Triumph TR7 - Dope

In past blogs we've discussed that the reason that we find things visually attractive or stimulating is because when we see something that we like, it triggers the pleasure or reward centers of our brains. Same goes for seeing something you haven't seen in a while. A long while for me, actually with regards to what I guesstimate to be a 1979 Triumph TR7 "drop head" coupe. "Drop head", incidentally, is what our friends across the pond refer to as a convertible. 

It's ironic that I found the TR7 alluring when I was a kid; after all, I am and always have been abhorrent to change. Change meaning that the all new for 1975 TR7 replaced an apple of my eye, the mighty Triumph TR6. Triumph continued to produce the spectacular but old school Spitfire along side the TR7 so, perhaps that assuaged my verklempt that the TR6 was no more.

Anyway, I don't know when it was that I first saw a TR7 but it knocked me sideways. What Triumph marketed as, "The Shape of Things To Come" dumped a ton of my dope for me. What a fantastic looking little car. 

I being far too young to drive when these first came out and there being far too few of them ever exported to this country to even think about purchasing when I came of age, I've never, sadly, had the opportunity to drive one. However, based on road test reviews at the time time and knowing now what the subtle language that described how miserable a car they were, it would probably be best that I never get behind the wheel of one. Remember what we've said in the past about meeting your idols. Best you don't. 

The best that was said for the TR7 years ago was that they were an improvement, driving wise, over the TR6. The TR7 apparently as significant improvement over its predecessor as say, the 1984 Corvette was over what it replaced. 

Then we get to the subject of build quality. Legend has it, there was none. What with the falling apart of Triumph's parent company British Leyland and myriad strikes and morale problems on assembly lines, the Triumph TR7 quickly developed a notorious reputation. A reputation for unreliability that was so bad that no matter how many improvements were made to the car over the years, the dye was cast. The new Triumph was a loser. 

The joke with our lovely but fairly worn little subject here is that I found it in the parking lot of a mechanic's garage. I can only wonder what horribly expensive problem it may have. Cooling system shot? Tranmission locked up? Electrical gremlins? What could it be? Some things, like my dopamine dumping appreciation of the design of this car, never change. 

1996 Chevrolet Camaro - My Boys' Car

Last fall up here in Cleveland, what some would call "Indian Summer" ran right into the middle of November. It was one particularly warm, sunny morning that I took the 1996 Camaro my wife and I bought as an extra car for our teenage boys to use to the office instead of my Monte Carlo. I had the Monte off line as it was suffering through one of its biannual maladies and since the Camaro hadn't been used much since the end of August, what with the boys away at college, it could have used a good spin.

Remember the old saying about no good deed goes unpunished? Well, with the weather as nice as it was, I didn't need to have the heat on in the car. Had it been a chilly day, I would have had the heat on and I probably would have noticed before it was too late that there was no heat. The lower radiator hose had come off its fitting and all the coolant drained out the engine. Why'd this happen? Dammed if I or a half dozen mechanics I've consulted could tell me but no coolant meant no cooling and no tell tale heat. The engine over heated and blew out the head gaskets.

Ironic that the very type of thing that I worried about happening to our boys when they used the car would happen to me when I used it. And had it happened to them, as freakish as it was, I would've have been understanding and consoling whereas since it occurred to me on my watch, I was left feeling foolish and irresponsible. What's more, I was heartbroken.

While I was no less than mortified over a $2,700 repair estimate, and trust me, I've done enough research to determine that it's not something I'd want to handle myself, my heartache was not so much about the car and the expense to repair it but about what the car, selfishly, means to me. I miss our boys terribly but seeing "their Camaro" in the driveway, much like standing in their cluttered bedrooms they've left behind, is a reminder that they will be coming home from school soon. Albeit for a short while. I'm not ready to let them grow up and be adults just yet let alone get rid of a tangible link to when they were younger; the very thought of getting rid of "their car" made me sick to my stomach. Heck, with them away at school I can't even go into their bedrooms without first girding myself emotionally.

Since we didn't need the car for a while, I had time to not only "get over" the Camaro but figure out a best possible plan of action. That boiled down to, essentially, two things. Either fix what we have or start over with, as my wife has pointed out repeatedly, something more practical. She does have a point since a rear wheel drive, twenty year old Camaro in a snow city is not the best idea in the world. However, the expression on their faces when we first got it makes any inconvenience worthwhile.

Resigned to replacing it, I didn't feel spending the money to fix it worth it since the car is very rusty underneath, I set a budget slightly north of what it would have cost to do the repairs and searched for anything that looked decent. The process was arduous. Used car shopping a big enough pain when you have a decent budget to work with but when you've strapped yourself with next to nothing, it can be torture. There's a lot of junk out there and I don't miss the characters I met on Craigslist either. During my search, of course, I also looked at every 1993-2002 Chevrolet Camaro for sale between Toledo, Dayton, Columbus and Athens, Ohio and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Pickin's, as they say, were slim.

However, one day I came across the literal clone of what we had not thirty minutes to the south of us. With just 68,000 miles on its odometer and having originally been an "Arizona car" I couldn't get my checkbook out fast enough after I had it checked for purchase by a mechanic. The mechanic seeing the car was clean as it was told me if I didn't buy it, he would. While buying the "new" Camaro cost us about $500 more than what it would have cost us to repair the "old" one, from a glass is half full perspective, we've actually come out ahead seeing that this car has 30,000 less miles on it that our "old Camaro". It also has not a spec of rust. Something I can't say about our "old" Camaro.

I'm no fatalist but I'm nothing if not diligent; the harder you work the luckier you get. I'd would like to believe, though, that it was more than just sheer coincidence that I've been able to replace what we had with virtually the same thing. Fate or some higher power telling me that it's alright to miss our boys who are growing up way, way too fast. That higher power telling me that it's ok to hold onto whatever it is that you reminds me of them. If that makes me feel better about their growing up then so be it. Yes, it is just a car...but it's my boys' car. 

The Cars of La La Land - Sebastian's 1982 Buick Riviera

I was driving this 1982 Buick Riviera when I met my wife, Janet. To this day she chides me about it calling it an “old man's car.” Much to my delight, the other night we watched La La Land on Netflix, and Ryan Gosling's character, Sebastian, drives a 1982 Buick Riviera.

Granted, Sebastian's Riviera was a convertible while mine was a hardtop, but seeing one of the leads in a big Hollywood movie driving the same year, make and model of car I once did was, through my foggy goggles, vindicating. And it was delicious.

I bought my Riviera in January 1988 after I wrecked my 1975 Chrysler Cordoba on an icy morning just after Christmas. Granted, I really wanted a Camaro, Trans Am or Mustang, but with my driving record chock-full of speeding tickets and accidents, I couldn't touch the insurance payments on anything remotely construed as a performance car. In hindsight, I should have bought some inherently practical four-cylinder whatever, but young Turk that I was, not unlike Sebastian in La La Land, I couldn't drive no stinkin' economy car. I had my standards.

As misguided and convoluted as they may have been.

My Riviera and Sebastian's were part of the sixth generation of Rivieras, which was all-new for 1979. The new Riviera was front-wheel drive and shared its platform and much of its mechanical architecture with the also-new-for-1979 Oldsmobile Toronado and Cadillac Eldorado. Motor Trend thought so highly of the turbocharged, sport-tuned Riviera S-Type that it awarded the car its highly sought-after 1979 Car of the Year honors. The Riviera S-Type came standard with Buick's turbocharged 3.8-liter V6, although a Buick-built "350" V8 could be substituted.

Encompassing some of the spirit of the magnificent, if not seminal, 1963 Riviera, the 1979 Buick Riviera seemed to foretell a future full of blue skies and sunshine for General Motors through the 1980s and beyond.

Spoiler alert: Like Sebastian and his love interest Mia's (Emma Stone) future, which once shined so brilliantly, GM eventually crashed and burned.

Janet and I fared much better.

In a major motion picture, “car casting” doesn't happen by accident and can be a most important set-design element. In La La Land, the production designers agonized over what car to give Sebastian. They ultimately settled on a red 1982 Buick Riviera convertible, a car that production designer David Wasco said Ryan Gosling himself helped choose. It was an outdated car that fit Sebastian's throwback personality perfectly.

