It’s a 1983 Oldsmobile Oil Leaker. Wait, I’ve just been informed that it has a name. Firenza? Huh. Well this is my 1983 Firenza I guess.
I recently traded my ‘77 Civic for this little slice of 1980's America. The guy promised me that when he was bored of the Honda he’d sell it back to me, so I didn’t have to feel TOO guilty for trading my Japanese classic for a big blue couch that smells like cigarettes.
I’ve put 110 miles on the car since I got it last week, and here’s what I have taken away from the experience so far.
1. Is the steering wheel really connected to anything? I still haven’t been able to figure this out. Turning the wheel results in some vague change in direction with a lot of added body roll.
2. Every single gasket under gods good sun that keeps Oil in this motor has gone south for the winter. Or maybe forever. Not sure. Kinda smells bad, and the inside of my windshield is caked in oil residue so I can’t see through it if it’s cold out.
4. TBI is a goofy thing
5. I really freaking like it. The other day I threw a can of spray paint at it. I walk all over it, literally. And it just doesn’t matter. I love having a car that I know I’m going to drive into the ground. It’s a 4 speed, wagon, steelies, and It takes a beating and just doesn’t care. She’s a steed.
Next up, naming it!
More to come. Thanks oppo