If families that had given up any aspirations on moving up had Kaboom cereal on their breakfast table, certainly you could bet that a Dodge Aries or Plymouth Reliant was parked in the driveway. This was the car that you bought because the only purpose of the family sedan was to get you and the kids from point A to point B. Not only did you no longer care how fast it took you there, you no longer even pretended to care how you looked getting there. Oh, you could indulge in a little pretentiousness with options of pimp velour seats and plastic wood veneer trim, but the kids still sunk low in the backseat when classmates riding in the back of their dad’s BMW or Honda Accord pulled up beside at the light while you tried to quickly roll up the windows because mom had the radio turned up at the same time Air Supply or Christopher Cross came on the radio.
via Ace of Spades HQ.
I had an ’84 Reliant while I was living in Colorado. It. Was. Awful.
It was relatively reliable, but so terribly gutless. I drove home to Washington state in it once. And I was trying to get up the continental divide. I had to drop to third gear, and stand on the gas just to eek out 35 miles per hour.