Oldsmobile Jetfire Turbo Rocket - It's Five O'clock Somewhere

We all have things in our attics, garages or basements we don't want to simply throw out or give away thinking they might be worth something. How else to explain why someone would think this 1962 Oldsmobile "Jetfire Turbo Rocket" would be worth $600. 

If anything, this is an interesting chunk of automobile history given that is one of the first turbochargers ever offered on an automobile. For 1962, Oldsmobile bolted this to their alloy, "Rockette" 215-cubic inch V-8 they first introduced on their new-for-1961, "F-85" compact. 

At about the same time, Chevrolet also introduced a turbo on a version of their rear-engine, air-cooled, flat-six Corvair. Depending on what you read, pundits of both claim their turbo came first. Does it really matter given they were both GM developments? 

At the risk of oversimplification, a turbocharger is a compressor driven by an engine's exhaust that forces compressed air into an engine to improve its performance. A "super" charger does essentially the same thing but it differs from a turbo in that it's driven by a pully on the engine. Turbocharging was nothing new by the early 1960's, they had been used on gas and diesel industrial engines for years prior, but the Oldsmobile Jetfire and Chevrolet Corsair where the first mass produced cars to use them. 

And to have one to say nothing of two GM products feature them at the same time speaks to how forward thinking GM was in the early 1960's. They weren't perfect, though. In fact, far from it. Especially our Jetfire Turbo here that required an ethanol and distilled water mixture to prevent pre-ignition in the 10.5:1, high-compression 215 engine. Many a Jetfire owner would neglect to fill the under-the-hood reservoir with the special go-fast juice thus reducing the engine's performance. Purportedly, a turbocharged 215 V-8 made some 215-horsepower (gross rated) compared to just 155 for a non-turbo 215. 

Perhaps the seller of this hunk of metal took a couple of big swigs of that special "Turbo Rocket Fuel". How else to explain why they would think anyone would pay $600 for this? Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere, right? 

To build this, GM had help from the Garret Corporation, that had considerable experience in building turbochargers for industrial applications.  Chevrolet got their schooling on turbos from the Thompson-Ramo-Wooldrige corporation that became known as TRW in 1965. 

Oldsmobile had other challenges with the 215 other than its wonky turbo. Being made of aluminum, the engine had cooling issues because they couldn't determine, at first, which type of coolant was best. Use of certain coolant clogged cooling passages in the engine leading to overheating and head gasket failure. 

While Chevrolet soldiered on with the Corvair turbo through 1969, Oldsmobile pulled the plug on the Jetfire Turbo Rocket after 1963 with just 9,617 ever made making today's Facebook Marketplace discovery quite rare. 

On a bright note, Buick used the 215 Olds engine as a blueprint of sorts to create it's 90-degree, iron block and head V-6 known at first as the Buick "Fireball". That engine over the years receiving a number of refinements and innovations eventually becoming the famous GM "3800" series of engines. 

 

By the way, no. I didn't search for this but based on Facebook Marketplace's algorithms of my past searches, it has determined that I need this. Well, I'm always on the hunt for things that will give my 1977 Corvette more power...could this be just what the doctor ordered? There's nothing in the ad that says the special turbo cocktail comes with it, though. Cheers. 

 

1983 Dodge Rampage - City Slicker

The most famous and, dare I say, seminal of Chrysler K-cars was their game changing mini-van introduced in 1983. Just-like-that, breeding Boomers had their family truckster and the rest is history.  On the other side of the sales success spectrum were Chrysler's K-car based, 1982-1984 "coupe utilities"; Plymouth called theirs "Scamp" (1983 only) and Dodge called theirs "Rampage". Our Facebook Marketplace 1983 Rampage here hails from bucolic Greenville, Pennsylvania nestled on the Ohio-P.A. border roughly an hour northwest of Pittsburgh and 90-minutes southeast of Cleveland. Purportedly all of 17,000-miles on it's forty-year-old analog ticker. Asking price is negotiable. 

