We here at TTS reserve a very large soft space for station wagons, having spent the better part of our impressionable young lives in them. My cohort’s family had an Audi Fox, a W123 Mercedes-Benz, and a couple of Pontiac 6000s. We had a Datsun 510 and, through my father’s company, a venerable GM G-body in the form of a 1979 Chevrolet Malibu.
I always liked those Malibus, especially in wagon format. And I won’t even get into my weird El Camino fetish. Continue reading
So there I was, out for a Saturday drive in Dad’s Toyota Tundra king cab on my way to fetch various and sundry moldings and power tools from the local Lowe’s Depot, bombing around the backroads listening to the unfortunately melancholy CD that I gave him some time ago, and I spied this pretty little mid-80s Porsche 911 Targa – and I love mid-80s targas, especially sans whale tail – curving up the country lanes. But it wasn’t the car that caught my eye, it was the two little heads bobbing back and forth and up and down in the back seats. And it got me thinking…