Lessons From My 1976 Ford Pinto Station Wagon: Be Memorable

I’m driving down the freeway at 2 or 3 in the morning in April of 1990. I’m completely sober, but I’m coming home from a night out. There are maybe 3 cars on the road. There is a long stretch of freeway with a nice, steady decline between Crown Valley Parkway and Junipero Serra. I’m a little bored so I decide to see how fast I can get the old wagon to go.

I floor it. At 65, she starts shaking a bit. Not a lot, just a slight vibration. I grip the steering wheel and press harder on the gas…it’s beyond floored. 70. Now she’s legitimately shaking and I can feel my head vibrating with my hands on the wheel. 75. I’m grinning ear to ear and my whole body is shaking with the car, but the engine is purring and I’m committed. 80! 80 miles per hour! Now she starts making noises. I can hear the engine strain and knock as it starts missing its timing belt. My whole body is shaking, like a disco epileptic in full seizure mode, the car is making cracking noises and I think I might break her in two.

BAM! A light explodes through the passenger window and I jump and hit my head on the roof. The cop see me smiling through my convulsions, and he gets on the intercom and is laughing. He’s actually laughing. “Son, I don’t think that car is going to take much more. How ‘bout you slow it down before it falls apart?” I nod and he slows with me and I can see him smiling. He gives me a thumbs up and a wave and speeds down the freeway ahead of me, still laughing and shaking his head.

I think it would be considered a ‘classic’ now, but in 1990, it was anything but. Let’s see if I can do this justice…it was stock white and had two rusty old surfboard racks on the top. The back window had three stickers: Big Pecker’s Surf Wax (a classic), a Led Zeppelin sticker in the KLOS rainbow style, and a sticker of Alice talking to the smoking caterpillar sitting on a mushroom. There were no dings, scratches or blemishes. Externally, it was in perfect condition. It was a 1976 Ford Pinto Station Wagon, and when you are a junior in high school and wanted to look at least a little cool…well, this wasn’t the way you did it.

How do you make a 1976 Ford Pinto Station Wagon look cool? I guess the first rule is you can’t, but I tried. The Pinto’s back seat folded down so that if I laid diagonally, I could sleep somewhat comfortably. So, I hung blue Guatemalan fabric curtains in the back windows and kept a rolled up sleeping bag in the back. I would park at the beach, parks and campsites and within a few minutes, be resting nicely, not to mention the convenience of date nights.

The tire well was located in the back under the carpet and a board. I took the tire out and had a nice storage spot to keep crap; sunscreen, changes of clothes, towels, and a bunch of other stuff. You’d think it was the ideal hiding spot for contraband, but it wasn’t. It was the first spot that got checked when I got pulled over, and a Ford Pinto Station Wagon with Guatemalan curtains and a kid wearing a drug rug got pulled over and searched a few times.

I had at least one cool feature. The speakers in the back didn’t need to be screwed in. The magnets in the speakers would keep them in place against the metal frame of the car. So, a little sandpaper to smooth the edges and a couple of screw heads glued into the speaker to make it look attached, and viola, I had the best hiding spot ever. Remove the speaker and I could fit 4 cans or 1 bottle or many bags of whatever I wanted in the wall of the car on each side. The Pinto was searched at least 4 times and the hiding spot remained untouched each time. Back then, dogs weren’t really used very much.

The Pinto was iconic. In my South Orange County high school of BMWs and Mercedes, it stood out. It was the proverbial P.O.S.. I bought it for $700 and it looked like it was worth every penny. When people would see me in it, I would get “Hey man, that’s your car? I’ve seen you around.” Because, I drove it everywhere and it definitely made an impression.

Before cell phones, we would agree to meet at some location that Friday night; parking lots, fast food restaurants, and parks. Everyone would meet and someone would inevitably hear of someone’s parents being out of town, which basically meant that whether they wanted it or not, there was going to be a party either outside or in front of their house. We would all follow the leader and create a giant line of cars, each with four or five kids per car. The Pinto was easily recognized in the ‘party train’ and cars would use it as a reference to be sure they were going to the right place.

One night, the party train had to get on the freeway, and the poor little Pinto couldn’t keep up with the younger Jettas and Landcruisers, so she fell behind. The problem was that all the other cars were following the her and she lost her way. Instead of trying to find the party, the little Pinto remembered that a new track of homes was being built near where they were and the park was already done. So she led the remaining train to the new park and the rest of the train ended up throwing one of the biggest keggers of the year. The little Pinto was recognized by everyone and she made more than a good impression that night.

There it was, the Pinto. A pile by any other means at the time, made impression after impression. Not good or bad, just memorable. I think, more than anything, this is what the Pinto wanted me to learn. You don’t have to overshoot or undershoot…just shoot. Don’t worry about fitting in with the Mercedes, you can’t. Instead, make the Mercedes remember you and want to follow you.

I miss her. A Buick missed a turned and slammed on the brakes two cars ahead of her. The Jeep in front had anti-lock brakes, so could stop in time, but the Pinto did not. Her brakes locked up and she slid right under the raised Jeep, totaling her front-end. The engine was still running as her coolant and brake fluids pooled under her. After a few minutes of bleeding out on the road, the engine started to sputter and finally stopped and couldn’t be restarted. I pushed her lifeless body into a parking lot, and removed her speakers to line up 1 half-empty bottle of Bacardi, three Coors Lights and one bag of mystery weed I bought from a worker at the Del Taco drive through on Marguerite Parkway. I won’t deny that I cried a little.

For me, the lesson my Pinto taught me was to be memorable. Don’t stress on whether to be the best or the worst, just be present and stand out. Don’t be a wallflower, silently screaming for attention and throwing a tantrum when ignored by the world. Within the white noise of social media and mediocrity, Pintos make everlasting impressions.