If I recall correctly, I believe my knee-jerk reaction to these things when I first saw one back in the day was something along the lines of, "what the f--k is that?" Please understand that I grew up in a bedroom community of New York City where such things like this were about as common as a seeing a cow in a supermarket. Well, a fully assembled, alive and breathing cow and not one or several already dismantled and ready for grilling. If I didn't "get", understand or appreciate the virtues of pickup trucks or anything construed as midwestern, again, back then, highly unusual to see a pickup used as a daily conveyance where I come from, to say nothing of how dazed and confused I was regarding Chevrolet El Caminos\GMC Sprints and Ford Rancheros, imagine how I felt about these things. 

All I saw was a K-car pretending to be an El Camino. Nothing more and probably a whole lot less. Well, it was considerably less big than an El Camino or Sprint of the era; Ford got out of the Ranchero business after 1978 although they did commission a number of Fairmont's for custom conversion to  "pickup cars" from 1979-1982. Wannabee city-slicker me not seeing these things for what they were really trying to be - an affordable, efficient, and quite practical utility vehicle with a dash of sporty panache. 

Based on the bones of the newly freshened for 1982 Dodge Omni O24 Chrysler dubbed, "Charger", our Rampage here uses the Charger's comely front end with a unique utility box aft of what would be the Charger's center-post or B-pillar. The unit-body riding on a slightly elongated Charger chassis with the Charger's front coil struts and an exclusive leaf spring\shock absorber rear suspension. With a tubular rear axle, Chrysler claimed a 1,000-pound payload capacity and 750-pound towing capacity. This just in - you ain't towing the camper with this thing. 

Propulsion was provided by a Chrysler-built, 2.2-liter, overhead-valve, inline-four-cylinder engine making 84-horsepower. Sorry, no pictures of that autobahn scourge in the ad. Our red head here has Chrysler's slushy but rugged, three-speed A413 transmission derived from the Volkswagen A404 box Chrysler used in the Dodge Omni and Plymouth Horizon going back to 1978. Four- and five-speed manuals were also available. 

Although weighing just 2,400-pounds, performance was best described as leisurely to the tune of zero-to-sixty in 16-seconds. Whoa. Most vehicles today can do the quarter-mile in 16-seconds or less. Then again, it was the early '80's, most everything was grossly underpowered. Chrysler claimed 25-mph city, 40-highway. Your mileage may vary, see dealer for details. 

Too small for pickup truck aficionados and not, I guess, bizarre enough for fans of the VW Rabbit based coupe utility or Subaru Brats of the day, despite high critical praise from auto scribes, Chrysler moved just over 37,000 Rampages in just three model years of production. Meaning, our little front-wheel-driving coupe utility here is quite rare and unique. 

Despite my misgivings at first, I've actually always thought these things quite cool looking. And if I had the room and\or need for something wholly practical and not wanting to spring for an SUV or "real" pickup, this little Rampage here might be the ticket for me. I'm not quite there yet, I don't know if I ever will be to be quite honest, but it's nice to see how much my taste in things as evolved from the cloistered myopia of my youth where it seemed anything remotely construed as midwestern was verboten. 

 

1999 Acura RL - Far Off The Pace It Set

This is a 1999 Acura 3.5RL

Japan renegotiated their trade limitation agreements with the United States in the early 1980's that not only enabled them to export more cars for sale here but opened the door for them to import another type of vehicle class entirely - luxury cars. Of course, what they would sell as a luxury car in the U.S. had nothing in common with the then current domestic axiom, albeit one that was evolving, but rather an emulation of the best of what Germany had to offer. 

Honda introduced their Legend sedan in the U.S, under their newly minted "Acura" moniker, for model year 1986 and, not surprisingly, especially considering they were priced considerably less than the cost of a Mercedes-Benz and other pricey German makes cost then, it was a huge sales success. They also sold a luxury version of their Civic they called "Integra"; a Legend coupe followed in 1987. Seemingly overnight, the notion of a Japanese automaker going bumper to bumper with haughty German makes and models wasn't such a, excuse the pun, "foreign" concept. Although by 1986, Honda had long entrenched itself in this country as a purveyor of high-quality transportation conveyances. Given that, it wasn't such a stretch to believe they could pull off what they did so successfully. 

Allegedly, "Acura" stems from the Latin term, "acu" which refers to something done with acute precession.

