1968 Chevrolet Impala - Shut Up and Take My Money

A family on the block I grew up on back on Long Island had a gold one of these 1968 Impala Sport Coupes. I thought its oh-so-bulky, form-over-function, over-the-top styling cool as all hell. Especially compared to the rental-grade Ford station wagon my father had. Of all the now "classic" cars I literally grew up with, that big old gold Chevy was the one I probably ogled the most. 

Poster of this ad is apparently confused or mistaken as to what they're attempting sell. Not that it really matters but if god's in the details, this is an Impala Sports Coupe, not a Custom Coupe "Fastback". It's as if they're threatening perspective buyers too. "Buy now! Or else!" Please! Take my money!

I love on these Sport Coupes how the trunk lid and rear fenders flow into the bumper. And who doesn't love taillights in the bumper.  Pointless, fabulous and highly impractical. Does it get any better? Impala Custom Coupes of this vintage were the semi-formal, notch back coupes.

Chevrolet offered these cars in various models that were essentially trim packages. If you wanted all the fluffy glitz of a Cadillac at a discount, you could order a Caprice. If an Impala was too rich for you, order down and pick up a Bel Air. For real bargain hunters, there was the Biscayne. The Bel Air coupe was available in hardtop or pillard'd, Biscayne two-door models came only as "pillar'd" coupes. Yuck. However, the fastback styling was only available on the Impala.  It's definitely a look that not for everyone. Ford tried this as well in the mid-to-late-sixties with a varying degree of success or failure depending on your point of view. Most know how clumsy 1966 and 1967 Dodge Chargers are. 

Poster of the ad claims the seats are new. But not only are the front seats a different color from the rear...

The upholstery pattern is different too. Saving grace, at least the seats are period correct. Judging from what I can make out from that rear inside panel and what can be made out of the steering wheel in the photo above this one, seems this car came with the light green interior originally. Someone's got some 'splainin' to do. 

Poster claims this is the car's original Chevrolet 327 cubic inch V-8 but what's with the headers? Original Powerglide comes with the package as well. This is a fifty-five-year-old car - who knows how many owners it's had and how many shade tree hacks (like me) have their greasy, grimy fingerprints all over it. 

Lots to unpack here. That person's not going to me, of course. Well, if I could get this for like $2,500, maybe. More like closer to a $1,000. Even at $500 the wife would kill me. I know getting this for as little money as I would deem worthy is unreasonable but considering this needs perhaps $25,000 to make it presentable, I don't want to the starting point to put me in the red either. Bombers like this when I was in high school in the early '80's were $500 cars; when and how did they appreciate to the point where one now as an asking price of $11,500? 

And then what would you have if you bought this for eleven or twelve grand and then plowed twenty-five into it? A 1968 Impala Sports Coupe that might be worth, if you're lucky and this crazy Post-Covid-ish used car market stays as hot as it is, what you put into it. 

If you're into flipping cars, that's just a good, old fashioned waste of time.  Something tells me someone bought this to flip and came to the conclusion that it's just not worth it. In more ways than one. At least it appears fairly rust free. 

Shut up and take my money! 

 

1976 Plymouth Duster - Please Don't Call This a Classic

Plymouth Dusters are many things to many people, especially folks of my, ahem, vintage, but one thing they're not is "classic" as the poster of the ad for this bone stock, beat to death, rental grade '76 is.  They go on, "it's the perfect starting point for a project". I agree that these lightweight rear wheel drivers can be adroit performers when equipped properly but "classic?" Check, please. 

I don't think they're worthy of the "classic" moniker because their styling isn't up to the standards of other MOPAR "classics" like the 1968-1970 Dodge Charger, 1970-1974 Dodge Challenger and one of my favorite automobiles of all time, the 1970-1974 Plymouth Barracuda. Shoot, they're not even a 1975-1977 Cordoba. The problem is this rear end. It's too heavy, too thick - it looks incomplete as if the designer or design team just stopped. And the five-mile-per-hour safety bumpers don't do it any favors either. Overall, Dusters pale in comparison, in my most humble of opines, to the Duster's spiritual forebear, the 1967-1969 Barracuda. 

