1970 1/2 Ford Falcon - Moniker Anarchy

From my, "that's not what it looks like", file, today's soliloquy is about one of the more curious cars the Ford  Motor Company came out with in the 1970's. Nope, it's not an early 1970's Ford Torino or Fairlane, although no one would blame for thinking it was. but a 1970 1/2 Ford Falcon. I know, you're thinking, "wait, wasn't the Ford Falcon a compact car?"  Well, yes, it was. From 1960 through halfway through the 1970 model year it was a compact but for the latter half of 1970 it was an intermediate or mid-sized car. 

The story goes that Ford's 1970 compact Falcon, above, wasn't compliant with new, federally mandated safety standards that went into effect, somewhat oddly on January 1, 1970. Rather than update it, seeing the Falcon's replacement was already in showrooms, Ford discontinued production by December 31, 1969. 

Real or imagined, seeing that the Maverick (above) was launched only as a two-door sedan in April of 1969 and was designated a 1969 1/2, it left a hole in Ford's "entry-level" sedan lineup. Ford had a thing for half model-year releases back then. For more information, please google, "original Ford Mustang". 

Rather than roll out a Maverick four-door in mid-year 1970, Ford continued to use the "Falcon" nameplate as their entry level sedan on a bone-stripped, rental grade Torino\Fairlane 500. Voila, the 1970 1/2 Ford Falcon was, err, hatched. What makes things even more confusing is Ford offered the '70 1/2 Falcon not only as a four-door sedan but as a wagon and a two-door sedan like my Facebook Marketplace find here. 

Come 1971, though, Ford introduced a four-door Maverick replacing the Falcon as Ford's entry-level four-door sedan. Ford then sunset the Falcon nameplate here in the United States although in Australia, they used the "Falcon" moniker on a number of different models through 2016. Some of them quite interesting. 

Begs the question, though, if the Ford Motor Company felt they needed a four-door, entry level sedan after they discontinued production of the compact Falcon at the end of 1969, why didn't they come with a four-door Maverick when they introduced the nameplate in April of that year?  Or at least at the start of the 1970 model year in September of 1969? I find it hard to believe that the four-door, 1971 Maverick wasn't ready for sale by the start of the 1970 model-year. 

The marketing wonk in me would like to know Ford's rationale in branding the "new", intermediate sized Falcon as such. Giving their marketing and product planning departments the benefit of the doubt that there was clear, concise and succinct thinking if not logic behind that decision, hopefully, I'll uncover something that makes me go, "oh, ok. That's why". As it was, though, from a marketing and branding standpoint, it makes no sense. 

Ironies of ironies, during a truncated "half" model year, the Falcon outsold the Torino and its mid-level model the Fairlane 500. Then again, America loves a bargain. Especially when it's a stylish one like the 1970 1/2 Falcon was. Especially these swoopy two-doors; what teenage me would have done to have one of these even with the pokey six-cylinder. The four-door sedan, again, the alleged impetus for the the moniker anarchy, I have no use for. Same for the clumsy wagons. 

This Facebook Marketplace find is no "bargain", though. Asking price is $10,000 and for that princely sum you get a mostly original, the engine was rebuilt in 1988, and all but unrestored 1970 1/2 Ford Falcon with no power brakes, no power steering and Ford's 250-cubic inch, inline six rated generously at 155-gross rated horsepower. I find it amazing the sixer wasn't tossed sometime over the last 53-years for a V-8, don't you? From the looks of things this car has been generally pampered it's entire life. Originally a Florida car, it came to western New York in 1996 and has been a garage queen ever since. 

1994 Chevrolet Lumina Euro - Please Don't Call it A Eurosport

Few things bring back memories like an old car. Especially one in great shape like this 1994 Chevrolet Lumina "Euro" coupe is. Back in late December of 1989, I had gotten fed up with my 1982 Buick Riviera constantly breaking down, so I ditched it, grabbed my checkbook and bought the only brand new car I've ever owned -  a black, 1990 Chevrolet Lumina "Euro" coupe just like this handsome dark red one. 

