Those rims were hard to clean
On paper this car seem to have all the right moves for a young driver: a comfortable cruiser to keep me out of trouble. Yet something about it just was not right from the beginning.
After getting rid of the Celica I was without a car for a month or so. I think dad was tired of me borrowing his car to hang out with friends. He again turned to the local streets to buy a car for his son, this turned up one day completely unexpected.
Looking it over in plain white, I was thankful in a “really, Dad?” kind of way. I got over the plush seats, old man styling, and front-wheel drive layout once I got to drive it. It was roomy and comfortable with a flip up armrest that I did get flipped up andto drive with my girlfriend at the time. By far a faster car than the Celica, I remember that when accelerating the drive-train sounded like a train. I also believe, but can’t say with certainty, LAPD detectives used a similar car around this time; When I wanted people to move I would flash the high-beams and it worked.
Looking thorough it I found paper work and found out it came from Cathedral City California, near Palm Springs. A true old man’s car, I thought. It was a nice car though with dual AC which had a display and adjust panel on the passenger side, which my girl put to use. I tend to run a little hotter.
Comfy interior
Everything else seemed pretty GMBB (GM Brand Bland) to me. In my eyes it was pretty luxurious. The only blemish I could never get rid of was this weird stain on the steering wheel horn pad. In an attempt to impress my friends when they saw the car was to say some old guy killed himself in it. I was just playing around but sometimes I believe the car was cursed.
It’s a great engine, I have to admit
The 3800 engine would intermittently misfire and fail to accelerate beyond 2000 rpm. I never did determine the cause, a quick fix was to shut-down and restart the car. It worked but was not always convenient when it happened. It had the air adjustable suspension which had a habit of draining the battery. Eventually I just pulled the fuse to the compressor. The radiator would leak; I could not afford a replacement at the time. A bottle of stop leak helped, although I know now it’s not a proper fix. The lights would dim while waiting at lights and playing loud music, a common issue in these cars if I’m not mistaken.
Not the only car of this era that suffered from this
It also had sagging headliner fabric, which I tried to fix myself and failed. I threw the whole headliner away, padding and all. You could not really tell it was missing, although it did get colder.
Though bland, it did attract attention from law enforcement, more likely it was my driving habits. Three tickets in a year, one time. On a couple of occasions, even within the last year, I’d get the DMV letter stating something to the effect of “you may think you’re a good driver but statistics show…” I’d read it then think “I’ll show you DMV” and then I’d be a good driver ‘till the driving points went down.
We all know Car & Driver is the better magazine
I was still doing odd jobs for my family at this time. I had gotten a scholarship for my writing after being nominated by a high school teacher that recognized my potential. I still remember when he said “Wow, looks like we got a writer here!” after reading some of my class assigned essays. My family was still struggling financially at this time so sadly I could not pursue that opportunity offered to me. I imagined myself being able to one day work for magazines like Car & Driver, Motorweek, or Road & Track. To this day I still sometimes get upset and beat myself up about it and wonder what could have been. I’ve never been able to express/explain myself properly when talking to people face to face, a big fail on my part as a human being. Writing was/is my voice, the way I want it to be.
By now, I had a steady group of friends that I’d hang out with most Fridays and Saturday nights. We would still burn up the “Wacky-Tabbacky” and drink up the beer. We mostly had entry level jobs; My friend Dave had gotten a job at an up-scale super market where it was pretty easy for him to acquire beer. Jill was the female of our group; I considered her my best friend as we would hang or drive around all hours of the night talking or just sharing silence. It was the type of friendship where others outside of it, including my girlfriend and Jill’s boyfriend, would swear or feel that we were far beyond just friends. I was madly in love with Jill; as a friend. There were awkward moments sure, but in an unspoken agreement that we just could not go further.
Why ruin it
Our favorite hang out spot that we thought was safe was an area called Frogtown, near Dodger Stadium/LA River. At the time gangs were a big thing to be afraid of; now Highland Park and Frogtown are full of hipsters – which I don’t mind at all. We would park on a dead end street smoke, drink, without a worry, until one day.
We were having a good time when all of a sudden a couple of cars pulled up, some gang members got out of the cars and walked to us. We were “hotboxing” the car, they asked for us to pull the window down. I tried to start the car; it cranked over but did not start. Embarrassingly I lowered the window as the guy next to my window pointed an ice-pick at me and asked what were doing. We were just chilling having a good time.
