Establishing your own, separate identity outside of your parents’ household in young adulthood is a necessary stage of personal growth. This can take a lot of different forms, but in my own life, this idea manifested itself in many of the usual ways, including the way I styled myself including hair and clothing, habits, musical tastes, life philosophies, and many other such things. Growing up with a parent who was deeply narcissistic, I strove fruitlessly to gain that parent’s approval by trying to be “good” and the kind of son and person I thought would make a parent proud, not fully understanding at the time that such a pursuit in my case would be as endless and pointless as Sisyphus eternally pushing that rock up the hill. I had surrendered much of my own power, strengths, and persona in allowing someone else I had trusted to become something of a focus for me, instead of working toward fully realizing and embracing who I was. Thankfully, my own course was eventually corrected.
By the time I entered college, though, I was more of a mindset that I was simply entering “thirteenth grade” and was still very much married to the image of the clean-cut, respectable, do-right, feel-good dude that I had tried with some success to cultivate for and of myself up to that point. There were the preppy clothes, a conservative haircut (once my hair had grown back from my first, disastrous attempt at shaving my head against the grain), an antiseptic lack of any outward, discernable vices or questionable behavior, and a taste for the happy, peppy pop music that had quickly fallen out of favor with the rise of grunge, alternative rock, and grittier expressions of hip-hop and rap.
One of the beautiful things about life on a college campus is the exposure to all kinds of ideas and personal expressions a young adult would miss out on, otherwise. In this current age of learning remotely, with that mode currently being necessary amid the pandemic, I lament that some may never experience in their formative years of early adulthood the ability to discover other ways of thinking, being, acting, and doing through face-to-face interactions with other people. In my own case, I met many new and interesting people in that exciting time of my life, many with whom I am still happily in contact today.
I have always had a good mix of both male and female friends, but have always seemed to make female friends more easily. I started to feel uncomfortable with some of the guys on my dorm floor with whom I had nothing in common trying to buddy up to me in the hope of some introductions to, and action from, those ladies that I wasn’t getting. Life in the proverbial closet was both suffocating and yet a comfortable-seeming kind of pain for me, so I basically just checked out and tried to ignore that part of myself. By my second year of college, I had changed my entire look and demeanor into something much darker in what I later came to realize might have been an attempt to uglify myself on the outside to more closely align with how I felt on the inside. I realize this entry has been almost entirely autobiographical up until this point, but there is a tie-in with our featured car.
In my mind, there is not a more wholesome, all-American, and popular personal luxury coupe than the Chevrolet Monte Carlo. The Monte may not possess that many superlatives, like being the most powerful, best-equipped, most luxurious, etc., as there were many cars like it during the reign of this type of vehicle from approximately the mid-1970s through the mid-’80s that may have done one or more things better than this Chevy. What I’m getting at, rather, is that when I think of the prototypical PLC – affordable for the masses, nicely styled, choices of available features, wide-ranging appeal, I think of the Monte Carlo as the singular, defining model.
For the first fifteen years of its life, it was the kind of car that appealed to a wide swath of the American, car-buying public, from young adults who wanted a comfortable and attractive cruiser, to more mature age groups who wanted a distinctive two-door, but had outgrown the smaller sporty coupes. Even the souped-up Super Sport models had a sort of all-star, suburban varsity athlete kind of middle-of-the-road-ness about them that made them seem like a “nice” sort of aggressive. The base Monte Carlos of the 1980s, though, were decidedly and unabashedly broughams. These were luxurious, vaguely sporty cars that you wouldn’t be ashamed to drive to church or the country club, with unoffensive, universal appeal.
Our featured blunt-front, base model Monte Carlo gave me Darth Vader vibes when I saw it in my neighborhood about four years ago. It’s not that I find it unattractive as it is, as I think it looks good with its custom grille and five-spoke wheels, dark window tint, and devoid of all external chrome badges. I have also seen Montes of this generation with tuxedo black paint like the example in the above brochure photo that looked ready for a night out at the theater. It’s just that this example’s specific combination of modest external modifications seemed to add up to an effect that was much more impactful than the sum of its parts. Stated another way, this car looked much more intimidating in the metal than it probably does in these pictures.
