Featuring: Jack B. and Bark M.
I don’t know about you, but I have always loved woody station wagons. And with the advent of tippy-toed, ill-handling crossovers, three-quarters of which are ugly enough to scare a bulldog off of a meat wagon, I love them more than ever.
Like this top of the line, Di-Noc clad, bechromed Plymouth from The Year Of Our Lord, 1973. Sure, it’s massive. Sure, it’s a goner in any impact with a 2000-up motor vehicle with crush zones and dual airbags. But look at her. She’s gorgeous!
Note: Another post from my friend, Mike Batch Kirouac! -TK
On the Saturday before Christmas of 2012, my son and I went into town to pick up some last minute items for supper at the grocery store. As we walked through the parking lot, a beautiful, shiny white ’65 Plymouth Satellite rolled in, drove past us, and parked at the back of the lot. The burble of the engine told me it had a hopped-up big block.
The VIP displaced the Sport Fury as the top big Plymouth in 1966, one year after the LTD and Caprice. And just like its competition, the VIP had the soon-to-be-typical chrome additions, plusher interior, vinyl roof and wood-grained dash and door panels. Although clearly a member of the Fury line, the VIP received its own special brochure apart from the Sport Fury and Furys III, II and I. Initially available only as a four-door hardtop (a hardtop coupe came later), it was marketed as a Plymouth for folks who wanted the finer things in life. Despite gilding the lily of the already well-equipped Sport Fury, the VIP looked as good as any of the other 1966 Mopar full-sizers, thanks to design chief Elwood Engel’s attractive square-rigged styling.
But only about 12,000 were built, compared to over 100,000 LTDs and 181,000 Caprices. And while it was, in your author’s opinion, as attractive and well-appointed as its cross-town rivals, it never broke 20,000 units during its existence from 1966 to 1969. A shame.
But new plans were afoot for the ’67 model year. While the ’66 Plymouths were most attractive in your author’s opinion, their squared-off styling was a little out of style with the advent of GM’s swoopy 1965 Chevrolets.
A Valiant Brougham? Like jumbo shrimp and military intelligence, it may seem like something of a contradiction in terms. The Valiant, a standalone marque in its first year of existence, a Plymouth ever after, always stood for simple operation, low cost and staid reliability. And Brougham has always stood for, well, Brougham. Excess. Plush, over the top luxury, usually involving velour.
But Peak Brougham was in the mid-’70s, so why not offer a dolled-up version? Heck, FoMoCo was cranking out luxury décor option Pintos and Mavericks. So why not?
The Valiant Brougham came out in 1974, as a mid-year addition I believe. It included a plush velour interior with upgraded carpet, additional sound proofing and other details. Brougham identification graced the C-pillars, of course. They also received the deluxe woodgrained and chrome-festooned instrument panel, and an attractive steering wheel with what has to be one of the last horn rings ever installed on a car.
If you’re in the market for a midsize car today, you have plenty of choices. Well, for now, as the ever present crossover is rapidly compelling the manufacturers to kill off the traditional midsize sedan. Several nameplates from which to choose–Camry, Impala, Fusion and Optima and of course Accord, to name a few. And they all come in the same flavor of competent albeit repetitive design and styling. Where’s the flair, man? Once upon a time, before safety standards, emissions and plain old public demand trumped style, a buyer could get virtually whatever their heart desired, right down to colors, options–and yes, Virginia, even a body style other than the now-ubiquitous four-door sedan. Want an aqua Skylark convertible with a white interior, V8 and four-speed? Done! How about a red Lark Wagonaire with a red interior, 350 McKinnon (nee GM) V8, power retractable roof over the cargo area, and automatic transmission? No problem. You could have those cars and everything in between–in 1965. Everything from cheapskate beige two-door post with manual everything to fully loaded sports convertible with a fire-breathing powerplant. So let’s set the way-back machine to Autumn 1964 and see what we can get.
This past Friday, I attended the monthly Classy Chassy car club’s cruise night out at Coral Ridge Mall. I enjoy this show very much. It is held the last Friday of the month from May through September, and I’ve seen some pretty cool cars there.
1975 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight Regency
The best part is the variety. Sure, some cars I see frequently, but there are cars I will see once, and never again. You really never know what will be on hand! I like that. Especially since many of our local shows are attended by the usual suspects. When you’ve seen the same red 2002 Mustang V6 with Cobra badges, belly-button me-too Resale Red hot rods and various and sundry brand-spanking-new muscle cars, variety is a most welcome antidote!
Valiant. Speak the name to anyone who grew up in the Sixties and it will almost certainly prompt a ton of memories, both good and bad: “Oh, my Aunt Becky and Uncle Sid had one, it was the toughest car they ever had!” Or, “I drove one in high school, got it for $100 off a shady used car lot and it was the dullest, slowest car I ever owned!” In approximately 95% of these circumstances, these memories will be prefaced by the words Plymouth Valiant–and indeed, Valiants were Plymouths from 1961 through 1976–but not in its inaugural year in 1960. Yes, 1960, a Buck Rogers year for sure! It was also The Year Of The Compacts: Corvair, Falcon, and of course, Valiant.
It’s funny, ever since I stopped regularly writing two years or so ago, I keep stumbling on old photo files and finding cars shot years ago that I totally forgot about. Whenever I see an interesting old car, I get all excited and think “I will write this up tonight! It’s so cool!” Then three or four years go by. Such is the case with this 1969 full-size Plymouth. Continue Reading →