one this year with the pandemic and all. That's why it was extra special to see something like this this past weekend. My own personal one car car show and I loved it. They say this damn thing will end one day. That one day can't come soon enough for a whole bunch of reasons. 

1962 Chevrolet Impala - Move to the Sun Belt

 

I grew up on Long Island in the 1970's and rusty hulks from the 1960's, where everywhere and they looked like you could just fold them them and throw them away. Cars from the '70's and the '80's didn't seem to rust as much and certainly cars from the '90's and beyond didn't seem to rust at all. I've always chalked that up to The Big Three's vast improvement in corrosion resistance over the ensuing decades. And imports always seemed impervious to any rusting what-so-ever. I've lived in sunny locales like Dallas, Texas and Nashville, Tennessee over the years and down there I rarely if ever saw a rusty or what is referred to as a "rusted-out" car or truck. Then I moved the family here to bucolic Cleveland, Ohio and suddenly I was eight years old again with my eyes be-sodden with a slew of rusted out bombers from all decades domestic and foreign. Seriously - the amount of rusty vehicles up here is incredible. This shot-to-shit 1962 Chevrolet Impala four-sedan a prime example of what I see up here every day and is also a time-machine to my woe-begotten youth back on Long Island. 

Typically, rust, or oxidation of metal, occurs when the metal is exposed to iron, oxygen or water. The chemical reaction between the metal and the iron, oxygen or water breaks down or oxidizes the metal causing the appearance of rust. On painted surfaces, like on an automobile, rust can occur when the paint is scratched, even in the slightest, or the underside or back of stamped metal, for instance a door or fender, is unpainted, wasn't properly sealed or treated at the factory or it's protection has eroded off over time. In the case of this sorry Impala, it comes from an era when it was just a matter of time before the elements got the best of it. Seeing this thing is now fifty-eight years old it's somewhat a miracle it's still "alive" now. 

Well, "alive" is a relative term. That "283" down there is all seized up - can't even spin the crankshaft with a plug or two out. Blown rod, crank, whatever. It's dead. And I wouldn't put any faith in its Powerglide either. Blame the relentless summer time humidity up here for most if not all of that harmless surface rust or what some refer to as "patina". It's as sticky as South Florida up here between Memorial Day and Labor Day; the saving grace is it rarely gets that hot. 

While New York and other states in the North East are part of what is referred to as the "Salt Belt", that is states in the U.S. that use rock salt in winter to melt snow and ice and give drivers traction, there's something almost perverse about rust here. You don't see it Pennsylvania nearly as much, Michigan has it to some degree too but up here on the shores of Lake Erie, rust is a way of life making the best efforts of corrosion resistance engineers seemingly a waste of time. 

In addition to being known as the "salt belt", this region of the country is also referred to by some as the "rust belt". Rust belt is an incongruous term that denotes not only a rash of rotting, oxidized metal but it also describes a vast region stretching the from north east to Wisconsin that's seen a prolonged economic downturn. 

  

Seemingly like the pandemic, if you live in the salty rust belt, rust affects us all. This Impala worse than most cars that are still above ground. That there in all its infamous glory is the GM "X-frame" that underpinned many GM designs from 1957-1964. While it's survived the elements for the most part we can't say the same about the driver's side floor pan. 

The GM X-frame allowed for a low floor which was important in an era of longer, lower and wider.  The cars were gorgeous, my favorites of the era were the 1961 "bubble top" coupes, but they were deadly in a serious crash. The problem with many of the X cars was that side impact reinforcement was done by bulking up the sides of the body as opposed to the actual frame. Nearly sixty years of good old fashioned Ohio road brine on our '62 here and you have next to zero side impact protection. 

If you're wondering - we're looking up through the trunk here - or what's left of it. This is like one of those fascinating cross-sections of whatever you'd see at some sort of car or industrial design show. From here we can also see how safely tucked into the middle of the car the gas tank is. Despite being rusty as hell, this still ain't no Ford Pinto. Although, who knows how rigid the rear frame is on this thing. 

