The Lincoln Log

Thar she blows! The great green whale in all its splendor.  © 2014 Marve Harwell

It’s been said (nearly everything has) that the car you drive says a lot about who you are.  If that’s the case then I must grudgingly admit that I’m old, ugly, hopelessly out of style, but rugged and reliable.

These are qualities you find optimistic synonyms for when you’re creating that online dating profile. “Experienced single man with unique looks and classic sense of style seeks a woman who’s no stranger to disappointment.”

Like a new member of a twelve-step program let me just say it; I’m Marve and I drive a 1995 Lincoln Town Car.

Most people, especially the style conscious under-seventy crowd, might say “I wouldn’t drive that old land barge if you gave it to me!”  Well, it was given to me and I do drive it. 

The car belonged to my wife’s parents who bought it as a low mileage lease return somewhere around 1996 or 97. The car spent its entire life garage kept in a mild southern climate so it was completely rust free when I got it in April of 2014, even with 150,000 miles on the clock. The last few years, aside from an occasional run to the market, the old Lincoln was sitting in my in-law’s garage. They had two other vehicles to use and the tired old yank tank was left to calcify.

Ginger and I had made a habit out of doing maintenance and repairs to the Town Car whenever we came to visit her parents. This last occasion it had a pinhole leak in the coolant tube on the intake manifold. A little JB Weld, a half-inch piece of radiator return hose later and the old car was a cool and dry as a freshly powdered baby’s bottom.  While still in the afterglow of an easy repair Ginger’s father asked if we just would like to keep the Lincoln.

I was truly overwhelmed by the generosity but I must admit that the thought of owning 18+ feet of frost green luxo-barge left me a little perplexed.  I didn’t want to seem ungrateful but I couldn’t imagine what I would do with it. I own three Miatas, a Capri XR2, and a Volvo S60 R; all lined up end-to-end not as large as the Lincoln and all manual transmissions.  The Town Car seemed as useless in my fleet as a condom machine in a convent.

I told my father-in-law that I was extremely grateful, but to be honest, I might just sell it and buy an MG Midget. He said it was a gift and I could do what I wanted with it but he assured me that once I started driving it I wouldn’t want to sell it. I doubted that but I had a 750 mile drive home to find out.

The old girl made the trip without incident and returned 25 miles to the gallon to boot. I also admit I enjoyed driving it. Ensconced in its semi-bench, power adjustable seat I watched the landscape pour through the windshield like sitting on my living room sofa watching the world’s most boring TV program.

Although I enjoyed the trip I thought that it was a novelty that would quickly wear off. After all, in the dozens of cars I have owned over the years only two had automatic transmissions and the same two were the only other body-on-frame whips beside the Lincoln.

One of these automatic transgressions was my beloved Chevy Astro van (blogged about on this site) and the other a 1974 Oldsmobile Cutlass with faded red paint and black vinyl top. The Gutless I acquired for a couple hundred dollars during a period of desperate need.   In the 1980’s a car like that Oldsmobile was the best celibacy insurance you could buy. I had that car less than a year and I replaced it with the sexy European; a 1974 Capri with 4 speed, 2.8 V6, a bigger Weber carb, headers, and dual exhaust, but that’s another story.

When I got the car home my wife Ginger and I had a discussion about putting the old Lincoln in a home, any home but ours. She reminded me how many times her father said we wouldn’t want to sell it, which she took to mean he really didn’t want us to sell it. Besides, she admitted, she had a sentimental attachment to it. I relented and said that we’d keep it for a while until I could replace it with another van.

Seven months and another 25,000 miles, the Clown Car sits outside my window.

I have packed the car full of people, used it as a video production truck hauling lights, cameras, a jib arm, and audio gear, and have taken several road trips with it.

A boat on a boat. Ferrying the Town Car to an Island in the Great Lakes accompanied by a Lincoln Navigator.  The two Lincolns had to remain on opposite sides of the island lest it capsize. © 2014 Marve Harwell

I have replaced the heater core, the climate control sensor ($7 junk yard part), an oil filter bracket gasket, fixed the cruise control ($21 brake sensor), added police interceptor coil springs in place of the air suspension, and installed coil assisted performance front shocks. The big boat actually takes the corners flat with no bobbing or wallowing, the tires giving out in the corners way before the suspension while still maintaining a good ride. I plan on adding police interceptor 16-inch steel wheels and performance tires in the spring, keeping the 15-inch alloys for winter (backwards to some, but I love the purposeful look of steelies). Other than those maintenance items, expected in a 20-year-old car, the Lincoln runs without a hitch. The much-maligned 4.6 liter modular V8, although underpowered and under stressed, is easy to work on and may see some mild modifications in the future. No wonder this engine has served taxis, police cars, and car services so well, some seeing over 500,000 miles.

Safety first. Ginger braving 4000 pounds of American iron replacing an oil filter bracket gasket.  © 2014 Marve Harwell

  

The novelty of driving the Lincoln has not yet worn off; maybe our grandparents weren’t so silly after all. I fully admit I thought people drove these cars as fun-free mobile depravation chambers designed to mentally prepare a person for that final ride into the ground in an equally plush oak box. I, however, admit I was wrong; I actually enjoy plopping into the power-adjustable driver’s seat and wafting along on life’s little errands. A side benefit to the Lincoln is that it is so unlike my MX-5’s that when I do go out for some shenanigans in the Miatas they feel all the more special, light, and fun.

Let me take this opportunity to point out the most often commented upon aspect of the Town Car; its cavernous trunk. It staggers people to see the enormity of the cargo hold on this vessel. I won’t make the obvious comment on its capacity to transport dead mobsters, but I will say that some New York City dwellings for the living are not so commodious. I have actually had friends climb into the trunk to marvel at its capacity from within its confines.

I mentioned above how I can haul all the gear from my video production business in the trunk and not have any of it intrude on the leather clad passenger compartment. The other advantage is that no one expects a geriatric taxi to have tens of thousands of dollars of electronic equipment in the hold. Most people expect to find no more than a checkered hat, a box of tissues, and maybe an emergency defibrillator back there.

One final thought about the Lincoln; it has reacquainted me with rear-wheel-drive winter driving. The car has a limited slip rear differential and with snow tires and some weight in the back it takes snowy roads beautifully. No wonder you see so few police Crown Victorias stuck in the frozen fluff.

I have grown to love the Town Car like yank tank owners before me. It is the polar opposite of everything I have ever valued in a car but sometimes a little opposite lock and some counter-steering are good things. I may not be a permanent resident in the land of Lincoln, but I think it will be an extended stay.