I've just realized; in all my posts, I have never once featured a Dodge Charger, mainly for one reason; they're simply not common out my way. Usually, when a car enthusiast hears the namesake, he or she either thinks of a)The Dukes of Hazzard or b) Bullitt. Not so, with this example.
A far cry from the rip-snorting muscle car of 1967 to 1970, these 1971+ models were geared more toward luxury than any real muscle pretensions that the name would otherwise suggest. Sure, it had a wide slew of engine options, and even the bright colors of the previous generation did find home on this new car, but to many, the 1971-1974 were not quite what an one would call "sweet." What they lacked in appearance, they apparently made up for under the hood, but to most non-car fans, that doesn't matter. This generation simply isn't sought after; and with good reason. If you remembered a square, two box hardtop wearing a confederate flag on TV, would you flock to a vinyl top-laden, long-nosed short-decked beast that had the charisma of a dead rat? I don't think so. While I can't quite say I totally hate this generation, this particular one isn't doing my eyes any favors.
Caked in a decidedly matte finish, and rolling on turbine wheels, this car seems to be stuck in 1980, and it almost works-- wait. No it doesn't. It just seems like the current owner found it in a field, bought it, and got it running. Good for him. I'd rather see it either done up in all 1970s kitchiness with window louvers, proper American Racing Vector wheels and odd colored interior, or turned into a Super Bee clone. As it is, though, this car leaves me a be stale, excitement-wise. Definitely not quite what I expect from something carrying the Charger moniker. Well, there's always the new Charger...wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment