“I won a car!” That was what my mother was saying over and over on the phone when she called me one day in the spring of 2005. An avid fan of contests, she waltzed into her local Buick dealer to take a turn at GM’s Hot Button Contest. This was the second go-around of a promo that involved going to a dealer, sitting in a designated car in the showroom and pushing the On-Star button for the chance to win a new car. And nobody was more surprised than my mother when she won. The deal – a new base-level example of the least expensive model offered by the dealer where she entered – in this case a 2006 Buick Lacrosse. The car would be built to order, with her choice of color and any options she might wish to add (at her expense, of course). What went along with her windfall was that her 1993 Crown Victoria would need a home.
I vividly remembered when she bought the Crown Vic in the summer of 1993. The moment I first drove it, I fell out of love with the 1985 Crown Vic I had just bought from her. The 1993 may not have been the most beautiful car in the world, but then again they had been thin in the dealer lots when she bought it. It was an unusual color that Ford called Dark Cranberry, a really dark kind of purplish-maroon, that got either more or less purple depending on the light and the state of waxedness. I was also a little sorry that Mom had not bought a ’92 because I never liked the grille Ford added for 1993. But from the driver’s seat it was much of what I had traditionally loved in a big car.
The 4.6 was responsive in a way that I had not experienced since my ’68 Chrysler. Beyond that, the suspension setup was the best I had experienced in a big car since my ’77 New Yorker. Where the ’85 Vic had been a floaty marshmallow of a car, the ’93 was taut and could cash the (moderately sized) checks that the engine could write. And best of all, the electronically shifted AOD-E operated the way transmissions were supposed to, with smooth shifts just when you wanted them. “Of course I’ll buy your car” was the answer to the latest version of “The Question”.
Our wait was about 6 months and we got the (second) Vic in the fall of 2005 with about 63k on the odo. It was, of course, pristine. Because that was just the way Edith kept her cars. It may have lacked the luxury and presence of the 1989 Cadillac Brougham, but it was far more pleasing to drive. Finally, after 8 long years visiting in the land of General Motors, I felt like I was back at home in the kind of car I would actually have chosen for myself had I bought it new. It was in LX trim and very nicely appointed, with all of the normal power options. I recall my mother telling me that she chose this particular car because it had the optional passenger-side air bag. It did not, however, have the optional ABS brakes in its $24k sticker price. People don’t think of 1985-1993 as an era of high inflation, but maybe that’s why the $8k jump in price between my mother’s two Crown Victorias stand out.
The Vic (as this one came to be called too) had chalked up a service record that may have been as good as any car my mother ever owned. So imagine my surprise when about 3 weeks in the little red “Oil” light started to flicker while I waited at a stop light. I pulled into a gas station across the street and checked the dipstick. Isn’t there supposed to be oil on this thing? I think I bought 3 highly-priced quarts of oil at that station to pour into the poor thirsty beast. I wondered to myself how long it had been since I had owned a car that actually required regular checks of the dipstick. I couldn’t remember – it may have been the high-mile ’71 Scamp I had owned, what, 20 years earlier? I had spent years with cars that either didn’t use oil at all or would need a quart at the 3k oil change interval that I followed at the time. Oh well, so we buy a case of 10-W-40 at Sam’s Club and keep a quart in the trunk.
Other than the appetite for oil (which I learned was a common problem with the early 4.6 “modular” V8) the car was a delight. It was nice being a family served by two “Fat Fords” – meaning the ones built during one of their periodic quality peaks and stuffed with pleasing features. This car was loaded with cool little extras like the complex double sun visor that worked on both the side window and the windshield at once. This one had a full set of gauges on the dash and cupholders that deployed when the ashtray was pulled out. Marianne was certainly not disappointed in the lighted visor mirror for both driver and passenger or in the twin spot/map lights in the ceiling. The Vic became my DD while Marianne normally piloted the Clubber. And where driving the navy blue 1985 Crown Vic (with its herky-jerky AOD transmission) had been like an automotive version of a hair shirt, this one was a pleasure in almost every way.
