Blacktop Jungle: I Wouldn't Spend it On Cars, That's For Sure

"Jalopnik" has been running a contest where readers are sending in the names of cars that they'd buy if they had a million dollars. There's no prize --- though a million dollars would be appropriate, now, wouldn't it?

I know what I'd do if I had a million dollars. To paraphrase Garrison Keillor, I'd put it on the end of a forked stick and run around town showing it to everyone. Of course, he was writing about Lake Wobegon, Minn.; if I did that in most of the towns around here, someone would clonk me on the head and take the money.

But, I digress.

I wouldn't need a million dollars, I don't think. I have fairly pedestrian tastes in automobiles (although that seems like a contradiction in terms) and don't have a big desire for a Ferrari, a Lamborghini, or a Duesenberg. In fact, if you gave me a million dollars to spend on cars, my very first purchase would be:

1.) 1958 Plymouth Fury --- Preferably fuel-injected, please. I first saw one of these cars in a advertisement in an old copy of Life magazine when I was about 8 years old, and my eyes popped out of their sockets. (Which may explain why I still wear glasses to this day.) For a kid growing up in a world of cruddy looking GM X-cars like the Chevy Citation, Chrysler K-cars and over-upholstered Fords with dual opera windows and padded vinyl tops, this beige-and-gold hardtop screamer out of Virgil Exner's "Forward Look" was like something from another planet.

When I eventually read about the impact that the late '50s Chryslers had on the auto buying public, I could instantly understand what that impact must have felt like --- the rest of the overchromed, fat, wallowing, chunky '50s cars looked like the boxes that the new Chryslers, Plymouths, Dodges and DeSotos came in.

The '58 Plymouth Fury single-handedly made me fall in love with '50s cars. I was only slightly disappointed to learn later that the '57 and '58 Chrysler Corporation lineup was among the worst manufactured cars that the company ever produced --- they rusted and shook themselves apart within months --- and considering some of the krep that the Mopar boys would build over the next 30 years, that's really saying something. I was more disappointed when they made a (wretched) movie of Stephen King's "Christine" that required the destruction of dozens of '58 Plymouths. Why didn't he write a horror novel about the Renault Le Car? We could have benefited from the destruction of a few dozen of those.

Anyway, if I had a million dollars and had to spend it on cars, the '58 Plymouth Fury would be my first choice. Given the fact that the Fury was a limited-edition car then --- it was only later that Plymouth applied to name to a line of boring sedans and station wagons --- I might have to settle for a hardtop Belvedere, I suppose. I'd probably set myself back about $40,000, I suspect for a Fury, and maybe $15,000 for the Belvedere. Either way, I'd have lots of money left for my next purchase:

2.) 1958 Chrysler 300 D --- Take the '58 Fury and multiply it by two, and you get a '58 300. Better-looking (less chrome, for one thing), faster, bigger, more powerful, more luxurious. If you saw the movie "Quiz Show," it was a Chrysler 300 that Rob Morrow's character is drooling over at the beginning. The 300 was built just as lousy as the Fury, of course, but you can't eat your cake and have it, too, I suppose.

Besides the massive 300-horsepower Hemi engine that would propel one of these land-sharks up to 156 miles per hour, the Chrysler 300 D also handled exceptionally well for a car of its size, and was dragged to a stop by massive power brakes. If I had one of these --- preferably in red --- I'd take it out on the Trans-Canada Highway somewhere in the prairies, find a radio station playing Chuck Berry or Bo Diddley (hey, it's my fantasy) and mash the accelerator to the floor boards, and I wouldn't stop until the Mounties shot out my tires. Once I got out of jail, I'd go find myself a:

3.) 1964 Studebaker GT Hawk --- By now, the neighbors would be so up in arms by the smells of burning rubber and unburned gasoline on my street that they'd be organizing a petition drive to have my house rezoned for a methadone clinic or a strip bar or a rendering plant --- anything that would be an improvement over me rocketing out of the driveway every morning in a giant V-8 powered fire-breathing Chrysler monster.

So I'd have to get something that looked more sedate. I'd go before the zoning board, looking humble, and tell them that I'd bought a '64 Studebaker. In a nice, somber black color.

"A Studebaker?" they'd say, thinking of the ridiculous bullet-nosed monstrosities from the early '50s that always show up in TV commercials and movies. "How bad could that be?" The zoning board would rule in my favor, and I'd go home that night, back the Stude out of the garage, drive out to the street, wind up the McCullough supercharger and pop the clutch. Every night the good burghers of North Bittyburg would hear the squeal of tires and say, "Who was that masked Stude?"

Studebaker in the early '60s was going down for the third and final time. They were saddled with a basic body that dated back to 1953 and had a budget of about $11 to facelift it. In came industrial designer Brooks Stevens, who turned the old '53 Stude coupe into what looked like a cut-down Thunderbird with a heavy Mercedes influence. Under the hood went the reliable Studebaker 289 V-8, with an optional supercharger to beef it up.

There were only 15,000 made in the entire three years of production, so you wouldn't have to see yourself going down the street constantly. They still look pretty good --- which is an amazing testament to Stevens' work --- and in fact, most people would peg it for a '70s car, not one from 1964. The Studebaker 289 was an oil-burner, but otherwise bulletproof. And even the best, primo-condition '64 Hawk you could find would only set me back $15,000 or so.

After a few weeks, the North Bittyburg police would figure out that the narrow black stripes of burnt rubber all over the streets in our borough could have only been made by a Studebaker, and I'd be back in hot water again. They'd haul me up before the district magistrate, and I'd get my license suspended. I might also be handed some community service as a penalty, so for my last car purchase, I'd buy a:

4.) 1974 Oldsmobile Delta 88 convertible --- When I was growing up, someone in our neighborhood had a red Olds Delta 88 convertible with a white top. What a car! It wasn't fast --- 1970s smog-control regulations had taken care of that --- nor was it agile --- the car's size and weight made it tend to wallow. But it had those great early '70s GM lines that made it look graceful from virtually any angle, and it was a convertible.

The great philosopher Charlie Brown, after all, once said that the secret to happiness was to own both a lake and a convertible. That way, if it was a nice sunny day, you could drive to your lake in your convertible, but if it was raining, you could say, "Oh, well, at least the rain will fill up my lake."

I don't know about the lake, but with a Delta 88 convertible, I'd volunteer to do my community service driving in all of the town parades. There I'd go, trolling down Main Street at 5 mph behind the high school band and in front of the Port Vue Legionettes, with some cute TV news chick or beauty pageant winner sitting on top of the back seat, waving at the crowd.

Gee, a couple of months of that kind of community service, and I'd be thinking about what other vehicles I could buy to break the law with. A big old Dodge or Plymouth police interceptor from the '60s? An MG or Sunbeam sports car (I can just see myself in a tweed jacket and a racing cap, zipping around Renzie Park)? A Jaguar XJ12 drop-top?

So what cars would you buy with a million bucks?