1963 Oldsmobile Dynamic 88 - My Mother Was Right

General Motors market share of vehicles sold in the United States stood at a historically high 53.7 percent in 1963. Over the last fifty-eight years, basically, my lifetime, the confluence of circumstances and bad decisions has whittled that once all but monopolistic share down to just below 18%. 

Years ago I asked an older and sadly since passed away friend of mine, in his opinion, why he thought that GM had the market dominance that it did years ago. Without batting an eye he said bluntly, "Styling. GM just had the coolest cars." Based on this '63 Oldsmobile Dynamic 88, I'd say he was right on the money with his assessment. 

I came across this 1963 Oldsmobile Dynamic 88 in Celebrity trim recently during one of my cheap car searches. It's literally, simply gorgeous with nary a bad line on it. That's saying a lot considering just five model years before it, Oldsmobile's were probably the most chrome-drenched of any GM make; the embodiment of everything I find off-putting about 1950's domestics. Like many things before I was born in 1964, it has a certain mystery, innocense and, dare I say, sophistication and sheer honesty that I find most alluring. Sort of like a Marilyn Monroe in her prime; a timeless, ageless beauty who's as contemporary today as she ever was.

For 1963, Oldsmobile slotted the "88" between the "98" that rode on a chassis with a slightly longer wheelbase and the "full-size sports car" Olds called the "Star Fire".  Subsequently, the 88's were available in either "Super" or "Dynamic" models in four distinct body-styles. Hard top models were called "Holiday", pillared models, like our subject here, were called "Celebrity", station wagons were "Fiesta". Convertibles were simply, "convertibles".  I guess the Oldsmobile marketing department ran out of catchy names for body designations when it came time to peg the drop-top. 

Super 88's were also available in the same body styles making for a dizzying and blurry array of very   similar makes and models. The only tangible difference between the Super and Dynamic 88 and the Star Fire was the horsepower rating of their 394 cubic-inch, "Rocket" V-8 engines. The 394 in the Super made three-hundred thirty, in the Dynamic it made two-hundred eighty. The Star Fire, which was similar in concept to the Pontiac Grand Prix, Buick Wildcat and Chevrolet Impala SS 409, made three hundred forty-five. Sounds like a ton of power and not that it's not, but keep in mind that up until 1972, brake horsepower was rated at the fly wheel with no accessories on the engine. That "gross" rating was often times exaggerated or even underrated depending on manufacturer wants and needs. "Net" horsepower ratings are measured at the business end of the transmission and with all accessories on the engine. Carve roughly 40% of a gross rating to get an approximate net. 

Personally, the Star Fire with it's range topping power and two-door styling would have been my Oldsmobile jam. That or at least a "Holiday" Dynamic 88 coupe. This Walter Mitty-esque Celebrity sedan wouldn't row my land yacht. Kind of reminds me of what my father would have driven back then. Well, make that should have driven. 

I wish he drove something like this and not the boorish, ugly Rambler he had instead.  Then again, what my father was and I what I wanted him to be were diametrically different. I wanted John Wayne for a dad and he didn't even come up to be a Willie Loman. Anyway, again, I love the simplicity of this design that could only have been borne out of excess. That simplicity, in my opinion, got lost with next generation of full-size Oldsmobiles come 1965; even the '64's which are quite similar to this '63 look fussy in the details. The cartoonishly big models after 1971 even more so. During the great downsizing epoch, full-size Oldsmobile's to me seemed to be wannabee's of Oldsmobile's from this generation. Let's not even go there with the whole, "This is Not Your Father's Oldsmobile" bullshit. 

Thanks to the miserable marriage of my parents that made for a frankly hellish childhood, I naively if wistfully longed to have been alive in the time period before I was born. A time period that my mother swore was better. If GM design was indicative of that like my late friend pointed out so succinctly, I'd have to say she was right. 

1990 Pontiac 6000SE AWD - An Answer to a Question No One was Asking

For a couple of years back in the early to the mid 1980's, the Pontiac 6000 STE was one of few bright spots for a General Motors mired in mediocrity, and that's being kind, at the tail-end of what some refer to as the "Malaise Era" of autombile-dom. Sharing it's front-wheel-drive "A-body" with the Chevrolet Celebrity, Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera and the Buick Century, while Chevrolet, Oldsmobile and Buick  offered similar "Euro-tuned" versions, Eurosport, ES and T-Type respectively, it was the 6000 STE that was lauded for its taut suspension tuning, handling prowess and overall maneuverability. The 6000 STE was so good that Car and Driver put it on their vaunted and venerated Top10 list in 1983, 1984 and 1985. 

More so years ago than these days, automobile designe changed so quickly that by the end of the 1980's Pontiac's shining star didn't so much lose luster as it got passed over by newer and more progressive designs. Come 1989, the 6000 taking a backseat to Pontiac's new four-door Grand Prix and like a senior executive suddenly shoved to the back of the boardroom for a younger, debate-ably smarter and hipper junior, the 6000's days were obviously numbered. However, GM had a trick up it's tailpipe to keep the once award-winning little sedan relevant if not literally and figuratively ahead of the curve. 

Answering a question no one was asking, for 1989 the Pontiac 6000 STE unceremoniously became General Motor's first ever all-wheel-drive sedan. For 1990, the "hallowed" STE moniker, which denoted "Special Touring Edition" was moved to the Grand Prix but the all-wheel-drive 6000 option became available on the 6000 SE. Which brings us to our inexplicably well preserved subject here from the only year the SE, ALL WHEEL DRIVE was offered.

Using a modified version of GM's three-speed, Turbo-Hydramatic 125 C they dubbed "TH-125 C AWD", it had a planetary gear transfer case bolted to the end of the transversely mounted gearbox that sent forty-percent of the torque to the rear wheels. GM used a similar design in the Pontiac and Buick Rendezvous but with their four-speed, 4T65E trans-axle. There was a center console switch that could lock the drive-line in "low" thus splitting power evenly between the four-wheels. 

The rear differential was borrowed from the GMT400 pickup truck, that would be the then current Silverado by the way, and the transverse composite single-leaf spring came from the Grand Prix. To make room for all this stuff "back there", the 6000's trunk floor was so high that the "space-saver" spare had to be mounted on it rather than in a pocket to the side. All for a little more traction in a front-wheel-drive sedan that was being phased out anyway. Have to imagine that all the extra weight and additional reciprocating mass did fuel-economy little favors in addition to tapping down zero-to-sixty times. 

There was no AWD option on the 1991 6000, the last year Pontiac made the 6000 nor did the Grand Prix in either coupe or sedan guise ever get it either; makes you wonder why GM bothered in the first place with an AWD sedan. 

GM tapped production out for 1989 STE AWD's at just thirteen-hundred, two-thousand 1990 SE AWD's found homes making out '90 here fairly unicorn like.  

Chrysler TC by Maserati - Fuhgeddaboutit

Chrysler's 1987-1995 LeBaron struck a chord with "Boomers", I can use that term, you young whipper-snappers millennials can't, and the pretty good, fairly attractive little four-passenger cars were seemingly everywhere back then. That they were relatively inexpensive and were literally the only mass-market convertible available at the time also helped to drive their popularity too. This car, however, is not a LeBaron of that vintage although you'd get a hall pass if you thought it was. It's a Chrysler TC by Maserati and was without question one of the oddest automobiles to come out of the "Me First" decade. 

In a then contemporary sense, it's not that these were bad cars,  per se, it's just based on what they portended to be, like putting a Rolls Royce grill on an AMC Pacer, they were absurd. Borne of a relationship that Lee Iaccoca had with Alejandro DeTomaso, an Argentian race car driver who, with the help of the Italian government, bought Maserati out of bankruptcy in 1975, someone at Chrysler had the bright idea to partner with Maserati to build a luxury, two-passenger grand tourer ala GM's Cadillac Allante. Maybe it was Iaccoca himself who thought this up; who knows. There was nothing wrong with the idea or notion although it all went down hill from there. 

