Each of the four seasons brings its own sense of nostalgia, and to me, summer has always been synonymous with childhood freedom. Decades into working in the corporate world, and in a role that doesn’t get a dedicated summer break, I’m thankful that the mere presence of summer can still conjure up those feelings of fun and adventure, unsullied by the responsibilities of adulthood. Winter is probably a close second in this regard, with memories of building snow forts and Christmas presents, but the inner kid in me is really in his element during the warmest months. Throwback treats and snacks will sometimes end up in my cart at the local discount grocery store (Oops… how did that get in there?), like ice cream sandwiches or Fla-Vor-Ice. Suddenly I’m eight years old, but holding out for the weekend and dietary cheat day to enjoy them.
One drink that most reminds me of summer is grape Kool-Aid. Any flavor of Kool-Aid can take me back, but it’s the classics that really act most effectively as time-transport serum. Grape is right up there at the forefront. There’s that deep, bluish-purple hue that’s just the right blend of colors to stain your tongue the color of eggplant. There’s just a little bit of sodium to cut the sweetness, and then that flavor! When poured out of a pitcher from the fridge, or over ice in a tall tumbler, grape Kool-Aid is best when served ice-cold. It’s the taste of picnics, neighborhood events, barbecues, and summer camp. One must be careful to continue to wipe one’s mouth as one drinks it, lest the dreaded “Kool-Aid mustache” be temporarily tattooed on one’s upper lip for the rest of the day.
Grape Kool-Aid also tastes absolutely nothing like anything that has ever been extracted from a grape. We often had grape juice in the Dennis family refrigerator. It had its own set of rules, given grape juice’s ability to stain and the general rough-and-tumble nature of boys. Grape juice was to be enjoyed in the kitchen and dining areas only. As an adult today who wants to keep my furniture looking nice and stain-free, I totally get why this rule was implemented by my mom. If I had to describe the Kool-Aid grape flavor to someone who has never had it before, I honestly don’t know where I’d start. The color’s really not as off as it could be, though non-white grape juice generally has more of a reddish cast to it. The flavor seems almost more like citrus than anything else. At best, one could say that the flavor of purple Kool-Aid is grape-esque.
At best, one could say that the GMC Caballero and related Chevy El Camino are truck-esque. I’ve written about these vehicles here at Curbside enough in the past that I hope it’s clear that I like them very much. Long before I had ever laid on a dealership brochure, these conveyances didn’t say “truck” to me. It looked like something like a two-door Chevy Malibu station wagon with the long roof lopped off aft of the front seats and with a rear divider and window installed between the front and back. I do see its cargo bed, just to be clear, and I also recognize it has a standard 1,250-pound payload capacity, according to the ’84 factory brochure. In my mind, though, a truck is supposed to be elevated, on a truck-specific frame, and also not have any sheetmetal in common with a car. There’s no mistaking a GMC Sierra for anything but a truck.
This Caballero seems about as truck-like to me today as grape Kool-Aid tastes like it came from a vineyard. I mean, it hauls, tows things, and otherwise acts like a truck, and as it is said, “if it quacks like a duck…” Still, I wonder how many times someone has taken an old, beater 1978 – ’83 Malibu wagon and fashioned a homemade “El Camino” out of it by taking a Sawzall to it from the B-pillar back. (And, yes, I know there was no two-door A-body wagon of this vintage from the factory.)
Sometimes, I have to rely on a license plate search to provide information on one of my chosen vehicular subjects. Most of the time, it’s accurate. If the (redacted) license plate numbers on this Caballero were to be believed, it’s an ’84, was built in Arlington, Texas, and has the optional, 145-horsepower, 305 cubic inch V8. (One of two, different 3.8 liter V6 engines came standard.) A three-speed automatic transmission was the only game in town. Looking at the exterior colors that were available that year, nothing approximated the color of this Caballero, though the closest two choices were Dark Maroon and Light Maroon. This example is one of about 2,750 Caballeros sold in ’84, against 23,000 El Caminos. The ’84s were the last to be manufactured in the U.S. before production moved to GM’s Ramos Arizpe plant in Mexico through swan-song ’87.
The other details on this truck that grabbed my attention upon closer examination were the stand-up hood ornament with the Chevrolet bow-tie on it in place of “GMC”, and also the center caps on those really attractive Rally wheels. To me, it’s a great-looking machine, from all angles. I know it’s a truck, and I eventually came around to thinking of these as such. If lopping twelve inches in wheelbase and the trunk off of a compact AMC Hornet can produce a subcompact Gremlin, we’ve got to just go with the party line with these utes. The ’82 introduction and popularity of the compact ’82 Chevy S-10 and GMC S-15 pickups (which look like trucks) were probably the beginning of the end of the Caballero and El Camino.
