She wanted me tag along, to go and together to check out a Corolla FX on Craigslist. Could I look it over? Make sure it was in sound condition?
Sure, why not? By that point I had endured so many mechanical failures… If someone was to know, shouldn’t it be me?
So, she wanted a Corolla; actually, she just wanted wheels. An ’87 you said? I remembered those, sure. The FX moniker didn’t bring anything to mind, but yes, the overly squarish mid 80’s Toyotas. I recalled the notchback sedans, more or less fondly, from my Puerto Rican teen days.
A few bumpy months had passed since losing my job and selling my GTI, all topped by a rough breakup. Still, life went on, and I started dating a Spanish girl not long before the end of ’99. We spent New Year’s Eve together, waiting for Y2K (remember that?) with some of her friends. The world didn’t end and now, with the planet still spinning, I had to worry about finding work in an increasingly tough job market.
Now she wanted my advice… Would I screw up this purchase too? Careful what you pick boy, or this relationship might end rather soon.
We arrived at the seller’s house. The whitish-square hatchback was on the sidewalk, not pristine, but in decent shape. Now, what kind of Corolla is this? The truncated tail FX had never registered in my mind. Where did it come from? A car so anodyne it completely slipped under my radar. This on a mind that remembered Charades, Nissan Marches, and even Altimas. Had I crossed through some space-time portal? Was I now in a parallel universe where this car had always existed? That might explain why I never saw it before. Either that or it was just too PLAIN to register.
The FX was one of many Corolla variants. What was the thinking behind it? In the US, to replace the rear drive Startlet. The pundit’s choice had been the peppy FX16, with a hot mill that found its way into the revered MR2. Good provenance. Instead of that appetizing version, I was to test the snooze version; full harmless vanilla, FX sans 16, complete with the dreary automatic.
I jumped in the driver’s seat and tried my best at proving I knew a thing or two. Going for a 20 min. test ride, I drove the vehicle on tight circles, went up and down hilly SF, sped up (as much as possible) on the avenues, made a few panic stops, and tried the electronics; wipers, lights, you name it. After half an hour, I declared the car ‘sound’ and it was soon in her possession.
Car at her disposal, it was time to enjoy the Bay Area’s scenery in romantic outings. Wait, that costs money! Better deal with that job situation soon. She, herself, was actually starting to have concerns about said situation. No kidding, I had them too! Even my ex-classmates were wondering what I was up to (most of them would be jobless by mid-year).
In those idle days I would take short walks in an effort to clear my head. In one stroll, I came across a line of cars going up the hill, towards my apartment. Latino drivers were arriving, in fairly significant numbers, to a spot where a young couple had recently been shot. Some lady had sighted the Virgin Mary where the star crossed lovers had lost their lives. I would walk by and think–I could use a little miracle myself. Then, further down the street, a sign on a wall: the US Gov. was looking for temp workers.
Can’t quite recall if the contract I signed precludes me from divulging information about what the job entailed. Let’s just say it is a job that occurs only once every TEN years. To be safe, let’s also say that all you’re about to hear is fictional. (If the entire CC editorial staff is taken away by the Men in Black, you have me to blame).
We went through a short training phase. On the first day, one coworker resumed my generation’s dilemma: “we’re over-educated and underemployed”. Nice summary, can I trademark that? Mother bought her first house on her secretarial salary back in the 60’s, in a nice neighborhood. Me, 30 years later, owned a ’68 Beetle and not much else. My classmates? They had leases, so…
The job switched priorities every two weeks or so. The first few were aimed to ‘recruit’ more temps. My mission? To take my ‘over-educated’ self to the metro station, post flyers and hang around looking for victims… sorry, temps. Lots of walking, a nice change.
As the hours mounted on the dodgy surroundings of the station, the postcard image of the city I had up ‘til then peeled away slowly. Around the metro entrance, close to dusk, one homey walking angrily in circles, talking on his cell phone about ‘popping someone’. A couple of days later, three dudes casually chatting:
- Man, have you been in jail?
- Yeah, yeah I was in… for car robbery.
- Oh yeah, I was into car robbery too… Not that I needed the money. I just broke into cars to ride to my girlfriend’s place. I would see a car I liked, break in, go to her house and leave it somewhere…
Good thing that in those trying times the Corolla was giving no trouble, almost. A few days after purchase, while I rode on the passenger seat, a strange noise appeared as the steering wheel turned. It sounded like shifting sand?