I say "spiritual forebear" since although the Barracuda rode on a new and proprietary chassis for 1970, what they called the E-body, the old A-body which the previous two iterations of the Barracuda rode on, stuck around. Albeit with a redesigned body and interior. And the Duster, also new for 1970, which really was just a fancied two-door Valiant, was a huge hit for Plymouth. The two-door Valiant, incidentally, was called "Scamp". 

So, in many ways, since the Duster was little more than a dressed up Valiant like the Barracuda was going back to 1964, one could argue, the Duster was a continuation of the Barracuda. Just with a different name. So, if this car was named "Barracuda", would it have been the sales success it was as "Duster"?  Bit of a mind-bender to get your head around but I think it's an honest and interesting question. 

Whether it was their styling, price, marketing, unique market position, a more pleasant, less aggressive name or a combination of all of the above, the Plymouth Duster and their Dodge Brothers clones were one of the few bright spots for Chrysler during the seventies. Dusters were everywhere when I was a kid and, frankly, Barracuda's and Challengers were few and far between. A 1974 Duster also came fairly close to being my first car in the spring of 1982. So, I guess I liked them enough or didn't dislike them enough not to consider one as my hallowed "first car". Ha, as if I don't already have enough in common with Al Bundy. 

Of course, I thought I could do better, and continued shopping and I put that brownie, that looked just like Al's, on the back burner. When I quickly found out my thousand dollars saved up from a summer flame broiling Whoppers at Burger King wasn't enough to buy the Camaro, Mustang, Monte Carlo or Grand Prix of my dreams, I went back to get the Duster and it was gone. Just as well as, again, I've always been ambivalent towards them. However, a Duster would probably have been a way better first car for me than my dreadful Comet four-door was. 

The E-body Barracuda was Plymouth's third and final swing up at the pony car plate. And, somewhat amazingly too, it tanked as badly as the first two did. While the Duster was the right car at the right time for Chrysler, the Barracuda (and Dodge Challenger) were the wrong car at the wrong time. Thanks to insurance company surcharges on anything remotely construed as a performance car, the pony car market began to implode in 1970. So, Chrysler's timing couldn't have been worse to introduce a car that stuffed with a big-block engine, could do the quarter mile in under fourteen seconds. Sorry to disappoint conspiracy theorists, but it wasn't the OPEC Oil Embargo that killed the muscle and pony car - it was the insurance industry. 

There were performance versions of the Duster and the Duster 340 (1970-1973) and Duster 360 (1974) could certainly hold their own against Camaro, Firebird and Mustang (through 1973), but the Duster's primary mission was to be affordable, economical, and sort of sporty looking. And GM and Ford offered nothing quite like it. Chrysler found a lane, accidentally, on purpose or otherwise, and drove these suckers through it. Case in point, Plymouth sold more Dusters in 1970 alone they did all previous model years of Barracudas. Combined. 

I'll tip my snap back at the fact the Plymouth Duster helped keep cash-hemorrhaging Chrysler somewhat buoyant in those early darks of the Malaise Era. Just don't call them a "classic". 

 

1987 Winnebago Elandan - Believeland

My wife and I are originally from Long Island, New York so I think that's why stuff like this Cleveland Browns dressed up 1987 Winnebago "Elandin" makes us so slack jawed. 

With the exception of my once seeing an old Rolls Royce painted up in Yankees pinstripes, and allegedly signed by then current and old time Yankees players, I never saw anything like this back there. Up here, this is hardly the only RV that's gussied up like this. Shoot, I've seen sedans and crossovers in Browns colors too. Old school buses as well. "Woof-woof", as the natives say here. 

"Many a fun football Sunday had in this tailgating machine!" the poster of the Facebook Marketplace ad claims. Ad goes onto say that the current owner is moving out of state, and they can't take this with them. Asking price is $6,500. Such a deal, no? Especially considering it's got six new tires, new brakes, new batteries, a new solar charger, has new flooring, walls, new-ish furniture and a new ceiling. 