What if anything can be done to stop this kind of corrosion? Good question. Since we've lived here it seems that everything rusts - even cars not five years old yet. So that tells me there's something different about the salt they use here compared to the stuff they use on Long Island or PA or Michigan. Some say find a car wash that does the under carriage and have that done constantly. Especially during the winter. Best thing to do, though, to avoid rust is move to the Sun Belt. 

1977 Chevrolet Malibu Classic - Shakin' (Rosanna's Daddy's Car)

The video for the late and wonderful Eddie Money's 1982 hit song, "Shakin'" is a cinematic-ally filmed production featuring Eddie being taken for the ride of his life in, of all things, a 1977 Chevrolet Malibu Classic. 

The video came up recently as a suggestion to watch on my youtube.com feed and I bit. Bit hard and I had several takeaways after watching it for the first time in what's probably decades. For starters, what a great song. The beat, the production, the silly and inane lyrics - it's mindless 1980's pop-rock at its finest and most wonderful. Secondly, I never realized that the actress who plays  "Rosanna", as in "Rosanna's daddy had a car she loved to drive", was Patricia Kotero, also known as Apolonia from Prince's "Purple Rain" movie. Then again, "Purple Rain" (the movie) came out two years after the video for "Shakin'" was played on MTV ad nauseum so it's understandable how I never connected the two. 

I wondered now as I did then why a '77 Malibu was chosen for "Rosanna" to drive and not something more visually compelling like at least the 1968 Chevrolet Impala Custom Coupe that's also featured in the video. There's also a split second shot of a 1980 Cadillac Coupe deVille in the scene when Eddie and Rosanna are parked in front of Rae' Diner in Santa Monica, California. Rae's is still there, it's open and looks all but the same as it did when the video was filmed for Shakin'. 

Chevrolet's 1973-1977 Malibu was part of GM's polarizing "colonnade" series of intermediate sized two and four-door sedans and station wagons. They were called such because they had a center pillar or "column" whereas previous designs, on some sedan models and on all coupes, were exclusively hard-tops. "Hard-top" a semi-oxymoronic term for an automobile whose roof line allegedly resembles that of a convertible. On the "colonnades", the center pillar supposedly reinforced the roof structure in anticipation of more stringent federal roll-over regulation that never materialized. 

The Malibu in the video sharing much mechanically and structurally with a number of GM intermediate models across all their divisions except Cadillac and were derided for their sheer mass, inefficient ergonomics, terrible fuel economy and debatably questionable styling. While I take exception to the verisimilitude hurled at these cars, I will say that I much prefer the Chevrolet Monte Carlo, Pontiac Grand Prix, two-door Oldsmobile Cutlass and even the Buick Century and Regal colonnade coupes to Rosanna's father's car. Incidentally, the "Classic" moniker denoted the top-of-the-line Chevelle Malibu of the era and wasn't a claim by General Motors that these cars were "classic" by any means. Chevrolet kept the "Malibu" moniker through 1983 although they dropped the Chevelle nameplate for 1978; all Malibu's thereafter, even the plebeian sedans that they called "Malibu" starting 1997, are Chevrolet Malibu's whereas from 1964-1977 their proper names were "Chevelle Malibu". 

As for the 1968 Chevrolet Impala Custom Coupe that plays the part of the vehicular foil in the video, while big two-door coupes even by the time the video for "Shakin'" was produced were falling out of favor, there was growing appreciation for the older models. Especially pre-1971 models. Yes, in 1981 or 1982 when the video was shot the Malibu was newer and the Impala could have been construed as "old". We are talking forty or so years ago. However, a quick glance at a NADA used car value guide today illustrates my point. A 1977 Malibu Classic is worth about a third of what a 1968 Chevrolet Impala Custom Coupe is worth today. Then again, the video is less about cars as it is about, you know, "Shakin'". 