The Vic was the first car that the neighborhood squirrels took an interest in. My neighborhood is near a river basin and is home to quite a lot of trees and wildlife. One evening I started out for the hardware store and noticed that the car was not right. Something was wrong with the gas pedal linkage because the throttle only opened so far – it was like the car had a governor installed, but it would slowly get up to 35 or 40 mph for my errand. When I got home I opened the hood. Instead of a broken throttle linkage, I found . . . walnuts. Lots and lots of walnuts. There were over 50 of them, packed all around the top of the engine between cylinder banks. I felt kind of sorry for the poor squirrel who lost his life savings that evening. And again about a week later when the same thing happened again.
Gas was getting more expensive in those years and the Vic became our economy car – it was certainly more economical than the Cadillac had been and was also far better than the Club Wagon. It also had far fewer miles than the big van, which made the Vic “first car” for most errand running or trips with less than all five of us. When the van was replaced by a smaller “not-van” in late 2006 the Vic became our primary family car that served in a dwindling number of circumstances when all of us went somewhere together. I had remembered my vow that I would never again take a family vacation trip in a sedan, so our plan became to rent a minivan whenever we went somewhere as a family to any destination that was over an hour away. That status stayed current until after our oldest started driving. It was then that the decision was made for the Vic to become the car for teenage drivers.
Our three children came at roughly two year intervals, so we entered into a more-or-less regular pattern with someone taking driver’s ed every other year. Each of our three kids learned about driving in this car. It is funny how the experience could differ so much. The first time, the struggle was with a kid for whom geographical directions did not come easily. The second seemed to take to driving most naturally, and the big car accommodated his growing height that eventually topped out at 6’6″. Driving practice with Dad was a real social event for my daughter, and I still laugh about the playlist she put together on her I-Pod just for driving practice. My musical horizons were opened up during that period and I found some of it quite enjoyable. It was on one of these musically-accompanied drives when one of my most memorable CC finds had me saying what I had heard in movies and TV shows trough the years – “Follow that car!”
You may have noticed that there was nothing written about Marianne taking the kids out for driving practice. She likes to avoid stressful situations and decided that everyone would be better off if I kept that duty on my side of our chore-splitting ledger. I will conclude by saying that other than a couple of unique situations, I really enjoyed my one-on-one time with the kids as I sat in the passenger seat. That one-on-one time dropped fairly dramatically after each got a new drivers license. The Vic would be the primary transport mode for each of them, in their turns – which got Mom and Dad out of the business of transporting everyone to and from school.
Each of the kids got schooled in the importance of checking oil. And for a time the power steering pump developed a leak so they added that check to the list whenever the hood was up. Again, each of them used the car in a way consistent with his/her personality. The oldest was, er, thrifty. He drove the car like an old lady and refused to run the air conditioner because that would lower the car’s gas mileage. This mattered because he was now purchasing the gas. I had warned him that he should not use the power windows any more than necessary because of the amount the mechanic had charged to fix two of them. When that advice was not heeded, the failed left (and later right) rear window got a screw driven into its track to keep it up. I told them at that time that if the air conditioner went out, the car would go away too. Son No. 2 took the best care of the (new) Vic, keeping it cleaned and waxed. Both boys’ friends referred to it as a police car.
It was probably unavoidable that the car made the transition from “real car” to “beater”. When you turn three successive teens loose with a car that was approaching 15 years old when they got their hands on it, that kind of thing was bound to happen. Some stuff got fixed, like the wiper motor that decided to park the wipers at fully extended and the driver’s window regulator (for the second time). But other things did not. Like the odometer. The electric gas door release. The blend door for floor heat/defrost. The leaky power steering pump. And the need for semi-annual headlight polishings in an attempt to keep the cataracts at bay.
But the car continued to start, run, drive, stop and look generally respectable as three young people learned the ropes of driving and maybe something about car ownership. The body remained unscathed (other than the Silly String incident in the high school parking lot) until child No. 3 slid on ice and hit the car’s chin hard on the far side of a ditch, requiring a tow truck to pull it back onto the (slick) pavement. At least she mostly missed the stop sign, and a junkyard mirror fixed most of the outside damage.
