1968 Ford Galaxie 500 Convertible - Not My Father's Ford Ranch Wagon

Up until I was around eight years old, my father worked as an executive in the Manhattan office of Burlington Industries, a fabric making company based in Greensboro, North Carolina. At least once a month, often times more, he would travel down there for meetings. He'd be gone early Monday and not return until Friday evenings, sometimes Saturday mornings. Sad thing is, I can't say I actually missed him, we were not close, but when he was away, there was relative peace in my house because my parents wouldn't be at each other's throats. That and his homecomings usually meant dinners of Coke and pizza. Also, he'd bring the pizza home in what he referred to as "company cars" which I came to learn were more like "company paid for rental cars". One time he came home in a car that sort of resembled his 1968 Ford Ranch Wagon but it, for certain, was not my father's Ranch Wagon; it was 1968 Ford Galaxie coupe like this red convertible Galaxie 500. 

I was not a fan of the Ranch Wagon. Story goes that when my father's wretched '61 Rambler cracked its engine block, he replaced it with a blue, 1968 Ford Ranch Wagon from Hertz Used Car Sales. Figures since he spent so much time at the Hertz counter at JFK and LaGuardia that he'd pick up a used rental. His car was light blue like the Ranch Wagon in the foreground in this photo from a 1968 Ford brochure is. It didn't have a roof rack, nor did it have side chrome moldings. Ford "dog-dish" or "poverty" hubcaps finished off the sorry, spartan, no-frills "Grapes of Wrath" motif.  At first, I thought it just another "company car" until he started putting the damn thing in the garage.

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Meanwhile, across the narrow street from us, neighbors with kids around my age had a 1968 Ford Country Squire like the one pictured above from another brochure. Power-everything and facing rear jump seats. Jump seats - the dream of every kid born between say 1960 and 1975. That Country Squire made my father's Ranch Wagon have all the industrial charm of a school bus.  

So, when I saw that Galaxie, I was smitten. Although the car had nothing in common with my father's Ranch Wagon from the A-pillar back, I thought it the most fascinating car in the world. Mind you, it was a hard top coupe; I may have burst into flames seeing a hedonistic convertible like our redhead here. Although, coming to know the man who was my father, playing catch with Joe Namath in my backyard was more of a possibility than us ever owning such a car. 

In hindsight, I've come to the realization that my father's Ranch Wagon was the embodiment of the man, we are what we drive, after all. Or whom we wished to be seen as. More Willie Loman than the swaggering, confident John Wayne meets Frank Sinatra I wished he was, my father was a simplistic, blue-collar guy caught in the crossfire of the executive mumbo-jumbo and posturing of "Mad Men" era New York City. That show pegged those guys dead on; my father told a tale or ten of the consequences of liquid lunches. And the car he chose to replace his hoary Rambler with was a carpenter\plumber\electrician's special rather than an executive express like Don Draper's Cadillac. Pick a lane, old man. And stay there. He just didn't get that. 

Sadly, my father lacked the intrinsic mechanical aptitude, skill and work ethic of his immigrant father making him a wannabee in two very different universes and not particularly good in either. He changed jobs frequently. Throw in a most difficult homelife and his self-medication to deal with his miserable life and you might be able to at least start to appreciate my taking solace in the small things like his not being around, Coke and pizza and of course, cars. My father and I were like two orbs occupying the same space barely acknowledging each other. Not unlike the way my dog and car interact with each other. A benign, listless and at the end of the day harmless coexistence.  I didn't ask for anything more than he could provide. Which wasn't much. 

For model year 1968, Ford offered twenty-one variations of their quite good, new-for-1965 full size car.  And who knows why too although GM did the same thing. Chrysler to a somewhat lesser degree. Did they really need two different types of two- and four-door models? Two different Country Squires as well if the only difference between the two is one has the, literally, killer rear jump seats and the other doesn't. Oh, look. You could also get the jumpers in the Ranch Wagon. 