Alejandro DeTomaso's name might be familiar to you if you know of the DeTomaso Pantera, a rear-engine-ed, exotic sports car that started off powered by Ford engines and were sold in Lincoln-Mercury dealerships in the early to mid-1970's. 

On paper, Cadillac's Allante and the TC, TC denoted "turbo convertible", had much in common; American engineering with Italian design and a wonky, and expensive cross-Atlantic assembly process. However, whereas the Allante's Cadillac Eldorado bones were very well hidden under it's Pininfarina designed body and interior, something clearly got lost in translation with the TC because, sorry, pisan, this thing is all LeBaron. 

Except for the interior - that's all Maserati and it's the best part of the car. The rest of it, despite everything actually being unique to the TC, looks just like a LeBaron. The chassis was a shortened K-car frame they called the "Q-body" and the body panel stampings were unique although, again, you'd never know it since the car overall looked so much like a LeBaron. 

For the record, Chrysler used what they called the "J-body" on the LeBaron but that was a modified K-car chassis. Therefore, the thinking goes, like most Chrysler products of the day, this is a "K-car".  

It's engine was sort-of unique too since this version of Chrysler's venerable 2.2 liter turbo wasn't available on the LeBaron but rather the Dodge Daytona. What's more, allegedly Coswoth tuned the cylinder head and assembled the whole thing with Chrysler boasting a net horsepower output of one-hundred and sixty. Impressive in it's day; trust this "Boomer" on that one. 

Chrysler and Maserati built the TC from 1989 through 1991 and sold just over seven-thousand of them. Part of the problem, no doubt, was that Chrysler charged a good third more for a TC compared to a LeBaron and even at more than $37,000 each, due to exorbitant costs, Chrysler lost some $80,000 on each one sold. I know, how was that possible? That kind of adroit failure makes you wonder who in their right mind thought these would be a success in the first place. Same could be said for whomever green-lighted the Cadillac Allante but the Allante, on some weird, 1980's level, actually worked. These things? Not so much. 

Case in point about the weird-ass, '80's, who'd have thunk back then that you'd still be hearing The Human League's "Don't You Want Me, Baby" on supermarket overheads forty years later? 

Let's hypothesize how these cars came to be. Flush with cash from the success of the K-car and seething with jealousy over Cadillac's Allante, some executive wonk at Chrysler brought the idea of doing something similar to Iaccoca and he rubber-stamped it with a wink of his eye, a nod and a "I know a guy who can build these things". The logistics and design were rushed together and Maserati used an existing Chrysler design as more than a reference point; it was all but a template. I mean, how else to explain that of all design possibilities, Maserati designers came up with something that was for all intents and purposes the same design Chrysler was already using? 

Voila. The Chrysler TC by Maserati. In vacuum maybe these things work but as it was, fuhgeddaboutit. 

 

1969 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight - Bang. Zoom. To the Moon.

Like many people, I'm intrigued by the prospect of the quick and easy buck and if I can do so buying and "flipping" cars, old ones in particular like this 1969 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight, what could be better or more fun? 

This golden oldie popped up on Facebook Marketplace recently with an asking price of just $6,850. I whimsically say "just" since that kind of money is certainly nothing to sneeze at but seeing that based on NADA pricing guidelines, this car could be worth upwards of two, if not three -  if not four times that, $6,850 is a reasonable cost of doing business. And simply based on the condition of this car from the pictures I'd venture to guess it would be a pretty good bet I could make some money on it. Let's go! 

I couldn't get my debit card out quick enough as I bolted for the bank while contacting the poster of the ad. 

