When Karmagirl asked about the perfect car, I answered with a discription of my "welcome home from Vietnam" present to my self. The story of how I...a staunch Chevy guy from birth... came to buy that car...is a little lengthy, but here goes.
My trip from Germany to my home town, "the box", is another article in the making...but it was November of 1965 and after the ordeal of that trip I concentrated on enjoying the 30 day leave I had before me. It was the very beginning of the muscle car era and it seemed that every car maker in the world was packing big horses in front of little carriages. One of my best friends' father worked sales at the local Lincoln-Mercury dealer. Mercury had a big promotion going on for their particular entry into the "catch up with Pontiac" frenzy, a Comet Cyclone with a 390 inch motor and lots of zoom. Their line was that no matter what color Comet your husband bought, in his mind it was "Big Red". Every evening Lou, my buddy Mike's dad, would bring home a bright red Comet with that big 390 and a four speed and toss Mike the keys and say..."Go shred some tires." It was that kind of atmosphere in the valley called "the Box". That was considered "advertising".
So almost every night of that leave, we were out and about, cruising and shredding. They even made a sign on the side of the Comet that said, "Try Big Red". A lot of pretty healthy comers did...a lot of them had more sense. This car screamed. Then one evening as we were tooling down the main drag in town...Main Street...we saw a new Chevelle SS-396. Going the other way with a big sign on the door that said, "Big Red or Bust". It was (and I still believe to this day that this is true) the most beautiful car body I had ever seen. The new year models had come out in September but being overseas and out of touch, I hadn't seen the body change for the new '66 Chevelle. It was yellow and had a black vinyl roof. It had a tough looking stance and just looked so COOL.
Mike did his best imitation of Robert Mitchum spinning around in the street and went off in search of the Chevy. We didn't catch up with it that night..but a couple nights later when Lou was driving Big Red, he had his butt handed to him by a screaming Chevelle. Mike always insisted it would have turned out differently if he had been driving. I didn't get to see that because on that same night I was at the Chevy dealer test driving the Chevelle's twin. I was absolutely crazy in love with that car. I tried to talk the Chief into signing a loarn for me so I could buy it right NOW. But the ever practical Chief refused...he explained that he didn't want to be in one of those stories where the young GI's car sits in the garage for twenty years because he didn't make it home from the war and Betty Lou would never let him sell it if that happened.
I told you all that so I could tell you this. A little over a year later...The '67 models are out...I tinkled away an awful lot of money in Vietnam but managed to save enough for a down payment...just not a down payment on a brand new car. So I went shopping. I was looking for a '66 SS-396 and that was it. I saw several...drove a few...could have actually afforded a couple...but the truth was that none of them excited me the way that test car did a year before. Many years later I found out that Chevy had actually loaded the deck on that...the 396 came in three versions...the most common was 325 horses...there was a beefier 350 horse option...and for those with knowledge of how to...there was a meat eating 375 horse version. Guess which one they used for test drives at Hatch Chevrolet? It is no wonder that I was not getting the pop I expected.
So, making a last stop at Hatch, where the Chief bought all his cars, the salesman who knew the Chief was listening you my tale of dissatisfaction...and ever anxious to move a car...he said he had just taken a GTO in trade...low mileage (probably a quarter mile at a time) and clean as a whistle...why didn't I give it a spin. I had driven 442's, Grand Sports, even tried Big Red, but had not seen a GTO. So I say "sure" and off I go. Hatch sits right on the main street (Main Street) and about 500 meters west of the lot, Main street slides right up onto the freeway. I floored it and started banging gears and was thoroughly disappointed. The GTO was not even as quick as most of the other types I had driven. I limped it back to the dealer and said, "Nice try, Slick, this is a dog".
He had a puzzled look on his face then told me to get in again and lets go around one more time. I popped out of the dealer, squealing and chirping...I did like the close ratio four speed...but the motor was not doing it for me. Slick said , "Punch it!" I said I was all the way to the floor...He said I wasn't...I insisted I was...he said push harder...I did...and SHAZAM!!! That little GTO sat me back in the seat and with a sound like a hoover on steroids, tried to scoot out from under me. We went under Grossmont Blvd at a hundred and twenty and Slick begged me to get him back to the lot in one piece. I called the Chief...after looking at the car and trying to talk me out of it he finally signed for me (yeah...old enough to do immediate action on an M60...not old enough to buy a car). When Pontiac went to the mechanical linkage on their tri-power package, they put a really tough spring on the slide linkage...the two end carbs had only two positions, open and closed, so they wanted to make accidental firings harder to do.
It was Metallic Emerald with a black vinyl roof...389 with tri-power (supposedly 360 horses)...close ratio four speed...positraction...the AM radio had a rear speaker...black vinyl seats...no air...no power steering or brakes...and the sweetest sounding set of pipes on Earth. I was twenty years and a few days old and a buck sergeant just back from Vietnam...I was ten feet tall and bullet proof. And I had the coolest car in town.
The smile that crept across my face as we roared up the freeway ramp on that test drive didn't leave my face for months.