Seeing this Oldsmobile 98 was simply too good to pass up. Apart from the number of doors, it is a frightfully close facsimile of the 1969 Oldsmobile owned by my parents’ neighbor Orville, someone we met long ago. Seeing it brought back all manner of auditory and olfactory memories. Let’s revisit, in that tried manner, the emotions and memories these top-of-the-line 98 models bring about. And consider the tagline “Strong, silent, and in the classic tradition” Olds used at the time in its marketing materials.
Maybe these recollections are an easy way of celebrating a car that stimulates recollections that are too stout in my mind and these memories are seeking a figurative release.
To prove I have done some modicum of actual research for this CC, I was hoping to tie in Oldsmobile’s advertising tagline for 1969, whatever that may have been.
The first one I found was talking about Oldsmobile, well the 98 at least, being strong, silent, and in the classic tradition. In a sneak-peek of the brain cramp that GM would become, their advertising for Oldsmobile wasn’t exclusively about the strong, silent, and traditional. Oh no, that year Oldsmobile mottos were nine kinds of inconsistent. Or maybe it was just an advertising gimmick. Regardless, it was weird.
A horny looking Rudolph Valentino impersonator doesn’t seem to gel with the traditional and/or stereotypical Oldsmobile customer base. It looks like the one caressing the hood of the 98 is enjoying the afterglow of Rudy’s affections while the gal in the background picture has a look of trepidation, bordering on terror, knowing she is about to be deflowered by an insatiable Rudy. Or something like that.
Catchy, but not necessarily in a good way.
Oh, wait. It’s nothing but a tie into the Youngmobile Thinking of 1969. It seems the “Not Your Father’s Oldsmobile” campaign of the late 1980s had an equally ludicrous ancestor. Please note the brochure to which I was referring, identical to this one yet absent the Toronado reference, was being bashful about downloading but it can be found here.
All throughout the 1969 Oldsmobile brochure there were recreations of scenes from various old movies. Youngmobile…old movies…Oldsmobile…makes sense to me. Not. But it was 1969. From the perspective of one born three years after our featured Oldsmobile, little about 1969 makes sense. Then again, maybe that was Young(Old?)mobile’s point?
I cannot think of anything this contingent would have in common other than exaggerated facial features. It’s a stretch to believe Cleopatra, a member of the French Foreign Legion, and a Zorro looking character would all have a heaping hankering for a new Oldsmobile. That said, the woman up front has a remarkable resemblance to Alla, the delightful Russian lady who teaches ballet to my daughter. But Alla drives a Camry, one equipped like the spiritual descendant of a good Oldsmobile.
At least GM didn’t use the horror movie inspired Dr. Oldsmobile throughout the entire line. That does demonstrate some degree of cognizance about their customer base, unlike with the 98, as this was intended for the performance cars springing from Olds. The Dr. Olds campaign stuck around through at least 1971, with the ads depicting a mustachioed doctor. It does appear different actors portrayed the good doctor over time.
So with all this diving into weird brochures, where does Orville fit into all this?
Orville had been a small business owner, being the proprietor of the local tavern. With the 98 being intended for those having a certain degree of social standing, it seems to be a natural fit for Orville. Successful small business owners driving an Olds 98 made perfect sense.
When we met Orville long ago, when a 1976 Oldsmobile 98 was featured (although Orville’s was a 1975, as seen here), the general theme was about his having used that particular Olds to truck materials and equipment when he built a house in the mid- to late-1980s. Orville was just over 80 years old at the time and was a fabulous representative of a long-ago generation, being the strong, silent, and classic tradition man, just like the 1969 Oldsmobile 98.
Well, Orville was strong and in the classic tradition. He was not a silent person, much like his 1969 Oldsmobile, and my mother thought he yelled a lot. However, I am of the opinion Orville was highly animated and had a voice that carried quite well.
One prime example of Orville not being silent was with his grandson Justin, who was my age. Justin was the free-spirited type, with a perpetual smile on his face, not getting too concerned about much of anything, traits that are generally instinctual to a degree in fifteen year-old boys, but greatly amplified in Justin’s case.