The first two-generations of the Acura Legend were, warning, another pun incoming, legend. Almost too much so as much to the dismay of Honda executives, many a Legend owner referred to their cars as "Legends" and not "Acura's". Seems fairly inconsequential now, but keep in mind at the time, "Acura" was a fledging nameplate Honda was attempting to carve out a niche if not identity for. Spurred or encouraged by Honda's success, Toyota and Nissan introduced luxury marquees in 1989 doing the Acura brand no favors either. As for GM and Ford, well, they may have just laid there like proverbial slugs as their entire world was upheaved right in front of their headlights. 

 

So, when it came time to introduce a third generation of the Legend, Honda took a page from European brand Germans and began using an alphanumeric naming scheme and, thus, for 1997, the "Legend" was rechristened "3.5RL". "RL" purportedly for "road luxury". To add insult to injury, at least styling wise, the new RL was not only no second-generation Legend, it also came only in four-door guise. 

Acura, a division of Honda, was first introduced in the United States in 1986. 

Although one of these bland looking if not homely sedans could suck the doors off any Cadillac or Lincoln of the vintage, we can't say the same about how it fared versus a comparable Lexus (Toyota) or Infiniti (Nissan). Although, in fairness, the rear-wheel-drive Lexus' and Infiniti's range topping models were different in concept and execution from the front-wheel-drive Acura 3.5RL. Begs the question, how come Honda never come with a V-8 powered, rear-wheel-drive sedan like Toyota and Nissan did? Because they never created one for their home market they could base one on. And the cost to build one from scratch would have been cost prohibitive, especially one that was built specifically for export. 

Subsequently, sales of the slab-sided, wallowing, relatively underpowered 3.5RL cratered in comparison to the second-generation Legend. While a still far superior automobile to anything GM or Ford was producing at the time, Daimler's influence on Chrysler, which it acquired in 1998, didn't really come into play until 2004, Honda found itself far behind the Asian luxury-car import race it all but started in this country. Subsequent updates to the RL, while much improved, didn't fare much better nor improve upon Acura's literal pole position in the marketplace. At least in comparison to Lexus, in particular, and Infiniti. 

The Acura 3.5RL replaced the Legend in Acrua's lineup starting in 1996.

What, then, to make of this 1999 3.5RL I found for sale on Facebook Marketplace recently with a scant 111,000-miles on its ticker with a more than fair, at least on paper, asking price of $4,500? If you can look past it's oh-so-'90's Asian motif and see it for what it is, that being a super well built, bank-vault solid driver that will run for at least another 100 or 200K, for someone looking for a stalwart commuter for not a lot of money, they'd be hard pressed to do better these days. Just don't try and fool yourself into thinking you're driving anything more than that. 

1988 Cadillac Coupe deVille - Just Another Old '80's Car

Bill Cosby, of all people, is given credit for coining the phrase, "I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody". I don't think Cadillac got that memo when they drew up their 1985-1988 "full-size", front-wheel-drive models that were supposed to be just what every young urban professional and traditional Cadillac buyer wanted. Coupe deVille's like this with the fake wires and optional and expensive padded landau top are especially heinous. I found this 1988 for sale on Facebook Marketplace recently for sale near my office with an asking price of $4,500 and a mere 111,000-miles on its 35-year-old digital ticker. Reasonable, no? I guess. Although there's a lot more here than just a sensibly priced old car in what appears to be nice shape.  

General Motors, Cadillac in particular, found itself reacting to trends rather than dictating them in the 1980's and the results of their efforts were dubious. Based on sales and critical acclaim for their first downsized models in the 1970's including the GM X-body based (Chevrolet Nova) 1975-1979 Seville, 1977 deVille and Fleetwood, and 1979 Eldorado, one could construe GM had a clear and concise plan on what to they were doing and a future of smaller Cadillac's would be chock full of blue skies and sunshine. Then came the 1980's and the "bustle back" 1980 Seville, the Oldsmobile Diesels, the V8-6-4, HT4100, Buick V-6's in deVilles, the Cimmaron and the shrunken-head 1986 Eldorado. These square, soulless, front-wheel-drive sedans, introduced in 1985, just another 1980's day at the office for an automobile brand that once boasted it was, "The Standard of the World". 

