Up until recently, one of the hallmarks of Volkswagen was that they made affordable cars. The idea that you could walk into a dealership in the mid-1960s, for example, and purchase a durable, basic car, built to high standards for roughly $1600 (US) is astounding, particularly when you will spend 10-15 times that amount today for the equivalent model. Yes, I know that $1600 was a large chunk of change in the mid-1960s, and cars are much more complex today, having to abide by emissions and safety standards never dreamed of 30 years ago. And we’re further told that the modern-day car-buying public is no longer interested in austere models with wind-up windows and basic amenities. But it still doesn’t feel right.
I’m sure some economist will write to me, and through a detailed analysis of income and inflation trends over the past 40 years, demonstrate that the purchase price of a modern base-model VW is equivalent in terms of “real dollars” to the $1600 Beetle from the mid-1960s. Such rational explanations, however, bore me, and I find myself completely alienated from the practice of spending large amounts of money buying new “entry-level” cars. Whether you generously describe it as frugalness or “value consciousness”, or cynically describe it as simply being cheap, the result of this belief is that if you look back at my VW purchases over my life, there has been one consistent theme: the $900 car.
My first $900 VW was our very first Beetle, a 1972 Super Beetle, spray-painted flat black. Purchased in the mid-1980s, 20-years before “rattle-can” flat black cars were considered cool again, this car was ugly! In fact, it was its’ ugliness that appealed to me. My then girlfriend (and now wife), Cathy, really wanted the car, and for some reason it appealed to me as well. Attending high school at the time, all of the guys my age who thought they were cool were driving modern muscle cars of the day, including 5 litre Mustangs and IROC Z28s. These guys seemed to be so wrapped-up in letting the world know how cool they were that I felt it was infinitely cooler driving a car that showed you didn’t care how cool you weren’t.
This car was fairly used-up by the time we purchased it, having suffered through 15 Canadian winters, yet it trundled through 5 more winters as our daily driver until we sold it following the purchase of our next “$900 car.” Actually, we splurged on the purchase of our yellow 1971 Beetle convertible, spending a whopping $1400! That’s over a 50% increase, but hey, the roof went down, so factoring in the higher priced convertible market, it was probably equivalent to a $900 sedan. Serving as a daily driver for 8 years, the convertible provided reliable transportation with more flare and fun than any other $900 (or $9000) car could hope of providing.
There was only one problem, however; the convertible was too nice to subject to harsh Canadian winters, and having sold the 1972 Super Beetle, we needed a winter car. The solution? A $900 1973 basic Beetle. This car was even uglier than our flat black 1972 Super Beetle. With burnt orange paint and a two-toned red and grey interior, it had a face that only a mother (or father, in this case) could love. This car provided reliable service for 5 winters, before selling it due to the fact that it was simply too nice to subject it to any more corrosive Canadian winters. Its’ replacement? My first (and only) non-VW, a red 1987 Honda Civic, purchased for $900.
While I skipped my $900 car trend in 1997 when purchasing my Lotus White 1967 Beetle, paying approximately twice my usual amount, I once again returned to true form in 2000, paying $1400 for a 1983 Rabbit convertible (refer to my aforementioned theory of $1400 convertibles being equivalent to $900 sedans). This factory original “pimp wagon” car peaked the ugly scale, with metallic burgundy-brown paint, burgundy seats and carpet, tan top (accented with a tan pinstripe) and skinny 13” wheels with white walls, chrome hubcaps and trim rings. It takes a real man confident in his own sexuality and place in the world to drive one of these cars around town, with the roof down no-less, placing you on full display for passers-by to observe (and mock). This was nevertheless a great car, providing reliable, year-round daily driver service for 4 years until selling it for – you guessed it – $900.
There is something intensely satisfying about driving $900 cars in a world commonly surrounded by $25,000 entry-level cars. Driving on the highway seemingly powered by your own sense of smugness and self-satisfaction that you haven’t fallen victim to the high cost, high consumption, rapidly depreciating world of newer automobiles, cheap cars provide you with a sense of freedom that you’ve almost beat the system; “The Man” ain’t got nothin’ on you! You’ve never had to make monthly payments, and have seen through the trappings of the “keep up with the Jones’” world.
That, or you’re simply intensely cheap and dream-up elaborate theories to make your unwillingness to part with a dollar seem more meaningful than it actually is.
Courtesy of Ultra VW magazine (CHPublications Ltd)