It's been said that one of the reasons for the shoddy build quality of domestics back then was because there were too many different ways an automobile could be configured. Our Galaxie 500 drop-top here is near the top of the second row. Not too near the top and certainly a long, long ways from the bottom of the lineup. 

For my money, I'd opt for this car back then rather than splurge for an XL convertible. Especially stuffed with Ford's "FE" (Ford-Edsel), 390 "4V" (four-venturi, sounds better than nozzle) "Thunderbird" V-8 engine. Despite single digit city fuel economy. Can't be that much better on the highway. The front end on these cars is cleaner and simpler and isn't bogged down with the fussy headlight doors of the XL convertible too. Not quite sure the Ford mags were available on these cars and the raised white letter tires for certain were not. But they look marvelous with the rims on this car. Why spend more than you have to? 

I found this memory machine on Facebook Marketplace for sale near my home in Cleveland, Ohio with a price reduced ask of $12,500. It's a North Carolina car which means it's going to be pretty free from rust, which is so important on an older car, especially really old cars. NADA pegs this average retail at $18,100, high retail at $29,400 so the seller might be looking to onload this rather than store it for the winter. Finding relative bargains like this another reason I love car shopping this time of year up here. No, I'm not going to go for it, but it is nice to think about. You get this closer to ten-grand and I'll writhe with jealousy.

As for my father's Ranch Wagon, he traded it in during the summer of 1977 on a 1970 Buick Electra 225 four-door hard-top I steered him towards after my mother decided it was time to get rid of the wagon. All of thirteen at the time, I had no idea how pretentious it may have seemed going from the Ranch Wagon to the Electra, but I didn't know better. Not that I cared, I just loved that car. And after my father was left to his own devices after the Rambler croaked, I wasn't going to take any chances. 

 

1993 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme SL - Bargain of a Lifetime

I have a soft spot for "GM10" or "W-body" coupes; I've had five of them going back to 1989 and loved them all. In fact, a 2002 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS is my current daily driver. Sedan versions started trickling in come 1989 and they look exactly like what they are; the two-door versions of these cars with a rear doors tacked on. Not surprisingly, I want nothing to do with them. 

So, when this 1993 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme SL popped up on Facebook Marketplace the other day, with "only" 140,000 miles on its analog ticker, $2,250 asking price and it being close to my home, I was like, "what the heck. Let's give it a go". 

And a "go" I did. While I didn't buy this, it didn't have enough "this is too good a deal to pass up" in it, I felt I could do a whole lot worse for $2,250. What's more, I wish I had found it a couple of years ago instead of spending more than a thousand more for that dreadful 2003 Chevrolet Malibu I bought for my younger son. I recently sold that car for $2,500. 

This was far from perfect. The body looks better in photos that it does in person. There are rust patches here and there, scratches too. Good shine, though and the interior didn't smell of cigarettes nor that weird, oh-so-GM, aroma, "old man\wet dog." 

No power seats, just fore and aft rake and the crazy tilting adjustment that rocks the driver's seat on a hinge at the rear base. Seats were bolstered nicely, much better than the seats in my 1990 Lumina Euro I had. 

Driver's side remote mirror switch was gone, driver's door hinge wouldn't keep the door open, front speakers on the radio didn't work, air conditioning didn't work either.  Struts felt squishy when I pushed down on the corners of the car too. There was a knocking sound in the right rear during my test drive, strut rod links, maybe? Body felt solid aside from that. All in, not bad for a 29-year-old Oldsmobile. 

For 1993, all Oldsmobile Cutlass' were Cutlass "Supremes", and they were not to be confused with an entirely different Cutlass, the Cutlass Ciera. My Facebook find here is the base model coupe, an "International Series" coupe came with a handling suspension, larger wheels and tires, and a double-overhead-cam, four-valve per cylinder, 3.4-liter V-6. Having had that engine in a 1994 Chevrolet Lumina Z34, frankly, I'd rather have this little mill making all of 135-horsepower. It's a simpler engine that's way more responsive off the line. Both base model Cutlass Supreme's and the Internationals were available as convertibles. 