The roof leaks a little but that aside, and whether or not you're a Browns die hard, this seems pretty solid. Only 78,000 miles on its fuel-injected Chevrolet 454 cubic inch V-8 too. Heck, I'd buy this and swap engines with my '77 Corvette. And keep in mind how much a new one of these'll set you back. 

Here in "Believeland", an expression coined in 2014 just after the return of LeBron James, Cleveland's prodigal son who's actually from Akron, tailgating is somewhat different than most NFL cities. The Browns play in a gusty concrete tomb known as "First Energy Stadium" which is literally on the shore of Lake Erie and there's little parking around it. General parking for events at the stadium is upwards of two-miles away in what is referred to as "The Muni-Lots" (named after Cleveland Municipal Stadium that once stood where First Energy Stadium now sits). I don't know about you but getting tanked or at least half tanked and then walking two miles isn't my cup of Mountain Dew. Your opinion may vary. See dealer for details. 

Many tailgaters don't even go to the game staying back in the Muni's in one of these and watching the game on TV. Can be fun once a season before the cold weather hits which can be before Halloween some years. Especially since somewhat affordable seats for any NFL game are so far away from the action you might as well stay in the camper. Or watch the game from home. 

The Winnebago company was founded in 1960 in Forrest City, Iowa, deep in the heart of Winnebago County. An entrepreneurial funeral home director named John Hanson, who was an avid camper, started out selling travel-trailers later convincing an established RV manufacturer to relocate to Iowa. He and other business leaders bought out that company changing the name to "Winnebago", a Native American term for, "people of the dirty water".  The first "Winnebago" as we now know it rolled off the assembly line in 1966. The rest, as we say, is history. Over the last fifty-six or so years, the term "Winnebago" has become as synonymous with RV'ing as Xerox is to copiers and Band-Aids is to small adhesive medical bandages. 

It is one of the more charming aspects of this area that folks up here love their "Brownies" as much as they do. Although, candidly, their recent acquisition of DeShaun Watson has not gone over well and there's no way to gloss over it. I almost feel bad for these people since, at least on the field, the Browns now have one of the better teams in the NFL. To that degree I'm (Jets) green with envy. Talk about selling your soul to the devil. Fans here deserve better. Film at eleven. 

I've never camped let alone spent a night in an RV although, I must admit, the prospect is somewhat intriguing to me. The wife has absolutely no interest in it so if I was to purchase this it would be strictly for tailgating. My New York Jets are in town in September for the Browns' home-opener. Anybody interested in helping me paint this thing? 

1994 Lincoln Continental Mark VIII - Super Duper

I can't believe I've been doing this blog for as long as I have an I've never done one on the Ford Motor Company's late, great, ok, kind of great looking, personal luxury car, the Lincoln Continental Mark VIII. That oversight or automotive injustice gets resolved today as I dive into the sagging, inch deep end of the air suspension pool and do a soliloquy on them. Our lovely subject is a '94 for sale in Canton, Ohio. Might be twenty-eight years old but she's got only 64,000 or so miles on her digital ticker. Asking price, is, I wish it were three grand less, $8,995. 

A while back I did a semi-deep dive on the history of the Lincoln "Mark", and you can read that here. Today's blog will focus exclusively on the Mark Eight's. 

For simplicity and clarity's sake, if we define the personal luxury car as a uniquely American idiom, there were a number of luscious two-door luxury coupes out of Germany years ago, there were two succinctly different strata of them back in the day, as they say. You had your every man and woman Chevrolet Monte Carlo, Pontiac Grand Prix, Ford Thunderbird and the like and then there were the super-duper "PSL's". Cars like our Lincoln Continental Mark VIII here along with the Cadillac Eldorado and Lexus SC 300\400 (although a Japanese make and model, it was designed in the United States). Think of those cars like you would brand-new Tesla's today. So expensive they were out of the reach of proletariat slobs. You know. Folks like you and me. 