Frankly, and perhaps in retrospect this is only true, it wasn't so much that General Motors went too far in downsizing and moved their flag ship model to front-wheel-drive. What made these cars so off-putting was their styling; or lack thereof. They're like people who were overweight who still wear the clothes they wore before they went on a massive crash diet. In fairness, their interiors were as cavernous as Cadillac's of yore, perhaps even more so, and they could accelerate, handle and brake with an aplomb no Cadillac before them ever did or could. Especially these 1988's with the redesigned for 1988, 4.5-liter V-8 replacing the deadly in more ways than one, "HT4100". I've driven these cars and have always been impressed. Too bad they're so damn ugly. Ultimately, their performance prowess fell on deaf ears and wallets as the customers they sought flocked to the tonier and far more expensive import makes and models these cars were an attempt to emulate. Their traditional buyers were like, "that's not a Cadillac". 

Back in the day, a significant part of what made a "Cadillac a Cadillac" was not only a gaggle of luxury accoutrements and baubles and bits exclusive to the brand but their styling. There was something special about the "look" of Cadillac even if they were no better than a Buick or even a Chevrolet. Buick and Oldsmobile built a semi-handsome coupe on the smaller version of the chassis they built all these Cadillac's on, but these cars are no more, or less, than their four-door versions with two less doors. Buick's two-door Electra and Oldsmobile's two-door 98, built on the same chassis this car is, suffer from the same goofy proportions as these haughty Cadillac coupes do. 

The passage of time is a great equalizer and it also creates vacuums, as such, what is this car all these years later other than just another "old '80's car"? The poster of the ad claims it's a classic - this just in, based on my definition of "classic", which is broad and generous, it's not. Then again, in fairness, if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, could the same be said as to what makes a classic car a classic car? 

 

Cub Cadet 2150 - Me and "My Cubbie"

Back in the spring of 2017, both of my boys decided to spend the then upcoming summer down at their respective colleges. So I wouldn't be spending the lion's share of my weekend time and energy mowing my modest third of an acre, I bought this Cub Cadet figuring buying it would be far less than paying a landscaper to cut my grass every week for 8-1/2 to 9-months. Good idea and a prudent use of funds, right? Only in hindsight do I see the warning signs that this thing had disaster written all over it from the get-go. 

First off, when I asked the guy I bought it from how old it was he said it was only ten-years old; it was more like twenty. During the first summer I had it the head gasket went and on occasion the starter solenoid wouldn't engage the pinion to crank the engine. $200 for a guy to replace the head gasket and a gentle tap with a hammer on the starter to get it to work and all was well. With a forty-two inch deck, I was able to knock my entire lawn down start-to-finish in less than fifteen-minutes; with my self-propelled, 21-inch walk-behind it was closer to an hour. That, as we say, was what I was talking about. 

During subsequent summers I had myriad issues with the mowing deck and the powered-takeoff-switch (PTO) that engages the mowing blades via an electric clutch; talk about over-engineering. I also eventually  replaced the failing starter motor. All in, though, I was still way ahead of the game. Financially at least although "time is money". 

During my fourth summer with what I affectionately referred to as "my Cubbie" (when it was working), one by one, the original and dry rotted tires stopped holding air and because replacing the tires (and rims they're on) was cost prohibitive, I put tubes in the tires. If you've ever wrestled with replacing a tube in a bicycle tire or putting one in a wheel barrow tire, you know what fun that can be. Best was, I overinflated the tubes and they eventually blew out. Rinse and repeat. 

My problems with this circa 1995 Cub Cadet weren't limited to its age and things wearing out  - my semi-carelessness at times was to blame as well. Over the years my lawn has sunk considerably leaving the top edge of the cast-iron water meter housing in the middle of my front yard sticking up like a proverbial middle finger. Once or twice I did the blades no favors as I ran the thing over it slicing a good chunk off the housing. Once, twice or three times I crashed directly into it. Doing so not only bent the deck but the the super heavy, thick and expensive to replace blades that struck said bent deck. To say I clobbered the damn thing is an understatement. This is a replacement meter housing replaced at no cost to me by the city. 

The big problem then became the very pricy belt that drove the mowing deck blades off the electric clutch on the engine. Crashing into the water meter housing bent the deck so badly it knocked the pully alignment off kilter and the belt would come off and get shredded. That happened twice at fifty-bucks a shot. It happened for the third time late last fall at the end of the mowing season and it was then I decided it was time to push "my Cubbie" into Lake Erie. Metaphorically, of course. 