On some hot, summer days, it doesn’t really matter how much like the juice of crushed grapes the cold beverage in the glass in your hand actually tastes. If you want something sweet and delicious to quench your thirst, grape Kool-Aid will do the trick. Similarly, a purple Cabellero could certainly be of good, truck-like use during your weekend errands to the hardware store or nursery in which you must carry things you may not want in the passenger compartment. Neither grape Kool-Aid nor a GMC Caballero may be prototypical versions of the things they’re supposed to resemble, but both have obvious worth and functionality, and for that, I salute both this vehicle and Kool-Aid Man.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
Saturday, September 24, 2022.
The 1970s Kool-Aid packet and brochure page were sourced from the internet.
Nice-looking not-truck 😉 I’ll bet whoever owns that is quite proud of it, and justifiably so. I appreciate these more as they’ve become even less common than they used to be. The color too does this one well.
I haven’t had grape Kool-Aid in years, and always, it was a rare treat. We used to have the red stuff all the time, but for some reason, my mom disdained the purple stuff. Probably for it’s fabric-wrecking properties.
I think I’m going to buy some this week.
I think I’m going to buy some this week.
As you should.
I would say that red flavors probably run second to purple in terms as most common from my memory.
OMG, but the CC Effect is epic this week! Mrs JPC didn’t feel well over the weekend and for some inexplicable reason, had a taste for grape Kool Ade. I went to the store and bought a packet of the stuff for the first time in literally decades and mixed it up in a pitcher. I have not had the inclination to try it – at least not yet. And it was the first thing I thought of when I saw pictures of this little GMC, even before reading any of your text!
I always kind of liked these, and would probably prefer the GMC version just because of its relative obscurity.
The CC Effect seems to know no limits! Just wow. I hope that grape Kool-Aid is everything you want it to be and remember, even if (like me) your sweet tooth isn’t what it used to be
Joseph: That looks familiar – and nice.
Eight or so years ago my own ’84 Caballero left my garage. I had it for about 12 years. It was not a car I sought out but rather serendipity – right place, right time, right car, etc. It mattered to me that it was a GMC and not a Chevrolet. It was also a local car from the local dealer with the entire history was in an envelope I was given. The 3rd owner, from whom I bought it, lived a block away. It was his golf course car, used only in the summer. It too was a 305 automatic.
The Chevy hood ornament is no surprise to me. When the car was new the first owner of my GMC, per the records, had the selling dealer (Halladay) replace an “El Camino” badge on the right side of the dash with a correct “Caballero” one. There may have been some carelessness on the assembly line at Arlington.
When I had first read your comment earlier today, I was hoping this didn’t mean your ’84 had been stolen. Re-reading it again on my commute home, it doesn’t sound like that was the case. Thank goodness.
I think you may be onto something about the carelessness of the assembly workers, but I’m not sure that even that accounts for the lack of front side marker lights on this example! (Which I’m surprised no one seems to have noticed.)
I never paid much attention to these models (Camino/Cabello) but was surprised when we first moved to NJ and saw one being used as a flower car by a funeral home. The “Flower Camino” had chrome railings along the top edges of the cargo bed and looked very appropriate for its duty.
A big surprise from this post is that these are 1/2 ton trucks. That’s the same as those big macho F150s and Sierra 1500s, (and Tacomas) but these Caminos & Cabellos are easier to load than those tall 4×4 body on frame trucks.
As for grape Kool-Aid, all I can think of when hearing that name is the 1978 Jonestown Guyana mass murder and suicide by poison. While news sources said the drink was Kool-Aid plus poison, the drink was actually Flavor Aid (plus poison).
But “drinking the Kool-Aid” has become a common expression of accepting (not necessarily good) ideas due to peer or social pressure.
Thank you for another interesting Tuesday breakfast treat.
Yes, Jonestown was certainly not the publicity General Foods was looking for.
I’ve on more than one occasion in recent years found myself explaining what it means to “Drink the Kool-Aid” to people of the younger persuasion. It is a wonderful – although certainly morbid – phrase that needs to be kept in circulation.
A think a black Flower Camino could be quite appropriate for use by a funeral home.
