No Rusty, you'll never get laid in this. . . and neither will I.
Parents, we can’t control them. And unless you were brought up by the Shelbys or the Earhardts, it’s pretty likely that at some point your family owned a car that you nicknamed something like the dump truck for how quickly a date would go south when you arrived in it.
What choice did you have? It was the family car and you couldn’t afford gas or insurance, much less buying something that didn’t brand you as a tool every time you drove it to clarinet practice. Of course, playing the clarinet didn’t help either.
So what was it? A Camry with the magnetic sign on the side advertising your dad’s company’s line of feminine hygiene products? Or maybe it was that old Mercury Mystique that still smelled like your grandma even though she had passed away two years ago and your family had received the car from the estate.
So, which was it? Which family car made you want to wear a disguise whenever you rode it it?
Imahe sources: [nwp4Life.com, dziennik.com]
The parents had a couple:
1) 1977 Civic that was allergic to the wet
2) 1981 Datsun Bluebird (in 1997) that had a significant speed wobble and issues with exhaust in cabin, and a 1 speaker AM radio
3) 1997 Saturn that had myraid of issues (coil packs?)
4) I had a 1994 Protege that leaked gas if the tank was more than 1/2 full, leaked water in, and had an autobox that was dying
And my Saab was awful. But it would not consider it "bad"
It was a 1978 Dodge Aspen station wagon, bought new. 318, plaid butterscotch interior, woodgrain on the sides. My dad sold a '68 Valiant sedan he called Shitcan to buy this car. The Aspen would stall so often, we were all skilled at bumping the trans into neutral, restarting it, and pulling it back into D that we could do it with little drama. I recall doing it in the middle of a turn with dead power steering and brakes. Not bad emergency driver training for a 16 yr old.
I honed my car detailing skills on that wagon (hint: Armor All looks great on vinyl woodgrain). It was my first exposure to Mobil One, which my dad used in the 318. I remember helping him replace leaky valve cover gaskets and he was impressed the under side of the covers and the valve train looked clean and new. It was still a piece of shit.
Didn't sway dad off of Mopar's, though. He's had several since and has a Dodge Ram in the driveway now. Yep, it too has a 318.
My brother took this sweet, innocent, 1973 Valiant that my father gave him, and he roller painted over the Gun-Metal Grey. He did the sides in Baby-Blue, and the hood/trunk, a Light Primer Grey. Then he chose to add insult to injury by affixing six inch tall, poofy, three-dimensional Tweety Bird Stickers to the trunk and sides. Getting picked up out front of your High School by this thing was mind shatteringly damaging, and probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am today.
1982 Chevy Celebrity, with a bullet. (And we'd previously owned a '76 Granada Ghia, so that's really saying something!) My folks actually had a habit of momentarily turning off the A/C when accelerating into traffic.
It was originally my dad's company car. When the lease was up, my parents actually bought the thing for my mom for some inexplicable reason. (Wait, I know the reason — they picked it up really cheap because of its horrifically bad depreciation.) Fortunately, there was a '71 Chevelle 2-door for me to drive, and I had already left home to join the Army before they bought the car outright in '84, so I didn't have to get behind the wheel of it much. But my mom drove that car for another eight years. She traded it in on an '82 Toyota Tercel and thought it was light-years better. That also says a lot.
My mother had a 1980 or so Chevy Caprice that was all you would expect in quality and performance from a mid-Malaise GM product. I think it had the 115HP 267 V-8, I might be wrong. It didn't last too long.
My mother's current car is a 2000 Mercury Mountaineer. It has to be one of the worst "modern" SUVs. She got it used and got a deal because nobody wanted an AWD version in Georgia. It rides worse than a 1-ton pickup, is cramped on the inside, and has thin seats that are uncomfortable after about 2 minutes. The 3rd row seating should be reserved for those you want to torture. I compare this Mountaineer to my wife's comparable, but MUCH better, TrailBlazer (2WD) and wonder how Ford ever sold any of these things.
My dad has a Dodge Caliber as a company car, does that count?
