More on Tripod about Cars and Trucks:
The Car and Truck Zone
How to Buy a Car: purchasing wheels made easy
|
Watching the current crop of car ads, you become aware of the central truth of automobile marketing. Namely, there's a thin line between advertising and soft-core pornography.
Witness the tempting slow-pan shots of aerodynamic curves, rugged Arizona mesas, or soft lit fenders jewel-like against velvet curtains. Sepia- toned footage of sleek lozenge-shaped cars floating through slalom courses, around moonlit chateaus, or across knee-deep mud bogs. (Caution: Professional drivers on closed course. Don't try this at home.) Carefully choreographed light glinting off polished trim and stylish accessories. Every camera shot caressing and eroticizing the automotive experience.
| There's a thin line between advertising and soft-core pornography. |
The message? Driving these models is more than mere transportation. It's luxury. It's therapy. It's turning your grind of a weekday commute into a spiritually transcendent, more than vaguely erotic, experience.
It's also about 500 bucks a month for five years (before options, tax, title or license).
But for those drivers who view their vehicles as pragmatic transport instead of fairy-tale wish fulfillment, there are countless other mechanical options waiting in the country's classified sections and used car lots. Not primped or preened, rarely filmed in dramatic slow-mo — these are cars for real life. The dented '63 Ford Galaxy that Uncle Morty waxed every weekend. The slightly rusty Toyota Corolla you shared with your two brothers. The vehicles that rarely resemble sleek sportsters in glossy magazines.
And the best of these — at least for the underfunded automotive functionalist — are the War Wagons. Sleepers in the used car market, these gems represent an oft-neglected niche in American automotive culture — used cars that can be bought for a song (usually less than 2,000 bucks, depending on your local market), maintained for a few notes, and run until the Fat Lady sings.
| "They'll just run like shit for YEARS. You literally can't kill 'em." |
As four-wheeled substance triumphs over style, War Wagons score big points for both durability and simplicity. Often coming from the days before onboard computers, catalytic converters and fuel conservation requirements, these stout chariots seem mechanically bulletproof — able to resist high levels of owner abuse and/or neglect. War Wagons are solid, pragmatic machines — built to work like an old plough horse or lawn tractor.
"You see these things driving around with 200,000 miles on them and you just KNOW they haven't seen new oil in this decade," comments our resident motorhead Dr. Will Bates. "They'll just run like shit for YEARS. You literally can't kill 'em."
When you need a serviceable vehicle until you finish school or save enough dough for your fantasy car, War Wagons are pretty damn tough to beat.
CAR Division
Drive The Undead
Dodge Dart/Plymouth Valient
This plain jane of Chrysler products somehow managed to get high praise from The Big Man (all-time BEST American bomber car) despite a stream of damning insults. "The Dart drove terribly, handled badly, and wasn't particularly fast." It had everything going against it except for a nearly-invulnerable power plant (a 225-cubic-inch slant six for the techies). If Rasputin returned to roam L.A., he'd cruise the seedier hoods in a Krylon-black Valient (fuzzy dice optional).
Police Academy Fantasies
Big Honkin' American Sedans from the '70s
(Ford LTD, Chevy Caprice)
You've seen these beauties on every cop/detective show from the Starsky and Hutch era. The hulking police sedans that the cool renagades wouldn't touch on a bet. But 20 years down the line, War Wagon fans know that these models were incredibly over-engineered (small engine teamed with industrial-strength drive train) and under-stressed for their time. By the '80s, Detroit would compete with Japanese automafia by lightening up just about every component. But these sturdy beasts still have the heavy-duty parts and hard-drinking carburetors of the earlier days.
The Featherweight Box
Series 3 Honda Civics (1984-87 inclusive)
Behold the GoCart — a Honda sedan that shows the marks of its motorcycle forebearers. My mom drove one of these little econo-sedans for years, stopping only at Labor Day to refuel. The Civic aesthetic has streamlined in the years since, but these older models handle well and always seem to feel faster than they really are.
Cautionary note: Because of Honda's current reputation and popularity, these Civics may be priced in the mid-premium range.
Inoperable Luxury
Recent Lincoln Town Cars ('85 on up)
They're big, roomy, and ugly as sin. These Lincolns are also the choice of New York's hard-driving livery services and octogenarian grandparents nationwide. The services have been known to clock half a million miles on an LTC — and that's just about ALL "tear 'em up" jackrabbit driving. An ungodly solid pimp mobile or golf course shuttlecraft.
Cautionary note: These cars usually come tricked out with power options (windows, mirrors, etc.) that were broken ten years ago. Either pony up to replace the motors and such or drive the fossil as is.
CARGO Division
TBOW — Tool Box On Wheels
Toyota or Nissan/Datsun Pickup
Vintage: Late '70s-early '80s
My personal choice for low-dollar transport and overall dependability. These little trucks were made before the import craze got into full swing, and were designed for long lives in barely-developed Third World markets. Stripped down and babied a bit, a good truck will run well beyond the imaginary 100,000 mile "anxiety zone." Pableaux's current '85 Nissan just turned over 180,000 — and the AC still blows cold.
Cautionary Note: For some reason, Toyota prices tend to run higher for a comparable truck. Go figger.
The Primeval Pickup
Ford or GM Trucks from the late '60s-'70s
A favorite of geriatric journeymen (plumbers, carpenters, electricians), these formidable work trucks can pull or haul all day without missing a beat. The best ones have the classic 3-onna-tree standard transmission and 6-cylinder engine (the economy model of the day). The Big Man still kicks himself for selling a 1970 Blue-on-Blue Ford F100 Sport Custom a few years back: "Damn, that was a good truck."
Cautionary Note: "Full-sized" means "FULL-sized," so you may have a tough time parking in tight-squeeze urban areas. (On the plus side, you can invest in a camper shell and let your apartment lease lapse. They're THAT roomy.)
Pableaux Johnson lives in Austin, Texas, where he writes about food, travel, and means of travel. He's not afraid of a little grease.
|