By 2015 or so things were getting a bit dire. The shift collar had cracked making gear selection a little ambiguous and the steering wheel was making a grinding noise when it was turned. A hubcap had gone missing and the clearcoat was finally starting to exhibit eczema. Daughter wanted to take it to college the way her older brother had, but the car had reached the point where Dad no longer considered it a car to trust from a distance. But other than the transmission’s torque converter that was reluctant to lock up, the thing continued to start, stop and turn – and all with good heat or a/c, depending on the weather. Except for the HVAC blend door deep under the dash that wanted to blow air out of the dash vents when floor heat was called for. Fortunately, one of the features of these “fat Ford” years was dampers that would shut off each of the dash vents to force air out where it was wanted.
I remember listening to the “Car Talk” program on the radio, when Tom and Ray got into a discussion of the difference between “a car” and “a heap”. “A car”, they explained, was a vehicle that you could lend to someone without any instructions. “A car” operated just like all other cars of its kind and any questions could be answered by the owners manual. “A heap”, in contrast, was a vehicle you could lend to someone only with specific detailed instructions on how this particular car operated differently than every other car of its kind. By all accounts, the cranberry Vic absolutely became a heap towards the end of its time with us because of its many small failures and idiosyncrasies (like if it needs gas, you have to open the trunk and pull the wire to open the gas door.)
When Cash-For-Clunkers was announced, I thought it might be a good opportunity to cash in. The car was not yet at “full beater” but was on that downhill slide. I looked into what C4C would entail, and nobody was more surprised than I was to discover that the Vic didn’t qualify. Cars were graded on the EPA mileage ratings they had been assigned when new, and the engineers at Ford had managed to get the car to hit EPA numbers (18/26) that was 1 mpg too high for the program’s cutoff. Wow, it really was an economy car after all.
It was around 2015 when my law partner Rick’s Volvo C70 had finally suffered a catastrophic failure and he needed to look for another car. I made a suggestion: “If you want to buy yourself some leisure time in looking for its replacement, I need to sell the Vic.” I had no idea how many miles were on it (broken odo) but it was probably around 160k. It started, drove, had decent tires and brakes, and it blew both hot and cold air. “$5o0 and you can have it. You know the car, and I think it will last you a few months at least to give you plenty of time to look for a replacement. Just keep oil in it.” A deal was struck and the Vic started driving home from the office in the opposite direction every night.
Rick drove the Vic for an entire year without a single breakdown. In that year he incurred but a single expense – wiper blades. The old R-12 a/c system – the one thing I had most feared going out – never quit on him. It was probably around 2016 when he drove the Vic to Car Max. They bought it from him. For $500. I laughed.
I was kind of sad when that one went away. I think my daughter missed it most of all of us. It had faithfully served three full generations of our family and had given its all. Well, not its all, because it proved that it still had plenty left after we sold it. The Vic was everything that my mental image of a traditional American car was: It may not be as trouble-free as a Honda or Toyota, but it will take a real beating and keep on going, until long after most other cars have given up. The Cranberry Vic remains one of the favorite cars of (almost) everyone in our family. (Marianne is of more discriminating tastes).
When I was young, I had the foolish idea that I would be able to keep a good car forever young by giving it good care and maintenance. That may be possible in some climates, but not in my part of the midwestern U.S. where road salt is an annual thing. Even after I accepted that reality, almost every one of my cars was little worse when I sold it than when I had bought it. This was the first time I had taken a nice, clean older used car and used almost everything it had to offer, leaving it one mechanical failure away from being consigned to the U-Pull yard. I had joked for years that the Vic had been my economy car. The C4C program had seemed to confirm that. But I have concluded that true economy is when you can extend the life of a good car until it approaches the point when it can no longer do what you need it to do. In that sense, the Vic was truly one of the most economical cars I have ever owned.
Great story, and a great car to start the kids with. I don’t know what the sales tax rate on cars is in Indiana , but by this point in your tale you must have gifted the state the equivalent of two cars.
Our tax system is what has made my car-ownership life work so well. There is a 6% sales tax at purchase (which is paid at time of registration), so I can buy 9 $2500 cars and pay less sales tax than I will by buying 1 $25000 car.
Then there is the annual excise tax which we pay when renewing license plates. It is based on the car’s value, so plates on a new car cost several hundred bucks each year, while plates on a 10+ year old car cost maybe $35. I know that other states or countries use different tax systems so my methods might not work as well in other locales.