The Impala in the video is part GM's 1965-1970 generation of full-size cars that many believe to be the greatest designs in GM history. I don't disagree although I think some of Bill Mitchell and his team's designs of that era are better than others. Certainly they were part of what I refer to as the golden era of GM design from 1949-1972. GM design started to go downhill in 1973 with the advent of federally mandated five-mile per hour safety bumpers. Then the gas crisis hit, then downsizing, imports, recessions - let's not go there again how badly the 1970's sucked. 

There's not much love for the GM "colonnades" although they do have their dedicated, die-hard faithful. Side note - while rear fender spats or skirts were available on 1968 Caprice models, they were not available on Impala. What we see here on the Impala were obviously custom made. 

Aside from the casting of the Malibu in "Shakin'", what we do know about the actual car is that Arturo Garcia bought the car used in 1979 for $6,000. Within a year he had the car "lifted" and in 1981, the car was cast in the video. I could find little if any information as to why the car was cast in the video although Mr. Arturo, who apparently still owns the car, and his big blue Chevrolet, are quite famous in Southern California low-rider circles. Let's speculate that the producers of the video wanted to cast several low-riders in the shoot and they contacted the Southern California low-rider club whose members included Mr. Garcia. 

What are referred to as "low-riders" are usually large, full-perimeter frame automobiles that have modified suspensions that have been equipped with hydraulic pumps that enable the cars to be raised and lowered. Extreme versions have hydraulic systems so powerful that the cars can actually bounce up and down. When those cars are jumping around, they're usually doing so when operated remotely. 

Best I can tell from the video, Mr. Garcia's Malibu can't bounce up and down although we do see the car being raised and lowered hydraulically. I can quibble with the drag racing scene in the video since if anything, his Malibu, which was fresh from the factory pushing two-tons, was made even heavier with the fitment of the hydraulic pumps that enable the car to be lowered and subsequently raised. Additionally, at the time of the filming of the video, which we presume to have been done some time in 1981, modifying the car to make it more powerful to the extent it could even be construed as a drag-racer is somewhat unrealistic given the car would have had to pass extremely stringent emissions regulations in California. Nit-picky? Absolutely. Then again, this is a blog about cars that's doing the nit-pickin' about "Shakin'". 

The Malibu actually sucking the doors off the Impala, which would have been exempt from California emissions regulations since it was manufactured prior to 1975 is as funny today as it was back then. However, it is the stuff that Hollywood cinematic dreams are made of. 

Fun fact - the producers of the video were quite dismayed that Ms. Kotero could not dance and her wardrobe and pedestrian dance moves at the end of the movie were their best attempts to make her appear as though she had more ability than she actually did. 

I first met Eddie Money in the early to mid 1990's when he would come to one of the radio stations I worked back on Long Island. The Long Island native would stop by every time he'd play a venue on the Island to plug his show and, of course, we'd open our doors to him to come on the air and talk about his show and  allow him to be "Eddie". 

It wasn't brilliant radio but it mattered little. To have someone of such mega star power on our humble radio station that was also a "local" somewhat legitimized our sorry existence attempting to keep up with the giant stations out of Manhattan. He was just as nice as he could be too. Friendly, warm, kind,  approachable, self effacing. In short, just a regular guy from Levittown, Long Island who seemed charmingly taken back by his success. Over the years I moved onto stations in other cities and he'd stop by those too and each time he'd remember me like I was an old friend. Funny, I don't know why we're so impressed with ourselves when a celebrity remembers who we are but we are - perhaps we enjoy the slack-jawness of people whom might really impressed with that stuff. I knew Eddie's affability to everyone was what made him so endearing but still, for a celebrity of any magnitude, Eddie was exceptionally nice and for those few fleeting minutes over the years we'd see each other, he always made me feel as though I was a best friend from "back-in-the-day". 

Rest in peace old friend.