If I really, really needed a car, and that would mean the cost of repairing the Monte Carlo far exceeded its value to me, I might be tempted to drop the two-grand on this instead. That's a big if, mind you. That's said, it's nice to know that in this over-inflated, post-Covid used car market, good deals are out there. You just have to dig for them and be open to whatever they might be. And if, heaven forbid, you actually like the car, well, friend you've got the bargain of a lifetime. 

 

1973 Mercury Comet GT - I Could Have Been a Contender

This is a 1973 Mercury Comet GT and I like it. More so even than its corporate cousin, the Ford Maverick Grabber. Ford built the Grabber from 1970 through 1975, Mercury offered the Comet GT from 1971, same year they started selling the Maverick based Comet, through 1975. For the record, the battering ram "safety bumper" on the rear of the 1974-1977 Comet and Maverick coupes make them almost as forgettable as the four-door versions. 

Trust me on that one. There's my miserable '74 Comet sedan in front of the house I grew up in on Long Island. Bad enough the 1971-1977 Comet sedans lacked any of the elan of the coupes, I most certainly didn't gain any "cool points" with that thing, but the worst was that it was so unreliable. Rusty, squeaky, slow, terrible on gas and it broke down regularly. I've had a number of terrible cars, but that turd right there was the worst-of-the-worst. Rust on it was so bad I had to put plywood under the carpet to reinforce the floor. One time the master cylinder blew out when I was at a red light, and I rolled into an intersection yanking on the dash mounted emergency brake to get it to stop rolling.  

Now, would I feel that way if it was a 302-cubic inch V-8 powered Comet GT like this one? Maybe? But most likely it would be qualified with a heartfelt, "I wish it was a better, more reliable car" in the same way I wish a number of cars I've had were better. Too many cars now that I think about it. 

Both the Mercury Comet GT and Ford Maverick Grabber were little more than sporty looking but I don't care. Grabber's got a "dual-cone" hood, Comet GTs got this painfully cool (fake) hood scoop. Both were based on the new-for-1960 Ford Falcon and replaced in 1978 by, respectively, the far superior Fox-body based Mercury Zephyr and Ford Fairmont. Best I can say about them is they share a significant amount of DNA with the original Mustang. 

They came with somewhat upgraded interiors and larger wheels and tires. Note the snazzy, oh-so-Seventies trim on the passenger door. Ash tray too. Floor mounted transmission shifter was an extra cost option. 

You could get the GT or Grabber package on any Comet or Maverick two-door; even 200-cubic inch, six-cylinder models. At least my Comet had the optional 250-cubic inch six. No powerhouse, but it was a smooth running, torque-friendly runner although it got V-8 gas mileage. I never got better an 11-miles per gallon. The 302 could fare no better but at least you had a V-8. 

Not that the 302 in these cars were track stars. Making all of 138-horsepower, at least the 235-foot pounds of torque it made came on nice and low and was broad and flat. At a tick or two over 3,000-pounds, you didn't need a lot to get these going but it being the early days of emissions controls, "performance" was relative. Insurance premiums were through the roof on anything remotely construed as a performance car too, so sporty cars were slim pickings. Explains why there were more sporty looking cars, well, sort of sporty looking cars, than real performance cars. Hence, the all-show and no-go Mercury Comet GT and Ford Maverick Grabber. 

Would my life have turned out any differently had I had a Comet GT instead? If I even had to have a Comet? Oh, who knows. Fun to think about, though. Would be nice to have some fond automotive memories from my high school days instead of loathsome ones I do I have thanks to my '74; I could have been a contender. This one's for sale near Detroit with an asking price of $8,500. I know. Seems like a lot. NADA pegs this average retail around $5,500, high retail just over $10,000. Seems they split the difference. Might seem like a chunk of change for something so obscure and ordinary, but, through my foggy goggles, even the big bumper models are a whole lot cooler than any Mustang II. 

