The poor J-car. For all the good intentions and noble aspirations GM bestowed upon it, of the final ho-hum execution there are only two of them that seem to remain in the collective psyche – the Chevrolet and the Cadillac. Perhaps that is evidence of how the mind remembers the far extremes of any particular experience.
The rugged J-car is one of the few cars GM saw fit to slather upon every rung of the ever-more archaic Sloan-ian ladder, with this Pontiac being the second rung from the bottom. With the common-as-dirt Cavalier at one extreme, and the decadently tacky Cimarron on the other, it’s easy to forget about the Pontiac version (as well as the Olds and Buick variants).
It also seems like Pontiac wanted potential customers to forget about these, or at least remain ignorant about them. Every year for the first four years of its existence the Pontiac J-car had a merry-go-round of names as it was “J2000”, then simply “2000” for 1983, our featured “2000 Sunbird” for 1984, then just “Sunbird”. Four years, four names, four glorious opportunities to confuse and lose customers.
Speaking of “four”, this never-ending swapping of names reminds me of something I did as a four year-old. I was given a beautiful beagle pup by my grandfather. Any boy’s first dog is always a source of excitement and was I ever excited about this beagle. The problem was I just couldn’t decide upon a name for that energetic creature. I’d name it something on Monday and then by Wednesday conclude a different name was more fitting, thus changing his name. By Friday or Saturday the error of my dog’s current name was apparent and I would then name him something else.
That poor dog was all sorts of confused. It never did answer to anything other than “puppy-dog” due to the avoidable confusion I had inflicted upon him. In emotionless retrospect, that wonderful dog inadvertently saved himself a lot of mental turmoil by stepping in front of that ’72 Mercury Montego while I was awaiting the bus early in my kindergarten year. A quick “ka-thump” and the confusion was gone – as was my beautiful beagle.
Yet I was four years old at the time. By age six or seven I had realized my persistent changing of the dog’s name was creating an abundance of undue confusion for all involved. The confusion was so bad I cannot remember what the poor dog’s name was the day he died. That’s sad and regrettable.
I say all this because it makes me wonder if the model naming department at Pontiac was being run by a gaggle of four year-olds. This spectacle of chronic model renaming was undoubtedly confusing for the Pontiac diehards, let alone the ordinary customer. One can almost hear the conversation some imaginary, prospective customer named Ralph had with some well-meaning Pontiac salesman in 1984 (and no doubt some theme of this played out somewhere):
Ralph (full of vim and curiosity): “Hey, I’m looking for a J2000 for the old lady. What have you got?”
Salesman (trepidatiously): “Sir, that car is now the 2000 Sunbird….”
Ralph (annoyed): “What? You already cancelled the J2000? And why did GM introduce the 2000 models so early? Shit, 2000 isn’t for another sixteen years.”
Salesman (trying valiantly to take one for the team): “Sir, Pontiac has adjusted the naming scheme on their smaller cars.”
Ralph (really annoyed, with a pinch of confusion): “Why? Did the old names get worn out?”
Salesman (hoping this isn’t going to end as badly as he suspects): “No, sir. GM is of the philosophy they can leverage more synergies by strategically aligning their naming structure to project more cohesion across the brand. The 1984 2000 Sunbird…”
Ralph (torqued and feeling his vinegar): “Hold it right there, bud. Saying ‘1984 2000 Sunbird’ sounds like you are reading somebody’s obituary. I’m heading up the street to the Tie-odie dealer. Hell, they pick a name and stick with it.”
Can you blame Ralph for being turned off? In researching the various names given to the SAME BLASTED CAR the (lack of?) wisdom in GM’s doing so has me scratching my head in befuddlement. It wreaks of indecisiveness along with them scratching their collective butts in desperate hopes of hitting the sales bullseye – which, while reasonably successful with around 160,000 units in 1984, could have been even more successful had they not so merrily and enthusiastically pissed away any semblance of name recognition and brand equity.
While we’ve broached this subject many times, General Motors during the 1980s is a fascinating study in how one could, figuratively speaking, tear up a cinder block in a sandpile. That slice of history is doctoral dissertation worthy; the question is would it be better fitted for someone getting a doctorate in business or psychology?
Mentioning the waste of brand equity reminds me of something else. Sorry for the digressions but they all tie together.
A while back Mrs. Jason’s Uncle Dan passed away. He was my wife’s last uncle, and his passing left my father-in-law as the last surviving child of the ten in his family. At Dan’s memorial service there were an abundance of poster boards with pictures of Dan from childhood to recent times, the pictures having a span of about seventy years. Most of the pictures were of Dan with fish he had caught, with many of these pictures showing him holding his catch while standing in some proximity of the car he owned at that particular time.