Under the hood and as determined by a license plate search, is a 5.0L V8 with what was 150 horsepower from the factory. A 3.8L V6 with 110 hp was the standard Monte Carlo engine for ’84. Base curb weight was around 3,300 pounds for the V8-equipped models, with the V6 models weighing about 100 pounds less and the SS models being about 100 pounds heavier. Sales for ’84 were solid at about 137,000 units. The revolutionary, new aero-styled Thunderbird sold 170,600 units in its second year on the market. The sales leader of this segment, the rear-drive Oldsmobile Cutlass two-door, was still the most popular personal luxury coupe that year, with 241,500 sold, not counting the 3,500 Hurst/Olds specialty models. Chrysler’s once-popular Cordoba, never a sales threat in the ’80s, had bowed out the year before.
Looking again at these pictures four years after I taken them, it seems like the owner’s mods had butched up this Monte Carlo’s appearance in a similar fashion to how the even-flossier Buick Regal was transformed visually into the fire-breathing Grand National. At the time, though, my impression was that an otherwise innocent-looking Monte Carlo had been altered into something that appeared much more threatening, as if to dare you to mess with it. These were some of those rare moments when I felt like taking a few pictures of a car as quickly and discretely as possible before scooting along on my way.
In the case of my own visual transformation in early adulthood, it’s clear from looking at pictures of me from that era that I was sending out a similar message for others to proceed with caution. Thankfully, nothing I ended up doing to myself, physically or otherwise, was irreversible as I continued along my journey to today, as appeared to be the case with this Monte Carlo, which looked like it could have been returned to a stock appearance without too much effort from this point. More importantly, though, it appeared that the owner of this classic Chevy seemed to love it just the way he had it. In cars and in life, this is all that ultimately matters, and comfort in your own skin, whatever that skin looks like, goes a long way.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
Sunday, August 6, 2017.
I actually kind of like these squared off Monte Carlos, but finding one that isn’t a white SS is almost impossible anymore, not that there are a lot of the SS models out there. I somehow like that the Olds, Pontiac, and even the Buick versions ” seemed ” to outsell this generation of the Monte Carlo (I must check to see if my perception is accurate).
As long as the Monte in question has the full gauge package I don’t even care if it has a bench front seat (another instance where it ” seems ” nearly 90% were so equipped) or a V6 instead of the near mandatory V8.
Just the gauge package and any color with the exception of white.
Howard, you make a great point about the popularity of the white SS models. You’re right! I have been sitting on pictures of one example for maybe four years and still haven’t done anything with them.
Just last Sunday, I did see a black SS cross an intersection maybe a block or two away from where I live.
Nice writing as always, Joe. You always manage to get beneath the surface for a deep take.
The car and the story here remind me of a former classmate. When I moved into town in 3rd grade, he was considered a loser, with even the girls (who at that time wanted little to do with the boys), telling me to stay away from him. The classmate was maybe a little quirky, but was basically a normal kid who had gotten a bad rap. He got dumped on by the other kids, and even the 4th grade teacher, who used him as a whipping post, so to speak. He remained a loser and an outcast through middle school.
Then one day, in high school, he completely rebranded himself as a “G” (gangsta). Overnight, it seemed, his haircut changed, his clothes changed, he went from driving a modern sports car to an old, ragged 70s Cutlass – everything changed. He formed a posse with three or four other known misfits, and he cut a presence of toughness. It was not that he’d found acceptance in a gang; I still think it was more of a pose than anything. Who he is today is impossible to say. But his identity changed overnight, and this once clean-cut, effeminate kid morphed into something much darker and tougher.
Scott, thank you. The need to belong is a strong human instinct.
These cars were always great throwbacks. Front engine, rear wheel drive, with a body-on-frame construction. They get real respect in certain vintage car circles, and prices on used ones are going up, up, up.
The one negative, to my eyes, is the huge body overhangs, both front and rear. Once seen, cannot be unseen, at least by me.
I like that these are starting to appreciate. Your comment also has me reexamining the overhangs with a new perspective. I actually think these are well proportioned, and the overhangs don’t bother me that much. I’m trying to think of any other cars in this class that are worse offenders.
I’d say the J-Body Dodge Mirada / Chrysler Cordoba have similar overhangs, but their near-flawless styling makes it forgivable.
Though the overhangs seem a bit excessive to me, especially at the front, I am not sure how one would “fix” them, a la the Mustang II, without losing the integrity of the design. The squared off roof, flatter sides, and angular rear haunches really clean up the excesses of the prior version. The low-rider and stock car people love these things, along with their B-O-P corporate bretheren, and both groups like to lower the car, thus reproportioning the thing to good effect.
I like it.
Nothing wrong with overhangs on a Monte Carlo.
That’s just how it rolls.