Hope springing eternal, this past April I thought I'd give it the old college try again seeing how when the belt would shred, I deduced it was only when I had the deck lower than the highest setting. Fine. My lawn always looks more lush taller anyway. Thing was, the starter I replaced the original with started failing, the tube I put in the left rear tire had blown out over the winter and the right-side hinge on the hood broke off. Enough was enough. "My Cubbie" had to go. First things first, though, I had to find a replacement. 

Back when I found the Cub Cadet, Facebook Marketplace was in its infancy and Craigslist, where I found it, was the go-to for finding cheap stuff you used to find at garage sales. Marketplace has since long usurped CL and it didn't take me five minutes to find this 38-inch, 17.5-horsepower, 2011 Craftsman with an asking price of $750. Perhaps more than I wanted to spend but you do get what you pay for. That and inflation has jacked the price up on everything. Have you seen the price of what these go for new these days? This would run you about $2,200 and that's not including the "bagger system" that'll run you nearly $400. Insanity. BTW, I never even looked at Craigslist.

My wife and I took the 40-minute or so drive south to look it over and were pleasantly surprised. It was relatively clean and didn't have any of the rolled-over, exploded and burned zest of the Cub Cadet. However, on my test drive or mow on the guy's lawn, the engine started surging. Me being gun shy after the Cub Cadet, at first I wanted out of there ASAP. The guy swore it was the first time it ever did that and he seemed particularly dismayed since he had just put a new carburetor on the engine. My wife  believed him and she read my mind that I didn't think the surging was a big deal but I didn't want the thing at $750. She pounced asking him if he was willing to part with it for less and he asked sheepishly, "four-hundred?". Sold. He even dropped it off at my house. Such a deal.  

I listed the Cub Cadet for sale on Marketplace for $150 and the next day a guy picked it up (above) no questions asked. Apparently, "Cub Cadet" really means something to some people. Especially "real" Cub Cadet garden/lawn tractors like mine and not the badge jobs YTD or MTD sold as "Cub Cadets" after Cub Cadet sold the naming rights to them for small tractors. John Deere did the same thing. Side note, new John Deere ride-on mowers now come with plastic hoods and their steel bodies are flimsy.  Sad. 

Best was, a simple adjustment on the carburetor cured this thing of any and all engine surging issues. Net out of pocket, with the sale of the Cub Cadet, was $250.  And I would have had to put at least that much money into the Cub Cadet this year to get it going. It's going to be a pleasant summer of mowing. 

In hindsight, I shouldn't have bought "my Cubbie" in the first place, but if you don't have any regrets in life, have you really lived? 

 

1990 Oldsmobile 88 Royale - It is What it Is

As far as my being an automobile enthusiast goes, and the definition of which is as wide as the gulf between the earth and stars, born in 1964 means I was born either a decade late or early. Born late implying I missed out on the golden age of the muscle and pony car party. Born too soon meant I grew up square into the teeth of the great downsizing epoch. Although, he swallows hard,  I'm technically a "Boomer" (I identify as Gen X), I had a front row seat witnessing the shrink-raying of the Great (Big) American Automobile of which this 1990 Oldsmobile 88 Royale was part in parcel. Write about you know; isn't that what they say? 

Introduced for model-year 1986, the Oldsmobile 88 and it's kissin' cousin Buick LeSabre were far more a radical departure than General Motors' much ballyhooed 1977 downsized wares were. With front-wheel-drive, rack-and-pinion steering and transverse-mounted, port-fuel injected V-6 engines, in the broadest sense possible, they really made the darling class of '77 out to be what they really were - just somewhat shrunken versions of what GM had been pushing out since they went to all-steel bodies in the early '30's. 

Contemporary road tests were generally good; a stark turnabout from the acidic, damning with faint praise (if that) prose auto scribes had been ejaculating for years about domestic cars. They lauded their efficient interior packaging although being almost five-inches less wide than what they replaced, they chastised GM for calling them six-passenger conveyances. Perhaps in a pinch but on a long haul the middle seat rear passenger at least would be as uncomfortable as anyone who ever had to sit on "The Hump" in rear-wheel-drivers. These cars still had a hump for the exhaust to pass under, but it was more like a bump rather than a full-on hump. 

