I never know what posts will elicit responses and was surprised when this one brought replies. By the way, that picture in the post yesterday with that beautiful model beside it was Joyce in 1966. The picture today was me when I was slim and trim because I had not had enough time to experience much of Joyce's good cooking for 18 months prior while I was overseas in uncle Sam's navy. One reply asked if there was a story with that and by golly there is; there's always a story.
I was driving a 57 Chevy at the time, working 2nd shift on North Island naval air station on Coronado, California. It was my 21st birthday, on a Friday in 1966 and I had been out driving that day. I was heading home to change into my uniform and go to work. It was noon time and my shift started at 3 pm. I was passing by City Chevrolet when I saw the car and decided to stop and take a quick test drive. The car looked so sharp and drove like a dream. I told the salesman I had to get ready for work but would stop in the next day to talk about it. He asked if I liked the car? I did, but I didn't have time to work on a deal that day.
He was an old hand at selling cars and knew what to do. We have all experienced car shopping, with the talking about it, the negotiation, the back and forth from the salesman to the manager, then talking with the manager in person and the hours taken to arrive at a deal. This old man said, "It you want the car, I will make it happen faster than you have ever seen and you will drive it to work tonight." I told him I had to leave in 45 minutes no mater what. We sat down and he began with pen in hand. The car was $2500; he wrote down $500 for my trade-in (which was on its last legs and nearer being worth $50 than 500. Some asshole had broken into the 57 2 weeks earlier and ripped off my radio, leaving a big hole in the dashboard and the automatic transmission was slipping.) He said sign this and I'll be right back. True to his word, he came back 5 minutes later and said, "Let's go to the finance guy."The finance manager typed up the contract and I was out the door and headed for home. Joyce had bought me a set of floor mats for the old 57, so the next day she had to take them back. The saleslady was understanding and even said that she knew the drill and had experienced it herself.
The Corvair was smooth riding, handled well, was surprisingly quick off the line (as several big engine drivers soon found out) and it was fun to drive. With the rear engine it would go anywhere, even in deep snow back in Missouri. It got excellent gas mileage. I think its biggest problem was it was introduced at the wrong time. It was on the market when everyone was crazy over V-8 muscle cars that despite the gas-guzzling nature of them, gas was so cheap no one cared. The Corvair was like the Studebaker, far ahead of the competition, too far ahead and too different in a world then that demanded uniformity or face the consequences of being out of step.
I know that old Ralph Nader called it unsafe at any speed, but that has only recently been debunked, sadly too late in the game. I have had 25 different cars and 2 trucks in my driving days. Some have been disasters, some great. I don't know why I didn't write about the 66 Corvair before; I guess it just didn't occur to me. Our first trip to San Diego from Missouri, was in our 60 Corvair and we had everything we owned in the world packed in there. It was a great car. The 66 Corvair was the first new car I ever bought and the cheapest ever. It was a great car and looked sharp. I took turns in that car on the back roads of San Diego county that would have made Ralph Nader cringe and it handled better than my friend's sports cars.
Of all the cars I have had, I liked the Studebaker (when my then girl friend told be to get rid of it, I got rid of her instead). Then my Henry J. Kaiser, the 66 VW beetle and the 2 Corvairs the best. I guess that makes me seem rather odd, but what you see is what you get from me.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
I was driving a 57 Chevy at the time, working 2nd shift on North Island naval air station on Coronado, California. It was my 21st birthday, on a Friday in 1966 and I had been out driving that day. I was heading home to change into my uniform and go to work. It was noon time and my shift started at 3 pm. I was passing by City Chevrolet when I saw the car and decided to stop and take a quick test drive. The car looked so sharp and drove like a dream. I told the salesman I had to get ready for work but would stop in the next day to talk about it. He asked if I liked the car? I did, but I didn't have time to work on a deal that day.
He was an old hand at selling cars and knew what to do. We have all experienced car shopping, with the talking about it, the negotiation, the back and forth from the salesman to the manager, then talking with the manager in person and the hours taken to arrive at a deal. This old man said, "It you want the car, I will make it happen faster than you have ever seen and you will drive it to work tonight." I told him I had to leave in 45 minutes no mater what. We sat down and he began with pen in hand. The car was $2500; he wrote down $500 for my trade-in (which was on its last legs and nearer being worth $50 than 500. Some asshole had broken into the 57 2 weeks earlier and ripped off my radio, leaving a big hole in the dashboard and the automatic transmission was slipping.) He said sign this and I'll be right back. True to his word, he came back 5 minutes later and said, "Let's go to the finance guy."The finance manager typed up the contract and I was out the door and headed for home. Joyce had bought me a set of floor mats for the old 57, so the next day she had to take them back. The saleslady was understanding and even said that she knew the drill and had experienced it herself.
The Corvair was smooth riding, handled well, was surprisingly quick off the line (as several big engine drivers soon found out) and it was fun to drive. With the rear engine it would go anywhere, even in deep snow back in Missouri. It got excellent gas mileage. I think its biggest problem was it was introduced at the wrong time. It was on the market when everyone was crazy over V-8 muscle cars that despite the gas-guzzling nature of them, gas was so cheap no one cared. The Corvair was like the Studebaker, far ahead of the competition, too far ahead and too different in a world then that demanded uniformity or face the consequences of being out of step.
I know that old Ralph Nader called it unsafe at any speed, but that has only recently been debunked, sadly too late in the game. I have had 25 different cars and 2 trucks in my driving days. Some have been disasters, some great. I don't know why I didn't write about the 66 Corvair before; I guess it just didn't occur to me. Our first trip to San Diego from Missouri, was in our 60 Corvair and we had everything we owned in the world packed in there. It was a great car. The 66 Corvair was the first new car I ever bought and the cheapest ever. It was a great car and looked sharp. I took turns in that car on the back roads of San Diego county that would have made Ralph Nader cringe and it handled better than my friend's sports cars.
Of all the cars I have had, I liked the Studebaker (when my then girl friend told be to get rid of it, I got rid of her instead). Then my Henry J. Kaiser, the 66 VW beetle and the 2 Corvairs the best. I guess that makes me seem rather odd, but what you see is what you get from me.
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
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