Chevrolet built the Lumina Euro on General Motors new-for-1988, "GM10" chassis or platform that also underpinned the Pontiac Grand Prix, Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme and Buick Regal. Cadillac never got a GM10. Reviled as much as adored, when P-O-B debuted their GM10's as 1988 models, curiously, they only came as coupes. What's more, the first Chevrolet Lumina didn't leave the factory until the summer of 1989 as 1990 models. Why the delay? Who knows. Alexa can't answer that one. 

P-O-B finally got sedan GM10 for 1990. To underscore how family-centric Chevrolet wanted the buying public to believe their four-door Lumina was, they pulled the sheet off of it at Disneyworld in the spring of 1989. So effective was that marketing ploy that when I'd tell people I bought a brand new Lumina, they'd say, "you bought a family car?" What's more, I'd have to correct them when they'd call it a "Eurosport". Their faux pas somewhat understandable given that from 1984-1989, Chevrolet called a sporty-ish version of their venerable Celebrity, "Eurosport". 

The Lumina replaced the Celebrity in the Chevrolet lineup although Chevrolet continued to offer the Celebrity wagon through 1990. Technically, there was a Lumina wagon but it was the Chevrolet version of the GM plastic-paneled "dustbuster" minivan they called "Lumina APV" (all-purpose vehicle). The only thing it had in common with the Lumina coupe and sedan was its name. Had to be a reason for the overlap; perhaps they had a gaggle of unsold '89's lying around? Alexa? 

For an "over-the-curb" price of $16,600, I thought I had a lot of car on my hands. In addition to what I thought was quite handsome styling, I had a nimble although fairly harsh riding, sized-just-right car that was spacious, comfortable, good on gas for the times (25-27 mpg) and came with nifty seat belts that you could leave buckled if you chose; I did it once, felt I was getting clotheslined when I got in and never did it again. I missed the dual power seats and leather lined interior of my Riviera, but I fathomed that it was fine to take a step or two backwards accoutrement-wise in the interest of my moving forward. 

Only issues I had en masse with my "Euro" was the jarring ride and while adequately powered by its 3.1-liter V-6, I felt it somewhat pokey. I surmised its decent gas mileage made up for the lack of real beans, though. Yes, there was more than a fair share of rationalization going on in my mind but in the end, my "Euro" did exactly what I needed it to: get me from point A to B with not so much a single hiccup. Its stalwart reliability is all but commonplace today, but even in 1990, it was hardly a given. Especially on anything GM if not any domestic. 

I find it interesting how ambivalent I am towards this well preserved 1994. It's for sale on Facebook Marketplace with a fair asking price of $4,500, not bad for anything in this kind of condition these days with, bonus(?), all of 40,000-miles on its 29-year old analog ticker. Having nothing but pleasant memories of my '90, you'd think like some middle-age guy in the late 1980's or early 1990's longing for his long lost '57 Chevy I'd jump at it. Meh. As handsome as I thought this car was back then and I still do, this is no '57 Chevy.  

Also, then as now, please, don't call it a "Eurosport". 

 

1984 Dodge Omni GLH - Goes Like Hell

For those of us "into" history and automobiles, it doesn't get any better when they both come together like it did for me the other day when this 1984 Dodge Omni GLH popped up for sale on Facebook Marketplace out in Findlay, Ohio, roughly halfway between Cleveland and Toledo. This hardly looks like a historically significant automobile but, trust me, it played an important role in the advancement of the American automobile. And a good one at that. 

Prior to the mid-1970's, most cars made and sold in the United States were rear-wheel drive with their engines mounted longitudinally in front of driver with torque diverted to a differential via a shaft running under the car. The only front-wheel-drive cars made and sold here at the time were General Motors' Oldsmobile Toronado, since 1966, and Cadillac Eldroado since 1967. Long defunct Auburn Cord had manufactured and sold FWD cars in the 1930's as well. The only other American car deviation from a front-engine, rear-wheel-drive configuration had been General Motors' 1960-1969 Chevrolet Corvair. 

Beginning in 1978, the Dodge Omni and it's corporate clone Plymouth Horizon, were the first front-wheel-drive compacts assembled in North America. What's more, their engines and transmissions were transversely mounted whereas the GM luxury cars and even the Cord's had engines and transmissions that were longitudinal.

The interior packaging efficiency of an automobile the size of the Omni\Horizon afforded by its powertrain alignment was unlike anything ever made in this country before. That is... except for Volkswagen and their FWD Rabbit that went on sale here in 1974. 

Appearances being everything, when these came it appeared obvious that Chrysler had their eyes all over the Rabbit. However, it was VW who had their eyes on the front-wheel-drive, compact sedan manufactured and sold in Europe by Chrysler subsidiary Simca since 1967, that was known as the 1100. The Simca 1100, and subsequent models, were remarkable for their combination of what are now construed as modern automobile engineering; transverse-mounted powertrains, unit-body construction, and independent suspensions. All in a compact economy car too. 

Therefore, when Chrysler (America) went looking for a suitable platform for a compact, front-wheel-drive sedan, they didn't have to look too hard to find one. You'll also find much Simca 1100\1200 and Dodge Omni and Plymouth Horizon DNA in the famous Chrysler K-cars that all but saved Chrysler from bankruptcy in the 1980's. 

By 1984, though, compact, front-wheel-drive economy cars were all but the norm, particularly from Japanese manufacturers who had engineered out much of it's quirks and foibles. To infuse some much needed pizzaz into the aging Dodge Omni, Chrysler fitted it with a high-performance version of their 2.2-liter, inline four-cylinder engine, bolted on the suspension baubles, bits and tuning from their Dodge Shelby Charger, which was based on the Omni 024 coupe, and, voila, America's first "hot-hatch" or "pocket rocket" was born. They called it the Dodge Omni "Goes Like Hell", or "GLH".  

As far as our $1,400 Facebook Marketplace find here, it's seen seen better days. Poster of the ad claims it had sat for 16-years prior to their purchasing it from the original owner. It's currently not running and they patched the rusted out floor boards themselves. Lovely. Worst is, apparently there's structural rust (decay) on the driver's side rear where the axle attaches and they say that will need to be fixed. Good luck with that. He, or she, waxes on as well how they're tired of answering questions about wheel sizes, engine swaps and negotiating the price by text. Sounds like a swell person to deal with. You've been warned. 

One of these days I'll blog about the right and wrong ways to sell a car on social media; I've sold five cars on FB Marketplace and bought at least two on Craigslist so I think I know a thing or two about it. Rest assured, coming across as anything less than hospitable is most certainly not the way to get things sold. Even for a car as historically significant as this one is. Don't get me wrong, though, at the end of the day, we're talking about a Dodge Omni here. 

1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass - Original and Unrestored, 40K One Owner

You don't find many 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass' anywhere in this kind of shape, especially up here in the northern reaches of the rust belt. Most of these types of cars are either disintegrating or have been modified up the proverbial catalytic converter. Nice to find a survivor that's original and unrestored. 

Asking price is a fair $7,000. NADA pegs this "average retail" at $11,200 so there may be more issues to contend with than just the transmission leak they disclose in the ad. Or they just want to unload it quickly and without much drama. Outside that, details are sparce for this one-owner time-capsule with just 40,000-miles on its forty-five year old analog odometer. 

Our "Cutty" here here is part of General Motors downsized intermediate line that was all new for model year 1978. GM first shrink-rayed their full size models for 1977 and then they rebooted their mid sizers for '78. While GM returned their full-size models in 1977 to approximately the size they were in 1965, they sliced and diced these intermediates down so much they were more like upsized compacts than mid-sized cars. 

That's all well and good as the smaller, tidier dimensions made for more fuel-efficient cars and ones that handled better than any GM intermediate prior. I've just never cared for their styling but if you held a air gun to my head, I'd be ok these notchback, Cutlass two-door sedans. Especially if it had the optional, Chevrolet built, 160-horsepower, "LG4", 305-cubic inch V-8 that could move a '78 4-4-2 from zero-to-sixty in 8.9-seconds. Don't laugh, that was pretty quick back and roughly only a second quicker than an "L82" powered Corvette could do it. Seeing what a bone-stripper this is, that's highly unlikely. I'd bet on it having the base, 105-hp, Buick V-6 or everyone's favorite Oldsmobile built boat anchor, their 115-horse, 260-CID V-8. I know, you thought I was going to say Oldsmobile's "350" diesel. These cars didn't get those monsters until 1979. 