Alas...I didn't even get a cursory response back - much like Craigslist, common courtesy is many times all but non-existent on Facebook Marketplace what with many of the sellers and buyers having the personality of sea sick pit-bulls. The ad was pulled less than an hour after my inquiry telling me the car was either sold or whomever put it up posted the wrong asking price or realized they had under-priced it. In any event, it hasn't popped back up since. 

The Oldsmobile "Ninety-Eight" was the top of the line Oldsmobile model from 1940 through 1993. Part of Oldsmobile's number series that began in 1939, the "eight" in "Ninety-Eight" was meant to denote an eight-cylinder engine. 

The Oldsmobile "Ninety-Eight" used the same platform or chassis that Cadillac used and Buick used on their top-of-the-line models. The biggest difference between that platform, known as the "C-body" and the "lesser" B or A-body platforms was that it had a longer wheelbase which helped give the cars greater rear leg room. Say what you will about these cars but once you switch-bladed yourself into the back seat you had a very comfortable ride. Getting out was even worse, though. 

GM's rebooted their full size line for 1965 with all new chassis', body shells and bodies and are regarded by many as the finest post-war GM designs. For 1969, the C-body got a bump in wheelbase pushing it out to one-hundred twenty seven inches - wheelbase is the distance between the front and rear axles. Overall length was stretched out to just under two-hundred twenty-five inches making this car among-st the largest automobiles ever made.

All that extra-bulk for no other reason than for - you know, I honestly don't know. Seems to me that GM stopped putting actual engineering innovation into their makes and models in the mid to late 1960's and began relying on styling and gimmicks more than ever.  

Probably best this car was gone. I know I'd feel like Ralph Kramden of the Honeymooners explaining to my wife why I withdrew nearly seven-thousand dollars cash for a fifty-two year old, block long Oldsmobile with the idea of making a quick buck. Especially if I didn't clear it with her first and then got stuck with it; the only offers being ones for significantly less than what I paid for it. Bang, zoom. To the moon. 

The idea of getting stuck with this thing is no fun; these cars have a very narrow appeal that's only getting smaller each year. Gee whiz, even I don't see what the point of owning this car would be. I mean, I used to, I think, but even that's become a little foggy to me now. I have no nostalgic ties to Oldsmobiles like this and as I alluded to in my recent soliloquy about a 1983 Olds Ninety-Eight coupe, the older I've gotten the younger my taste in cars has become. Or simply I've become more appreciative of performance cars and the thrill of "real-driving" and less appreciative of cars that are nothing more than just interesting looking. 

Can't imagine anyone would buy this to use as a daily-driver; this big old Rocket and its single-digit gas mileage would put someone in the poor house. These cars were never meant to be anything more than rolling cocoons so their driving dynamics aren't exactly engaging either. Although, in my humblest of opinions, full-size GM makes and models of this era are better than anything Ford or Chrysler pushed out.  

As a piece of rolling sculpture these cars are interesting although of all of GM's myriad land yachts of yore, I've always been fairly ambivalent towards the big Oldsmobile's. Give me a Buick Electra any day of the week or a Cadillac. 

Which would make this the perfect foil for me to flip and make some money on. If only it was still available and the wife would be ok with it. 

 

1983 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight - Knock Some Sense Into Me

Back in what must have been 1987 I test drove an Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight coupe just like this '83 and thought seriously about buying it. Not sure why I didn't; perhaps fifty-something me got in touch with then twenty-something me and knocked some sense into me. 

It's funny how as I've gotten older my taste in cars has gotten younger. Well, it's either that or more, dare I say, sophisticated. When I was a kid I was a fan of the bigger is better idiom that drove the literal bulk of domestic automobile sales in this country right up until the first gas crisis started in October 1973. If it was big I liked it. Make that a big coupe like this thing. 