Dan was a Pontiac man to the core. It was obvious in the pictures and all three of his children said as much. He had had several Grand Prix’s, a Bonneville, and a few others. Note the use of past tense isn’t simply because Dan is no longer of this world. Why?
By the late 1990s Dan had left Pontiac. What prompted him to leave Pontiac? I don’t know. But I have my suspicions.
For better or for worse, Pontiacs were generally of two forms during the mid- to late-1970s – Full Brougham, such as the Bonneville with its fender skirts and hood ornaments; or Full Testosterone, such as the Firebird / TransAm and those screaming buzzards. Pontiacs were obviously Pontiacs, and while some of the body panels were shared with other divisions, there was still a degree of uniqueness for those choosing a Pontiac.
Pontiac had spent many years cultivating a unique identity, different from that of Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, and Buick while doing so with cars that had an abundance of similar architecture to the other brands. If you think about it, Pontiac had reshaped its identity several times in the period between 1955 and the late 1970s.
Okay, so somebody thought tacking a different nose onto what was otherwise a Cavalier would indisputably make this J-car a convincing Pontiac to all who saw it. It appears the intent was also to remind everyone of the 1977 TransAm, a model made somewhat more prominent due to placement in various movies. Worse things have happened. But performing this type of stunt with a car that was meant to usher in the downsized 1980s created a mental picture of being pointed at the future while looking wistfully over the shoulder at what had been. It is, and was, confusing. I’m old enough to remember these buggies when new and they seemed to be radiating mixed messages even at that time.
Well, it did at least put a person in mind of a Pontiac. But any pretense of excitement was lopped off behind that heritage inspired and plastic header panel.
At the bare minimum some number of unique features could have been used in the interior. If it weren’t for saying “Pontiac” on the hub of the steering wheel, what about this car is distinguishable from an ordinary Chevrolet Cavalier? What about the use of a retro-themed header panel and marginally different tail lights on a 2000 Sunbird (or whatever Pontiac decided to call it for any year on either side of 1984) was enough to establish a premium of $577 (just under $1,500 in present worth) over that Cavalier? Same engine, same interior, different nose. Where were the elements that made it distinctively Pontiac throughout, whatever those could have evolved into?
Dan’s last car would be a Cavalier, purchased well before the demise of Pontiac. And why not? It was the same car for less money.
In reviewing the 1,300 words used to this point, a common theme has unintentionally emerged. In this discussion I’ve mentioned a dead dog, an obituary, and a deceased uncle, all while musing about a compact Pontiac, a product from a euthanized marque.
Why does this 2000 Sunbird keep reminding me of death? Nothing about that is exciting.
Found May 2013 in Hannibal, Missouri
Note: an update of an older post.
I don’t know if it applies here, but one thing Pontiac did differently from sibling division GM cars was red illuminated dash gauges. In fact, I think the whole instrument cluster was a Pontiac exclusive.
They did. But unlike the backlit gauges like the 6000 and some others, they just used red 194 bulbs. At least on my buddy’s 87 Sunbird that I worked on.
Red dash lighting fitted to the 1983 2000 only. The 1982 J2000 (including mine) had the usual GM pale-green lighting; the 1984 2000 Sunbird (and 1985-later Sunbirds) had orange-red dash lights that were a distinctively different shade than used in the ’93 2000 which was a deep, pure red. I’m surprised the ’87 used a red 194 bulb, as something had to give them a more orange-ish color when night illumination was on.
Buick also used red lighting in a few cars, like the Skyhawk and LeSabre T-Types. Other Pontiacs with deep-red lighting included special edition silver Trans Ams (late 2nd generation) and some early special edition 3rd generation Trans Ams (the ones with the Buick turbo V6 if I recall correctly), and the 1983 6000 STE which had analog gauges including a horizontal speedometer and no tack. 1984-later STEs had turquoise digital gauges (including a tach) and orange-red lighting elsewhere. In my ’82 J2000, light from the clear 194 lamps bounced off a metal panel that was painted pale green to illuminate the gauges from the front. I’m guessing both the 1983 red and 1984-later orange-red light came from 194R red bulbs with that metal panel adding the orange tint on 1984-later cars. Rear gauge lighting through translucent numbers and other markings on the gauges came along later, late ’80s or thereabouts.
I was pumping gas at the local gas station when I was in college when these were new, and a regular customer came in, driving a brand-new J2000. He wanted me to check the oil (back when gas stations still did that), when I popped the hood, there was a Brazilian “Family Two” engine under the hood! Another regular customer bought a brand-new Fiero, and all I could think of was that GM put the wrong engines in the wrong cars! Later I heard that the Brazilian Family Two engine had “issues”, but at the time, I thought that that little 2.0L mill would have been a much better fit in the Fiero’s engine bay!