These were terrific cars, having owned a well-loved ’92.
It’s when cars reach the point of where you described the Vic is when one learns what is truly important in a car. It always started. It always got you there. It always blew hot/cold air.
So it needed some oil. So you had to open the trunk to get fuel. So the windows were finicky. So what? The Vic still succeeded in its basic functions, reliably, after many years and many hard miles.
Also, any car that can withstand the driver’s education of three teenagers is a great car.
These CVs were indeed stealthily economical.
This is one car I always enjoyed driving, from the time it was brand new until I finally sold it. I think the only time this one left anyone stranded was when my daughter had a flat tire at the mall, so that may not even count.
These early 90s CVs had a really nice suspension system with front and rear sway bars that kept things nice and flat in the curves. It wasn’t fast-fast, but was fast enough for normal life. I always kind of wished that the 5.4 would have found its way into these, but it never did. My only complaint was that the 114 inch wheelbase made rear leg room tighter than it should have been.
I remembered one other little postscript to the walnut incident that you would appreciate, having owned one of these. A few years later I went to change plugs, which were located deep down in the heads. a little tiny piece of walnut shell had landed in one of those spark plug wells, which prevented my spark plug socket from getting down far enough to engage the plug. I spent probably an hour trying to fish that stupid piece of walnut out of the hole, but finally did.
I laughed at the juxtaposition of the car being equipped with the optional passenger front airbag but not the (also optional) ABS. If ever an optional item should should have been tied to the required selection of another, this is it.
Your mom loved her large sleds. I do wonder what she would pick from today’s crop of cars.
I remember the early 90s when the air bags were becoming a thing. GM went heavy into ABS but lagged in air bags, while Ford made both optional. I seem to remember that there were supply issues which kept them from making the passenger bag standard. I think Mom made the right choice – all of us were old enough that we had plenty of experience with non-ABS brakes, and the air bags were a huge advance.
You made me think about her cars, and with a couple of exceptions, everything she ever bought was in the 112-116 inch wheelbase range, from a 53 Chevrolet (115) to the two Crown Vics (114). The longest was the 116 inches on the 74 Luxury LeMans and the shortest was 112 (61 F-85 and 72 Cutlass 2 door). In the 70s (when automotive dinosaurs roamed the earth) she was a mid-sized car girl. She moved to the “big” ones when they shrunk to her preferred size.
Late in her life she said that she liked the smaller size of her Lacrosse (108 inch wheelbase) and felt that the Crown Vic would have been too much car for her by then.
I don’t deny that airbags are an unreservedly good thing, but I’d go for ABS first. Airbags will help if you have an accident; ABS might stop you having it in the first place.
Or is that a European view, with mandated seat belt wearing for 40+ years?
Car vs. Heap: ” … A car, they explained, was a vehicle that you could lend to someone without any instructions. A car operated just like all other cars of its kind … ”
Exactly.
This was very important in the days of carburetor equipped engines, vehicles with some odd manual transmission patterns and behaviors, and other trivial idiosyncratic automotive characteristics much studied and contended with by the owner, but a possible ambush to an unfamiliar driver.
It is with great relief that I can finally say I now own two cars based on Click and Clack’s definition. Most cars in my past would not have qualified either when new or after three of four years of use for any number of “not-a-big-deal-but-kind-of-odd-quirks”.
And having three children understand the special needs of this Vic seems a good way to teach them one big general reality of life; that everything important (or needed) requires careful attention to details, be it a car, a home, a relationship, a marriage, a career, and your own life itself.
Very few important entities in life will always work as intended, can be assumed to be there when needed or wanted, and will not need regular detailed attention.
Love the “prom” photo; that’s careful attention to details!
Everyone has different ideas on the ideal car for teens. Some think new cars are the best and safest approach, but I preferred the idea of something large (for safety) and old (cheaper insurance and less worry if something happens to it). I remember my old mentor Howard had an International Scout that each of his three children wrecked in a major way. By the time all was through, I think the tailgate was the only original piece of metal on it. We were fortunate that our kids avoided any significant accidents.