While there was about two hundred feet between the houses, seeing the goings-on at Orville’s house was accomplished by standing at my parents’ kitchen sink. That particular day, Orville needed the trash burned and thought Justin should do it. The ’69 Oldsmobile was parked too close to the burn barrel so Orville was directing the activities. Orville had a particular order in which he wanted tasks performed, but he was giving poor Justin too much input in too short of a time frame.
Justin had no trouble in realizing the Olds needed to be moved. He hit the starter motor with gusto, that Oldsmobile 455 V8 coming to life through a rather unmuted exhaust system. Dropping that Olds in gear, Justin stood on the throttle, spinning the rear wheels and slinging dirt and rock all over the place, all without much forward motion.
I grew up in an area that had a certain hierarchy in verbal coaching. It was a two stage process. For minor infractions, the Level One coaching would begin with “Jason, dammit…” and for more major infractions, Level Two would be “Dammit, Jason…”. One immediately knew where they stood.
Orville had ramped his coaching up a notch, having four levels. Perhaps he enjoyed the variety. Level Three mimicked Level One with Level Four mimicking Level Two, the only difference being a reference to God before use of the word “dammit”. Justin’s slinging crap all over creation instantaneously sent Orville to a Level Four.
More admonishment was administered and Justin again put the 98 in Drive. Second verse same as the first. This particular song had multiple verses with Orville maintaining a red-faced Level Four throughout. No doubt Justin’s perpetual smile did nothing to soften Orville’s disposition. He likely thought Justin was mocking him.
That episode confirmed what I had always heard about Orville – don’t mess with him. I wouldn’t have anyway; I had heard the story about Orville’s interactions with two rowdy and mouthy 20-somethings one night in the tavern. Orville had politely asked them to settle down and they refused to do so. Things escalated and Orville proceeded to whoop the shit out of both those guys and threw them through the front door into the street. Orville was only sixty-seven years old at the time.
Another episode involving Orville’s older Olds 98 involved his wife Irene’s grandson.
Irene was a good twenty years younger than Orville. I’m not sure of her history but she was frequently visited by her daughter who drove a white and phenomenally straight 1964 Chrysler Town & Country wagon. At the time I could not fathom why anybody would be daily driving a ridiculous quarter-century old wagon, but we all mature. I’d love to see that wagon again.
Irene’s daughter had a son and daughter. The older child, Matthew, was five or six at the time. Matthew was an exceptionally handsome child with very wide and expressive eyes, with a personality that could have easily helped him later become the southern Illinois version of Rudolph Valentino.
Hmm, maybe that Olds ad wasn’t too far off the mark.
Anyway, Matthew was full of energy and was even more successful in raising Orville’s dander than was Justin. The most vivid example was when Orville was outside burning the trash one day.
As an aside, trash burning day at Orville’s was a mixed bag for those of us next door. There was entertainment aplenty but it came at a cost. It seems Matthew’s mother brought her trash to Orville and Irene’s. Her trash included the disposable diapers dirtied by Matthew and his sister. Ever smelled burning disposable diapers? It smells like a combination of very good barbecue and hot vomit. It’s really hard to describe but we were very happy when Matthew and his sister were finally potty-trained.
I digress.
My earlier exposé of Orville revealed how Matthew had built a mountain of gravel on the trunk lid of Orville’s 1976 Olds 98. Matthew was a determined child, undeterred by the temper of his step-grandfather. I was outside the day Matthew decided to ramp his Tonka sized plastic trucks on the ’69 Olds. He would place them on the trunk lid and hurl them towards the rear glass, intently watching them fly through space and come back to earth.
By this point, Orville was in his late 80s and periodically using a cane. Mentally, he was sharp as ever but age was slowing him down, much to his annoyance. Orville walked out the back door just in time to see Matthew send a tandem axle dump truck on a mission over the C-pillar of his beloved Oldsmobile.
Matthew realized the wisdom in ceasing all activity before Orville got to him. I was doing yard work close enough to hear him try to sweet-talk Orville down from his Level Four status. Somehow, Matthew was successful. A true Rudy in the making.
However, it was obvious Orville loved those kids. He never laid a hand on them despite their behavior conflicting with his constitution. Other than the avoided damage to some glass, Orville likely knew his Oldsmobile was none the worse for wear.
Rare is the time I have seen a 1969 Oldsmobile 98, either now or back in the day. Despite General Motors having built over 100,000 of them, my lifetime sighting of 1959 Edsels have been more frequent. So seeing this posted to the Cohort was terrific.