The '94 Chrysler Town & Country, bought used, ate two transmissions as well as losing its sliding door while visiting my grandmother's cousins in Georgia.
*CLUNK* Hi! We're the relatives from West Virginia!
Skitter's full!
So if Georgians look down on West Virginians as hillbillies, who do West Virginians look down on? New Jersey?
Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi…in alphabetical order.
It's hard to top the door imagery, but my family also had the pleasure of Chrysler minivan ownership. On a trip to Tahoe in our '86 version, the head gasket blew about 150 miles out. Then there was a series of short sprints to get close enough so that the tow truck would take us TOWARD the vacation instead of away from it. Wound up crossing the Sierras in the cab of an Iveco wrecker–great fun for a ten-year old.
We also had a Volkswagen Quantum wagon, which was the Audi of Volkswagens (unreliable AND expensive to repair). But at least it had a five-speed.
Probably a tossup between a Fiat 131 (I don't remember the year but it must have been early because it was before it was marketed in the U.S. as a Super Brava) and a 1977 Caprice.
The Fiat stuck around for a year and spent as much time in the shop as the 911S that replaced it, while delivering far less fun.
The Caprice was a lovable tuna boat with a massive (!) 5 liter engine and a tendency to stall when turning right. It was triple black with no AC, which was okay in Seattle but untenable in SoCal.
1977 AMC Pacer Station Wagon. It radiated such dorkyness that I insisted on walking to high school in all but the harshest weather. Even then, I demanded to dropped off 2 blocks from school.
Depends on the definition of
isworst. Mechanically worst, as in most likely to explode in a cloud of steam, smoke, metal shavings and viscous fluids, would have been damned near everything my brother owned prior to his 30s: Various clapped out early '60s-mid '70s Beetles, an RX-3 with floor pan holes that would have scared Fred Flintstone, 1980 Cutlass that idled like a Kenworth Diesel and, if you accelerated from a stop too slow OR too fast, would just…stop.As for aesthetically worst…My mother's school-bus yellow (w/ brown vinyl top) 1976 Ford LTD wins the prize for me. In retrospect, it's not the worst I've ever seen, but the combination of the poor color choice, the sheer mass of the beast ('specially to the elementary-school version of myself) and the fact that it replaced a '67 Camaro that could have possibly been mine at some point make that damned LTD my kryptonite.
School bus yellow??? Jeez!
My parents have never exactly owned bad cars – nothing overwhelmingly embarassing, or unreliable. It's just been all very pedestrian. My dad did own an early 70's Corona and Duster as his first two cars, but that was before I was born, and really only interesting having been filtered through 30 years.
two candidates for this title…
The 86ish plymoth caravel four door. Peeling paint, crushed red velvet interior, leaking master cylender… but hey it had a pretty awesome turbo.
The other is a early nineties Oldsmobile two door that was such a turd it died in less than four months.
1983 Buick Century T-type sedan. The first engine (a weird 3.0L V6 derived from the 3.8) lasted about 80,000 miles and the second was on its way out with 120,000 on the car.
Ummm lets see. My dad was hella cool. We always had awesome cars growing up, the GTO, the string of old pimp Caddys, the old detective station wagon with the 455 in it…the horrors started when mom decided to buy her first car, independent of dad.
I'll never forget her walking into the house saying, "hey kids, I got a new car!" Of course all 4 of us cheered like mad…and mom said, "Go look! I got a 'vette!" We all run outside to see – and there's an '85 Chevette sitting in the driveway. We still tease her about that car…and I make sure to go with her every time she goes to look at a new one.
The majority of my parent's vehicles were Subaru wagons with a few Toyota pickups tossed in so nothing terrible or super exciting. By far the worst driver of the bunch is my Mom's current Honda Accord. It is just so boring and prone to wheel spin in the wet. I really liked her Justy so much more even if it did try to kill me.
If we limit it to during my lifetime, it would be the '85 Cadillac Fleetwood (FWD) that my grandma bought from her brother after he bought a '96 T-bird new. Sure it was comfortable and roomy, and had been meticulously maintained, but it had one major flaw: the HT4100 V8.