What's more, the differences between a big, gas-swilling old Buick and the Toyota Prius Mia drives underscore the vast differences between the two of them. As opposites sometimes do, these two self-absorbed dreamers worked as a couple.

That is, until their dreams got in the way of “them.”

There are some parallels between Sebastian, Mia and my wife and me, too. My wife is more than happy to say she's “just like Mia,” and I wholeheartedly concur. Whereas I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit I have more than my fair share of Sebastian in my DNA. Well, what can I say? We both drove 1982 Buick Rivieras.

I think fondly of my Riviera now, although, frankly, I know I love the idea of it relative to my life at the time more than I love the car itself. My Riviera was slow, handled like a bathtub full of water, was sloppily assembled and broke down so often I was on a first-name basis with the counter people at Hertz and Avis.

Still, much like at the end of La La Land, when Sebastian and Mia ponder what their lives might have been like together “for the long haul,” the fact that it was the car I had when I first met my wife makes getting another one a wonderful thing to think about.

And if I were to get another one, it'd be a red convertible, just like Sebastian's.

I think fondly of my Riviera now although, frankly, I know I love the idea of it relative to my life at the time more than the car itself. My Riviera was slow, handled like a bathtub full of water, was sloppily assembled and broke down so often I was on a first name basis with the counter people at Hertz and Avis. Still, much like at the end of "La La Land" when Sebastian and Mia ponder what their lives would have been like together "for the long haul", it being the car I had when I first met my wife, my getting another one is wonderful to think about. And if I was to get another one, it'd be a red convertible just like Sebastian's.  

Infiniti G37 Convertible - Living Vicariously



The sun in your face, the wind in your hair, no unobstructed views as breath taking vistas zip by. What's not to like about the idea of a convertible? What's more, with the top down everyone looks great in a convertible and, bonus!, who doesn't like to be looked at enviously by strangers?

Well, perhaps being ogled by strangers isn't for everyone but aside from a (precious) few benefits, I'm sure there are at least a couple more, I, for one, am of the belief that convertibles are just not worth the hassle. Even one as wonderful as our 2009-2013 Infiniti G37 convertible. I'll live vicariously through you and yours and make you feel like a rock star for having one but convertibles are not for me.

My issues with convertibles are, no pun intended, two fold. First, the hassle. In no particular order, they have little if any trunk space when the top is down; they're more expensive to insure not to mention more expensive to buy; they have a higher risk of roof leakage in bad weather; you can get a sun burn while driving one with the top down; they're noisier inside than fixed roof cars (that's with the top up); when the top is up they have inherently less head room than fix roofed cars; their structure can be shaky and last but certainly not least, birds can and will poop on you. Sounds funny, right? Well, I'm not kidding. It happens all the time.

So, aside from all that, Mrs. Lincoln, how do you like your Infiniti G37 convertible?

Secondly, I don't think canvas roof convertibles are as good looking as their fixed roof counter parts. Hard top convertibles like our Ininiti G37 are a different story and we'll get to that in a second. For example, look at this 2016 Chevrolet Camaro convertible. You really think the lines of the canvas top do anything for this car?

Top down is a different story but heads up, potential convertible buyers, most of your time spent with a convertible will be with the top up. Side note, the sides of this car are way too high; the driver looks like he's driving a bath tub. LOL.

I ran into our glorious hard top convertible G37 in the parking lot of the hotel my family and I were staying at in West Palm during this past Christmas break. It knocked me sideways. Despite the alta cocker innuendo that such a car makes in South Florida, if ever there was a convertible I could see myself in it would be one of these. Make mine a G37S in black. Red leather.

 

Different from soft top convertibles with their clumsy profile ruining canvas "roof", our G here is a "hard top" convertible meaning that when the top is up, only the keenest of eyes would be able to tell that the car was actually a convertible.



Through a series of dazzlingly complicated motors and scissor mechanisms, the top of this car folds magically into a clam shell of sorts and then disappears into the trunk. You have to see one operate to believe it; it's incredible  and it all happens in about thirty seconds. Going down and up. Great stuff but all the whizzing and whirring sounds very expensive to repair if, heaven forbid, something goes wrong. And you know when that happens that this sucker will stop working when it's half up (or down) in a rain storm.