Where it went down
We were outnumbered and one of the guys had a gun. None of us had ever been in this situation before. We agreed to comply in hopes that they would move on. They started off with taking my Discman and Armitron watch. At ice-pick and gun point they ordered us out of the car, had us open the trunk, then give us some BS story about being LAPD. We were ordered up against the wall. We were still in a buzzed state and again hoping they would leave us alone if we cooperated. Jill and I looked at each other and decided to stick together, we both knew her punk boyfriend was not gonna protect her. As we all stared at the wall I remember saying a prayer to God, a request really. I felt helpless, yet when they started trying to feel-up on Jill I lost it; in a split second decision I would sacrifice myself to save her. And right then is when it happened…
In all the time we hung out on that street we had NEVER seen an LAPD car drive by, yet it did just then. In a split second we spotted the car drive by, stop, back up then drive down the street and rescue us. I still can’t explain that circumstance; my prayer was answered, it was weird.
My silent reminder
The guys ran off and within 2 minutes LAPD had additional cars and a helicopter in the area. They caught 5 of 8 guys. They recovered my stolen video camera, Discman, and Armitron watch. Till this day I still own an Armitron watch as a reminder. As they lined them up for us to identify my friend Dave yelled “Who’s they bi@#h now?” which made a few of the officers laugh. Jill and I silently comforted each other in the back of the squad car as LAPD finished their procedure. It was a wake up call in more ways than one.
My girlfriend at the time just happened to live near by. When I mentioned the incident to her, she said “I told you”. To this day, because she knew people in the ‘hood, I wonder if she called it.
Alameda Swap Meet Los Angeles
After that event, I had to give up that car. My girl and I went to the Alameda swap meet and sat for hours in the car with the low price of $500 on the window. Wouldn’t you know it some Cholo-looking guys bought it. I did not care. Glad it was out of my life even if the next car would bring me one step back down.
Did you get off without citation though drunk and stoned in the car?
Yes, its suprising how quickly you can sober up in a situation like that.
I guess. Another lucky break that night. I really appreciate your COALs by the way. Well written and relatable thiugh for some of it I wish it wasn’t.
Why, why is it that so many otherwise good looking US cars of that era were let down by that gawdawful cheap looking grey leather interior? It seems like almost all American cars of that era were equipped with interiors in this depresssingly bland color. Why??!
It didn’t clash with most exterior colors. But at least this car also offered burgundy and blue interiors, both fully color-keyed as was still the norm in American cars. You could also specify a great-looking, great-feeling velour cloth instead of the optional leather, and the upholstery choice wasn’t tied with any other optional equipment or restrictions.
I’m lucky to have been able to fend off the only two mugging attempts on me. The first was when a kid tried to steal my bookbag from the bicycle I was riding home from school in 9th grade, and the second was when someone tried to steal my sunglasses right off my face while walking down a DC city street in front of the office where I worked, whose address number was appropriately 666. I was able to fend him off with my shades still on me; not that I would have put up much of a fight since they were cheap drugstore knockoffs of the Ray-Bans the thief likely thought they were.
I used to be a trimmer….once i had to pull a brand new Cadillacs interior to install new leather that was exactly the same color and texture…i shook my head but hey…it was his money….only difference was the pleating on the door panel inserts that i could detect…still dont understand that one…
Do you know the movie Quinceañera? One of its themes is the gentrification of that area.
https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/quinceanera
Have not seen that movie. However that plot seems familiar, in regards to young girls getting pregnant, as I’ve seen similar in real life.
Wow, an experience I am glad to have not had myself.
This was one Buick I kind of always wanted. For a long time good clean “old man” examples were plentiful in my area. They are still there but nice, unmolested ones are getting harder to find.
Despite what happened I found myself liking the updated styling on later models. Also I didn’t have a budget for it at the time but I always wanted to hot rod one and rename it “Dark Avenue”
Great story, although with more unwanted adventure than was welcomed.
It made me recall a time when a friend was held up at LAX. He had just dropped off his luggage at the curb with his buddy and was going to return the rent a car when he was accosted. They wanted his watch and his wallet. He quickly remembered his mom had given him the watch, so it had sentimental value, and that his wallet was in an unusual pocket, so he refused. In his best British accent, he stared down the gun and told them to eff off and leave him alone. The robbers were so shocked at this reaction they took off before attracting attention. My friend lived to tell the tale. If he had been in a more secluded area it might have turned out differently.