And, yes, I’m quite familiar with the phrase and origin of “drinking the Kool-Aid”. It’s also a shame that Kool-Aid got that association despite it being the off-brand that had actually been used. Tragic, all around.
Perhaps I’ve said it too many times, but it doesn’t cease to amaze me how you merge personal stories into the car item you want to describe. That’s talent!
As for the El Camino, I think I remember Israeli contributor Yohai explaining how, to circumvent taxes, these were converted into station wagons with fiberglass. So, it was pretty possible to use them as cars (never seen one of those converted, of course)
Thank you so much, Rafael. And I now feel like I need to search back through Yohai71’s periodic posts for this reference. He includes a lot of great information with his posts about his finds within the context of that region of the world.
Memories for me. I worked at the GMC Truck Center in Manhattan for several years before it was closed. We were on 58th Street and Eleventh Avenue in Manhattan. NOBODY buys pickup trucks in Manhattan – or so I thought. I actually sold three of these. However, none were going to be used in Manhattan. Amongst my fellow fleet salesmen, of which I was one of seven, this became a laugh at meetings. Plus the fact that I was 5′ 6″ tall and always properly dressed, so my nickname was SMURF!
“The Smurfs” was a great cartoon! Full stop. I have spent time in Manhattan and honestly don’t remember seeing pickups around, to your point, though I don’t remember looking for them, and this was years before my involvement at CC. I imagine that parking is at a premium there, so as personal transport, a pickup doesn’t seem like it would make that much sense there, with a smaller cabin and a truck bed out back.
I’ve never been a Kool-Aid drinker principally because I don’t like sweets. I recall reading a old (i.e., 1950s) article about Kool-Aid, which said something to the effect that the stuff was so sweet that adults could only take it intravenously. That’s sort of how I feel.
Two other random Kool-Aid tidbits:
1. At it’s height of popularity, enough Kool-Aid was sold in the US to supply each man, woman and child in America with 35 glasses of the stuff per year.
2. The famous Smiling Pitcher of Kool-Aid came about extemporaneously when an ad agency art director got bored in a meeting and drew a smiley face on a pitcher.
Given Kool-Aid’s once-immense popularity, I almost feel that a modern automotive equivalent might be CUVs. It seems like everyone has one, and they bear about as much resemblance to actual utility vehicles as grape Kool-Aid does to grape juice. But it doesn’t matter because both products satisfy people’s needs (kids’ thirst or drivers’ desire for a flexible vehicle). And every automotive era probably has its own equivalents, like sports coupes in the 1980s. People don’t always want authenticity; they just want their thirst quenched.
I definitely think that U.S. sugar consumption habits have changed since the 1950s, and people are definitely more health conscious. I do like sweets, but have to watch / limit them due to a number of factors.
The smiley-face-on-a-pitcher is iconic in a multi-generational level. In a way that I feel like I’ve sometimes ended up writing my best (or most warmly received) essays based on some fluky, offhand daydream.
I also like your automotive metaphors, and the CUV definitely fits. I see it.
I barely understand why GMC built the Caballero and it’s predecessor the GMC Sprint. When you look at sales/production figures, they were at best 10% of El Camino sales – and El Caminos never sold in huge numbers.
In my experience, retail buyers barely even knew that GMC dealers were a thing – up until the S-15 and Safari van days of the early 80s, GMC dealers were where fleet buyers went to buy 1-ton stake beds and medium duty trucks. Maybe it was different in the midwest or south than it was in the northeast.
“GMC – It’s Professional Grade!” I wonder if there were any GMC-specific parts that were significant mechanical upgrades over the Chevy.
Kool-Aid was invented in Nebraska. Hastings, Nebraska.
https://history.nebraska.gov/publications_section/kool-aid/
And it was inspired by Jell-O. Which makes sense, since Kool-Aid was originally promoted both as a drink AND a dessert mix. And what kid from the old days hasn’t dipped a wet finger into both an envelope of Kool-Aid and a box of Jell-O and wondered silently or out loud how come you need to add water to either of these things when simply eating the powder would be just as good.
Yes, there is a Kool-Aid exhibit at the Hastings Museum and Planetarium in Hastings, Nebraska. I guess I have to go there.
Note that the original Kool-Aid envelopes suggested that you “Use With Sugar” to mix. That’s an interesting idea. Either due to war-time rationing (this pictured package is from the 1940s) they couldn’t put enough sugar in at the factory (and thus were basically selling envelopes of flavored dye), or Nebraskans back in the day just couldn’t get enough sugar.
