When my second Scirocco left me stranded after a major component failure that followed a series of many smaller failures, I knew I needed a new car. But as a poor college student, I was going to have to rely on my mother’s generosity. Even though I didn’t have to argue the point – she knew it was time to replace the VW – I wasn’t overly optimistic. She was typically quite stingy.
I obviously wanted something reliable. I hoped for something fun to drive. I was dubious I’d wind up with something I’d really like. As it turned out, I was unduly pessimistic: My mother showed unexpected largesse and reserved a new 1989 Integra for me at her local dealer a few days later. Curiously, I have no clear recollection of how we arrived at an Acura. I probably proposed taking her BMW (her biggest ever indulgence), but it was five years old by then, with increasing maintenance costs – in other words, not a good option for the impecunious. I do remember the Integra, a car that definitely was on my radar, was surprisingly affordable – only $10,500. That no doubt had a lot to do with the decision. The car was a year- and model-end closeout, as the second generation Integras were going to hit the market soon. And I wound up with an RS, the base model, with AC as the only option. There wasn’t even a radio, though I added an all treble, no bass 4-speaker Pioneer system a few weeks later.
Regardless, I was thrilled. As befitted Honda at that time. design was clean and simple inside and out. It was comfortable, ergonomics were good, and it felt even peppier and more nimble than my two Sciroccos. More importantly, fit and finish and material quality were excellent. This was new to me – and not just compared to my previous rattletraps. This was the era when Japanese manufacturers were significantly raising the bar in terms of quality. The second- and third-hand VWs, Chevys and Fords most of us college kids drove were junk in comparison – and often even on their own terms. And we (and our parents) noticed.
As excited as I was about the new car, I was somewhat less thrilled at dinner that evening. My girlfriend, who’d driven me from Athens to Atlanta to pick up the car, said out of the blue to my mother, “Did Eric tell you I’m pregnant?” I looked on in stunned silence, the excitement over my new ride instantly evaporating, and my mother – who’d never even met the girl until that day – angrily exclaimed, “What?!” After several awkward seconds, realizing she’d misjudged the moment, my girlfriend meekly clarified, “I was just kidding.” She wasn’t a particularly funny person. But she was very cute. I mumbled in hormonal ardor, “Ah. Okay then.” My mother? She took me aside after the meal and said, “Be careful with this one.”
Beyond paternity scares, my early memories of the car are mostly with her. She had a Cavalier that was as decrepit as my old Scirocco and frumpy to boot, so I was quite happy to drive wherever. In addition to dates, errands and class drop-offs, we took a handful of weekend excursions to Atlanta and one long trip to Charlottesville to see friends of mine. On the way back, seeing I was tired of driving, she volunteered to take the wheel at some point near Charlotte. After we switched places, I realized I’d seen her drive only an automatic. When I asked her if she knew how to drive a stick, she replied, “I’ve tried a couple of times.” Grinding of gears commenced as we jerked our way onto I-85. But she did okay on the interstate, making my stay in the passenger’s seat only somewhat nerve-wracking.
Over the next year, my last 12 months in Athens, I drove the hell out of the Acura. I started a part-time job at a law firm, initially as a go-fer but increasingly as a research assistant. I dropped off and picked up documents at courthouses in at least a dozen Georgia towns and made several trips to Emory to access medical texts. I also took regular trips home, as well as some to Birmingham and one to Jacksonville with a subsequent girlfriend, who had a different sense of humor than my previous one. By the time I’d had the car a year, I’d put 24,000 miles on it. It provided steadfast service. Other than an occasional kink in the AC drain line, nothing broke, nothing rattled obnoxiously, nothing beeped incessantly, and nothing seized up. I made sure to change the oil and rotate the tires at recommended intervals but the car was so well engineered, it probably would have soldiered on trouble-free even if I hadn’t. Talk about a welcome change.
My time with the car ended for almost three years in early 1991, when I took a big leap and moved to Tokyo to find meaningful employment. The George Bush Sr. recession and first Gulf War combined to create a terrible job market for recent college grads like me. A friend who’d graduated from UVA not long before I completed my studies (and had been in the hillbilly wrecker ride I related in my first COAL segment) had been teaching English in Tokyo and encouraged me to give it a try. After a few anxious weeks of looking, I found a job that I kept until I returned to Atlanta in the fall of 1993.
Not long after I left, my mother sold her BMW to a friend of mine (who quickly discovered just how expensive maintaining an aging German car could be) and took command of the Integra. She liked it so much, she bought a new 1993 upon my return and gave the ’89 back to me. I drove it trouble-free for the next several months, mostly to and from dissatisfying temp jobs.
In the summer of 1994, the woman who became my wife took a summer internship in New York and invited me to stay with her as I looked for permanent employment there. She flew to Atlanta from the Bay Area, where she was in grad school, and we then took the Integra to New York. I parked it for a month at a garage near Riverside Drive, hemorrhaging what little money I had. Fortunately, I found gainful employment by August.
Before I started the job, I drove back to Atlanta and, because New York was an expensive and insalubrious place to own a car, said goodbye to the Acura once and for all. It had been a very faithful steed and drove as well with 70,000 miles on it as it did new. Two Salvadoran brothers bought it almost as soon as the ink on the AJC classified dried, excited that they could take it home with them to Central America. I was sad to see it go but happy it found a home with people who were really excited to call it their own. And I had a good benchmark for future vehicles whenever I’d be in the market again. As I prepared to bite the Big Apple, that seemed a long way off.