- Well this is new. It must be a new tech issue, some item that neither the Beetle nor my ’80 Rabbit had.
Not the greatest of insights. The FX, not being a technological juggernaut, left me to consider the narrow scope of ‘emissions controls’ and ‘power steering’. I tackled the second, being easier and cheaper. I added fluid to the power steering reservoir and the noise went away, never to appear again. It was the only ‘issue’ we ever had with the car.
The car was in good hands, its used innards pampered by the sedate and calm driving of the Spanish girl. Good thing, as the car itself didn’t invite extroverted driving. This I knew personally, from the occasional instances I found myself behind the wheel. That said, this is one car I DO NOT recall driving, at all. Everything on it was distant and antiseptic, the opposite of the FX16 version.
The automatic probably had a lot to do with this. The only nebulous memory? Me pressing the gas pedal and feeling a much delayed response. As if each piece in the drive train had to wait for red tape matters to clear before acting, and the approving bureaucrat had gone to take a leak. Few years later, I found a Corolla FX review on R&T suggesting to stay away from the automatic. I could see why. The car was nothing but an appliance in such a form.
The car’s frigid ways had me, for the first time, being the one to bestow a moniker on it: “The Fridge”. Not very original, but rather fitting.
Frigidness aside, I was thankful not to attend to car matters. The days were too dreary otherwise. My boss had assigned me, along with a small crew, to spread the “we’re hiring” message to residents of low income projects. Once the real work started, people on foot would be needed to do Uncle Sam’s job. The ideal was to have locals doing the trudging as much as possible.
I had to give kudos to US city planners, where cities like SF could have low income enclaves like those we visited, and common citizens never know of their existence. One could ‘drive nearby’ for ages and never learn of their presence. It was some kind of sinister mastery. The projects connected to nowhere and there was nothing of relevance there, except housing for the poor.
On the first visit, on a street corner, the usual group of youths engaged in suspicious activities. Shifty eyes, baggy clothing, some smoke fading into the air. After parking, we walked from building to building, handing out flyers and attending queries (very rarely).
One of my new co-workers, a jovial fellow, had a full grin as we proceeded.
- I grew up here. I’m glad you came. From the office, you’re one of the few I would like to have by my side in here.
I felt… obliged?
We kept walking, across the rundown structures, the solitary parks, the unkempt streets. He kept giving hellos, giving away flyers, being the jovial fellow I knew at the office. It was his turf, after all.
- You see that back there, that green area that overlooks the bay? Man, that to us was the world back then! That’s where we played, it was the greatest thing.
Green area? Didn’t look that green, nor too nice to me, but I could see he had a point. Strange to think I had seen the Golden Gate Bridge on more occasions than some of the kids playing around us.
A middle age lady, sitting outside her apartment, extended her hand asking for a flyer.
- You hiring?
- Yes ma’am, we sure are!
- Good! It’s hard to get a job after jail time.
We didn’t feel like bursting her bubble yet. Jail time precluded her from employment at the office, but well… Why get into such details?
As we finished the last complex, a coworker walked out from one of the apartments. Had she come with us? Nope, this was her home. She said hello and walked away, on her way to the office. I had talked to her a few times at her desk, she was cool headed, professional and somewhat distant. I would have never suspected her of being a ‘projects girl’.
Meanwhile the Toyota was doing what they’re known for, to service dutifully in trouble free manner. It was a vehicle one could trust. The outing I remember most, to Monterrey, when we stayed with some acquaintances of my Spanish girlfriend. Once again, I can’t recall driving the vehicle. But we did arrive on the Corolla, not promptly, but surely.
We spent the weekend in the calm surroundings of Monterrey, hanging around the beach and visiting sights. The city’s aquarium being the highlight of the trip, the jellyfish tank bringing an eerie and beautiful calm to this one spectator. A nice change from the rough surroundings I had been subjected to.
Not that clouds of gloom completely disappeared on that visit, as our host made a brief mention of being a Vietnam vet. Said info coming after me commenting on the Salvadorian civil war. Lots of things to discover, if one reaches a bit beyond the surface.
Beyond the surface of our Toyota was US assembled, out of the NUMMI factory in the city of Fremont across the bay. Throughout our ownership the car proved as reliable as any Japanese import. This from what had been originally a GM factory known for really poor workmanship. “Worst assembly plant in the US” in the words of some. And yet, by the 80’s, under joint US-Japanese management, the car was put together perfectly.
