1990 Jaguar XKS 12 Convertible - Don't Meet Your Idols (Take 243)

About a year ago, just as I made the somewhat painful decision to sell my 1977 Corvette, a neighbor of ours had a 1990 Jaguar XJ-S convertible for sale just like this one and I had to take it for a spin. I had absolutely zero interest in buying it but, you never know. Maybe I'd be so enthralled with it I'd do the necessary mental gymnastics to convince myself to cut a check, or cheque for it. Besides, after living with the '77 Corvettes for years and everything it put me through, how bad could one of these be?  Thus, wife in tow, off we went. Top down and all. 

If you're of a certain vintage, you may have swooned over these dreamboats. I know I did. Growing up on Long Island's South Shore, to me, nothing embodied unobtainable levels of class, sophistication, refinement and success more than any Jaguar, in particular the 1975-1996 XJ-S and even more so, the XJ-S "dropheads". Drophead? Oh, sorry. That's what the Britt-Tisch refer to as convertibles. 

Built on a shortened wheelbase chassis of their XJ sedan and with some tuning to the suspension to make it seem more sporting, Jaguar introduced the XJ-S in 1975 to, technically at least, replace the ancient and old-timey looking E-Type that had been around since 1961. More of a luxury grand touring car than sports car like the E-Type, while a hit with buyers, critics damned the XJ-S with faint praise not so much for what it was, but for what it wasn't. That being it was not an E-Type. 

Available only as a hard top at first, Jaguar came out with a semi-fixed roof, canvassed-topped, targa-like "convertible" in 1983 they called the XJS-C. Above is a 1983. Reminds me of food in Great Britain. Not only is it weird looking, but its taste can also be revolting. I'd leave the top up. All the time. 

After much huffing, fussing, buttressing and expensive reengineering, Jaguar finally did right by us XJ-S fans when they came out with a, please clench your jaws when you say this, lovey, "proper convertible" in 1988. What a looker it was too. So, when a neighbor had, ostensibly an "open house" on theirs, I jumped at the chance to live life like someone from the North Shore. 

Now, granted, I knew it wouldn't come up to the clandestine driving experience I've had on racetracks in in a NASCAR stock car and Ferrari 488, but I expected it to at least ride, handle and accelerate with the aplomb of a fourth-generation Corvette. Long story short, it didn't. 

The big V-12 turned over reluctantly coughing, hacking and belching like my mother used to before her first Pall Mall in the morning. "She's got to warm up!" my neighbor noted as she saw the concern in my face. Once it did, I found the engine to have far less pop in its bat than my '77 Corvette's engine did.  The steering was sloppy, the suspension janky banging thunderously over the impossibly bad roads of our town. The car had only 36,000-miles on it but the struts or shocks or springs needed to be sorted out. At least the transmission shifted imperceptibly. Well, of course it did. It was a General Motors Turbo 400. 

While we felt like rock stars in it, when I asked my wife if she wanted to drive it, I mean, how many times in your life will you get to drive a Jaguar XJ-S convertible? She sensed my ambivalence if not disappointment and begged off the opportunity. 

Back at the ranch, I handed the keys to my neighbor noting the engine's sluggishness and rough suspension. The car had a general feeling of delicateness to it too, make that expensively delicate. She said it had been her late father's car, and they had had a number of challenges with it over the years. Electrical gremlins, mostly. Also, problems with the fuel injection and the air conditioning was constantly on the fritz. Repairs were expensive and it was hard to find someone to work on it and shops they did find that could, had a wait list sometimes three-months long. If not longer. She was asking around $12,000 for it - I don't know if I would have paid half that for it. 

Sigh. Just another case of, "don't meet your idols". 

 

1979 Dodge Lil Red Express Truck - Holy Jimmy Carter, Batman

When I was growing up on Long Island back in the '70's, no one drive pickup trucks as daily drivers. Tradespeople might have but work-a-day hacks? Nope. Sure, some did, one guy in my friend group had a small Toyota pickup but he wasn't originally from the Island, so he got a hall pass. Anyone else who dared to drive "a truck", was gently chided as being a hillbilly, bumpkin, hayseed or worse yet, a farmer. So, when Dodge came out with their "Lile Red Express" in 1978, they looked to me like someone wearing a Batman costume to church on Sunday. Our subject here is a 1979. 

We dig beneath the shiny red paint, pinstripes, and good grief, are those (factory) exhaust stacks?! And we find there was a (fairly) sound reason Dodge rolled these out. 