What to do with our little brown bomber here? Good question. I don't see much sense it leaving it alone and not "retro-modding" it to give at least somewhat contemporary performance. As is, it's so underpowered, it could be dangerous to merge onto highways with given how fast traffic can move these days. But then it's not "original and unrestored", right? Yeah, but let's be real, shall we? We're talking about a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass here. $7,000 can't buy you a 1977 Camaro, Corvette or Firebird in this shape so in that, perhaps there's great value here. Swap in a spicy engine, 700R4 (transmission) gutsy rear end and firmer shocks and springs, and you could give any muscle, pony or sports car of similar vintage a real good run for the money. For not all that much money too. Leave it everything else looking stock so at least it still looks "original and unrestored". 

1971 Cadillac Coupe deVille - Elvis Has Left The Buiilding

I know I'm not alone in my appreciation for these ridiculously large, over-bearing land yachts. I do find my admiration for them somewhat curious, though, as they play against the types of cars I typically appreciate - that being muscle, pony and sports cars. All I can say is, for some reason, I grew fond of them during my wretched, woe-be-gone wonder years, particularly the stylish two-door variants like this freakishly well-persevered 1971 Cadillac Coupe deVille. 

I know, I know. My blog needs another soliloquy about a 1970's Cadillac like Elvis needed another peanut butter and banana sandwich. But, indulge me. When you come across one as nice as this one, you make exceptions to your own rules. 

What I euphemistically refer to as the "Great Cadillac Epoch" began in the summer of 1977 when my parents replaced their humble, DI-NOC free 1968 Ford Ranch Wagon with, of all things, a dreary, blue-on-black, 1972 Cadillac Sedan deVille. It took them over a year to find that wretched bomb and along the way through their endless shopping, I came to appreciate the subtle elan of the Coupe deVille over it's far for more formal four-door brethren. The Coupe deVille for the jocular type, that I portend to be, whereas the staid sedan was for the more rigid, uptight and regimented. 

GM rebooted their entire full-size line for MY 1971 and the update included some of the largest automobiles ever made. The Cadillac Coupe deVille nearly an inch longer and half-inch wider than a 1970 model - which was by no means a small car. Come the advent of five-mile-per-hour "safety bumpers" in 1973 and 1974, the Coupe deVille would grow to nearly 231-inches long stem to stern. 

Sheer bulk for the sake of sheer bulk; these cars were derided by pundits for their space-inefficient interior design. Interior designs, mind you, that didn't look all that much different from the insides of a Buick Electra, Olds Ninety-Eight or, dare I say, a Chevrolet Caprice. In many cases, the "lesser" GM brands interiors looked richer.   

Externally, the sheet metal is rather becoming, in my opinion. Much of the design cues harkening back to the glorious Cadillacs of yore that helped make the moniker what it would become in the heady years after World War II. Sumptuous designs complimenting a brace of engineering innovation. Sadly, by the early 1970's, what had made a "Cadillac" a "Cadillac" had fallen drastically by the wayside. The really tangible innovations stopped coming, the designs became less sophisticated, materials used cheaper and were simpler to ease in assembly. 

Sure, you got better fit and finish due to the slow-moving Cadillac assembly line, but for all intents and purposes, you weren't getting much for what amounted to a 60-percent tariff to purchase a Cadillac compared to a Caprice. Contemporary road tests actually found the Caprice to be the better car not to mention a better value. Ouch. 

My mother literally steered the boat on my parents wretched Cadillac search - my father could have cared less what he drove but my mother was all about making pretense - if we had a Cadillac in front of our house, then our neighbors would think we were doing well. Nothing could have been further from the truth, mind you. And I'll never forget the look of disappointment in my mother's eyes when she realized that "her Cadillac" wasn't anything special at all. 