Actually, the 3rd generation Sunbird (1988-1994) was quite sporty. We had one as a company car for a few years. Company car, credit card for gas, maintenance included. It was “opium on wheels”.
I liked the looks of the 4 door, and it’s nice how it stayed that way for its entire run. Wasn’t a fan of how they changed the rear roofline for 88 with the Cavalier and Sunbird.
My buddy’s sister had a 93 4 door, bright red, and it looked good. At the time GM was into doing the whole split radio thing on several models, and the later Sunbirds got it. Didn’t so much care for that, but it wasn’t mine.
Only the coupes (and maybe convertibles) got the new roofline. Sedans and wagons had the same doors, windows, and roofs they had since 1982. The 1988 revisions to the coupe did add folding rear seatbacks and a low-liftover trunk opening, features the sedans never got. Perhaps it was because the hatchback coupes were dropped that same year, and the ability to carry long items like ladders or Christmas trees in the coupe may have prevented lost sales to those who would have bought hatchbacks if they were still available.
Most of these did have a different engine than the Cavalier – an Opel-designed, Brazilian made ohc 1.8 in place of the Cav’s 2.0 ohv and I think multi point instead of throttle body EFI. That may not have been the case for first year ’82s though, I know the Chevy had a carbed 1.8 version of their pushrod engine that year.
In fact it may have been the last ever Pontiac to get a different engine than the equivalent Chevy apart from the old holdover B bodies.
That “OHC/FI” was the only thing leaning me away from getting one of these when they were in abundance. I’m not a fan of timing belts to begin with. And from what had I heard, they were finicky if they ran at all. If I ever did find one in a condition I couldn’t pass up, I’d be swapping in a 3.1 MPFI. I always loved the looks of these and they were my favorite J body.
Unlike the earlier 2.0 which is a perfect example of a GM car running badly longer than most cars run at all. I got the one my dad had, he overheated it big time and it still always ran good enough, and never had coolant in the oil. Big wire loom cooked against the exhaust manifold another time, patched it up in a gas station and kept on going. Sold it to someone who took it cross country and back without problems. My cousin had one and never changed the oil, put about 50k on it before he traded it and it still ran fine.
The 1982 J2000 came standard with the same carbureted OHV 1.8 four as the Cavalier and Cimarron that year. Late in the model year, the Brazilian OHC 1.8 became optional (i believe only with the automatic trans), which was also used in the Buick Skyhawk. The Pontiac and Buick were the only US J bodies that used that engine. Starting in 1983 the Chevy, Olds Firenza, and Cimarron used an enlarged 2.0L version of OHV engine, now fitted with fuel injection. The Pontiac stuck with the 1.8 OHC which was later enlarged to 2.0L with optional turbocharging, as was the Skyhawk. The other 3 J-bodies would offer the Chevy 2.8 V6 (later enlarged to 3.1L) as the higher-performance option, while the four-cylinder was enlarged to 2.2L. There were lots of little differences amongst J-cars even if they all looked almost alike.
I’ve searched for information on the background on Pontiac’s shift to (and reversal from) the alpha-numeric naming convention. Other than the J2000/2000/2000 Sunbird, T1000/1000, and 6000 (shouldn’t it have started as an A6000??) the only thing I can find is that “P3000” was being considered instead of Fiero. I’ve imagined the Phoenix becoming X4000 and subsequent Grand Am becoming the N4000, and Firebird as F5000. And how does the Bonneville Model G fit in? Has anyone found or done a full write up on it?
GM’s internal designation for the Fiero before it was named and released was the “P-Car” or “P-Body” platform, so P3000 makes sense. I’m glad that name didn’t make the final cut though, given the Fiero’s well-documented teething pains. All I can think of is the slew of pee jokes that would follow the car’s stained reputation, LOL!
The only other thing that comes to mind when I think of the term “P-Body” is the old Peabody & Sherman cartoons on “The Bullwinkle Show”! “Hello. Peabody, here. With his pet boy, Sherman. Where are we going today Mr. Peabobdy?”
In the 90s when I was getting JC Whitney catalogs, they referred to the 6000 as an “A-6000”. That’s the only place I’ve seen it in print or anywhere else. It made sense, but didn’t actually exist.
Just like they had the disclaimer on most wheel covers “will not fit older Eldorado, Toronado, and Riviera”. While the cars shared a platform name, the older Riviera remained RWD and didn’t have those wheels with the huge offset like the other two.