I think all learned their lessons. The eldest bought an 89 Grand Marquis as his only car before entering religious life, where cars are provided by his community. The second two have driven cars of two different grandparents, and have kept them on the road for a long time. With a little help from me. 🙂
I was wondering where the 89 Grand Marquis fit in. Thanks for clarifying.
That one was not actually mine. Except when it came time to fix something, then it sure felt like it was mine. 🙂
I’m truly impressed how the CV survived all that “full utilization” as well as it did.
I rather liked these when they first came out (without the grille); the (semi)big American RWD car seemed to have some genuine life left after all. The Touring Sedan version especially caught my eye.
Agreed on all counts. I was aghast when that grille got plastered on in year no. 2, as well as that gaudy red reflector strip in the back. Other than that, this one brought back most of everything I had loved in cars like this.
I got to thinking about how something like this is what I thought the US industry should have been doing with big cars in the 80s, but how this car was not very successful in selling to younger people. But by the time these came out, the industry had spent at least a decade chasing young(ish) people away from this class of car, a decade when many alternative segments caught on.
“Fortunately, one of the features of these “fat Ford” years was dampers that would shut off each of the dash vents to force air out where it was wanted.”
This should be standard equipment in this day and age, but as I learned the hard way, it actually is not.
Long story….
The only problem with shutting off the dash vents to force the air out through the floor vent was the whistle from the dash vents. But without those dampers there would either have been some cold feet or some busted knuckles and bad language.
Very remindful of my Father’s last car. Bought new in late 90, a 91 Buick LeSabre Custom sedan. In Ice Bkue with a darker blue interior. It was a dependable car. And after dad passed in 98, Mom kept it, having stopped driving by then (her last car was an 87 Grand prox. sold years earlier) She allowed my Sisters 3 sons to use it as their 1st car, in turn much as happened to your CV. With the one codice they be available, with the car, when she needed to be somewhere. All three unfailingly hewed to that ruling. The buick was cared for and after the last Son had graduateed to their own car, it sat in my Sister’s driveway when Mom eventually sold her home and moved to a retirement home. When Mom Passed, my Sister asked mr if i wanted the Buick, I said. sure, and Had it shipped from Wildwood, Mo to Here in Phoenix. A little tireed but still dependable, The V^ remained strong to the end. but other sustems failed in turn, All four window mechanisms failed, the mouse fir headliner was sagging badly I actually stapled it in places, with some success. The AC finally quit, a necessity in Phoenix. The final strike was whn it was on a lift at the shop having brakes done and it was found that 18 years in the midwes, including salt encrrusted winters, had taken it’s toll. deep rust abounded. Nothing showed badly topside except the clear coat was failing. I was saddened to realize this car, my father;s last, would not continue on, i did pull a few bits off to help my 87 LeSabre Ttype and the remainder went to the knackers.
It is true that it is the rare car that can survive daily use for the long haul, especially in a midwestern (meaning road salt) climate. I miss cars like these – rock solid mechanicals but of a kind that can be bought inexpensively as they age because they are no longer popular. That Buick sounds like it made itself a valuable part of your family.
I miss cars like these – rock solid mechanicals but of a kind that can be bought inexpensively as they age because they are no longer popular. That Buick sounds like it made itself a valuable part of your family.
I agree. That used to be my specialty, which is why I drove old full-size cars for years. I am not sure what I am going to do when it comes time to replace my old truck. There are no more cheap basic trucks or fullsize cars.
While I am not generally a fan of older big Fords, these really were a pleasure to drive when they were healthy. It was amazing what Ford was able to do with what had been a very uninspiring platform at first.
By the time you were done with it, it sounds like it would perfectly fit the description of a “winter beater” here in my part of the world. It starts, the heater and lights work, and you really don’t worry what the chlorides are doing to it as long as it lasts until spring while your “good” car is safely off the road. And 500 bucks was just about the going rate.
All you needed then was a cheap set of snows and a few sandbags in the trunk and you were good to go.
And I agree with you on the economy part, it’s all about the total cost of ownership and not just what goes in the gas tank!
