It’s hard to look at a second-gen Firebird and not think of “Smokey and the Bandit.” While this car has been forever etched into our memories by the 1977 film, this car is so much more than a movie cliche.
When this car was new, people were worried about Vietnam War protests, the emerging counterculture movement, the start of punk rock, vehicle emissions laws, and The Man taking away their rights. With its Screaming Chicken logo on the hood and its utter lack of subtlety, the Firebird Trans Am is a middle-finger response to the social changes of the 1970s. As long as I’ve got my horsepower, you and your issues can sit on it and rotate!
I don’t really care for convertibles. Soft-top, hard-top or anything in between. I guess my one exception might be the 1995 Mustang Hardtop, but that’s still not very practical. After riding in one all day, it feels like a day spent at Lake Pleasant in a boat. I guess Phoenix just wasn’t designed for convertibles. All that aside, I love every single third generation Camaro, and with the exception of the “notchback” and the swoopy, 91-92 body treatment, I love every third generation Firebird as well. Continue reading →
We all know about the GNX’s, T-type Buicks and Grand Nationals. They “brake for Corvettes”, right? The 3.8L Buick mill is a well known OHV V6, that starting in the 1980s, decided to pack heat wherever it went. Well, what you may not know (unless you’re a third generation f-body or Buick T-type buff) is that in 1989 you could have yourself a turbocharged 3.8L Buick-powered Pontiac Trans Am. Continue reading →
You ever have one of those weird semi-bad dreams where it isn’t really a nightmare but it takes place in some bizarre, Twilight Zone reality and leaves you feeling like shit nonetheless? Like, this one time I dreamt that it was sort of a high-tech future but not really, and it also felt like the past because some things that I was certain were very old looked brand new still, and all the kids in the city were being herded to the Colosseum downtown and force fed some kind of weird neon green cottage cheese type stuff. Everything just felt off. The way everything looked just made me feel totally uncomfortable and the best way I can try to explain it was it was like some kind of twisted, fucked-up alternate universe where I could totally imagine this Tiburon, up on blocks and somehow covered in 35 years of dust, being casually referred to by everyone as a second gen Trans Am and through all my uneasiness, not being unable to identify what was wrong.