Jeff, from every angle it makes more sense to sell Kool-Aid without sugar.
For the manufacturer, they don’t have to buy sugar, to store sugar, or to pay for the shipping weight of sugar in distribution.
For the buyer, there was a lot more home baking in the era, and most everyone owned a 5 lb. bag of sugar in the cupboard anyway. Last I looked, unsweetened Kool-Aid was about $0.25 a packet (admittedly it’s been a while) so maybe it cost a nickel in the 40s and 50s? Even then, that was an insignificant expense for most folks, so it was an easy impulse buy.
It also allows the user to adjust the amount of sugar to their tastes.
Evan, that makes total sense.
Except I firmly believe that my mom only purchased pre-sweetened Kool-Aid because “why would you want to add something if you can just get it from the factory that way”.
The mid-century belief in manufactured products being better and more trust-worthy than anything that might be fabricated at by non-industrial hands was strong in my house.
Let me tell you about Chef Boyardee Pizza in a Can (versus what the horrible filthy teenagers in Baltimore might deliver in 1965) someday.
Suddenly, I have a taste for some Ravioli-O’s!
I remember always being happy (happier) when we’d get the pre-sweetened mixture, with the added sugar, versus the “poverty packs” as depicted in this post, but to Evan’s point below, it does make sense to me to get the unsweetened packets and sweeten to taste. Knowing my tastes as a kid, sweeter would have been better!
I never liked the styling much on these back in period, but now I find them really desirable.
The old truck thing resonates with me so strongly now. When I was a teenager on the farm we had a Kombi dropside and a Hilux and I just wanted Dad to get a sportscar [which was never going to happen if you knew my Dad..]. Now I’d choose this over a sportscar in a heartbeat.
I never liked the styling much on these back in period, but now I find them really desirable.
*Same.* I find these genuinely desirable now in ways I never did when I was younger and they were newer and common sights.
I have always liked the El Camino and later the Caballero when I saw them. I didn’t have any reason or desire to actually own one and was somewhat confused about the need for a car based truck. I now understand that the ride would be smoother would be just fine for occasional hauling of smaller stuff.
As for Kool Aid, my brothers and I drank a lot of this when we were young kids. My older brother was always the one to mix it up and if I recall, the packet and 2 cups of sugar were added to 2 quarts of water. No wonder it was so sweet. Grape was our favorite flavor. Our house was the hangout place during the summer for our friends so we went through a lot of this sugar water. Lots of good memories.
Very evocative… loved reading this. Thanks. There’s a part of me that almost wishes I could revert to drinking Kool-Aid while playing Atari and going for leisurely bike rides with my friends around the neighborhood. But I like my adulthood, too.
I’m on vacation in Ketchikan, Alaska. Alaska’s “first city”, accessible only by sea or air. I just saw an El Camino of this gen in a used car lot with the price scrawled on the window. $61500. I kid you not.
The CC Effect is real.
I always liked this model range (1978-1987) of the Chevy El Camino. It kind of reminds me of the great 1968-1972 models in that it’s of similar size and design. To me, the ’73-’77 models were too big and bloated. They may have been good vehicles, but I just don’t like the looks of them as well.
I agree that GM got the styling right on these. The lean “Sheer Look” works well on them.
Joseph, I enjoyed this post and it brought back memories for me. Here I am with my 1983 El Camino SS circa 1985 after having just moved to St. Petersburg, FL, from the Dallas area. I bought it new in Texas and drove it for 10 years and over 180,000 miles. The lower trim and interior on mine were a burgundy color, a bit more red or maroon than the Chicago Caballero. One of many vehicles that I wish I still had, as much as I enjoy my current fleet.
Mike, thank you, and great picture. From what I can see of the burgundy vinyl interior, I can almost imagine how it looked and felt inside the passenger compartment. That GM interior smell! It sounds like you got a lot of good use and years out of that truck. Glad you remember yours fondly!
Thank you Joseph! Here’s a rear view showing the burgundy trim and side rails more clearly. Not long after this a friend helped me build a bike rack that held up to three bikes by the front forks near the front of the bed, while I carried the front wheels in the storage area behind the driver’s seat. It was a great way to travel to bike races and triathlons from Miami to Baltimore and everywhere in between back in the late ’80s and early ’90s.
And yes that’s my “1964 1/2” Mustang next to it that I bought not long after moving to St. Pete.
This one needs dash but it’s a very good running driver and it’s for sale