Dodge's (Chrysler's) problems began long before the government backed bailout, and Lee Iacocca came to the rescue. Years of product planning gaffes and internal strife left the company with little money for product development in a day of increasingly strict emissions and safety mandates. The energy crisis of 1973 only adding to their misery since most of their models were older, fuel-inefficient designs. 

So, Chrysler had no choice but to resort to repurposing existing models. Change the model nameplate here, gussy up the bodywork there. Worked for a little while too before cork came out of the beer can.  

This included not only their car lines but their light trucks as well. Thus, in the mid-1970's, Chrysler started peddling "adult toys" which weren't much more than lightly disguised versions of trucky stuff they already had in showrooms. The Lil Red Express was one of those "adult toys". 

Exploiting a loophole in the EPA's emissions regulations regarding light trucks with a GVWR (Gross Vehicle Weight Rating) of over 6,000-pounds, Dodge was able to slip Chrysler's "E58", 360 cubic-inch V-8 "cop engine" into these things with some perfectly acceptable modifications like the cam from their old (and awesome) 340 V-8 that helped the Copper make 225-horsepower (net) and 295-pounds of torque. Along with their stump pulling 3.55 "Sure Grip" inside their heavy-duty 9 1/4-inch pumpkin, this thing went like (relative) stink. All had Chrysler's wonderful 727 Torque Flite automatic. 

I mean, zero-to-sixty in 7.5-seconds and the quarter mile in 15-seconds kind of stinky. That this could keep up with Chevrolet Corvettes, Camaro Z28s and Pontiac Trans Ams of the day probably says more about those cars than how fast this was, but still, pretty impressive. Even today, you drive anything that can churn those kinds of numbers you wouldn't say it was underpowered. 

Also, with big rig trucks as popular as they were back then, well, us myopic, stuck-up Long Islanders didn't care about them but what did we know, the factory stand up exhaust pipes or "stacks" and step side rear box added to the "truck" aesthetic. The bed and tailgate trimmed in oak, along with the step side design reduced their practicality, and made as much sense as Long Island having an NHL franchise as well.  

This popped up on Facebook Marketplace recently about an hour south of Erie, Pennsylvania with an asking price of, holy Jimmy Carter, Batman, $29,500. 

 

1978 Mercury Grand Marquis - Catch Me If You Can

Back when I was a wee-little nipper living on the concrete and blacktop paradise known as Long Island, New York, dinosaurs like this 1978 Mercury Grand Marquis roamed the earth. I was all of 13- or 14-years old when this was new and to make myself feel even older, with this car now, gulp, 47-years-old...

I fired up the old wayback machine to take a look at what a 47-year-old Ford looked like in 1978. Wowza. Now, granted, automobiles don't evolve aesthetically at nearly the pace they did years ago but still, the difference between these two cars in "just" 47-years is remarkable. In fairness, by 1931, the auto industry was about to transition to all steel bodies and away from the spindly, old-timey designs from the 1910's and '20's, this 1931 Model A was in many ways, the last of its kind. 

Much like our big Merc here was the last if its kind. For 1979, Ford followed General Motors down the Great Downsizing Epoch rabbit hole shrink-raying their full-size Ford (division) and Mercury lineups. Big Lincoln's got the Sawzall for 1980. 

Gigantic, squishy and quiet, these cars evolved from the jarring, noisy, truck-like beasts my parent's generation grew up with. My father marveled at their smoothness even some of the cars he drove when I was a kid, to me at least, weren't that much more than Model A's. 

Its massiveness, though, our '78 here is roughly 19-feet long and nearly 7-feet wide, was part of the Big Three corn-feeding the buying public after World War II that the bigger the car, the bigger your wallet was. Or you wanted it perceived to be. My father's car-crazy son getting sucked into that bigger-is-better-vortex. At least for a little while. The plush ride and sheer bulk seemed to go hand-in-hand, but in reality, one has nothing to do with the other. 

Our '78 Grand Marquis here, looking splendid sans a vinyl top, was part of Lincoln-Mercury's full-size reboot for 1973. For 1974, all full-size became "Marquis'", the "Grand Marquis" the top-of-the-heap ahead of the Marquis Brougham and base Marquis. The Grand Marquis offering most if not every luxury accouterment the tonier and more expensive Lincoln Continental did. I think these better looking than the slab-sided Lincolns too. 

I don't care for this front end, though, I think it looks like a baroque headboard for a bed. The aftermarket rims are hideous too - Mercury had a handsome alloy rim for these cars but those are very rare. 