All throughout the 80’s and 90’s, Detroit’s headquarters blamed ‘regulations’, ‘consumer changes’, ‘worker issues’, etc. for US carmakers woes. But, if Japanese models were as reliably assembled in the US… who’s to blame? Should we point the finger at those finger pointing Detroit execs?
Talking about management, my last few months improved greatly as I found myself ‘promoted’ to supervisor. I would perform my duties from the comfort of a nearby cafe, where I would review paperwork, sign forms and sip coffee, as operators came to drop by their paperwork. Now I experienced grimness through hearsay: Some operators were hounded by proprietors who wished no intrusion from Uncle Sam; others, had lengthy stays filling questionnaires in houses filled to the rafters with inhabitants (sometimes up to 25 people), sharing beds and tight quarters.
Looming deadlines approached and Uncle Sam pushed us to put more pressure on street operators. It was time to leave behind this peculiar chapter of my life. Not long after resigning, I took a walk around the neighborhood and noticed the car queues to the Virgin’s sighting place had disappeared. Miracles are rare and few in between, better to have assurances in an uncertain world.
The FX had certainly been assuring in those trying times. It’s true, I don’t commend its driving dynamics, being dull in the extreme. To this day, I prefer more ‘engaging’ vehicles. But sales numbers show that mine is minority thinking. The world belongs to dull-appliance-like transport, and their days are certainly guaranteed. Who am I to dissuade their minds? The world is too stressful to worry exclusively about loose carburetor springs on an MGB.
All seemed to be hardening those days. First recession, as the Dot Com Bubble popped, and then…2001.
By mid-2002, after some debate at home, we decided prospects were not improving. She would move to Spain and deal with some medical matters, while I would take a sabbatical and go to El Salvador, to see my father. The Toyota was placed on sale and it went away, for exactly $1,700. Not a cent lost.
Plans set, there was only one matter left, what about the Beetle? El Salvador was big on grey imports. Salvadorian entrepreneurs had made quite a living visiting the US, buying used cars, drive down south, and make a profit. Seemed doable. What if I took their example as a guiding light?
More on the FX:
An exquisite example of taking the dullest of dull cars and making it interesting. I remember how much I detested virtually any 4 cylinder car mated to a 3 speed automatic. There are few sounds more depressing than the engine’s drone as it sloshes through the stingily-supplied ratios.
Being in a situation where you get to experience firsthand how the very poor live is one that everyone should have. Whatever your circumstances in life, you learn that there are those who make do with far less.
It may not come across that way on the text, but in retrospect, I’m glad I visited the projects. Don’t know if I would do it again, but I wouldn’t change that part of my life.
And yes, that automatic seems to have much to do on how I feel about the car.
Hmm, Toyota’s version of a Gremlin.
It would be very interesting if Chevy ever got this version of the Two Door Corolla Hatchback. Heck Chevrolet may even call it either a Nova Rally or Nova SS.
A nice writeup .
Reliable plodders are always in demand, just not so much by the initial buyers…
California has the nicest projects I have ever seen .
I used to enjoy visiting S.F. in the Winter, not so much anymore .
-Nate
Aw; so harsh on that poor little “antiseptic” Corolla. I bet it would still have run circles around your Beetle. 🙂
Reminds me of the SF of the late ’80s, when we lived in the Bay Area. We got to the city quite often, and yes, the stark differences in neighborhoods was painfully clear. But then that applies to just about every city, no? Well, except maybe for some Scandinavian ones or Northern European. Stark contrasts everywhere.
Even in Eugene now, more and more.
Ha, I think I’m just resented I didn’t get the FX16 version.
Who knows? There are a few FX16’s around town. I might yet try one at some point and see if that does the trick for me. Not a bad plan actually.
A great story as always, Rich. I suspect the FX16 was actually a better seller than the plain FX. At the time, the FX16 seemed to pale against say a GTI, not to mention its RWD AE 86 predecessor. But in hindsight I think it must have been a fine blend of Corolla virtues and sportiness. Indeed, a Nova SS. Although we owned a ‘93 Corolla from new to over ten years and 100K miles, I’ve only driven a few others. A friend’s RWD ‘80 or ‘81 was quite fun in an elemental way, even with an automatic. But a ‘95 or ‘96 rental, similar to our own except for an automatic (still a 3 speed?) felt dull by comparison with our manual trans wagon. And an AllTrac MT I drive briefly seemed devoid of any sportiness which our car hinted at.
