In the final entry of my cars growing up, we end with my best (read: fun) driver, a 1976 Pontiac Grand Prix. After the disaster of the AMC Pacer, it was nice to get ahold of a big barge again. Where the Pacer was a nice idea without the execution, the Grand Prix was a pedigree of excellence that was evident in every aspect. Pontiac had ridden the style and performance of the Grand Prix/Bonneville/Catalina stable since a major remake in 1965. The style had remained virtually the same since that time with minor adjustments along the way. Plush, luxury-oriented, my new gorgeous car even had a T-Top. Plush interior, bucket seats, push-button trunk, electric windows, this was a sporty, large luxury car. And was a car that was a pure joy to just hop in on a day off and cruise. Not since my first VW and the Fury after that have I simply driven a car with enjoyment instead of as a means to get from here to there. ...
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