Although a 1969 GTO convertible ignited my love for General Motors products at the tender age of 20 or 21, GTOs mostly escape my notice anymore. In my sleepy little town of 33,000 or so, a summer GTO sighting is almost as ubiquitous, if not as annoying, as all night drunken fireworks displays or shirtless middle-aged dudes (of whom I am sadly now sometimes one). It’s not that I dislike GTOs, it’s just that I’m around old cars too much to appreciate their appeal. But this Tempest reminded me, if I at all needed the nudge, that the 1960s were the decade of Pontiac.
Somewhat ratty, somewhat forgotten, somewhat nontraditional old cars are typically the magnet to my steel, and this bottom-of-the-line two-door Tempest is almost hipster ironic in its “look at me” invisibility, but that same chic mousiness is what makes it the winner with which I was instantly enamored. Because it’s NOT shiny, and it IS lived in, I noticed it, and since I noticed a ’67 Pontiac A-Body for the first time in what seems like eons, it all became clear why people love ’67 GTOs. They are the fortunate recipients of a beautiful bodystyle, Bill Mitchell and Jack Humbert having waved their magic wands and creating a carriage that lasted long after midnight.
While Buick owned most of the 1950s and Oldsmobile the 1970s, Pontiac raced to number three in the 1960s based on the strength of their superior styling and innovative marketing, rendering even the most basic of Tempests lifestyle-machines. Even with a basic 326 and basic wheel covers, the Tempest oozes a GTO-like ready to strike persona, a sheep in wolf’s clothing. What makes this particular car so exciting, however, is that nobody seems to want a base Tempest, or even a LeMans. Everybody goes for the GTO, or much worse, a clone. Therefore, seeing a lowly Tempest at an average summer get-together is exciting.
While I understand why men and women of a certain age want to finally purchase the car they couldn’t afford back in the day, the worst thing that could happen to this Tempest is a for sale sign, or for the current owner to have a change of heart. Aside from some surface rust and a little Walmart rash, this poor Tempest would be the faux-GTO clean slate that some baby boomer has been searching for, and that’s a shame.
After all, Van Kaufman and Art Fitzpatrick sold the Tempest lifestyle well enough for any owner to appreciate the feature car based on its own numerous merits. It’s a driveable example of why owning an old car is so much fun. With a stock 326, it will likely be as reliable as any old car, will cruise easily at freeway speed, and won’t require race gas. Its old paint liberates an owner from waxing instead of driving and worrying instead of smiling. Any new stone chip will only add to the well-used mosaic instead of instigating heart palpitations.
In The Tempest, Prospero mused that “we are such stuff that dreams are made on,” an existential salute to the impermanence of life and all its accouterments, but if Shakespeare loved cars, a basic old Tempest might brighten his protagonist’s day just a little. So “be cheerful,” Curbside readers, and smile a little smile for the underdog, the Malibu that hasn’t morphed into a fake Chevelle SS, or a base Camaro without Z/28 stripes, and behold the joys of the simple and humble, yet beautiful, classic car.
Note: a rerun of an older post.
For further consideration:
I own a 1966 Tempest convertible and I like to tell GTO owners they have the “Grand Tempest Option”. At car shows most will view my car with confusion. I’m okay with that.
Dad had a ’66 LeMans the same color as the Tempest in the article. I confess I like the taillight treatment of that model more. It had to go because we moved to Las Vegas and the killer combo of no A/C and Vinyl seats was no bueno.
The LeMans replaced a 62 Corvair because Mom proved genetically incapable of mastering the manual transmission. The fallout from that meant no manual for this kid until he was out of the house on his own “But Mom might have to move it…”
Good point about the tail lights on the ’66 vs the ’67. I always thought there was a bit of wasted space there.
I spent more than a few hours behind the jewel-like dash of my ’66 Tempest four-door, formerly my grandparent’s car. Originally OHC-6 equipped with Pontiac’s Super Turbine 300 providing a very CVT-like shifting experience. The OHC-6 had suffered cam failure (common), so it came out, and Granny assisted me in dropping a warmly-built 350 SBC/THM350 in its place (this was in the ’80s – I would rebuild the 6 should I have the same car today). The cam cover is all I have left of the car, it hangs on my shop wall.
I mostly love this car, but I’ve always found the interiors disappointing. The ’67 Bonneville and Grand Prix, those had dashboards I wouldn’t mind looking at for hours a day.
It’s remarkable how in spite of the tunneled rooflines varying very little if at all on all brands of 66-67 A bodies they all manage to wear it totally differently from each other. The Tempest line of course being my favorite.
I often prefer the lesser trim to the muscle cars, having not lived in an era where they were just everyday sights a lot of the styling details that set the iconic GTOs apart from the tempest just look default normal. I look at this and see it’s unique taillights, unique grilles and other trim and it’s just a more fresh sight.
Rather a lot of the old girl still standing. As the post is a “repost”, wonder where/ how she is today.
Good that its a post, 2door.
Stronger body to hold up over time.
I almost purcheased a ’67 LeMans hdtp we had on the used car lot with the base OHC engine, but even by then (1969) word was getting out @ their cam failures due to lack of oil. Therefore, I $old it instead and nought a shiny, new ’69 Nova base coupe with the 250 c.i. 6 and PG. What could be more reliable than that? Well, except it burned exhaust valves, and 3 different dealers FAILED to solve the problem. It was traded for a new ’70 Super Bug. 🙁 GM quality…….DFO
There is much that I agree with in this post. Mostly though, the cars that I notice in car shows and elsewhere are the ones that are not well-established stars. I am drawn to the 4-doors, wagons (although these in general have taken on star attributes in the past half-dozen years), and other well-worn vehicles that are still spiff-up-able enough to periodically bring to a how and shine as the day to day objects that cars actually are.
Oh, and that’s a great line about creating a carriage that lasts long after midnight.
It’s nice to see a Tempest of this vintage that has not been turned into a tribute GTO. I’m trying to remember when I last saw a Tempest-or a GTO for that matter-from the ’60’s. This old girl is definately a unicorn.
Agree with everything said here, when the base models have exactly the same styling as the top models, they really appeal to me.
My favourite car line example of this is the 68/69 Plymouth Belvedere coupe, I even the prefer the pillared version over the hardtop, I bet there is not many of those left in original condition.
Yes, this survivor is excellent .
I’d slap some wax on it to protect it from the sun .
-Nate
Drove a ’67 Tempest same color as the one in the article as a senior in high school. Not a day goes by that I don’t look for another. Such an awesome looker.
At our local car show there has been a rarer than rare Tempest wagon with the OHC six, in the same turquoise.
Couldn’t agree more on seeing too many GTOs and not enough Tempest/LeMans versions of this great body style. I bought a 67 LeMans as a hold me over till I get what I want car in 73 and loved it so I kept it a few extra years. Wish I had kept it instead of the can’t even remember replacement that was flashy and total crap.