It's 1992. Your mom just took you through the Dairy Queen drive in after supper. It was 30C today, and it's going to be 35C tomorrow. You're going to go swimming at the local outdoor pool with your mom, little brother, auntie and favourite cousin, tomorrow though. Mom will probably put on that Blue Rodeo tape on the way back. It's not your favorite, but you find yourself waiting for the song hooks.
Life is simple and life is good.
You're in the middle of death valley in a heat wave.
It's hotter than Venus outside.
Your mom turns the AC on low.
The 17.4L V8 Gas Guzzler super-extra-big-block engine bogs an imperceptible amount
The weapons grade CFCs—now banned by the Geneva convention—form icicles on your eyebrows in seconds.
The average new car weighs more than the famously heavy Oldsmobile 98.
I'd like to take a moment to dispel some of the claims being made in this comment thread.
Modern cars are significantly more reliable than older cars by virtually every measurable metric. They are unquestionably more difficult to work on, but they also break down far less often.
The safety features on modern vehicles are light-years ahead of anything available in the '80s or '90s. Emissions are also dramatically lower than they were back then.
A lot of people in the comments have already pointed this out.
That said, older cars were undeniably easier to work on in many respects.
Pretty sure this car had more ashtrays than it did safety features too
It's 1992. Your mom just took you through the Dairy Queen drive in after supper. It was 30C today, and it's going to be 35C tomorrow, but you're an American child in 1992 and have no idea what that means in Freedom Units.
You could drunk drive into a brick wall at forty-five miles an hour and the only damage would be yourself smeared all over the inside of it.
Hasn't the weight of cars been increasing? Pick a model and track the curb weight over generations. It seems to be going up.
It's 1992. Your mom takes you to Dairy Queen in her oldsmobile. She lights up a cigarette. She asks if you want one. You say no. She says stop acting like such a pussy. You take the cigarette. She lights it for you.
1984 LTD Crown Victoria, White with red velour interior. I closed that door (which looks a lot like this door) on my hand and it locked. Mom had already gone inside and there i was screaming bloody murder in the front yard. She eventually came out and unlocked the door and got me out. Somehow it didn't break my hand, probly because children are made of rubber or something. Theres no point to this other than sharing my unlocked PTSD that this image unlocked.
If you're not even 50 yet and already falling into nostalgia traps seek help.
Hey man I had a 1967 Plymouth Newport that had to have 454 engine just haul the car around. Fucker was tank on wheels.
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