While Orville would be pushing 120 years old these days, there is a part of me who strongly suspects his Oldsmobile 98 is still out there. The world is a better place for having had both of them.
Dear Jason, I just sat down in front of the computer for a short spell. The CC article in the “In Box” detracted me. AND AM I GLAD! I am dying of laughter at your excellent raconteur ability! What a fine trip to a time in your life for all of us to enjoy! AS for those ads for the 1969 Oldsmobile – HUH? The purported doctor in the black-and-white ad looks like Sonny Bono. So many of our neighbors drove Oldsmobiles who also dressed as Medieval Knights in Shining Armor and other extraneous characters. Believe me and I can tell you another. Great essay which I enjoy from your mind to the paper – or electronic screen. Tom
I well remember men like Orville, my life was greatly improced by their efforts .
This nice side of the road car looks pretty good .
-Nate
Looks to be rather healthy.
Well as for the Olds brochure not making much sense, it WAS the late ’60s, and as is said: “if you can remember the ’60s you probably weren’t there”. Being age 15 to 20 from 1965 to ’70, I DO remember having a Very Good Time doing a lot of things that I’d certainly never try again, or want to (driving drunk on a motorcycle at 2 AM for instance).
As for the Olds, great cars, but like Caddy, staring to slip. ’68 is the last of the ones I’d want… but still…it was the tail end of GM’s greatest era.
Movies from the 20s and 30s were popular with kids in the late Sixties. They were “camp”. I remember seeing posters of Theda Bara, Valentino, WC Fields and others. We’d grown up with ‘Little Rascals’ shorts from the ’30s, King Kong, Betty Boop, Bugs Bunny cartoons and Universal Films horror movies. We audibly mocked our elders while silently digging their culture. There was no internet and the 4:30 movie on channel 9 ran the old movies because the copyrights had run out and they were cheap to put on the air. It was kinda like today’s kids crushing on ‘Star Wars’ and ‘Back to the Future’ but without the obsessive toy collecting and dressing up.
Yeah, I think we ‘Jonsers’ kind of saw the charm in the olden days – we were the first actual TV-generation.
The olden days were definitely pre-colour.
Charlie Chaplin et al still resonated, though we found the slapstick a tad ‘crude’ after Monty Python etc.
‘Camp’ is a great way to describe the old films. Though frankly, I don’t give a damn…
I can actually see the connection between the Oldsmobile 98 and silent movies. In 1969, most buyers of the senior Oldsmobiles probably remember going to silent moves. Some even likely remember bringing their children with them. I’m not sure if that was the intention, but maybe it was…
These Olds 98s were quite common when new in northeastern Indiana where I grew up. Small business owners were definitely part of the buyer metrics for the car. This particular two-door hardtop in that exact color combination was very popular – a next door neighbor in Fort Wayne, where I was living at the time, had a copy of this exact car. And he took meticulous care of it through all seasons. Good memories.
When I was a kid, our next-door neighbor’s adult son, a dentist, would come to visit him in the summer driving his ’69 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight 4-Door Hardtop that I admired. It was the same gold color and had a black vinyl roof just like the one in the picture. The slightly smaller, lower-priced, and arguably sportier-looking Delta 88s were pretty sharp looking too.
I’ve reached the point in my life where now I’m the same age as Orville. I’m sad that there isn’t much in the way of upper-middle-priced, near-luxury sedans for someone like me anymore. Maybe a Toyota Crown? The new for ’27 Lexus ES? Genesis G70?
I don’t know about Orville, but back in 1969 I $old a nu ’98 LS that looked like the Aztec Gold one pictured. It was a “memorable” deal as the husband was a rather over bearing type and his wife was the opposite; as a matter of fact she rather $aved the deal for me. I had agreed to deliver the 98 to them at their house. Unfortunately I then got into a “DI$CU$$ION” @ the license plate fee…which Mr Overbearing did NOT want to pay all of. As I was not at the dealership I was at a bit of a disadvantage-remember no cell phones at that time. Finally his wife took him aside and gave him a bit of a tongue lashing about doing this to me; he finally relented and did pay the agreed to total amount for his nu 98 LS. I NEVER delivereed any cars except at the dealership after that! So much for trying to please a customer. DFO
hehehehehehehehehehehe wonderful recollections in your inimitably humorous style Jason
Following on from Don above, I remember reading about the hippie musicians and artists in San Francisco making it a thing to collect Tiffany glass, lamps and suchlike, and reside in old mansions decorated to that earlier period but with the laissez faire attitude of 1965-67. I’ve noticed these ads in National Geographics and wondered why the reference to olden times, and think maybe it was these bayside trendsetters who informed this marketing – albeit a couple of years too late.