 

1973 Oldsmobile Cutlass S - Stuff of Legend

By the time I became of driving age in the early 1980's, cars like this 1973 Oldsmobile Cutlass S had become all but the stuff of legend. And I wanted one. Bad. What with their style over substance design, delightful and excessive sheer bulk (if you bought into that age old bigger is better axiom like I did at the time), rear-wheel-drive and big, (relatively) powerful V-8 engines, compared to the tiny, soul less, front-wheel-drive, four-cylinder golf carts that were new back then, the good old days certainly looked pretty good. Especially if you were a young car wonk like me. I found this on Facebook Marketplace for sale down in Akron with an asking price of $11,500. 

Leave it to Bud Lindeman and his delightful "Car and Track" series to put these cars into proper perspective. Bud and his crew pull no punches with their assessments, and with a couple of exceptions, found glaring faults with the cars and in his estimation, the cars were as good as they used to be. Including this 1973 Olds Cutlass S in this short film that looks quite similar to my Facebook find.   

Oh, how they beat on these cars. My favorite trick maneuver or "test" is the "reverse spin" where the driver has the car pegged full tilt in reverse then somehow swings it around a full 180-degrees. I'm not sure what the point of this was nor am I sure General Motors intended any of their cars to do such things that would make Hal Needham proud. Fun to watch though. Lindeman notes the set up on this '73 with the "4-4-2 suspension" is a lot softer than previous 4-4-2's had been. 

You could get the 4-4-2 suspension package on any Cutlass two-door in 1973. That meant heavy-duty front and rear sway bars and heavy-duty rear upper control arms. There was also a 4-4-2 appearance package that got buyers the then usual, and somewhat trite and cliched, decal and badge package denoting your car was more than just a run-of-the-mill Cutlass. Personally, I like the idea of a sleeper like the car Lindeman and his team wreaked havoc on. 

The poster of the Facebook Marketplace ad for this '73 Cutlass S doesn't mention if this car has the 4-4-2 suspension or not but for sure, it's got the to-die-for "swivel buckets" that in Lindeman's film he claims are very comfortable. Their official name was, "Swing-Out-Strato-bucket-Seats". 

The point of these things was to allow easier ingress and egress for rear seat passengers although they allowed minimal adjustment for the driver and front passenger. As someone of average height, at best, my time with a Swing-Out-Stato-bucket equipped car left me feeling as though I was always looking up and over the dash. 

These Swing-Out-Strato buckets also gave easier access for mom to her cute as a button munchkin. Note, no child seat and although you can't see it here, there was a shoulder harness for the driver and front passenger. Not that anyone used them back then. I'm surprised mom here doesn't have a cigarette in her hand. These buckets were only available on 1973-1977 Oldsmobile Cutlass S and Chevrolet intermediate coupes including Chevelle Malibu's, 1973-1975 Laguna's and of course, the belle-of-the-ball, the Monte Carlo. 

The bulk of my time in one of these was when I'd joyride my cousin's Cutlass S she'd leave in my parent's garage when she'd be off on one of her weeks-on-end, globe-trotting traipses. Wish I could say I got into Tom Cruise, "Risky Business"-like escapades but I didn't probably for no other reason than the car wasn't "all that". Much like Bud Lindeman points out in the above film, whatever emissions plumbing her car had on it, it really slowed the thing down. So much so that I thought the car had something seriously wrong with its engine. Technically it did, it was called "early and primitive emissions control systems". 

NADA average retail value on this is $11,950 so someone's done their homework. That also means you'd waste your low balling the seller. You can find these for less, but they'll need work. Up here in northeast Ohio that mean lots of work and good luck finding a body shop that fixes rust. This one looks pretty tight save for sitting too high and perhaps needing at least a buff-out. You'd probably spend more than what you'd spend on this fixing up something less expensive. Put some money aside to get some real tires too.  

Despite my misgivings about my cousin's Cutlass, I still remember really wanting something just like it. If not her car. After all, there was probably nothing wrong with her car that some tuning couldn't fix. When it was time for the old "e-check", set it back to factory specs. 

1983 Oldsmobile Toronado - Flipping Cars

I toy around with the idea of making extra money "flipping" old cars. Then I think better of it even when something like this 1983 Oldsmobile Toronado pops up on my Facebook Marketplace feed that appears to be pretty clean. Asking price is all of $1,500 too and there's just 48,000 miles on its thirty-nine-year-old analog ticker too. You'd think this the perfect muse for me to flip, right? The poster of the ad claims it needs brake work, but I know better to than to think that's the only thing this will need. 

Turns out the front brake lines are rusted through making the car undrivable. The rears still work, but rear brakes are more or less "back-ups" to the front brakes; the majority of a cars braking done by the fronts. Brake lines aren't something that you can buy at Autozone, NAPA or O'Reilly Autoparts either. They have to be custom bent, and the ends need to be properly "fit"; not something I ever want to try again. Trust me. Been there done that. Pull-A-Part yards usually won't let you glom brake lines either. Same with fuel lines. Not that I'd find one of these there anyway. 

Conveniently or not so conveniently, this car is in the same town my office is in. That's great. But my office is one-hundred-miles from where I live so this would need to be towed. Although I have up to two-hundred-miles per year towing included with my A.A.A. membership, this could get expensive for me in time and energy spent. Not to mention money. 

This generation of Oldsmobile Toronado is the kissin' cousin to the 1982 Buick Riviera I had when I first met my wife. That car, that my wife to this day still refers to as that "Old Man's Car", was the worst daily-driver I've ever had. I say, "daily driver" because my beloved 1977 Chevrolet Corvette is without question the worst car I've ever had at least in terms of reliability but it's not a "daily". At the end of the day, all things being equal and aside, reliability is the most important thing about any vehicle. Will it get you from point A to point B without any drama?  

This Toronado and my Riviera share much with the creme-de-la-creme of the class of 1979 General Motors "E-bodies", the Cadillac Eldorado. And of the three of them, on my short list of preference, the Olds Toronado is third behind the Riviera. A distant third I might add. Aesthetically. The cars are all but the same in terms of driving dynamics. 

They all share one of the most underappreciated pieces of General Motors engineering prowess of the 1960's, yes, the 1960's, what was referred to as the "Unified Powerplant Package" or "U.P.P.". 

The U.P.P. essentially combined the engine, transmission and differential into one compact "package" that laid in front of the firewall. Yes. These cars are front-wheel-drive. GM came out with the U.P.P. on the original Toronado in 1966, the Cadillac Eldorado got the same system, save for using a Cadillac V-8 and not an Olds engine, in 1967. Although starting in 1966 Buick used the same chassis and shell on their Riviera that Oldsmobile used on the Toronado and Cadillac on the Eldorado, they were allowed to eschew the U.P.P. for the at the time more conventional front engine, rear-wheel-drive layout. Ah, the days of real GM divisional autonomy. 

Buick eventually used the U.P.P. on the 1979 Riviera which, again, shared much with the also new for 1979 Oldsmobile Toronado and Cadillac Eldorado. 

Oddly enough, the only other General Motors application of the U.P.P. was on their front-wheel-drive, fiberglass and aluminum bodied motorhome they sold through GMC from 1973 through 1978. 

Thanks to the U.P.P. my Riviera was remarkably spacious for a car that was much smaller in length than the car it replaced, my 1975 Chrysler Cordoba. That's about the only good thing I can say about that bomb that plagued me and my bank account for just under two-years years ago. 

Why GM didn't use the remarkably space efficient U.P.P. on intermediate or compact cars is a question us mere mortals will never get an answer to. 

I've thought better than to pursue this car which is little more these days than a cheap relic of a bygone luxury car era; the way things used to be so to speak. With its oh-so-limited niche market "appeal", I wouldn't want to be stuck unable to unload it and being so ambivalent towards it, I most certainly wouldn't want to keep it. Regardless of what shape it's in. I mean, seriously, who the hell wants a 1983 Oldsmobile Toronado anyway? 