Worst Mechanically – 1990 Dodge Daytona Shelby. That thing was terminal from day one. Paint flaking, turbo chugging, door handle not handling, pop-up headlight not popping up… God, that car was awesome!
Worst On My Ego – 1985 C4 Corvette. This was our "car pool" vehicle when I was in middle school. My mom would drop my fellow car poolers off at school. I would emerge from the passenger seat, then my buddy would drop down from the console, and finally, my other buddy would crawl out from under the hatch. Everyone called us clowns. I am emotionally scared.
I've been fortunate that my parents have owned mostly functional, if a little bit boring cars. My mom had a Dodge Caravan which predictably grenaded the transmission a few years ago, but I'd still rather drive that (or my dad's rusty 1986 Accord with bad compression) than her current Toyota Highlander.
1986 Cavalier wagon, four cylinder, automatic. I timed it 0-60 … 28 seconds.
Dad loved it and wanted another.
The '84 Cavalier wagon that we owned concurrently for a while (seriously) was technically much worse since it was still carburetted and was quite prone to not starting, usually when it was bitterly cold out and you really needed it to. However it had a five-speed so it was actually kind of fun to drive.
My mother had ZAZ 965 during second half of seventies, which had specially made all pleather interior and instruments out of ZAZ 968, so quite nice for 25 hp soviet crapbox, then.
I vividly remember constant fear and need to check where the hell was the fire extinguisher as those cars had air cooled motors and fuel burning heaters which usually overheated and easily ignited back end of this car model. Later mom upgraded to newer and less fire prone heater from newer ZAZ.
"fuel burning heaters which usually (USUALLY?? -ed.) overheated and easily ignited back end of this car model."
The rest of you and your mushy-handling 80s GM products? Maybe not so bad after all, huh?
While I was growing up, my mother had a red/white Bronco II with manual hubs, a metallic-Tobago-Green Contour with a stick shift, and a Vortex Blue over all-black New Beetle turbo (also a manual). Nothing embarrassing so far.
My grandparents, however, were hit-or-miss. Sure, my grandmother still had an '00 Cross Country when she died, even if it was a champagney colour, and an '89 Volvo 244 that still donates parts to my daily driver. The Eclipse and Sebring convertibles that came between them weren't bad, either, at least not that bad.
However, my grandmother had two consecutive first-gen N-body Grand Ams before the 240, and my grandfather went from a Celebrity wagon to a white/blue Corsica to a white/red Achieva SL before the latter was traded in on the first pre-owned Sable in '02 or '03.
I was only developed enough at the time to be embarrassed by one of those cars – the Achieva. And it wasn't that bad for its time, even with its mildly ponderous styling and ridiculous name. So really, it's not that much of a loser.
My mother's first car, though, over a decade before I was born, was a Pinto hatchback, though… that's gotta count for something.
My dad was one of the original owners of a brand spankin' new Chevy Citation back in the day. I can still remember at least two occasions when a tow truck was called out to our driveway in the evening hours. I'd watch from my bedroom window as the amber lights flashed and the Citation was hooked up to go in for service.
I also remember being out on the road about an hour away from home and either the power steering or brakes beginning to fail. My dad stopped and bought a bottle of DOT-3 fluid to top off the reservoir, plus another one for the trip home. So I'm guessing he had by then identified a fluid leak.
All that, and we only owned it for a couple years! And to think he went back and bought a Chevy Astro after that… It still affects my buying decisions today.
Worst that I was too young to drive: AMC Hornet Sportabout…only car I can remember that left us stranded.
Worst car that I tried to avoid driving as much as possible: Toss up between Pug 505 Wagon (4 cyl.) and Saab 900s (non-turbo)…the Pug was a great car on drive…but had reckless build quality. Saab 900 was a true lemon that was never quite right.
