We were about the same age. But while I’m in the spring of my years and in full possession of my faculties, my old friend Pontiac has been battling death for the last two decades. Having GM as the most dysfunctional mother in automotive history didn’t help, of course. And now the end has come.
I said ‘dysfunctional’, but ‘abusive’ would be a better description. GM’s utterly moronic management was responsible for shoving one of history’s worst automobile abominations down Pontiac’s throat: the Aztec. It looked like it had been designed by a bunch of inept idiots who each did different parts of the car and never even spoke to each other. (It was.) Time Magazine described it as “something that dogs bark at and cathedrals employ to ring bells”.
But let’s mercifully forget all that. For my part, I prefer to remember my friend Pontiac as the creator of icons like the 1926 Chief of the Sixes, and the 1958 Bonneville, the official Indianapolis Pace Car for that year. And most of all, from the picture above this post, from the late sixties, when the GTO was born. These were some of the best looking cars ever, 350 horsepower brutes, built with the motto “There ain’t no substitute for cubic inches.”
Pontiac, may you rest in peace. You deserve it.