Absolutely. And not just in SF; vintage clothing and decor and such were all the rage at the time. It was all part of the anti-establishment mindset. You can take that right back to Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and earlier. It was a revolt against the plastic-brutalist aesthetic of the time.
This Olds and campaign was just reflecting that, albeit a couple of years later, not surprisingly.
I wonder if that Olds is still for sale? It would look great in my collection!
I would have handled that differently…
“Son, what did we just learn about cars today?”
“Never floor the accelerator while parked on grass?”
Late on the uptake here, but what a fantastic post!
The Oldsmobile “Youngmobile” ads are just hilarious. I have seen these over the years, and it’s not lost on anyone who has any idea of cinema history that those late 1960s ads (despite their pop-art graphics) referenced silent movies of the 1920s. In other words, 50 year old films from the youth of the senior citizens (in 1968) that Oldsmobile was attempting to market to. It was ALWAYS your father’s Oldsmobile. Even if your father was likely going on to be your grandfather and still alive in 1968.
I recently saw the early Zorro films referenced in these ads (1920…Douglas Fairbanks and Noah Berry. Noah being the actual father of the actor who played OLD GUY Jim Rockford’s father from the Rockford Files of my youth…and I am currently an old guy). Despite the fact that I watched a performance that included a live Wurlitzer theater organ, it was incredibly boring.
Perfect. I have to imagine that readers (are there any “readers” any longer?) born after the 3/4 mark of of the previous century, and in particular outside of the rural locations that were quite common at that time, would have no idea about the need to burn trash. I grew up with the practice of burning trash…at my mother’s childhood home about 30 miles outside of Washington, DC. Going out to burn trash with my uncle was a fixture of my youth. We burned trash some distance from the house (as opposed to the non-burnable trash which was thrown in a hole known as “the old ice house” which was next to the house)…because Grandma wasn’t keen on the smell or smoke; although both were considered simple facts of life.
Man, I loved that.
Thanks for that memory (which I’ve not encountered outside of your article for maybe about 40 years).
My Dad had 2 spinster Aunts who were considered “well to do” in the family (compared to his family which were always short of money) who always bought Oldsmobiles from the same Ertley dealership on Market Street in Kingston PA. One of them passed in 1968, my Uncle bought their prior 1962 Olds F85 and proclaimed that they’d been sold a “hot rod” engine that he could barely keep on the road. Wonder if it was the 330 V8 my Dad got in his only Oldsmobile, a ’65 F85 wagon he bought new. Anyhow, the surviving Aunt Stella bought a ’69 in this same gold color, hers was a 4 door. mile
The distinction is that we never lived anywhere closer than about a 4 hour drive from my relatives in PA…currently we live 1750 miles away, up to about 2011 we pretty regularly drove that distance and back about once a year…but before that we flew and in lieu of a rental car we’d drive one of the “extra” cars my Uncle kept around. Aunt Stella had a stroke maybe about 1977 or so, the Olds went to my Uncle as one of those extra cars. So I got a chance to drive it on vacation years ago (it is long gone now) with my Grandmother in the back (she never learned to drive…neither of my Grandmothers drove) and my Dad as front passenger and my dear departed Mother in the back (she just left us a month ago . I was in the hospitals and nursing homes with her and didn’t have much time to read nor post till now, her having been ailing basically the whole season of winter). Anyhow I think that ’69 is the oldest car I’ve ever driven…guess I live a sheltered life. It was a nice ride, now I’m the target age for one of these and of course they no longer sell them new.
To all contributors, and the author, a big “thank you.” Your recollections brought to the forefront of my aging noggin great memories. Family roadtripping, grandmothers that did not drive, burning trash in a big old barrel out back (of our house), and trying, trying so hard to satisfy customers. We all remember, together. I like to think that the greatest generation succeeded for the next, too.