I have no idea what's going on here. With its 460 cranking out all of 202-horsepower, me thinks I can.  Looks like paint too making removing it a challenge.

This is for sale up near Detroit with an asking price of $4,900. Rims and wonky trunk lid paint job, this is a lot of car for the money. Literally and figuratively. 

 

1970 International Harvester 800A - Cowboy Cool

I love the timeless, utility-first, no-nonsense cowboy cool of old sport utility vehicles like this 1970 International Harvester Scout 800A. In the modern era, to me, the closest thing to it were the Land Rover Defender 90's from 1990 through 2016.  

If you're thinking this looks like an old, I mean old Jeep CJ, you're not alone and that was intentional. In a nutshell, in 1961, once vast and glorious International Harvester came out with what they called the Scout 80, to compete with Willy's (Kaiser after 1963) Jeep CJ. The Jeep CJ was the only thing of its kind in the market going back to 1945. 

"CJ" stands for "civilian jeep". Hats off to the executive at Willys-Overland who first realized that their war time general purpose or "GP", which the word "jeep" stems from, being as popular as it was with GI's, would be marketable after The War ended. 

Coincidentally or not, in 1966, IH introduced the larger Scout 800 just as Ford rolled out their original Jeep fighter, the Bronco. As they say, with Jeep and International, two was company, but with Ford in the bush, three was a crowd: the sports-utility-vehicle war had begun. Curiously, although GM introduced two full-size pickup truck-based SUV's in 1967, GM didn't introduce anything Jeep or Scout like until 1983. Chrysler never built a "Jeep" although they did acquire Jeep, whom they acquired as part of their purchase of American Motors, in 1987. 

IH updated the 800 with the better equipped 800A, like our '70 here, in 1968. The 800A had niceties like available six- and eight-cylinder engines, standard four-wheel-drive, stronger axles, a quieter transfer case and even offered two-tone paint schemes like this one has. You wouldn't think red and white would work on any vehicle that wasn't a '50's dinosaur made by Big Three, but it does here. Then again, love is blind.  

IH sold the 800A through 1970 replacing it with the lightly updated 800B for 1971. The Scout II replaced the 800B in 1972. 

Our '70 here popped up on Marketplace for sale somewhere up in Michigan west of Detroit. Poster of the ad, who apparently was desperate to "get it gone", recently dropped the price from $19,500 to $12,500. Looks like that price chop did the trick as I can't find it anymore. Bit rich for me, thank you. I love the look of these things, but I know this will beat the tar out of my lower back and kidneys if not slip a disc or two on me. This one was built to military specs too no doubt making the ride even harsher. 

For the same money, this ain't no ten-year old Cadillac Escalade. It is ten-times cooler, though. 

By 1985, International Harvester had sold off all of its various divisions, they had even gone into selling home appliances, but they held onto their truck division which was renamed Navistar International. 

1979 DiNapoli - Here Comes The Bride

When I was a kid, during late spring, summer and early fall weekends, wedding parties would use the park next to where I lived for their photos. Afterwards, they'd pile back into stretched Cadillacs and Lincolns, horns blaring, "Here Comes the Bride" and sometimes, part of the fleet would include a car like this 1979 DiNapoli Coupe. 

Back in the 1970's and '80s, "nostalgia cars" were "a thing" for a moment or two and it seemed whenever you saw one, a wedding wasn't far behind it or in front of it; you didn't see these every day. I don't remember if these were still popular when my wife and I got married in 1992, even if they were, there's no way she would have wanted one there. Not that I would have either, frankly. 

Their design inspiration, allegedly, came from the "classics" of the Great Gatsby era like the 1929 Rolls Royce Silver Phantom I Robert Redford drove in the 1974 movie adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's 1925 masterpiece, "The Great Gatsby". Leonardo DeCaprio drove a replica of a 1929 Duesenberg Model J in the 2013 remake. In the novel, F. Scott describes what Gatsby drives but never tells us what it was exactly. 

All of the cars had a similar look to them and none of them seemed quite right, all looking more like cheap, flimsy kit cars.  That's because they were beholden to the chassis and body shell of the donor vehicles that were their foundations. 

These were anything but cheap, though. This car sold new in 1979 for approximately $70,000, that's like $310,000 today. No wonder only 6 or 7 of these were ever sold. They had plans for 100 or so. 

There were a number of manufacturers that built "nostalgia cars" using various chassis and running gear from Ford Fox-body Mustangs and Cougars, third- and fourth-generation Chevrolet Corvettes, third-gen Camaros, Nissan 280 and 300 ZX' and in the case of our DiNapoli here, of all things, a 1979 Buick Regal Sport Coupe. Turbocharged, 3.8-liter V-6 and all. Well, that's what it was sold with originally. 