These were good cars and I liked them (although I believe Panthers are overrated by most on the internet these days). The biggest improvement over the box Panthers was in the drivetrains and suspension tuning. I can’t say I ever cared for the styling on the 92-97 cars including the grille-less 1992s. The 1998 and newer CVs were nicer looking cars IMO, but they were de-contented which at least made them less brougham-like (that was okay in my books). My all time favourite of the last true BOF (BAF) full-size cars were the 94-96 Impala SS, which I also thought had the best styling of the aerodynamic full-size cars. If I ever buy full size car from this era again, that is the only one I’d purchase. It’s too bad GM and Ford didn’t put the modern drivetrains and suspension tuning in their old boxy cars.
Your Panther seems to be pretty typical of my experience. These cars are very durable but had little ancillary items that would fail. I know pictures hide a lot, but I am surprised at how good it looked in 2015. You did a good job maintaining it and keeping the rust at bay. In my climate almost all of that era were rusted out or in the scrap yard by that time.
You certainly got great service out of your Vic, surviving your three kids. It reminds me of Dad’s old Malibu, which served the family for about the same length of time and taught me and my three siblings how to drive. Its all those memories in that car which is why I have kept it all these years later. Cars can really be personal rolling time capsules.
I am really kind of amazed at how the rust stayed away on this one. I have seen several older CVs that had rust problems, but maybe it was the light use early in the car’s life (and the fact that after the first 5 years my mother had retired and so seldom took the car out in bad weather). Also, even though it was parked outside starting a year or two after I got it, our driveway had a lot of shade to protect it from the direct sun. After a couple of years parked out in the open when one kid had it at school, the clearcoat started to give up.
I had forgotten one other problem we had, which was a water leak that would get the front passenger carpet wet, but only in cold weather. This only happened the last couple of years, and required pulling up carpet to dry. It never happened in warm weather, and I suspect that a HVAC drain tube was clogged and would freeze or maybe a crevice or windshield seal would open up a touch in freezing weather.
I have a lot of experience driving Crown Vics, my favorite was the original grille less model. By the end of the run, they had the superior rear suspension and handled quite well. My feeling was that they were smooth riding, quiet. and adequately powerful cars. The back seat was always a bit cramped. After driving Honda Civics and minivans also during this time, my conclusion was that while they were good cars, the space utilization was poor, and they were too big. Nowadays, I don’t find sedans to be too appealing as a transportation choice, considering all the other options that are out there.
I agree on the cramped rear legroom. I was in Chicago once and saw some CV cabs on an extended wheelbase with slightly elongated rear doors. I always wondered why the Grand Marquis (if not the CV) never got the extended wheelbase for more interior room.
The one other big plus to the car was a huge and very usable trunk.
Agree on the extended wheelbase. As a former user of New York City cabs, those Crown Vics were wonderful taxis. Ford Escape taxis aren’t viable for the long-legged.
Great story and so many good points.
It sounds like your kids made excellent use out of what I too think is probably the perfect young drivers’ car. Right size, suitable safety features, RWD. Maybe the only thing that would have made it better would have been a manual transmission, but that would have been impossible to pull off with a big American car at this time; and it would have undermined one of the perfect criteria met by your Crown Vic…a car cared for (as best as something can be when cared for by adolescents) and passed down within the family.
The walnut story is great too. Of course something non-magnetic would fall down a spark plug well. It just has to be that way. Dealing with squirrels, chipmunks, and mice is a constant battle over my way too. We unfortunately have mostly oaks and therefore acorns are the issue…along with all manner of insulation, cardboard, and various other things that the critters drag into any part of the car that they can pack full of it. It’s said, and this seems true based on my research, that the cars they go after the most are those with wiring colored with soy-based ink. In my fleet, this seems to be the Honda (which has more resident mice than it does horsepower) and to a slightly lesser extent the Toyota. I therefore use these two vehicles sort of like a sacrificial anode to keep my 2 other (non-soy-ink) vehicles relatively rodent-free. Seems to work better than peppermint oil and dryer sheets.
A neighbor has a nearly-new 4-Runner that has had two squirrel incidents already. He has to leave it in the garage and his wife’s cars sit outside.
I once read a thread on one of the Panther forums where a guy fitted a 5 speed manual to a CV or MGM. I was intrigued, but would never have put that kind of work into this car.
Putting the car into the garage just seems to trade squirrel/chipmunk problems for mouse problems.
