It’s always been hard for me to admit to ever wanting a GM product. And I grew up in Detroit. There were of course the early flirts with a Camaro or a Trans Am with a big bird on the hood when I was turning 16. None of those really turned my innards despite a love for Smoky and the Bandit. So ultimately, my dad and I ended up with a 1974 BMW 2002, maroon over tan with a sunroof. As the guy told us when we bought it, you either find them with a good body or a good engine for this price. Since we were in Michigan, rust was the killer so we picked the good body. Which meant that for different stretches of its illustrious career, I would push start the car.
My dad had a Corvette when we grew up. A 1974, no relation to the BMW, red with white convertible top. I’d sit in the back when my sister and him would pick me up from soccer practice. Seat belts? Nope, not even a seat just a luggage shelf. Corvettes have always been ruined for me, not because we sold the Vette before I could drive it but because of who I always saw driving them. In Michigan, we called it the Keego factor. Gold chain wearing, disheveled hair and a huge “thinks you are” quotiant. Same holds true for many parts of the country I’ve come to find out. Are they great cars, you bet. I still talk about buying a C4 every month or so but my wife won’t have it. She apparently grew up being above dating a Keegonite.
Which brings me to my GM pick. A Pontiac Solstice GXP designed by Franz VonHolzhausen on the exterior pen, and Vicki Vlachakis as the interior decorator respectively. The 2009 Pontiac Solstice GXP is motivated by a turbocharged 2.0-liter four that puts out 260 horsepower and 260 pound-feet of torque. It makes for a quick ride to 60 mph in just 5.5 seconds and running the quarter-mile in only 13.8 seconds. But alas it’s a Pontiac, which brings me back to the only reason to buy it. “You’re sooo good lookin’.” I can’t seem to get away from low slung, curvacious body that reminds me cars can still be designed like the sex that came out of Europe in the 50’s and 60’s. Hey GM, what kinda deal are you making on these things? 50 cents on the dollar since you’re broke? Hook a brother up.