After posting one of these I saw in a junkyard last month and writing that I rarely see them anymore, I’ve been musing that I now seem to see a different one almost every day, so clearly my original thought was way off base. And now here we are with yours this morning! I quite like these, the interior looks exceedingly comfortable and the exterior looks unmistakably “American”, in a good way, if I had to pick a twenty-five year old American car to drive this’d be on the short list for sure.
Looking forward to the next episode of “The Adventures of Danny” next Sunday!
Here is an economy contest by AutoBild, Europes largest car magazine:
Buick Park Ave from the 90s wins over VW Polo microcar. Unfortunately it’s only in german.
And I must say this Buick has aged well – like an old recliner.
https://www.autobild.de/bilder/gebrauchtwagentest-vw-polo-buick-park-avenue-11538985.html#bild1
Wow.. I’ve never seen those European taillights before… different look/feel from the US version.
Great link, here’s Jimmy the German’s translation – In short it goes sort of like this if you click through the two dozen picture slide show: Elena wants a car for the weekends, the contenders are a VW Polo with 195,000kms or the Buick Park Avenue with 123,000kms, both under 2000Euros. Her concerns with the 3cylinder Polo are that it’s underpowered (“how is one supposed to pass anyone with 54HP, it’s totally unsafe?” (A good German, this one!)) and that it’s about as interesting, comfortable and stylish as a folding chair. And the 1.2l engine isn’t considered particularly reliable or cheap to repair.
The Buick on the other hand impresses with its size “Check out those crumple zones!” ABS and Airbags make for a safe car. This was supposedly considered competition for the S-Class (What? That’s a new one.) Supposedly the Euro-market Park Avenues got better brakes, a better HVAC system and a separate QC check on a separate assembly line. But the chrome trim is flaking inside, the leather looks like plastic, the plastic wood doesn’t look like anything except plastic wood, and overall it’s not hard to figure out why American cars are overall uncompetitive…But it has lots of space and cupholders, auto-headlights, and other niceties as well as a huge trunk.
The air assisted rear suspension helps to isolate one from whatever the road has to offer, but Elena is concerned about fuel economy. Well, 10-11L/100km vs 6.5 or so for the Polo. That’s a lot but compared to other American cars the Buick is a miser (That 3.8 always was good on gas). Park’s apparently rust from the inside out due to supposedly very poor rust proofing from the factory, and at this age one should be concerned with dried out engine gaskets etc but this one still seems tight. Also apparently high speeds kills the transmissions, that are supposedly engineered for 55MPH. (Where do they get this stuff?) A tranny cooler would be a wise investment. But lots of them just get parted out when things go wrong so parts supply is good.
The result is that overall the Buick aquitted itself very well, and the Polo isn’t cheap to run just because it’s small. Euro for Euro the Buick appears to be a very good bet compared to the Polo, this ’91 Buick is even eligible for “Youngtime” insurance at a reduced rate.
And Elena? So far she’s been driving a Saab 9000 that she got for 500 Euros without a single problem. (That’s probably the real miracle here…)
I have just enough German to get the gist of the story, but not the nuances. You’ve expanded my understanding considerably. Thanks Jim!
“Also apparently high speeds kills the transmissions, that are supposedly engineered for 55MPH. (Where do they get this stuff?) A tranny cooler would be a wise investment.”
Above 40 mph or so unless accelerating the torque converter on these would be locked up and not generating much heat, so a trans cooler would make no difference. The trans fluid is already cooled in the bottom section of the radiator. Additional cooling is only needed when towing, when maybe you would be going uphill with the trans unlocked with the extra towing load for a long period of time. In high gear the trans is mostly just spinning as one piece, so going 55 or 155 isn’t that much different.
They don’t mention the difference in road tax (which is per CC displacement) in Germany, though it’s far from as high as here in the Netherlands, where you’re taxed by vehicle weight. The high running costs do make ‘uncool’ American cars quite cheap in some European countries, I paid 750 euros for a Chevrolet Alero, but the running costs are high even if you drive very little.