If I thought the styling on the Mark VII bold, progressive and teetering on "aggressive", imagine what I thought of these things. First time I saw one I thought it looked like a cross between a Star Trek (TV show) and Goodfellas set piece. But it somehow works even if it appears at certain angles it's going to go completely wrong. Remarkably, despite this (ridiculous) vestigial spare-tire trunk hump that Ford (Lincoln) attempted to pass off as a spoiler, (isn't that hysterical?), and gigantic overhangs, it never does. At least through my foggy goggles. Then again, I'm a fan of this sliver of vehicle niche. 

If the outside has a screaming '90's vibe, the interior is even worse. Or better based on your point of view or opinion. Back in the day this was state-of-the-art stuff and made the insides of a Cadillac Eldorado and Lexus SC appear staid, stuffy and dated. Today, check out the cabins on an Eldorado or SC of this vintage and they look refreshingly "classic". This get-up looks kitschy if not all out gimmicky by comparison. At least by 1994 Ford had the good sense to not "do digital" on the speed-o-meter and tach. Allegedly, the leather thrones on our '94 here have been reconditioned. They sure look comfy. That's real wood too. Wafer thin wood but it's the real deal.  

Introduced for model year 1994, the Mark VIII was built off a chassis Ford internally code-named, "FN-10", which was a modified version of the "MN-12" chassis that underpinned the 1989 Ford Thunderbird and Mercury Cougar. Let's give the Ford Motor Company the benefit of the doubt they had a good reason why it took them five years after the launch of the MN-12 Thunderbird and Cougar to whip up the Mark VIII. I recall there being one but after thirty years, or so, I've forgotten what it is. Not like the Fox-body based Mark VII was selling that well.

So, why aren't I at least test driving this blue beauty? Well, first off, at just over an hour away, given a good thirty minutes to crawl all over it before I drive it, I'm past the point in my life where I'll drive a fairly significant distance to just "kick tires" on something I find interesting. And I do find this interesting if for no other reason it's still so "out-there" styling wise. I do wish it were closer and like I said less expensive. NADA guidelines peg this around $4,850 but this is a "post-Pandemic", used car market. Everything is overpriced. Even stuff that most classic car aficionados would steer far and away from. Part of me likes this. I mean, likes this a lot. Maybe if I'm within shouting distance of Canton I'll inquire about it but, again, it's really overpriced. 

While not nearly as bad as the Cadillac Eldorado I drove last weekend, there's a lot of "stuff" to break on these cars and I'm afraid it would just go "poof" in my garage. Namely, the "computer managed fully independent air suspension", and speed-sensitive, variable assist power steering. There are coil-over kits available that are quite reasonable at around $600 or so out of the box. Unless you're dealing with a neighborhood garage, good luck finding a franchised shop that will install "customer bought parts". With that in mind, the swap to coils might run you the dark side of two-grand. Throw your back out. Be a man and do it yourself.

These don't drive especially "special" either. At least not as well to justify their original near $50,000 sticker price. If anything, they're the best execution of the original concept of whatever a personal luxury car was supposed to be and are as much of a throwback to yesteryear as the silly trunk hump. In my experience with "Eights", the steering is over boosted, numb if not dead on-center and there's very little road-feel. Sporty this car is not. This physically big "InTech" V-8 is smooth and responsive but with this much engine, you'd think it should be faster. And it burns premium too. Ouch. At least the "In Tech" has a better reputation than Cadillac's "Northstar". 

The air suspension is cushy but combined with the blasé handling, these are pretty mundane cars. Just like that Eldorado last weekend. And for the record, it's not like driving my wife's (beloved) '95 Lexus SC400 rocks my world either. Our Lexus, however, does soothe and cajole my wife (and I) with a smooth, reassuring, refined manner. It's bullet proof build quality makes us feel like brainiac rock stars for buying it too. It's got a couple of electrical gremlins here and there but aside from that, that car is a rolling bank vault of dependability. We've had it three years and we've put almost thirty thousand miles on it, and it's never given us a single hiccup. 