In the inter-meaning decades I've come to appreciate a vehicle's actual overall performance above and beyond its size, styling and ability to cocoon. If a car can't handle, brake and accelerate well, what's the point of it? Not that styling doesn't matter, most certainly does, but in the case of my wife and I searching endlessly for a Mini Cooper to replace our oafish 2006 Chevrolet Tahoe, what I like most about those little pocket rockets is their power and slot-car maneuverability. I'm actually ambivalent towards their styling which depending on the car, tends to be too cute.

Not that these cars weren't sophisticated but their mission in life didn't require them to be. You know, honestly, I'm being kind. Compared to today's over-engineered cars they were as complex as a Radio-Flyer wagon, but, again, with their sole purpose to isolate the driver and passenger from the road, they didn't need to be anything more than that. Unfortunately, the younger, monied buyers Oldsmobile really wanted and needed wouldn't be caught dead in these things as they opted for more, ahem, sophisticated fare, from BMW, Audi, Mercedes etc. 

Amazingly, and for the most part, this '83 Ninety-Eight has all but the same mechanical DNA with the first Ninety-Eight that debuted in 1940 and even older makes and models dating back to the turn of the century. That would be turn of the 19th to 20th century. Body-on-frame construction, engine mounted up front driving a rear wheel through a "live axle" sprung from the frame on leaf springs and tube shocks. A-arms with coils up front, recirculating ball steering. 

"98", or "Ninety-Eight", first appeared on an Oldsmobile in 1940 with the "8" allegedly denoting a 90-series Oldsmobile with an eight-cylinder engine; although, there was never a six-cylinder 90-series. The "series" nomenclature replacing the very simple Oldsmobile "Six" and "Eight" models. If you're a fan of "A Christmas Story", the old man was an "Oldsmobile Man" and his stead was a 1937 Oldsmobile Six. 

This Ninety-Eight is for sale near my home in Cleveland, Ohio by the same guy who's got that quasi-resto-modded clone of a 1978 Cutlass for sale; that car is in the left garage bay. He's asking similar money for this one too making him either a goggle-eyed Oldsmobile fan or he's got way to much money wrapped up in both of these cars and he's trying to recoup his spending. Good luck with that, amigo. 

He's asking $13,500 for this and that might be more of an absurdity than the $17,000 he's asking for that Cutlass. He claims this is a "fresh 403" just like he does for the engine in the Cutlass although any cues I could muster that this is a 403 is lost on me; this looks like the soggy Oldsmobile 307 cubic-inch till it was born with. The 307 was a smooth and long lasting little motor but in terms of offering contemporary performance, you'd best look elsewhere. Even the high performance version of this engine found in 1983 and 1984 Hurst\Olds and 1985-1987 4-4-2's wasn't exactly a ribald powerhouse. 

Power bench seat with individual seat backs. Wow. That's so Oldsmobile back then. If the driver needed to be up close and top of the steering wheel that also meant the front seat passenger had to have their fact squashed up against the dash and windshield. Might as well sit in the back which was appreciably gigantic. 

Oh, this thing is not with out its merits. It appears to be clean remarkably clean as a whistle and those huge wheels, while ugly as sin, no doubt stiffen up its suspension and improve handling. However, I'll pass on this road trip down memory lane. Especially at that asking price. Not quite sure what price would have me drafting a cashier's check for it but it certainly wouldn't have five digits in it. 

 

2008 Chrysler Crossfire - Smooth Jazz

I found this 2008 Chrysler Crossfire for sale recently on one of my "cheap-car", under $10,000 deep dives. Funny how these searches sometimes come up with not only unique old cars but open the flood gates of memories for me. 

It was the summer of 2003 when what was known at the time as Daimler - Chrysler introduced these cars, the first and only two-passenger Chrysler branded automobiles. I was programming a smooth jazz radio station in New York City and an advertising agency wanted our on-air hosts to drive them and talk about them on the air. 

