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. 

 

1979 Triumph Spitfire - Cooler Than James Bond

As someone who detests any day with a temperature above 75 degrees, the cooler weather here in October suits me perfectly. That and the goldening sunshine, football, leaves changing color, hockey starting up and people unloading their old cars for a song before they're forced to store them for the winter, it doesn't get much better than this time of the year. Speaking of cars getting unloaded on the cheap, take this 1979 Triumph Spitfire I found for sale out near Toledo for instance. Asking price, a mere $2,500. Wow. NADA pegs this low retail at $5,350. Could this be the find of the century? 

I need to take a deep breathe before I don my scarf, tweed cap and lambskin driving gloves. 

A neighbor in the god-forsaken hamlet I grew up in on Long Island in the Seventies had one of these in burnt orange, and as far as I was concerned, stood out in the best of ways in an ocean of brutish Fords, Chevys, and Buicks. I loved everything about it too. Especially its scrumptiously cool name, Triumph. Spitfire. Damn cooler than Bond. James. Bond. While I've never driven one, I've spent enough time with MG's of the Seventies to know what I'd be getting myself into driving dynamics wise. 

That being something so impossibly low to the ground I'd be looking up at bicyclists hoping they wouldn't run into me. They're stiffly sprung, woefully underpowered with fairly heavy, vague and wandering manual recirculating-ball steering. Un-boosted brakes too but these things weigh like 1,700-pounds so how much "brake" do I need? A semi-easy although long clutch and notchy, dash mounted stick shift rounds out the old fashioned, and I do mean old in the kindest of ways, sports car vibe. 

Contemporary road test reviews of later versions of these cars, production began on them in 1962, are tactful and qualified much in the same way scribes were with the deathless third generation Covette at the time; these were crude but fun conveyances best suited for weekend frolicking and not used as daily drivers. Hardcore track work? Hardy-harr-harr. Refinement was speculative if not incremental before production ended after 1980. 1979 Spitfires were one of the best versions of a design that was dated from the get-go. 

This being a '79, its official name is "Spitfire 1500" owing to its 1.5-liter, overhead valve, pushrod, inline four-cylinder engine making approximately 70-horsepower. That's SAE net too. Zero-to-sixty coming around 13-seconds although with the top down, much like my 15-horsepower Cub Cadet garden tractor, it feels "faster" than that. 

Compared to a Porsche 928, these cars had all the refinement of a garden tractor and therein lies much of what makes them so charming if not vexing. These cars offered cheap, visceral thrills whereas the 928 was arguably the first modern, do everything exceptionally well, "sports-luxury" car. In fairness, you got what you paid for; in 1979 a 928 stickered for a jaw-dropping $32,000, you could get one of these new for less than six-grand. A 1979 Corvette went for just over $10,000 although, take it from me, a Corvette had way more in common with one of these than it did with a Porsche 928. 

Do I need this car? Of course not. It's a wants thing and you know how that always goes with me; I'm one of those people who can talk themselves out of most things, especially wanton "wants" like a frivolous weekend toy like this. But it's nice to dream. Especially this time of the year.

Speaking of which, about time I put the mulching blades on the Cub Cadet and take care of the leaves that are falling like January snow right now. 

 

1979 Porsche 928 - Risky Business

Call me bourgeois, but when I was younger, I found rear-engine Porsche's too similar to Volkswagen Beetles for me to take them seriously. That and I used to think that a proper automobile, particularly sporting ones, should be front-engine and rear-wheel-drive. That and to-die-for, space age styling more than explains my lifelong infatuation with the front-engine, rear-wheel-drive, Porsche 928. So, when I saw the movie, "Risky Business" when it came out in 1983 with a then Tom Cruise obsessed girlfriend, I totally got what the 928 in the movie was all about. 

"Risky Business" is a 1983 movie about a high school senior who takes full advantage, and then some, of the opportunities before him when his parents go out of town. Much of the mayhem involving his father's 1979 Porsche 928. The movie, which is quite good if not excellent, save for the ending, not only made Tom Cruise a star, it helped to push the Porsche 928 into the mainstream. Although it probably did little to persuade die-hard Porsche cognoscenti that the 928 was in fact a "real" Porsche. 

I had no idea, nor did I care that Porsche-files considered the 928 blasphemous. Up until the 928's debut in 1978, all Porsche's were powered by rear-mounted, air-cooled four and six-cylinder engines. Another movie star named James Dean became famous for his association with a Porsche although the poor guy died behind the wheel of his rear-engine "550-Spyder" in 1955. He may have stood a better chance of surviving that accident had been behind the wheel of a 928. 

With 911 sales fading and engineers within Porsche believing that the rear-engine, air-cooled, flat-six powered sports car had reached its' performance limits, the 928 was slated to be the 911's replacement. Fine by me. Porsche, though, continued to make the 911 alongside the 928 adding subsequent models as well over the years diversifying Porsche's portfolio. Something I wish General Motors had done with the Corvette; keep the "old" front-engine model along with the new mid-engine one. Drop "Chevrolet" and market Corvette as a separate brand too. If you think I'm still sore over the C8, you'd be right. Great car but do we have to call it a Corvette without some sort of suffix? 

Anyway, back to Tom Cruise and his, ahem, "star vehicle". Like I said, save for the ending, "Risky Business" is a really, really good movie. My appreciation for the film comes in part because Cruise and I are close in age, and us humans tend to identify with protagonists we, in theory at least, emulate. Or wish to emulate for certain there's a lot of Cruise's character in the movie, Joel Goodsen, that's intrinsically me. Or who I wished to be seen as (oh-my-god) forty-years ago. For the record, Cruise is three years older than I am, but the son-of-a-gun looks five to seven years younger.

There's also a universe of differences between "Joel" and whom I was all those years ago. While dare I say, he and I are or were equally handsome, the life Joel lived was as far from what I was living at the time the movie came out as a Porsche 928 was from any Corvette made before 1984. So, seeing myself in Joel and everything he went through I could see myself going through, as absurd as that was, you can begin to fathom my fondness for the movie. 

I was also fascinated how well-off Joel's family was. To some degree I thought it bunk but it wasn't until I met the woman who would become my wife that I understood that some people really did, or do, live that way. Joel lived the life of my dreams in a big, beautiful house in a wealthy, leafy suburb of a fabulous city, he had parents, albeit demanding and firm, that adored him, and he had a path, albeit somewhat muddied, to a college or university of his choosing (or one that he could get into). Lastly but hardly leastly, his father owned a 1979 Porsche 928. 

Producers of the film chose a Porsche 928 not because it had a liquid cooled, front-mounted V-8 and rear wheel drive, but because it was seen at the time to be an obtainable Porsche whereas 911's seemed out of the reach of most people. Even folks who were as well off as the Goodsen's. Thats a bit of a mind flex since compared to my hand-to-mouth upbringing, the Goodsen's seemed as wealthy as the Rockefellers. Perspective is everything. Then again, when you're looking up at everything like I did when I was growing up, it doesn't take much to appear better off than you actually are. 

Legend has it there were three 928's used in the filming of the movie and the one involved in the famous chase scene recently sold at Barret Jackson for $1.9 million. Get this, it sold ten years ago for $49,200. There's been a run on famous "prop cars" of late but that kind of appreciation is truly insane. Any still you see here that's not from the movie is of the car in the movie that sold at Barret Jackson. 

I'm still digging to find the 928 that took a bath in Lake Michigan. That car had the engine and transmission removed. Fun fact, Joel's father's car came from Stuttgart optioned in white, it was painted gold for the movie. Another fun fact, Porsche wouldn't loan the producers any cars because they didn't want their brand associated with a film involving a prostitute. 

I should do a deep drive on "Guido the Killer Pimp's" 1975 Cadillac next.

     

Here's the original ending of the movie that was dropped because it was seen as too dark and forboding. It does have an ominous feel about it that, in my opinion and I know many others share the same sentiment, seems much more fitting with the overall tone of the movie. 

1999 Pontiac Firehawk - Moth to a Flame

I've had three fourth-generation Chevrolet Camaro's so I know better than to think any good can come from a fourth-gen Pontiac Firebird. However, like a moth to a flame, when this drop-topped silver fox fish hooked me with a "FOR SALE" sign on it, I had no choice but to get a closer look. 

And what I found was that this wasn't a run of the mill Firebird or Trans Am convertible but the rarest of Firebirds, a Pontiac Firehawk. Means nothing to most people but if you suffer from F-body-itis, it doesn't get much better. Well, a 1977 Bandit Trans Am would but this will suffice. 

Pontiac Firehawks were the result of a partnership between Pontiac and Street Legal Performance, or "SLP", of Livonia, Michigan between 1991 and 2002. All Firehawks started out as Formula Firebirds from 1991 through 1996, there was no 1997, but starting in 1998, the option was available on Trans Ams as well. This one here is a 1999. 

Firehawks got "breathed on" engines and transmissions along some heavy-duty, race-track worthy suspension tuning. Supposedly some unique interior baubles and bits too although I don't see anything particularly special about the interior on this one - looks like the same cheap, Tupperware grade interior all of my Camaros had. The spartan-esque insides part of the charm of these cars, right? Contemporary road test reviewers gushed about the Firehawks noting that a lot of the lesser model's inherent crudeness had been sorted out. 

When we lived in Dallas, Texas, I came thisclose to buying a 2000 T/A so I know all about the subtle differences between GM's two plastic-fantastic F-bodies. Actually, the bodies on 1993 through 2002 F's were a polymer similar to what they used on early Saturn's and not fiberglass like a Corvette. Firebirds, even Trans Am's had a more compliant, all but supple ride compared to the Camaro and I found their exaggerated, bulbous styling appealing. That's saying a lot too since I also loved the Camaro although I've always thought the front-end reboot GM did on both for 1998 worked better on the Firebird and Trans Am. 

What killed the deal was the finance office guy kind of got on me for not opting for the pricy, not-factory backed and very short extended warranty plan he offered. "You know, you blow the transmission on one of these cars and it's like six-grand to fix it." Just like that I thought better of the deal and walked out. Oh, the look on his face since I had already signed most of the paperwork. 

A month or so later I found my 2002 Camaro Z28 and thus began my nine-month, love\hate relationship with that car. Hot damn best looking car I've ever had but I wish it was a friendlier beast to deal with day-to-day. The biggest mistake I made with that thing was using it as a daily driver; the intensity and density of Dallas traffic is sorely underrated. I didn't have any significant problems with that car save for the passenger side power window motor giving out but the tooth breaking ride, numb, oh-so-heavy steering, creaking structure, weird and uncomfortable driving position, the catalytic converter bulge reducing front passenger leg room next to nothing and its thirst for premium gas got old quick. Still, I'd take it back in heartbeat if I could and use it as it was intended as a weekend toy. 

The mechanical maladies on the two 1996 Camaro Sport Coupes I bought for my boys was the stuff of legend. I would not take either one of those back although if I happened upon a '93-'96 Z28 on the cheap I can't say I wouldn't lobby the wife for it. Read more about those lovely bombers here, here and here. 

I felt like I got stung by a cattle prod when I saw the asking price for this. I don't know what dollar amount would have felt appropriate for me to call on it but mid-thirties for a '99 Firebird seemed exorbitant but that's what these things are going for. I could care less it was a Firehawk, honestly. What's interesting to me is that it's LS powered, has a six-speed and it's a convertible. That and it's freaking amazing looking. But not $35,000, ditch the '77 Corvette for it worth of amazing looking. 

I haven't seen it since that day so, somewhat amazingly, I have to assume it was sold. Hopefully to someone who'll enjoy and not mothball it. I find it perhaps being sold amazing since that kind of money is solid, sixth generation (C6) convertible Corvette money. Ah, but that's me. There's always something else out there that's even more alluring and, frankly, a much better car in my humblest of opines. Such the plight of being a moth to a flame. Lots of different flames.