Our DiNapoli was designed by Nicholas DiNapoli, a former General Motors designer who was commissioned by Minicars Inc. to design it and was built Minicars subsidiary Pacific Coachworks of Southern California; not be confused with the present-day Pacific Coachworks that builds RV's. 

DiNapoli, for whom the car is named, was enamored of the 1978 Buick Regal's formal rear roofline and designed "his car" around it. The similarities to the Regal aren't readily apparent but once they're pointed out, it's hard not to see them. 

The wheelbase of the Regal was extended some three-and-a-half feet to give the DiNapoli its Great Gatsby long hood, most of the bodywork made from fiberglass or aluminum. Being the impetus for the design inspiration, the rear roof line from the Regal was used along with the exterior door panels and A-pillar's that house the windshield. 

Underneath, she's all 1978-1987 GM A-body, after 1981 they were known as "G-bodies". That means this will ride and handle like one although the Regal Sport Coupe for 1979 did come with heavier duty shocks and sway bars. The performance of the turbocharged V-6 no doubt hampered by the DiNapoli's added weight. That engine huffed out all of 165-horsepower, I shudder like this thing probably did to imagine how slow it would be if had Buick's non-turbo V-6. 

This wedding favor is for sale on Facebook Marketplace up in Montrose, Michigan, about ninety-minutes northwest of Detroit. Asking price is $5,800 and that seems like a lot for any domestic, non-running car from the late '70's. The seller bought this out of California about three years ago and I figure they thought better of it. Bonus, there's little to no rust on it. 

Scariest thing to me is the interior, especially the dash. On the right is what it would have looked like new. Good luck finding the plans for the original wooden dash or a carpenter who'd custom make it for you. If you do, you're going to pay through the hood ornament for it. Looks like the interior door panels, or "door cards" are included and you could, in theory, refurbish them. A Regal or any 1978-1988 A/G-body dash should bolt right in there. I'd pull the cards off the donor car you'd use for the dash instead. 

It's funny with things like this, odd houses too that you might fall in love with, you have to keep in mind how resalable this would be. Initial cost is one thing, but to sort this out might right you nearly twenty-grand if you don't do most of the work yourself. There's no market for these cars so, if you'd be buying this to flip it, buyer\investor beware. 

These days, Stebel sells a "Wedding March Musical Car Horn" horn for $49.99. Wish I had known about this when my son got married last October but just as well. 

 From the Marketplace ad: 1979 Buick regal rare dinapoli kit car needs complete restoration. Purchased 3 years ago from California. Minimal rust. But needs complete overhaul, non running would need a trailer, would make a bad ass hot rod for someone mechanically inclined. Asking $5,800 or best offer

 

1967 Dodge Polara - Smoldering Hot, Mid-Century Design

The Chrysler Corporation had some "out there" designs in the 1960's, some tapped down, bland ones too. This 1967 Dodge Polara hard top coupe appears to be a little of both. 

She's all business up front...

All party out back and a rager at that. That's some smoldering hot, midcentury design and I like it. You either get it or you don't. 

The rear side profile gets a little wonky. Through my goggles it's fussy, overly complicated and unfinished looking. Send that flying buttress to General Motors finishing school. 

This popped up on Facebook Marketplace recently down in bucolic Greenville, Ohio about forty-five minutes north of Dayton in the southwest part of the state. Asking price is $7,000. Say that slowly into this massive trunk so it echos back on you. Seven, seven. Thousand, thousand. Dollars, dollars. 

For your seven-grand you get a "318" car that has a new carburetor, fuel pump, fuel sending unit and alternator. 

There's no air conditioning and the brakes aren't boosted but at least you get a two-pot master cylinder. She does have power steering although you should note that the dip-stick top for the reservoir is missing.  

Interior is amazingly tight except for what appears to be a little wear on the driver's seat back. Looks repairable, though. I'd get that taken care of ASAP as it's only going to get worse. 

The big "owie", of course, is the paint finish or lack of one. I know a lot of people in the "Tri-Sate", Ohio-Kentucky-Indiana region love the rough patina look but it's not my cup of coolant. All I see is body work that to do it right, will run you at least what you paid for the car. 

Which negates any value proposition for me, not that I really saw any in the first place. If the engine was hot-rodded or if this was a 383 car, I might think a little differently but seven-grand, for this, friend-oh, seems quite steep.