  

While the advantages of a hard top or clam shell convertible over a canvas top are numerous, what I like best about them is their silhouette with their top up compared to their fixed roof counter parts. Because they lack a  fixed center pillar, what is referred to as a "B" pillar, behind the doors and a slightly more convex or "bubble top" allowing for as much head room as possible in a car with a folding top. I love the look of a hard top convertibles with the top up. I could care less if the top ever comes down to be honest with you.

Hard top coupes and sedans, cars that looked like convertibles but actually were not drop tops, were all the rage after World War II. Sadly, hard tops went the way of dodo in the mid 1970's amid concerns over safety and crash worthiness.

Seriously, I'd get this car just because of the lack of a "B" pillar and the subtle bubble top and never drive it with the top down. It's that gorgeous. Besides, who needs the worry of whether or not the top is going to seize mid flight anyway. And don't forget about the bird poop.

Alta cocker is a Yiddish expression that translates loosely to mean "Old Shit",

Pontiac G8 GT - Welcome to the Company. Sorry. You're Fired.

Bob Lutz and Company's second attempt at injecting excitement back into Pontiac's lineup with a rebooted Holden ended just like the first one did but only worse; the entire Pontiac division was shut down.

Whether or not the G8 had any direct affect on its own fate or the fate of Pontiac is debatable, the car itself was a terrific performer, styling is just ok, the new for 2008 G8 died an inglorious death after only its second model year with less than 40,000 sold.

Not unlike a solid employee who gets hired just as the company is going down the tubes; they're out the door just like everyone else. "Welcome to the company. Sorry. You're fired." Was there any way that the G8 could have saved Pontiac?

No, of course not. Why? Well, again, nothing against the automobile but its timing could not have been any worse. It may have worked in '04 instead of the "what the hell was GM thinking GTO", it would have made a whole lot more sense actually and may even have stole significant thunder from Chrysler's 300 and Charger, but the late '00's were brutal economic times. What with a woe begotten economy along with GM going down the drain, nothing short of the reincarnation of the 1964 1/2 Mustang could have saved Pontiac let alone the "Old GM". Y'know, let's be honest, that wouldn't have helped either. GM was that far gone.

What's ironic is that for a company that got repeatedly lambasted for selling junk years prior, at the end of their [first] life, they sure got serious about pushing iron out their doors that could really bring it. This car is a first rate performer and was screwed together pretty well too.

Another ding in the G8's fender was that consumer tastes were also well on their way towards moving away from "conventional" automobiles by 2008. Pontiac needed a vehicle that either totally redefined a segment or a vehicle that could create a mass appeal niche. What may have worked five years prior, even if the economy was not in the toilet, was not going to work by the time "Bob" rebadged at Holden Commodore and called it "G8".

So, instead of a game changer, this is what they came up with. A very good imitation of a BMW not to mention a rehash of the same ole 3 box sedan we'd seen over and over again. They were even planning on a Chevrolet El Camino esque version as well. Had they learned nothing from the SSR? 

If you've ever worked for a company and seriously doubted whether or not the folks upstairs had a clue as to what they were doing, as we've discussed time and time again, the GM of the '00's was that company. As if the well compensated and soon to be out the door suits upstairs cared. Incidentally, Mr. Lutz pulled the rip chord on his golden parachute as he didn't survive GM's reorg.  

2004 Chrysler Pacifica - They Love Their Buckeyes In Ohio

If there was ever a minivan that I thought I could own based solely on the way it looks, it would have been Chrysler's 2004 vintage Pacifica.  I'd never driven one until Christmas break in South Florida so you could imagine my child like fervor as I fumbled with the keys to this Pacifica that was loaned to my mother in law by her wonderful neighbors. It was also an opportunity for me to get a break from the droning that was our CVT equipped Patriot.

Years ago the Pacifica, that's one helluva cool name by the way, debuted as one of the world's first "cross overs", complete with available All Wheel Drive. Our Pacifica here is actually a Columbus, Ohio based vehicle so that would explain the AWD drive option. You don't see many AWD anything in tropical South Florida. Also explains the OSU front licence plate. They love their Buckeyes in Ohio.