The delightful red hue of the ostrich-leather hides of this car, though, do wonders for cheering up the cabin. This one if for sale not far from my office and is commanding a $33,000 asking price. I know. As if. 

It has only 15,000-miles on it and appears to be all but flawless, but I think the only person that would pay that much for this creme-de-la-creme puff is some European magnate with a penchant for American automotive beefcake. That or some die-hard Elvis fan or impersonator. 

NADA price guidelines peg one of these "high retail" around $12,000. That seems incredibly low but it's more of an outline than anything. Still, thirty-three-grand for this? Not ten-years ago, one of these in this shape would go for something in the mid- to high-teens. 

Elvis has left the building. 

1979 Chrysler 300 - Cop Motor, Cop Suspension, Cop Shocks

As the world's foremost expert and appreciator of all things 1975-1977 Chrysler Cordoba, well, somebody has to be, I've never been a fan of the reboot Chrysler did to "my car" for 1978. In my humblest of opines, all of what made those cars distinctive and decidedly "un-Chevrolet Monte Carlo" went flying out the proverbial opera window leaving a car that looked dense, heavy, ungainly, portly and unsophisticated looking. Oddly enough, I forgive most if not all of the sins of the class-of-1978 Cordoba with these 1979-only, "300's" that are based on those updated Cordoba's.  

These cars purportedly emulated the famed Chrysler 300's of the 1950's and 1960's although, unlike Dodge's 2008-to the present Challenger, that unabashedly resembles the iconic 1970-1974 originals, save for the crosshair grill, these things look nothing like any 300 before them. Or, seeing how many iterations of Chrysler 300's there have been in the last twenty-five-years or so, nothing like any of them either. 

Upwards of 4,000 or so "300's" were produced for 1979 and for their $2,040 tariff over a regular Cordoba, "300" buyers got the "E58", 360-cubic inch "4V", 195-horsepower "Cop Motor" V-8 which was the most powerful passenger car engine Chrysler offered that year. To make the most of the thrust, a 3.2, "performance" rear-axle-ratio was part of the package and to handle everything with a modicum of aplomb, they added a heavy-duty suspension with "firm-feel" power steering. The whole set up essentially what Dodge offered police departments with on their Monaco, four-door sedans. Incidentally, the fun stuff was also available on Cordoba's. That along with a laundry list of exterior and interior baubles and bits that made a 1979 Cordoba a "300". 

That included a unique "300" grille, front fender louvers, body-colored bumper guard cushions and bumper rub strips, body-colored dual remote mirrors, red\blue pinstriping, Spinnaker white paint, red, "Corinthian" leather seats, console with shifter, an "engine-turned" dash applique, a more comprehensive gauge package and a gaggle of "300" badging so no one would ever confuse a "300" with a Cordoba. 

All the doo-dads worked together, again, my two-cents, quite well to create a "super-Cordoba", if you will. What can I say? The tape and decals stoke my inner twelve-year-old and I could care less if there was "more car" than ones that didn't have the schmaltzy, ersatz add-on's. Don't get me wrong, though, I most heartedly appreciate any beefing up of the car. Although, it would have been nice if Chrysler started with at least the suspension they offered on the 300 and firmed things up from there. 

Seeing that performance cars were all but verboten in the late 1970's, the 1979 Chrysler 300 was a head scratcher - the answer to a question it seemed no one was asking. Best I can guess, someone at Chrysler was a fan of the 300's of yore and whipped one up based on the out-going Cordoba. That it cost Chrysler probably next to nothing to gussy up a Cordoba and make it a "300", and anything made above and beyond the sticker price for a Cordoba money in the bank, suits upstairs must have been like, "sure, go ahead". They had bigger fish to fry anyway in the early days of Iacocca administration. You know, like not going under. 

I swear I've seen this car at car shows near where I live just west of Cleveland, Ohio. How many of these could there be still out there anyway? If it is that car, these pictures make it appear better than it is - the one I've seen is pretty rough. And the $6,500 price of admission is pretty steep for a car that needs quite a bit of work. Mechanically, the parts are a dime a dozen but the various trim pieces, especially the grille, if you can find them, will be very expensive. 

