CC Outtake: Chasing My Dreams All Over Town

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Ever since I spotted that ’64 Cutlass a few weeks ago, I’ve been haunted (or taunted) by a flock of early-’60s Oldsmobiles. I can’t help but think that some automotive God is beckoning me to come home–and any day now, I might succumb to my longing for some Lansing goodies.

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The latest incident involved this 1963 Ninety-Eight Six-Window Hardtop. For a few years now, there have been a few You Tube videos of a similar if more decrepit ’63 Ninety Eight storming across random farmlands: There’s the lump of the”cold lamp” 394. The doe-eyed stateliness. The crisp fenders. And the knowledge that post-1964 Oldsmobiles would start to have more in common with their General Motors relatives. Oddities like the Roto-Hydramatic would become cost-inefficient foibles of the past.

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The only Oldsmobile I ever purchased was a Generic Motors H-Body; that said, I feel like something of a fraud. I’ve never run my hand through an illogical shift quadrant, nor have I twisted my wrists with the overboosted power steering of the cars that made Oldsmobile great. Then there’s the 220-plus inches of length (where will I park it?), and the drum brakes at every corner (how will I stop that?). And let’s not forget the prodigious fuel consumption.

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The rationalization of living with and feeding such a beast, even as a second car, becomes very daunting. Maybe I’ll find a smaller and slightly more efficient Dynamic Eighty-Eight? A compromise Cutlass? Granted, the value of run-of-the-mill Oldsmobile sedans lags among most GM classics. Still, I shouldn’t feel like it’s now or never. Plus, there’s profound guilt surrounding “cheating”on my steady stream of Mercedes sedans over the past five years.

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The bridge between dreams and reality, over the river of longing and loyalty, is a hard one to cross. You’d think I’m agonizing about choosing a spouse or a dog at the pound, not over a vehicle–but sometimes, the magic of metal and motor can be so entrancing.