 

 

1987 Chevrolet Corvette Convertible - You Can't Have it All

For years now I've been on an on a semi-serious, on again off again search for a fourth-generation Corvette convertible. I need to be careful because at the rate I'm going I'm bound to find what I'm looking for. Especially this time of the year with some folks bailing out of their old cars before they store them for winter. This 1987 popped up on my Facebook Marketplace feed and it checks several "must have boxes". 

Most important box checked being if I'm ever going to own a C4, it has to be a convertible. And a convertible with the L98 engine and an automatic. Something please go wrong here because otherwise I might find myself in a stressful spot where I have to make a decision. 

It even comes with a set of leather trimmed seats to replace the yucky cloth ones. Another bonus is it's in the town I live in - no need to travel thirty, sixty or ninety minutes just to kick its tires. That's refreshing. Just 50,000 miles on its thirty-five-year-old digital ticket too. Help!  

Oh, but you know me. I'll always find something wrong enough for me not to pull the trigger and the big one here is the poster of the ad has this listed for $14,000. Can't fault them for asking that much but I'd chafe at forking over half that for this. If this was listed for five-grand I'd really be in a pickle. I'm also not crazy about the color but I could live with this for the right price. And fourteen-grand is far from the right price. NADA pegs this average retail at $8,750, high retail $16,300 so they no doubt think they'd be cutting someone a deal. 

Fourth-generation Corvette's debuted in the spring of 1983 as 1984's, due to delays there was no official 1983 Corvette, and while they were a stylized updating of the swoopy, shark-body third-generation Corvette, underneath they were a remarkable, dare I said near watershed updating of the Corvette just about everywhere else. 

Except the engine and automatic transmission. For 1984 and 1985, C4's carried over the infamous 205-horsepower, L83, "Cross Fire Injection" V-8 engine. The 700R4, four-speed automatic carried over as well and was used through 1996. The 700R4, essentially a four-speed version of the GM Turbo Hydramatic 400, was renamed 4L60 in 1990. 

Our neighborly subject here, again, has the more powerful, L98 that made 230-horsepower. While certainly no powerhouse in the modern sense, it has enough torque down low where I like it to make things interesting. Even with the 700R4. By the way, I'd avoid any C4 with a manual made before 1989 unless you enjoy manuals that are unnecessarily complicated to operate and challenging to repair. Those fuss buckets are known as the Doug Nash 4+3 manual. 

C4's, made from 1984 through 1996 and incrementally improved upon over the years, are a star-crossed lot. They don't command the money that early C3's do and even some later C3's that are original and unrestored get more love. Million reasons for that too ranging from the obvious to the nuanced; you either understand why one model year of a car, regardless of whether it's a Corvette or not, is worth more than another or you don't. 

Go to any car show and the C4's might as well be stuck out in the parking lot. Meanwhile the junkiest of C3's get fawned all over like an aging Super Bowl hero. My 25-year-old, fairly car savvy son is all about my 1977 Corvette and wants nothing to do with C4's; no matter how hard I try to convince him that they're pretty sweet performers.  

It boils down to what you prioritize in your weekend toy - engine power or handling prowess. Or just simple to-die-for good looks. And, sorry, life isn't fair. You can't have it all. Unless you're willing to pay for it. 

I was all of twenty-years-old when GM dropped the "new" Corvette, and at first, I was delighted that GM had finally done a complete do over on it. Styling was evolutionary, it was certainly no earth mover like the second-generation to third-generation Corvette was, I 've always found the fixed roof C4's had too much 1978-1982 fastback in them for my taste. The convertibles, which were launched starting in 1986, cured most of those ills. In fairness, fastback styling is generally not my thing too. 

Top up or down, these are cool cars. The fact they can pull g's like a Porsche and are really affordable makes them quite the bargain if you ask me. 

This one, is not bargain. And for that I'm kind of grateful. But like I said, if I try hard enough, I know I can find one right in the sweet spot of what I'm looking for. Thing is, I need to stop looking.