Closer you could get it to $4,000 I think it well bought. I can't find it, now, could it have been sold? Arse for every seat, as we say. 

Legend has it Chrysler had plans to continue building a "300" based on their downsized, R-body, 1980 Cordoba, but they changed direction and labeled what was to be the 300 the Cordoba LS. 

1959 Buick Invicta - Sorry, Harley

 

Pontiac ad wizard Jim Wangers coined the term "muscle car" to promote the GTO in 1964, but from 1936 through 1942 and 1954 through 1958, Buick, of all GM divisions, sold a "muscular car" they called, "Century". While "Century" might not have had the machismotic ring of "GTO" or "4-4-2", it was in fact quite fast. So fast that Buick called the car, which was Buick's entry level "Special" stuffed with the Roadmaster's engine, "Century" to denote the car's top-speed of over 100-miles-per-hour. Come 1959, when Buick introduced all new models complete with new model names, what had been the Century became known as "Invicta". Our patina-soaked subject here is a '59 Invicta I found for sale on Facebook Marketplace recently. Asking price is $4,500. Well, can't fault the seller for asking that much. 

The Buick Invicta used the same formula Buick used with the Century - their largest engine, in this case, the 401-cubic inch engine from their newly named Electra, which had been the Roadmaster, stuffed into the somewhat smaller bodied new LeSabre, that had been the Special. I say somewhat smaller because all Buick's as well as all GM's makes and models through 1959 were built off similarly sized chassis. The biggest difference between them wheelbase length. 

Contemporary road tests of the Invicta were mixed. Critics applauded the "push" of the larger engine, its ease of steering thanks to its optional power steering and what they deemed the best brakes in the business. That, if you've ever driven a 1950's automobile, wasn't saying much. They dinged it, however, for being too big, heavy, softly sprung and reading between the tactfully written, advertiser friendly lines, horrible interior ergonomics and packaging. That's a bad ass dashboard, though. 

They stayed away, for the most part, as auto scribes usually do, from the most subjective of matters, the car's styling. Above is what our '59 would look like if it didn't have all the surface rust and its interior didn't like wild animals had been using it as a nest for fifty- or sixty-years. 

Frankly, my personal jury's out on whether or not 1959 was the high- or low-point for General Motors design. Either way, it seemed things were coming to a fevered, obsessive head what with "planned obsolescence" driving GM design honcho Harley Earl and his team to literally and figuratively reinvent the wheel each model year. Throw in some real motivation like Chrysler's tailfins-to-the-moon, snot-locker-cleaning 1957 models and Mr. Earl's pending retirement and you had the impetus for some of the most outrageous or, depending on your point of view, ridiculous designs in automobile history. 

I attribute a personal lack of context for my inability to get my arms around cars from the '50's; I didn't see many growing up in the '70's. Ones I did see looked incredibly old and dated, they were like set pieces in a period TV show or movie. Their driver's instant "B-level" celebrities; they might as well have been time travelers. On some level, my perspective of them as pure and honest as my 26-year-old, quasi-car enthusiastic son's is. 

I do like the sweeping, dramatic flair of this car except for this bull-nosed front-end; sorry, Harley, that's just plain awful. For 1960, Buick flattened the hood and aligned the headlights making for a much more handsome car in my humblest of opines. Little else was changed. Big changes came for 1961, though, as Buick and all GM divisions radically redesigned their wares making the 1959 and 1960 models look like three-day old leftovers. Not a bad thing if you weren't a slave to fashion and didn't mind not having the latest and greatest. 

Buick sunset the Invicta nameplate after 1963 replacing it with the "Wildcat", which had been an Invicta subseries on 1962 and 1963 Invicta's. The Wildcat had more exclusive sheet metal than the Invicta or Century ever had, although it was fairly obvious it was gussied up LeSabre. Buick replaced the Wildcat in 1971 with the Centurion. After '73, the Centurion and whole notion of a full-size, "performance" Buick was never seen again.