Curbside Classic Commentary / QOTD – What’s a Car You Used to Hate (and How Do You Feel About It Today)?

Front 3q photo of a rusty white 1987 or 1988 Chevrolet Monte Carlo LS covered with snow, with a red X over the image

Taxiguy57 /PD – modified

 

When you’re a young auto enthusiast — whether or not you’re yet old enough to drive — you often develop dogmatic attitudes about certain cars or types of cars. Some you love, some you covet, and some you just can’t stand. Over time, some of those attitudes soften, while others only calcify into life-long grudges.

Hating the Dinosaurs

Starting around the time I was in high school, the two cars I most disdained were the G-body Chevrolet Monte Carlo, which by then was no longer in production, but was still a common sight on Midwestern streets, and the Fox-body Ford Mustang, which seemed likely to soldier on until the heat death of the universe. I grimaced every time I saw either of these cars. (I can already sense hackles going up throughout the CC commentariat.)

Front 3q photo of a blue 1987–1990 Ford Mustang notchback with a red X over the image

Bull-Doser / PD – modified

 

Looking back now, I think there were a number of factors at play in my disdain for these cars:

  1. They both had a strong poor white trash vibe. There was a level of classist snobbishness to this attitude that I’m not particularly proud of now; for instance, following a family trip to Indiana, where it seemed G-body coupes were everywhere, I began disdainfully referring to the Monte Carlo SS as “the muscle car of the discriminating redneck.” I had yuppie tastes when I was younger, and I was never so economically or socially secure that I felt I could approach things that were déclassé or trashy in a camp or ironic way of the sort the rich and glamorous can often pull off.
  2. I hated that they seemed so willfully antiquated. By the time I started paying attention to them, both the Mustang and the Monte Carlo were over a decade old, and they looked it. This was an era where the Big Three seemed determined to cling forever to designs that were never very inspired to begin with — aging K-car derivatives, the cheap and cheerless J-body Cavalier, the awful American Escort — but many of those were either not even remotely aimed at me (the late K-car had a decidedly geriatric image, as did the GM A-body cars) or were so obviously budget specials that they were safely beneath contempt. (By the late ’80s, there was no point hating a car like the Chevette unless you owned one.) But in the sporty coupe arena, a warmed-over 1978–1979 design just didn’t cut it anymore. I was especially vexed when I read that the Mazda-based Ford Probe had been intended as a new Mustang, only for Ford to change course at the last minute due to wailing from purists. That first-generation Probe had its weaknesses too, like alarming torque steer with the turbocharged engine, but to reject a more sophisticated modern design in favor of the homely ’79 Fairmont aura of the Fox-body Mustang struck me as a disagreeable corporate commitment to willful anachronism as well as perennial cheapskate-itis.
  3. Both seemed far too crude and deficient in stock form. I realized then, as I do now, that for many of the fans of the Fox-body Mustang and of the G-body Monte Carlo, part of the appeal was that they were endlessly tunable — not so much cars as cheap canvases for hooning. However, I’ve never had much taste for that sort of thing, and I object to feeling like it’s a requirement for decent all-around performance in a new car. A case in point was brakes: So far as I can think, all of the G-body cars had undersized rear drums, even on the absurdly fast Buick Regal Grand National and GNX, and all but a few rare iterations of the Fox-body Mustang did as well — the same mediocre parts-bin stuff that was barely adequate in the old Fairmont. I recall a Motor Trend “Bang for the Buck” comparison test (September 1989) where editor Jim Miller stubbornly defended the Mustang despite its inadequate stopping power and crude shift linkage, declaring, “I’ll talk to Steve Saleen about fixing the brakes.” Even at the time, I thought, “Why should you have to?” I prefer cars that are better-rounded out of the box, and I resented that Ford and Chevrolet were so stubbornly reluctant to meaningfully upgrade these aging platforms, even where they could have. (The much rarer Mustang SVO, out of production and seldom seen by this time, had better brakes and a variety of detail improvements that never made it to the quotidian LX 5.0 or GT.) The Monte Carlo didn’t even have particularly good straight-line performance to balance its other shortcomings, which was also true of the all-too-common base Mustang, with its rough, nasty, underpowered 2.3-liter four.
  4. Their anachronistic Detroit Iron vibe often correlated with some very unpleasant jingoism. This was the era when half of America still felt deeply threatened by the Japanese economic bubble, so about two-thirds of popular culture was littered with deranged Orientalist nonsense about ninjas and the Yakuza, and some quite prominent business leaders and automotive pundits felt no compunctions about spewing racist nonsense about the insidious Foreign Devils that could have come straight out of a Sax Rohmer pulp story. There were definite factions who needed little excuse to bend your ear about how they were never gonna drive one of them [racial slur] [racial slur] [term of reproach] ferrin’ cars. Since by this time a lot of Made in the USA products were downsized FWD four-cylinder cars intended to compete with the aforementioned Foreign Devils, this left the Mustang, the G-body Monte Carlo (and I suppose the contemporary Grand Prix, although I saw those so infrequently that they never registered), and the third-gen F-bodies as the most desirable remaining choices among newish American iron of the old school. This correlation was of course not always one-to-one, but spotting a Monte Carlo with Confederate flag stickers was definitely grounds for panic.
1987 Chevrolet Monte Carlo brochure excerpt showing a black SS and a white LS

General Motors LLC

 

(If you’re wondering, my regard for the third-gen F-bodies was not a great deal higher than for the Mustang, and in some ways I thought they were even cruder. The difference was that the Camaro and Firebird/Trans Am were at least good-looking, in an impractical and rough-hewn sort of way, whereas the Fox-body Mustang looked like a rental car without the silly GT addenda, and clownish with it.)

Latter-Day Rapprochement

What do I think about these cars now?

I will never love the looks of the Fox-body Mustang, although I’ve come to feel there’s a certain honesty about the cleaner LX notchback that I can respect. As for its other qualities, I find the older Mustang’s strengths and limitations a good deal more palatable as a used car than as a new one. Once a car goes from “new” to “late-model” to just “old,” much of the former competitive pressure falls away. The cars I thought were better when I was in high school are also now “old,” and continuing to press the former rivalry would quickly start to feel rather sad. Also, while I’m still not one for aftermarket hoonery, Fox Mustangs are abundant and potentially very cheap, so there’s no compelling reason not to hop one up if that’s what floats your boat.

 

Beyond that, I eventually developed a fondness for certain other cars that I realized are not that different from the Fox-body Mustang in concept and appeal, like the AE86 Corolla Levin/Sprinter Trueno/Corolla GT-S coupes or the European Mk3 Ford Capri. The latter has a lot of the same strengths and weaknesses as the Mustang (down to the usually mediocre brakes), and since the Capri was based on the Mk2 Cortina of 1966–1970, it was if anything even more antiquated.

Auction photo front 3q of a white 1987 Chevrolet Monte Carlo SS

Mecum Auctions

 

As for the G-body Monte Carlo, a while before the pandemic, I spotted a well-preserved late SS parked on the street some blocks from here, white with aluminum wheels (not the car pictured above, but another ’87 just like it), and had to grudgingly concede that the basic shape did clean up pretty nicely. The LS is less convincing at hiding its 1978 roots, especially with the landau top, but the SS has aged well. I still wouldn’t want one — there’s nothing about the mechanical package that I find remotely compelling — but the kind of swagger the SS was trying to project is no longer as lost on me as it once was.

Long story short, I’m still not a fan of these cars, but I no longer sneer when I see either go by.

So, I’ll put it to the group:

What cars did you just hate earlier in life? Has time changed your mind, or only hardened your resolve?