Those were reasonably popular in the 90s here in Austria believe it or not and can still be picked up for less than €2000. The styling I think helped being somewhat Jaguar-ish and they also had a good reliability record (transmission notwithstanding). Nice if you live out in the country and have a daily semi-long trip to the train station. In the city fuel consumption will hurt…
…but there was also one for €4950 (!) with alleged very low mileage:)
I got news for you Danny. You are a writer! Thanks for the interesting and exciting post. One of the great things about this site is that it allows us to share our varied viewpoints on the topic of old cars, You bring your own unique experiences and outlook to your writing which makes this site so much richer. Every car, and every driver, have their story.
Continue contributing and you’ll find your writing style developing. I’ve been contributing comments for quite a few years. I hope that some have been insightful, witty, or at least a bit entertaining. I haven’t made the leap to contributing a post…yet.
I started a blog of my own several years ago and I’m still working on improving my writing and producing skills.
Thank you. I have crept on this site for years, never really knowing if my stories warranted sharing. I kept mentioning it to friends and their reactions were always “what/huh/why?”
Only one person I mentioned it to said go for it.
I’m so glad that you decided to go for it. I’m really enjoying your COAL series so far. I agree, you are a gifted writer.
+1!
This site is the sort of thing most people won’t get, but car guys and some others will. If you have the bug to write, ANY venue that gets your writing in front of a significant number of eyeballs is worthwhile to write for. CC, though, is a fantastic site.
Great story and I am a fan of all the generations of Park Avenue.
What a wonderful past time to read your stories on a nice relaxing Sunday evening.
Thanks for your time Marbella Merlo.
Your story is quite horrific, plus the Deus Ex Machina of the cops happening by! But any decent mechanic should have been easily able to figure out what sensor or injectors whatever it was would have been responsible for the car not starting when you really needed it to. By 1993 (and I owned a 1990 GM vehicle for 28 years) cars should and did just work, and if they didn’t or don’t it should be able to be figured out and corrected. I never had any doubts about that car starting and running right, and it always did.
Now, erratic windshield wipers, leaking in many places due to shrinking gaskets, and headliner drooping, sure. When the headliner drooped on my Horizon I slashed it and spraymounted it back on, but the GM (OK, Pontiac Trans Sport) headliner was on some black base that glue would not work on – even the $12 Dupont stuff that mentioned headliners on the can.
Nail-biting story, Danny! I’m glad the universe smiled upon you that day.
BTW, I think keeping Armitron watches as a memento is probably a better bet than a string of Park Avenues.
Having always driven smaller Japanese cars like a Celica or a Z-car with a stick, I found myself driving a Buick LeSabre of a similar model year, as a rental for a family vacation.. It seemed huge in comparison to what I usually drove. The big puffy velvet seats were so comfortable that it felt like sitting on a couch in the living room. For the duration of the rental that car was referred to as “The Living Room”, whenever a family member wanted to use the car, they would ask ” where’s the keys to the living room?” After a while I found it really easy to maneuver the car and found it surprisingly very good on gas.
My grandparents bought one of these brand new in 1991 when they first came out with this body style. It was burgundy with gold trim. I was only 7 years old and it was the nicest car I had ever been in at that time. I still remember the way it smelled on the inside, that loud noise the turn signal would make, how cool the interior was with all the buttons and displays, how quiet and smooth riding it was. They were one of the first people in my small hometown to own one and I used to love going for rides around town in it because people would come up and ask about it and I would turn into a miniature salesman lol. I knew everything about that car from reading the brochure and owners manual countless times. I would sit in it and play with all the gadgets when it was parked in the garage. I would wash it for them every time I went to spend the weekend with them. I absolutely loved that car and I think that was the beginning of my car obsession. Ahhh…memories. They traded in after about 4 years when my youngest uncle graduated high school for a White Ford Thunderbird Super Coupe. That will be a story for another day.
You probably don’t want to be referring to anyone as “cholo-looking”; it’s a derogatory term. Other than that, great story! I would have traded that car in, too, had I experienced that.
Sir, I apologize but I do assure you I really do look like a cholo.
I lean like a cholo, side to side, elbows up, and all.
Could we just talk cars and not politics!
I’m glad nobody got hurt. My first car was a ‘96 Park Avenue Ultra. Of all the cars I got rid of, I miss that one the most. I loved the supercharged engine combined with the unassuming exterior.