My parents had a base-model 1983 VW Rabbit 5-door for many years — strippo, four-speed, no radio. It had two really irritating problems that turned out to be the same thing. Problem one: the low oil pressure warning buzzer would occasionally come on for no reason at all, making an annoying electronic shriek. The mechanics could never figure out what its problem was; I think the sensor was replaced, but it kept happening persistently. Problem two: when parked, it would occasionally drain its battery, often in less than an hour. This resulted in a heady workout for the jumper cables in the trunk. Again, the mechanics had no clue.
Eventually, they discovered that the root of both problems was the relay that controlled the oil warning buzzer, which was getting tripped randomly. If the engine was running, it would turn on the buzzer; if the ignition was off, it would drain the battery. It was finally fixed after being a hassle for something like three or four years.
When it was not doing that, the Rabbit was fun to drive and a generally likable car, but the fact that it repeatedly alternated between trying to strand us and drive us crazy did not endear it to us. Also, I remember that any time it needed work, it was wincingly expensive for what could hardly have been a more basic car.
If we want to extend this to my grandparents, my grandfather for years had a blue "Aeroback" 1979 or 1980 Oldsmobile Cutlass Salon — the one that looked like a hatchback, but wasn't. It had Turbo Hydramatic, and I think it had the 260 V8, which made a whopping 105 net horsepower. To my knowledge, it was a frighteningly reliable car, but it had turtle-like acceleration and horrible gas mileage, and its road manners were best described as nautical. It also had scary handling in the snow, a combination of nosy-heavy/rear-drive and the abrupt throttle tip-in GM insisted on giving its cars to counteract the (correct) impression of gutlessness. The Olds was a real eyesore, and I remember burning myself more than once on its black vinyl seats in the summer. Also, for some reason, every time I was in it with the air conditioning running, it would give me a nose bleed. I still remember the weird freon-leakage smell, and it makes me shudder even now.
My dad had an early Rabbit diesel. (some would say I could stop right there)
He got it for all the right reasons: compact, great mileage, supposed to be great little cars.
Having owned a number of crappy cars in his lifetime, he refers to that as the only car he ever hated. It didn't get all that great of mileage, was constantly broken, and diesel wasn't all that prevalent in the mid-80s.
It didn't help that the cats decided to pee in the interior. That's a smell that never quite goes away.
A 2004 Chevrolet Venture LS in navy blue. That thing is the reason nobody in my family has anything nice to say about General Motors. I could go on, but I don't want to relive that nightmare.
It could be worse – it could've been an Uplander. Same shit, boxier box, derp-derp styling.
1996 Ford Contour. What an unmitigated piece of crap. Just as my wonderful grandfather was getting dementia, he decided for some inane reason to sell in his ultra-minty '84 Camry (which was an awful car, sure, but at least it was never going to break) for that aforementioned FoMoCoNoGo. After he passed away, I was stuck driving it until I wised up and bough a Nissan Stanza (funny story …). The driver's seat caused your legs to go numb after about 30 seconds. The headlight switch got so hot in operation the cabin started smelling like melty. It eventually begged to be put out of its misery after ambling along for an astonishing 80k miles when the transmission firmly planted itself in second gear in the car of my sister. Built in Belgium, died in Federal Way. May it rust evermore.
Although I bought a Pinto brand new in 72, its reverse awsomeness has to have been totally eclipsed by the 66 Datsun 1600 roadster my ex fell in love with. PM yellow that had been BRUSHED on over what I would call "root beer brown" which had been sprayed over white, which i Think was the original color. I was afraid to scratch any deeper for fear of what I might find. It came with a blown head gasket and cracked head, shift lever that resembled a stick in a bucket of oatmeal, 4 different brands of tires and an exhaust leak that, perplexingly, would only seem to go away when the removeable hardtop was on and the windows were rolled up. Course, the drivers would only stay up with the help of a rubber doorstop wedged in between the glass and the door. I sprung to the tune of $300 1975 dollars for this POS. Both the car and the ex are long gone now, thank God.
My first thought was the '80 Citation, but it wasn't as embarrassing as the '80 battleship gray Toronado. Funny thing is that both came to the family through my Grandfather. He bought the Citation new and sold it to my Dad, but the Toronado belonged to a woman who had dated him. Yeah, Dad bought a car from a woman who had wanted to become my step-Grandma, but didn't make the cut.