Related CC reading:
1986-1989 Acura Integra – Was This The Most Satisfying ’80s Honda?
Vintage Car And Driver Review: 1986 Acura Integra LS – Nicely Integrated
Curbside Classic: 1989 Acura Integra LS – A Hot Hatch For The Civic Minded
Curbside Classic: 1988 Honda Quint Integra GSi (DA1) Notchback Saloon – Squinty McQuintface
Great story and similar to my own in many ways. I also graduated from university during the Bush Sr recession. I couldn’t find anything to do and was forced into working on the family business, which I hated. I got sick of that and went to Japan to teach English. The salary looked good at the time, but the cost of living was quite high in 1991, as Japan was still in its bubble economy. From Japan I moved to South Korea, where I got a job as a university professor.
The Integra was a great car, real peak Honda. They were everywhere back in the day and finding one that hasn’t “customized” in some way would be rather difficult
The early 1990s job market was just terrible here. The bubble was rapidly deflating in Japan but it was still fairly easy to get an English teaching job there. I was in Tokyo, which was pretty expensive at the time, but prices and wages didn’t change for the next 30+ years. It was the damnedest thing. (They’ve gone up a bit since the pandemic.)
I think I would have a hard time giving up that car. They don’t really make them like that anymore. Great story.
I still miss my 1988 Acura Integra. LS 4 door automatic.
What I miss about this era was that it was very difficult to see that the Civic and Integra were closely related, with completely different bodies and engines not available in the Civic. Today, the Integra is just a Civic hatchback with a slightly different front- and rear-end.
I really liked this version of the Integra
In fact my father in law and I were in the market for two-one for each of us. His was going to be silver and mine black. Both two doors and both were to be the top line model (LS?) But alas in the south Florida market, there was simply no negotiation, even if leasing were the option.
My FIL was already driving an 88 Legend so he thought for sure they’d do business. We walked.
Interesting enough, we waited a few years and both ended up with S10 Blazers! GM was so big into discounts!
You mean Rick Case Acura wasn’t willing to do a little business? I know they made a lot of money on slimy deals, like when they “sold” my cousin Lori, in her first post-divorce purchase, an Integra that turned out to be a lease.
Yes! Rick Case! And Paul leased 5 other Acura models from them. His last one-an 04 TL after his RL- was his last. He drove it three months when he began to smell gasoline one morning. He stopped, and opened the hood to find fuel spraying from an injector. That was all! He leased a new Pacifica (the old style) which he never really had issues with. Then he went to a Dodge Journey (a big misstep) a 12 Grand Cherokee (a remarkable vehicle) an 18 Escape and finally a way too expensive 21 CRV (a COAL of its own!)
Cindy and I had them live with us till the end and taking his keys away was really a trying affair.
What kind of sick joke was that? Pregnancy scares are what passes for humour?
I’d probably reply, “who’s the father? We haven’t even been intimate yet.”
She was actually sweet, just insecure and needy. I think she was looking for positive affirmation, in the hopes that kind of news (fallacious or not) was welcome. As a sorority girl in the Deep South of almost 40 years ago, she was in a husband-hunting environment.
I’m surprised that Acura ever had such a base model that it didn’t include a radio as standard equipment. I could understand if it was a Honda Civic or Toyota Corolla but not an Acura. I was 10 years old in 1989 and living in East Cobb county and these Integras were everywhere!
There is something wonderful about a car that just starts every morning, and you never have to think about it.
I had a professor who did research work for a big law firm in New York. I always think about him every time I open up NMOnesource and start researching for my little practice, and whether that sort of job even exists anymore.
“There wasn’t even a radio, though I added an all treble, no bass 4-speaker Pioneer system a few weeks later.”
I’m curious to know how that job was if you did it yourself. No wiring harnesses or anything from scratch? Routing wiring to the speaker locations? I did radio upgrades in my 1980s rides (all GM), and Crutchfield had factory DIN kits with wiring harnesses. Basically remove the factory radio, unplug, install the new radio, and done. Factory speakers were easily swapped as well, the only thing to ensure was driver magnet depth didn’t exceed mounting location depth.
I think everything was set up for installation when I got the car. I took it to an auto audio place and it didn’t take too long (maybe a couple of hours) for them to add a sound system. I’m almost certain there were speaker recesses in the doors. I don’t remember if they needed to add cutouts in the deck. Probably.
It didn’t bother me at the time, but the Integra was buzzy. Lots of road noise made it into the cabin. That meant the volume needed to be turned up pretty high for music to be audible. But weak bass and high treble meant my ears would be ringing after about 45 minutes. I remember listening to Husker Du’s “New Day Rising” on one drive and feeling like bees were swarming all around me. I never played that one in the car again.
Must be nice having your mom buy you a new Acura as a “surprise” car in college.
I’m not surprised you found it a good car, Honda was hitting it’s stride then .
Good cars and good looking to my eyes as well .
All gone now sad to say, the tertiary owners, almost always ricky-racers or Low Riders, just beat them to death .
My son had a 2nd generation Integra Coupe loaded with legal in California modifications so it screamed ~ seriously, when the tach needle passed 8,000 RPM you got shoved back in the seats and if not careful with the throttle you’d break traction .
He beat it like a rented mule and managed to chew up _three_ transmissions but it never hiccuped once .
-Nate