Chrysler billed the Pacifica as a "Sports Tourer", not a mini van; their attempt years ago to market a mini van that was not, allegedly, a mini van. Like station wagons of yore, a stigma apparently had developed about mommymobiles and the Pacifica was going to change that. I never understood why anyone would be hesitant about showing off that they had a family but perhaps that's just me. Stylistically it worked beautifully; this is a good looking whatever it is.

Powered by no less than Chrysler's at one time heroically powerful 3.5 liter, SOHC, 24 valve V-6, the Pacifica was, get this, slower than the Patriot we rented. Toting 250 horsepower, how could that be? Seriously, this thing was so stuck in the mud slow that I thought that something was either wrong with the engine or that the emergency brake was stuck on.

Nope. No such luck. Plain and simple the Pacifica had a weight problem; 4700 pounds of weight problem. Let's put that in perspective - my old man's 1972 Cadillac De Ville weighed 4700 pounds and that was considered massively heavy back then. 2 1/2 tons, that's a lot of weight to off set and Chrysler probably should have had at least their 4.7 liter OHC V-8 under hood not to mention a transverse mounted HEMI V-8. That would have been interesting, don't ya think?

No dice. Shoe horning in a V-8 would have required modifying the minivan chassis that the Pacifica rides on. Shame too since aside from the very sluggish engine I kind of liked the Pacifica and for more reasons than just its handsome good looks. By the way, try as they might have, the Pacifica is and was a minivan. It rode down the same assembly line as other Chrysler mini vans and despite some hacking and sawing, it's got for all intents and purposes the same chassis. Not unlike Honda using their Odyssey chassis for their fabulous Pilot and Acura MDX. Oh, and there has never been a V-8 powered mini van. Seeing that the world has gone turbo in line 4 crazy these days, it would appear that there never will be. Even V-6 engines are on the lamb it would seem.



Contemporary road tests, which were very kind over all to it, described the Pacifica's acceleration as "relaxed" in AWD Pacifica models so I know it was not just me finding this thing as slow as a brick. By 2017 standards this now thirteen year old Pacifica  made the wonky CVT Patriot seem down right sporty by comparison. Side note, can you believe that 2004 was now thirteen years ago?

Inside, I wasn't a fan of this overly complex HVAC and radio "stack"; too many damn buttons. The AC blew very cold air but it was extremely noisy doing so, it sounded like a ShopVac. Black on black in South Florida sun, even in December, was akin to sitting in a lit barbecue pit but thankfully the AC brought the temperature inside the cabin down to a frosty 68 degrees in a hurry. Even our 18 year old sitting out back in the third row felt compelled to look up from his phone for a half a second to tell us that he thought the cabin was plenty "chill". His words.

The Pacifica had smooth, if not numb handling and the brakes scrubbed off what if any speed I was able to garner. Traffic in Jupiter in winter time is quite heavy what with all the snowbirds escaping the tundra that is the northern reaches of the country and beyond. Lots of Canadians down there btw. Nicest people. You get any vehicle up to anything above 15 miles per hour along its clogged roadways and you feel like you're at the 500.

The throne like seats were very comfortable and the sound system, despite it's complexity sounded great.

Perhaps I'm a sucker for speed or still a child at heart but I couldn't wait to get my hands back on our little Patriot as soon as possible. What's more, when we got back to Cleveland I wanted to kiss the plastic engine cover on our Vortec 5300 powered Chevy Tahoe. Amazing that anyone would purchase a vehicle so underpowered but again, that's just me.

The Chrysler Pacifica was a great idea for Chrysler but it either spurred development of the cross over vehicles that we know today or it had poor timing. Within a year or two after its introduction, smaller, more nimble, stylish, utility based vehicles began being offered by virtually every manufacturer. Including Chrysler. Those types of vehicles that are relegating not only minivans to second tier status but are endangering the future of sedans. The Pacifica, which again was marketed as a "Sports Tourer" and not a minivan, was discontinued by Chrysler after model year 2008. Ironies of ironies it's back for 2017. As an unapologetic "minivan".