But I wonder if the 6000 was meant to have an actual name? Or had one anywhere else? Like in Canada the T-1000 was the Acadian.
According to car magazines and other publications at the time, Pontiac did intend to call their A-body the A6000, the Fiero the P3000 and such, with the letter being the Fisher Body type designation and the next digit correlating to the relative position in the Pontiac lineup pricewise and usually sizewise. I did see the Pontiac dealer ordering guides which referred to their new 1982 mid-size sedans as the A6000, so the “A” must have been removed at the last moment. Perhaps Pontiac realized highlighting the GM body designation would only emphasize any “badge engineering” rather than Pontiac having distinct cars. Another issue was that Audi was then selling cars called the 4000 and 5000, so Pontiac may have had issues using those as model names (although you can’t trademark a numeric or alphanumeric nomenclature in the US). The Acadian dates from the late ’70s before Pontiac switched to alphanumerics, one of several Canada-only Chevrolet clones. I think Pontiac Canada switched from Acadian to 1000 after the US model was first introduced in the early ’80s.
I’m here to honor “puppy-dog”.
This is due to the fact that I both know beagles (a decidedly un-trainable order of dogs..this comes from first-hand experience) and my belief that animals only barely put up with humans’ need to assign them names. Whether or not they have names as we understand them is a mystery. They do respond to the sound patterns of those who feed them and shower them with attention.
My cat seems to respond to “Mister”, as well as “Mister Cat”, “Mister Fatty”, and “A**hole”. They all seem to work. And none are his given name (which is “Johnny”…which is nowhere near as entertaining as Mr. Fatty).
As they say, You can call me anything, but late to dinner. The same idea seems to apply to pets as to Pontiac Sunbirds.
You are likely right about animal’s tolerance of names. My daughter has had cats that responded the same whether it was their name or “kitty”. We currently have a feral cat that showed up five or six years ago…he has tamed somewhat (he gladly steps into the house when it’s cold out) and responds the same as the inside cats to either “Julius” (he’s orange) or “Kitty”. I may have been guilty of called him the last name you have used with your cat. Plus another name or two about his parentage…
Cats consistently recognize their familiar humans’ voices and the tone that means “talking to cat”; whether they distinguish individual words is highly variable generally.
Pontiac’s whole ‘x-thousand’ naming scheme seems unbelievably corny. I recall reading – I think it was in Car and Driver – a quote from some management genius to the effect that the 6000 was like the Audi 5000 only a thousand better. Really? And sufficient people in management thought this was a good idea? And thought it was worth spreading to the entire range? Er, guys – didn’t the 5000 (US-only name) have a bad reputation in your country? And you want to hitch your brand to this in the public mind? Okay, it’s your company…..
No wonder Pontiac died.
Putting nomenclature aside, you make good points. With the J-cars, it seems GM reached rock-bottom product-wise. The bean-counters had stripped out any meaningful point of difference between this and a Chevy – unless you got one with the Family Two engine. That would have (in theory, maybe not so much in US tune) been a difference worth paying for.
Well, that was the one I bought. I got an ’83, with the 1.8 l OHC/FI engine, five speed manual, sport suspension, rally steering wheel. Didn’t keep it too long, too slow for me at the time. It was easy on gas thought.
A guy I worked with bought one of these new the same day I bought my 1984 Honda Civic sedan. He took me for a ride, very proud of his choice. I didn’t say anything.
Then I took him for a ride in mine.
You could see his heart sink.
A very interesting article about nomenclature and the hubris and recklessness that often accompanies it. Also a teachable moment that a 4 year-old should not be gifted a dog (not a toy) to predictably die a tragic early death and also to be referred to as “a dead dog” by the author of this post and the owner of this poor creature.
Long ago I realized I’m not the sharpest pencil in the box, but I’m lost with your second sentence. Rereading what I wrote (this article is a repeat, written six or seven years ago) I somehow keep missing any reference to the dog as a toy. Also, I’ve long been under the impression (perhaps wrongly) that a dog which is no longer living is a “dead dog”. Similar would be case for “deceased uncle” used in the same sentence – which you didn’t mention. Perhaps I overlooked the teachable moment there, also.
Buick also played the name game with their N-body coupe just a few years later, with three names in four years. It was the “Somerset Regal” for 1985 (not to be confused with the Regal Somerset, which was a trim package for the larger 1980-81 Regal), then just “Somerset” in 1986 and 87, then “Skylark” starting in 1988. Further confusing things, in ’86 and ’87 the four-door Buick N-body was called Somerset if it had two doors, Skylark if it had four.