"Smooth Jazz", was an instrumental based radio format and not a "type" of music per se and like two-door cars in general and two-passenger cars in particular, had a very limited actual appeal although many people claimed to like it. Or at least thought they liked the illusion of what it was; a Sunday Brunch sound track they could listen to whenever they wanted. In reality, the only time it got decent ratings was when it was heavily marketed and "coupon-ed" with cash contesting. Left to it's own devices and not incentivized it withered. 

The caviar and champagne life group, that many think was the smooth jazz consumer, was what the ad agency was going after. In reality, though, one's taste in music is about as much a harbinger of class and sophistication as is the brand of tooth paste you use. We had as many truck driver's and carpenters as listeners as we did Sachs Fifth Avenue shoppers. However, perception, as they say, is reality. Chrysler was paying a New York City ad agency handsomely to market their new two-passenger sleds and placing ads on our little outlet of snobby music was what they came up with. We took the money and ran all the way to the bank. 

Logistically, the biggest problem with the campaign was that all of our on air hosts lived in the city and rarely drove let alone owned a car. My not being a denizen of the city and instead a bourgeois commuter and problem solving manager I portend to be, I offered to drive the cars and take copious notes the hosts could use for their on air chit-chat. I know, I know. Amazing the things I do for my staff and the ad revenue of my radio stations but (he sighs) such the hardships I endure. 

So, what was a Chrysler Crossfire anyway? Well, they were one of the brighter, ahem, stars that came of Chrysler's abortive marriage to Daimler A.G. At least, subjectively, stylistically. We can argue all day that that the 2008 Dodge Challenger or 2005 vintage Chrysler 300 and Dodge Charger were equally bright but those cars were more like step-children whereas the Crossfire was what the odd merger of the two automobile monoliths was supposed to be; Mercedes-Benz product dressed down in Chrysler clothing. 

Unlike the 300 and Charger which used a Chrysler platform with Mercedes-Benz baubles and bits like suspensions, a transmission and differential, underneath, the Crossfire was in fact a Mercedes-Benz; albeit a then current Mercedes-Benz SLK that was going into the dumpster. In then end, it seemed, the use of an obsolete Benz to underpin these cars along with Mercedes' hesitancy to use their then current E-series to build the 300 and Charger off of encapsulated all the issues the relationship had from the get go. Mercedes-Benz was ok with the partnership but didn't want to share anything more than letterhead. if that. 

Still, even back then, an old Mercedes was better than most anything offered domestically. And from a business perspective, it's hard to argue with the idea of squeezing a couple more Euro's out of one. Only thing is, what you have here, in reality, was a $30,000+, two-passenger Chrysler and not a Mercedes. Back in 2004 that was still some big or kind of big money and for similar Deutsche Marks, well, maybe a little more, buyers who had money or wanted to look like they had money, had a gaggle of similarly themed automobiles to choose from. Including Mercedes-Benz makes and models.  

What did my notes say about these cars? Well, knowing that ninety-nine percent of people could care less about the details us car wonks are into, I kept it simple and gushed over the styling, feeling of bank vault like solidity and the smooth, sophisticated ride. I didn't go into any great detail about how sluggish the old-school recirculating ball steering was or that I found them under-powered. Also, thanks to the swoopy rear end styling, visibility was atrocious; changing lanes in Manhattan and Long Island traffic, which is epic if you're not familiar with it, was akin to steering with your eyes closed. This, of course, back in the day long before back-up and blind side cameras. 

I also felt but didn't tell the hosts that these cars were really kind of boring. So much so that I honestly found them no  more interesting to drive than my oh-so-humble 1997 Chevrolet Monte Carlo LS I was driving at the time. Damned by faint praise? Well, I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Chrysler sold just over seventy-five thousand Crossfire's between model years 2004 and 2008; certainly not a total disaster but compared to what they thought they'd sell it was a disappointing drop in the bucket. Chrysler pulled the plug on the Crossfire in December 2007. 

Just as, ironically, many smooth jazz radio stations began changing format to something else. Coincidence?