Having no direct experience with the Toronado, but knowing the technology and engineering marvel that it was, I'm inclined to say that the Citation was the worser(?) ride. Hence my inclusion of our Chevy Citation as my personal worst car. Had it towed from the driveway multiple times and had to buy brake fluid bottles while out on family outings in order to get home safely. We bought it new and only owned it a couple years. Way too many problems to have in such a short time!
Oh, as far as build quality, the Citation was definitely worse, although we seemed to have one of the better screwed together first year models around (not saying much). But, in terms of a car a teenager wants to be seen in, the Toro is more embarrassing. Toro had the landau vinyl top and fake wire wheel covers and screamed "Grandma!" (or "Step Grandma!", I guess), the Citation was a plain white economy hatchback, but it was a 4 speed so I could do impressive wheel hopping burnouts in the parking lot.
I guess it all depends on the year. Before the 90's, it would have definitely been bad to have to drive the Toronado. But from about '95 on you could have played it off as 'hip' and ironic.
My stepdad had a thing for big American boats, which was fine by me. At one point we had a '71 or '72 Buick Electra 225. Should have been a great car, I mean it was a tank. I remember riding with Bob in the other car, a '69 Toronado, racing my mom in the Buick on I-15 between Salt Lake and Provo going 100 MPH going up Point of the Mountain. The Toronado won.
That Buick had problems, the most serious was overheating. Bob took it to I don't know how many mechanics, new radiator, new heads, etc. Nothing worked. Stupid car finally blew up, which was a shame. He bought a '63 Belvedere after that, which he blew up, as well. My mom eventually dumped him. When she did, I ripped the plug wires out of the Toronado, and he had to hire a guy to put them back on. Then drove off, and blew up the Toronado, eventually. Bob was rough on cars.
a MY1 Pontiac TransSport. Holy bonkers that thing was useless. If you ever dropped anything in the front seat it would end up in the trunk, it had almost no room, and it was horribly unreliable. What the point of that minivan was, I'll never know. At least it managed to look cool for a momwagen… for about 3 months.
"in the care of my sister"
Mom and dad had a late 60s model International Travelall. I don't think we ever went on a road trip that something didn't go wrong. Dad bought a '78 Chevy Big 10 1/2 ton pickup. My brother tore up two transmissions and six clutches in about 18 months. I still see these on the road, so it must have been my brother. My most demoralizing car choice was a '93 Ford Escort Wagon. It made sense for about three days. The other car I regret was a '03 Honda Element. I couldn't wait to get my hands on one and I couldn't wait to get rid of it once I finally had it. Is it me or are Honda's soulless vehicles? My wife drove a short bodied '02 Caravan for a brief time. I bought it for her in a panic when I found out she was pregnant with our first child. Cars and trucks I've had access to that I loved that most people probably hate include a '76 Dodge Club Cab, '78 Dodge Diplomat, '84 VW Vanagon, '93 Chevy G-20 Custom Van, and an '03 Dodge Durango.
1984 Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser. Sadly both the family car and the car I drove in high school. Blue metallic with peeling fake wood paneling, and being an early-80s GM wagon, peeling paint! The headliner started sagging two years after it was bought and was stapled back up.
At some point, the car had a stroke. The speakers didn't work on the left side, which wasn't that bad beacuse when they did work music sounded like it was being pumped through soup cans at the bottom of the Atlantic. The turn signal on the left side didn't work. The steering pump shut down any time you turned to the left.
The wire wheel covers creaked and clicked so much you could hear me coming from a mile away.
The whole damn thing was dragged around by an I4 that was almost as rough as it was underpowered. God forbid my route involved a hill; it was easier to find a way to drive around it that to try and go over it.
1979 Oldsmobile, 5.7 L diesel. Yes, that diesel engine:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oldsmobile_V8_engine...
Every 6 months or so, something on that car broke. My family haven't bought an American car since then. I understand this engineering fiasco was responsible for destroying the entire American diesel-powered car market.
Great info, thanks for the post!