All this makes me wonder what the point of these super-PSL's was in the first place. Thier inflated sticker prices solidified their exclusivity but at the end of the day, their blasé road manners make me think "automotive Ron Burgandy" more than anything else. Personally, I get what these cars are about but it's hard to explain their appeal. Especially to a generation that wasn't even born yet. As if that matters but I hope you get my gist. You either "get" these cars or you don't. You ain't gotta do no explaining when it comes to why you're driving a $70,000 luxury cross-over. Except maybe how you can afford such a thing on such a modest income. Don't your kids need to eat? 

Ford (Lincoln) sold these through 1998 doing a fairly major update for 1997. I prefer the 1994-1996 models. Your opinion may vary. See dealer for details. Cadillac soldiered on with their Eldorado through 2002. Lexus got out of the PSL business, well, the first time, after 2010. 

2000 Cadillac Eldorado ETC - Somebody Else's Problem

This 2000 Cadillac Eldorado ETC (Eldorado Touring Coupe) came up in my latest "cheap car search" this past weekend. With 90,000 miles on its twenty-two-year-old digital odometer and with an asking price of just $6,995, on paper at least, this is the car of my dreams. Knowing how an innocent enough find can turn into something, for better or for worse, I made the forty-minute drive to see and test drive it. I did more than kick its tires too. I didn't abuse the car, per se, that would be, ahem, childish, but I did feel like 17-year-old me again standing on a powerful car for the first time. Gosh, do kids beat on their parent's cars anymore? 

Long and short, I wasn't so much disappointed with this car as I found it underwhelming. And it wasn't like the fact the air conditioner compressor was seized up, the power antenna wouldn't go up and the passenger side window wouldn't go down from the driver's door switch had anything to do with my ambivalence towards it either. Nope. While it was a whole lot more put together and sorted out than the Eldorado ESC I drove about a year ago, what a bomb that thing was, I found it "just ok". The ride was rather squishy, the brakes felt vague, steering had minimal feel when I leaned into it on highway on and off ramps too. The car felt enormous and not in a good way; I used to love big cars, what's gotten into me? Even when I tried to put the gas pedal through the firewall, the experience of spooling up the 300-hp Northstar V-8 wasn't as visceral as I thought it would be. This boat weighing in on the dark side of two tons no doubt had a lot to do with that but has speed and power become such a commodity that I'm not impressed by it anymore? 

Maybe the "Magnasteer" Speed Sensitive Steering, Continuously Variable Road Sensing Suspension, Stabiltrack Chassis Control and Electronic Level Control had all seen better days. All that stuff helping to jack up the original MSRP to more than $46,000. Holy smokes. Much like on any car portending to be a high-end luxury car, all that gear is scary expensive to repair. Frankly, I don't think they make for an altogether "better car" or one that's reliable and durable either. I've never seen a Cadillac of this vintage with the kind of miles my 2002 Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet Monte Carlo has on it: 253,000 and counting.  Seriously, have you? Could it be because stuff like "Stabiltrack" and what not cost too damn much to repair? The owner of the lot where this was said he had about $3,000 into it already and was just trying to recoup some of what he spent. I think it's going to need at least that much more to really get it right. 

Despite it being really soft, the ride was pleasant, though and I wouldn't mind it on my insanely long commute to and from the office. Cross country drives as well. The seats were like thrones and the leather was luscious. I loved the color combination too even if it felt a little too "old man-ish" for me. 

Unlike most people, I can talk myself out of just about anything. And to jump out of my matronly but beloved 2002 Dale Earnhardt Chevrolet Monte Carlo and into this simply because I could, didn't seem to me like the best use of my time and dollars. Had this sucked my bifocals off perhaps I'd think differently. Besides, I like the way my Dale rides and handles better. I really do. It might want for another fifty to a hundred more horsepower but aside from that, it's a comfy old shoe that gives me just enough steering wheel feedback to keep things somewhat entertaining. 