On the plus side of the ledger, these cars could handle, brake and accelerate with an aplomb heretofore never seen before in an American car. They were also bolted, screwed and glued together far better than American cars had been in years. As good as what came ashore from Honda, Toyota and Nissan? Well, let's not get carried away here. 

If anything, and, yes, this is subjective, their styling came up short. Way short. Even the coupe versions of these cars, Buick had one too, while more interesting to look at than these sedans, have a semi-awkwardness to them. Like folks whose doctors told them, "lose weight or die" and crash diet to the point they're unrecognizable. Good thing those folks feel better and their vitals are fantastic. 

My first experience with one of these was in the fall of 1987 when my father rented one of these.  Damning the rental agreement forbidding those under twenty-five from driving it, I grabbed the keys for a good old-fashioned "stab and steer". Despite having all of 165-horsepower and 220-pounds of torque, I thought the 3,300-lb little 88 took off like a literal "Olds Rocket". Helped that I continually nailed the gas through the fire wall but still, compared to the hoary "307" in my '82 Buick Riviera, it was then and there I fell in love with the "3800".  That 88's responsive handling and "stop-right-now" brakes were also quite fetching - it was a fun experience that waxing nostalgic about it now, probably wasn't nearly as great as I remember it as being, but , again, everything is relative. 

It's somewhat ironic, however, that these cars haven't appreciated in value. This blue-on-blue 1990 88 with a scant 60,000-miles on its analog ticker is for sale on Facebook Marketplace at dealership in Cleveland, Ohio for $5,800. That's a good thousand-bucks more than you'd pay privately, but you know a 1985 Olds 88, the last year Oldsmobile offered the old B-body, class of 1977 rear-wheel-driver, in this kind of shape with this few miles on it would have an asking price of twice that. Two-door versions a good ten- to twenty-percent more. 

Why's that? Well, that's a question only a non-automobile enthusiast would or could ask. There are some things in life that simply are and we have to accept. Mind you, that doesn't make it wrong or right; it is what it is. 

 

1971 Mercury Marquis - Saturday Morning Cartoons

I blame my first car, a 1974 Mercury Comet four-door sedan, for my general disdain of four-door cars.  However, if I had to have a four-door, I'd like it to be a "hard top" like this 1971 Mercury Marquis I found for sale on Facebook Marketplace recently. The term "hardtop" denotes any car that lacks a center pillar or post and is derived from the look of convertibles, usually ones with just two-doors, with their top up. 

That's not to say I like this car. In addition to it being a four-door, I've never been much of a Ford girl although a Mustang or Thunderbird or two or three could rock my world. And as I get older, my appreciation for the squishy land yachts of my youth is waning. Still, for some reason I felt it my duty to blog about this '71 for no other reason than, again, as I've gotten older, I feel the ever widening "canyon of time" separating the present from my childhood. Here's to representing us kids who remember Kent State, the Paris Peace Accords, Nixon resigning and washed it all down with our faces glued to a small black and white TV watching Saturday morning cartoons. 

The bulk of my childhood was spent, and in more ways than one, "looking up" at the luxury leviathans like this huge Merc. And it is in fact huge - just over 224-inches long and that's without the clodhopper safety bumpers the government mandated starting out front in 1973 and back in '74. My tenderest of tender years spent in my father's literally rental-grade, 1968 Ford Ranch Wagon. A car so bare bones it had laminate flooring. At least it had seat belts not that we ever used them. Then again, they were federally mandated.   

All Mercury's and especially their top-of-the-line model was always a curiosity to me - why'd they bother? Ford had their plush LTD, upon which it was always based, and they were sold along side the tonier and more expensive Lincoln equivalent to the LTD. For the most part, "Mercury's" were little more than gussied up Fords but their being bundled or partnered with Lincoln at least gave them a veneer of prestige. My first car was a 1974 Mercury Comet (sedan, ugh!) and with its one or two "Lincoln-Mercury" badges, I kidded myself I was driving something more than a Ford Maverick. 

Was this Marquis more than an LTD or less than a Lincoln Continental that shared its frame, albeit with a scooch longer wheelbase? Of course not. Same with Cadillac's of the vintage that were no more than Oldsmobile's or Buick's. Throw in the Pontiac Bonneville\Grand Ville and Chevrolet Caprice while you're at it too. What this is then is but mere status symbol of yore. And like first-class cabins on the Titanic, compared to today's road-going gems, it comes up short. Way short. Then again, think about what the poor folks down in steerage had to put up with. 