This is the car I wish I could still buy (albeit with an automatic, more on that below).
I’ve owned nothing but VW hatchbacks since 1981, all of them manual transmission, including my current car (2000 Golf).
In 1986, I bought my 2nd VW hatch, went from my ’78 Scirocco (bought used in ’81) to the GTi. Wouldn’t you know it, they came out with these the very next year. That’s been my experience; I like VWs but sometimes I think I’ve ended up with them mostly because my purchases aren’t very often, and the offerings of hatchbacks by other brands seems to open and shut like a camera lens…with some exceptions (like Mazda 3)…now they no longer sell Golfs new (just GTi, and I’m no longer target market, as an older guy). Closest I came was in 1986 when I strongly considered an Accord Hatch…liked them but wanted fuel injection which only came on LXi model that also had power windows/locks (at the time I was against them, still don’t care for them but realize like automatic trans you almost can’t find anything without them). Liked the Malibu Maxx and Cruze Hatchbacks, but they weren’t offered long nor during any time I wanted to buy.
(guess I could buy used)…ditto the Kia Forte 5 and Hyundai Elantra GT…Ford Focus (or any car from Ford, GM, Chrysler). Guess I could go with the Civic or Toyota Corolla hatch (which I guess used to be the Scion)…and that’s just about it.
I should just take the hint and buy a crossover or smaller SUV, but I don’t need or want AWD/4WD (guess a Subaru would otherwise qualify)..like the ride of a car and kind of resent the extra space that the missing driveline I wouldn’t order would take (guess I’m picky). I’m even in denial about getting an automatic, I need to change over since no one else in my family can drive my car, but I’m not a fan of automatics…not that I think I’m great or love switching gears, but don’t like driving with torque converter…I love my engine braking….but I guess age is about compromise, so someday I’ll bite the bullet and get something, but to me it is a bit sad when you dread the purchase of a new (replacement) car…wasn’t it supposed to be something to look forward to? A curmudgeon (think old is implied, though I’d guess they’re also young ones)..I just want replacement for what I have (but with an automatic).
Wish they still offered these…especially since I can no longer buy a new Golf guess I’d take an automatic (sorry)…
I am pretty sure this kind of Corolla is the car Calvin’s dad and mom had. Exhibit A:
Looks more like a 80 Civic hatchback to me given the back and tail lights.
The taillight shape of the C+H car varied, but look at the taillights on the car in the colour Sunday strip below.
…and exhibit B:
And a manual transmission, no less, as indicated by the mention of the clutch. Maybe even an FX16 … since it literally flew.
Calvin & Hobbes…*SIGH* How I MISS them!!
Rich Baron has become “must read” stuff for me, even with everything else I try to fit into a day. Such a great read about the Fridge. Your entire series reads like an anthology. Looking forward to the next one.
I only knew one person who bought a Corolla FX. One of my sister’s friends was a New England farm girl working as a secretary in Boston around 1990 and she had a white Corolla FX automatic rather like this. It seemed like a sensible choice for somebody with modest means and no mechanical skills.
I’m baffled by this shady “Uncle” of yours and why he employed you walk about in these lesser-known streets, shedding leaflets – look, I’ll be frank, I think drug distribution was involved – but I agree that a Toyota is the ideal car in which such “employment” should have been performed. No-one will remember you being there, including, it seems, you, (when it comes to driving). Ideal.
This first FWD Corolla was not at all a bad car, with good seats, excellent ride, not-bad steering, decent handling, fine economy, and pretty good pep for littlie. It was miles in front of the RWD predecessors, and turned out just as averse to death as them. But yes, a bit crap as an auto, not just because of the no-go go, but also the Japanese penchant of the time for making each change a thumping great experience. Tedious.
I just once drove the hot engine, in the next model. I sat transfixed as I saw 7,500 rpm in each gear, which I’d never seen in any car before. Oh, what a feeling! Most unlike the ’87 1.4 auto – yes, it could be got worse – I once grimly endured for a day.
Looking forward to El Salvador by Beetle, accompanied by some great writing. No pressure.
I had an 87 FX 5-speed for a few years and it was a very fun car to toss around the rural highways and logging roads around Eugene. The trans makes a huge difference. Unfortunately mine was stolen a few years back and haven’t seen it since.