I'm glad I spent the afternoon with this handsome oldie, though. I got it out of my system, and I'll never be plagued with the dreaded "what if's" or "woulda-shoulda's". If this is about as good as these are these days, best I stick to what I know and keep the Dale around. And when the head gasket finally blows on this big aluminum lump, it'll be someone else's problem. 

This vintage of Eldorado was the last go-round for Cadillac's "personal luxury car" that was first introduced in 1953 as a show car to celebrate Cadillac's fiftieth anniversary. Introduced in 1992, it was based on the E-body chassis that Cadillac rolled out to disastrous results in 1986. Eleven inches longer than the model it replaced, Cadillac welding on three inches to the stubby '86 models in 1989 too, Cadillac made incremental changes to it through 2002. By then, the personal luxury car market had all but dried up. The last vestige of one meeting the grim reaper after model year 2007. That being, ironically enough, the Chevrolet Monte Carlo. 

 

1975 Chevrolet Monte Carlo - Isn't it Wonderful?

I thought I had said everything I had to say about 1973-1977 Chevrolet Monte Carlo's. Well, never say never. Besides, this one is an especially nice 1975 (round headlights!) in one of my favorite color schemes so how could I not say at least something about it. 

No crazy "swivel buckets" or floor mounted transmission shifter though and those factory, Monte Carlo specific wheel covers are hideous. Crank windows, manual locks. This sucker is a rental grade, bone stripper. It's only got 42,000 miles on it and I believe it. Priced semi-reasonably too at $12,995. Not that I'd pay that for this but perhaps you would and it's nice to know it's priced about right given its solid (looking) condition. Add a good two-grand for a fresh set of Rally style rims and bigger ties with raised white letters, that, in my opinion, are a must. 

Leave this "350 2BBL" engine making all of 145-horsepower as is. This was never meant to be a muscle car. So, for fifteen-grand you've got what appears to be a rust-free driver. In this (post?) Covid environment, this is a pretty good deal. 

Since I grew up with these things, it's hard for me to tell how they've actually aged. My twenty-five-year-old son sees a "cool old car". I see one and I'm ten to twenty years old again. I do, however, remember my opinion of them evolving from all out disdain to white hot adulation. 

My problem with them was the styling. Too much of it to be exact. Whereas for 1973, the Pontiac Grand Prix, the Monte Carlo's cousin, was more of an evolution of the previous model, same for the Oldsmobile Cutlass, the 1973 Monte Carlo took the "neo-classical" designs cues of the 1970-1972 models and morphed it into a concept car from either heaven or hell. I must admit, in retrospect, it is one of the cleverer designs of the era. Regardless of whether you understand or "get" what it is it's trying to be. 

I much preferred the very mechanically similar and far more conservatively styled two-door Malibu to Monte Carlo's. Car and Driver described Monte Carlo's as a "Chevelle in a dinner jacket" and marveled at how and why folks would pony up the stipend for them above a Chevelle. Again, I agreed at first but much like how I now adore Brussel Sprouts and disco music these days, stuff I thought vile when I was young, tastes evolve and change. With regards to 1973-1977 Monte Carlo's, I arm wrestle with myself over whether or not that's a good thing. 

In many ways, these cars were the last foray of form over substance. Despite the blasted five-mile-per-hour "safety bumpers", there's so much frivolity in the design here that it borders on silly. Isn't it wonderful? My man Bill Mitchell, who ran GM design from the late '50's through 1977, wasn't immune from the overtop styling atrocities of the day. Think of these cars as the bell bottoms, leisure suits and avocado green refrigerators of 1970's automobilia. 

And then, poof. 1978 came and that was the end of that. Well, the beginning of the end. The shrink-rayed 1978 Monte Carlo sold well at first. The almost as ugly Pontiac Grand Prix sold well too.  However, buyers soon realized those downsized personal luxury cars where a far cry from what they were, and sales imploded. Disco was dead and video killed the radio star.