Yes, I DO have a cat. 🙂
Since our ’95 Thunderbird is a 4.6 Ford product of the same era, I see quite a few similarities. Ours also has also been a remarkably economical car to own. And it has some of the same small failures, such as the odometer and the gas door release. So far, the cursed HVAC blend door hasn’t acted up, but it did on our ’06 Crown Vic. Fords sure seem to share a lot of the same maladies.
I love this car’s color. Someone at Ford in the 1990s must have had an interest in purple-ish colors – my ’98 Contour SVT had an interior that was billed as blue but was really an odd shade of purple that I’ve never seen anywhere else.
And I enjoyed your accounts of teaching your kids to drive. My oldest is 15 and has always been interested in driving, though when she found out that there’s a written portion of the driving test too, she lost some enthusiasm because that reminds her too much of school, which she despises. She’ll get over her aversion eventually. And my younger daughter is geographically challenged like your oldest. At least we have Google Maps now – before that I’m sure her chances of coming home from any given location would be pretty low.
Oh, and my older daughter enjoys filling the cars up with gas. Except for the T-bird, which she lets me take care of because… well you know… we need to open the trunk and then pull a little wire to open the gas door.
The directional thing was a real challenge, as the poor kid really struggled with that. This was right at the beginning of the era when kids were getting cell phones and after an argument in my head, I finally popped for the extra $15 a month or so for Verizon’s early VZ Navigator for his phone. That helped. A lot.
I am amazed that odometer failure is a thing. There is no possibility of unusual stress or misuse, and I can see no reason other than using cheap parts. I wonder if there is some law that would require the manufacturer to fix that – I have no idea.
There were lots of odd colors in the 90s, especially at Ford.
The T-bird’s odometer failed way back in about 2003 or so. We drove it for quite a while without an odometer, but after our first kid was born we (ridiculously) thought we’d be using that car for long-distance family trips, and I wanted an odometer for traveling, so I had my mechanic replace it.
Within a year, the replacement odometer broke too. Our mechanic replaced that one free of charge – and this third odometer has been working OK ever since.
But it’s baffling that these things would break at all.
And so we are somewhat clear on this, I think that Ford jacked the design for the Crown Vic and styling from the debut Q45 from Infiniti.
Car vs heap is interesting, Im storing my Hillman 400km away at a mates place as I rarely use it here and have nowhere to park two cars, to get it there I checked the oil and coolant filled the gas tank and drove it nothing more, nothing went wrong it was an uneventful trip, My mate finds it hard to believe that with a 55 year old car you just pull the choke and turn the key and it starts and its quiet and comfortable to drive,
Definitely in the car category!
Everyone should have an old car like that!
The first time, and maybe the second, what you’re polishing is the hardcoat that was applied to the front of the lens under cleanroom conditions during manufacture. After that, you’re peeling away layers of much softer polycarbonate. The bare polycarbonate is much more prone to abrasion and UV, so the deterioration comes back worse and worse, faster and faster. Most of the so-called sealants in the so-called restoration kits (the ones that even bother to pretend trying) are, at best, a useless waste of time and effort; this is one of the very few exceptions.
Oooh, I have saved the link. My Honda needs this headlight treatment. Thanks for this!
I really enjoyed this story. Unlike my late Dad, I keep my cars a long time, especially when they are good ones like this Ford. Easier to do in the SoCal climate, of course. And the longer you own them, the more likely you are to be in dicey situations with them – and your affection and gratitude grows when they get you home in one piece. And you begin to anthropomorphize the car, like a great companion dog. That feeling sure comes through with the Vic and it is most impressive that the car served all of your kids well as they learned to drive. Also, thank you for sharing the family stories – you and your wife obviously did a spectacular job in raising those kids and now you can – as you say in your blog – put your feet up and have a satisfactory rest after all that hard work. I think you need to think about an aspirational car as a reward. I sure look forward to more COALs and other car stories.
Thank you for the kind words. Comparing this car to a big, even-tempered dog is an accurate take. Just like you make allowances for the reduced abilities of an aging dog, we do the same for a good car that gets old.
I struggle with what kind of car I might want now. Form what I have been reading, lots of new stuff isn’t made for the buy and hold kind of ownership I have done in recent years.