I never envisioned a compelling essay on personal growth centered on a late-Malaise Chevy, but here it is – thanks for sharing your journey, and making it relatable too.
Your conclusion about the nature and outcome of the mods on this car reveal a universal truth – the bane of the world are 20yo boys – speaking as a recovered 20yo boy and a father of daughters.
Thank you so much.
Thanks for another insightful essay. I could relate well to a number of your experiences and issues, as I struggled with acceptance, both at home but more importantly among peers fro the time we moved to the US until 11th grade, when I ditched the uptight Catholic boys prep high school and switched to a big public one, where I finally found a small band of like-minded outsiders. It was a huge relief, and a major turning point. Not quite the same as coming out, but similar nonetheless, to find others that espoused the same values and the resulting acceptance.
Thanks so much, Paul. I think that breaking away is a universal theme for a certain age, so I was hoping in writing this that there was something here that many could relate to on some level, even if not specifically with my story.
I’d say that the relief of letting go of trying to live my life for someone else, in general, was the start of true adulthood for me.
An Aspie youtuber said he didn’t have any friends in HS or college–until he got dreadlocks.
I believe I’d rather be friendless with clean hair.
That’s my default status whether I like it or not.
Chevrolet’s image, had they had started dating Sharon Stone after getting bored with Doris Day.
Something of analogy of high school and beyond with this refresh. The perky face, eager mien and chubby cheeks and flanks give way to a more sleek, chiseled appearance, only now actually able to pull off a bit of understated sinister if desired.
As always, you manage to capture this car’s essence in your inimitable way.
You make me think that the atmosphere of the first home and how comfortable we are in it can make an incredible difference as we reach that age where we have to become ourselves. I salute you for having the sense to come to terms with some of those family-of-origin issues at a much earlier age than I came to terms with some of mine.
I’m definitely a work-in-progress, JP! Thank you.
I see this car and think Julian from the Trailer Park Boys. Rum and Coke, anyone?
Great essay that captures the essence of these cars.
These Monte Carlos only show up at car shows around here these days, and they are all the SS version. Monte Carlos modified in this manner are not seen around here. In my opinion, this is the second most attractive generation of the rear-wheel-drive Monte Carlos, after the 1970-72 generation.
Thanks, Geeber. I’ll second that these are the second-best looking Montes, though I like them all.
I have always been here.
I have always looked out from behind these eyes.
Is this the way that it’s always been?
Could it ever have been different?
I had to look this up – The Floyd! Now I have some listening to do. Thanks – ♪♫
If someone else looked out through your eyes, would they see the same as you?
A question to keep you awake at night. 🙂
My fave Monte Carlo. Very elegant.
I had a 1978 MC as a loaner from the leasing company that supplied my parent’s shop with wheels. It was possibly the most basic Monte ever built, aside from it being a California car so no manual 3-speed. Same bones as the Iraqi Taxi Malibus, painted beige with nasty staticky hangnail-snaggy polyester upholstery, floaty suspension, wheezy farty V6 and I was so happy to get my Toyota pickup back from service.
Also: the closet sucks.
Your description of your MC loaner reminded me of this Pontiac Grand Prix-equivalent: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1978-pontiac-grand-prix-gms-deadly-sin-14/ . That was good for a chuckle!
Another well written piece .
The L.A.P.D. bought a bunch of 1982 SS Montes and issued them to the drug cops .
One in particular was bent and had a whole bunch of critical files in the trunk when he drove to a drug house not in his area, while he was inside getting high the car was stolen his firearm in the trunk too….
We found the bare frame and shell a few days later .
Being unwelcome isn’t just gay thing, plenty of unwanted children out there, I left home @ 8 Y.O. and have never regretted it .
Sounds like Mr. Dennis is doing just fine .
Keep up the good writing .
-Nate
Nate, thank you so so much. The way I look at it, stuff happens for a reason, and not taking something positive or some learning from an experience is a wasted opportunity.
I grew up in a hellish home, and left at 17.
But 8? Its obviously none of my business, but there’s gotta be a lot of story to go with that.
Anyway, props on making it out with (hopefully) most of your true self intact.
Just so Mr. Dennis .
Many don’t take the time to think what might they learn from this ? .
I try to teach this lesson to our Foster boys, I don’t want them to be afraid of life .
I made it out alive, many I knew didn’t .
I never stay where I’m not wanted and I certainly wasn’t wanted where I was born .
The mean streets of Boston, etc., etc.
Stories yes but more importantly I learned .
-Nate