The Ford Motor Company created Mercury in 1938 to bridge the price gap between Ford and Lincoln and also compete with General Motors and Chrysler's middle priced makes and models. Much like GM and Chrysler came to struggle with their middle children ultimately snuffing all of them out, save for GM's Buick and that's most likely only for the time being, Ford sent Mercury to the great beyond after model year 2010 taking with it with some seventy plus years of struggles to define what made a Mercury a Mercury. Through my foggy goggles, they never really did. 

About the most interesting thing I can find about this fancified LTD is that its 429-cubic inch V-8 has a two-barrel carburetor; the "2V" was for its two-venturi carburetor. The "429 2V" was the only engine available on 1969-1971 Mercury Marquis' and was part of Ford's famed "385" series of Mercury-Edsel-Lincoln engines that it's successor, the 460, incidentally available only with a 4V, was also part of. "385" was derived from the engine's bore of 3.85-inches. 

But wait, there's more. The best is, the 429 2V has a 10.5:1 compression ratio and requires premium juice. No doubt Ford only offered a two-barrel carburetor in the interest of fuel economy. 

Asking price is $2,500. Is that a good price? I guess. Seems fair, not that I care. It's down in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  You might save some pennies driving it home rather than shipping it, but remember, it'll get may 10 or 11-mpg highway, if you're lucky, and it needs to run on the "good stuff". Bonus, if the AC croaks on the haul home, just lower all four-windows for a full-on blast of unrestricted fresh air to cool off. 

Would my contempt for four-door sedans be less if my first car was a powerhouse, V-8 sedan like this rather than the homely, spindly, wobbly, six-cylinder sedan I did have? I honestly don't know. Perhaps it might be somewhat less but then again, back when I came of driving age anyone who was anything, to me at least, drove a car that had only two-doors. The fact my Comet was so intrinsically awful doing the sappy little thing, and through my eyes all four-door cars, no favors. 

1959 Ford Custom 300 - Can't Make This Stuff Up, Kids

Growing up on Long Island in the 1970's, to me, cars from the '50's were more like set pieces from a movie or TV show; it was as if they came from another, ahem, dimension. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop, this 1959 Ford Custom 300. 

That was because by the time of even my earliest memories, which are scattered between 1968 and 1970 or so, cars from the '50's were gone. Long gone. Blame their terrible build quality and lack of real corrosion protection for that. Planned obsolescence made them disposable commodities as well. 

Our patina-soaked '59 here is part of Ford's class of 1957 that, save for the Thunderbird which itself underwent some cosmetic revisions, were the company's first all new models since 1949. This car's 240-cubic inch, overhead-valve, inline six dating back to Ford's first OHV six that replaced Fords very long in the tooth flathead six for model year 1952. 

The years between the end of World War II and when this was shiny and new were a remarkable period of development, advancement and refinement of the automobile. Suspensions were modernized, power steering and braking were mainstreamed along with overhead valve engines and automatic transmissions. During that time, what one could construe as the automobile we know now came of age since anyone today, in theory at least, could drive anything from that time. Especially something with an automatic transmission. Same can't be said for many pre-war makes and models. 

Ford had 19-different models for 1959 that were all quite similar looking and all evoked at least the essence of the range-topping, four-passenger Thunderbird. At the bottom of the lineup was the Custom 300 series which, again, our humble, Facebook Marketplace find here is. 

Contemporary road tests were damning with faint praise. Critics found their size ponderous, which is amusing considering the leviathans to come in the 1960's. They also found handling wonton, braking abysmal, engines adequately powerful but thirsty. Plymouth and Chevrolet models fairing no better although the Ford and the Chevrolet at least didn't start rusting in dealer lots before being sold. 

. 

Arguably, the most famous of all '57 (vintage) Fords was the 1957 Custom 300 "Fordor" that Marion Crane, portrayed by Janet Leigh, drove in "Psycho" and subsequently sunk by Anthony Perkins' Norman Bates. More fun facts, the '57 Ford in "Psycho", was first used by the Clever family in "Leave it to Beaver". 

Can't make this stuff up, kids.