Heading back out to Alameda's Victorian-lined avenues in search of more old iron, I figured it would be best to find something from Detroit after yesterday's Swedish steel...
Let's not even think about the late-70s Fairmont-based Futura. That car was clearly driving to a future of malaise and diminished expectations, on a road paved with shattered dreams and broken whiskey bottles. Not like the real Futura, the one based on the Falcon. Look at it!
Look at those taillights! Like the afterburners on a Mach 10 SuperJet blasting off to the Moon Base!
And the Futura emblem is just gorgeous, combining a proud bird of prey and a commie-killin' jet plane. Come on Ford, drag those old designers out of retirement!
So what if it's fake? This hood scoop is space age! Ford? You got those old designers back on the team yet? Drag 'em out of retirement- it's an emergency!
Big chunky metal switches. Plastic that doesn't apologize for being plastic. Stamped sheet metal and glued-on vinyl. Detroit used to be able to make cheap look good.
All right, we admit the Falcon had perhaps the most godawful terrible suspension made by Detroit in the postwar era, and this particular car probably wheezes along with a 144- or 170-cube six (though wise buyers plunked down the extra bucks for the 260 V8 with four-speed). But, regardless of door-handle-scraping suspension or anemic powerplant, we love this car.
Because there's nothing wrong here that a centrifugally-supercharged 302 and a complete suspension upgrade wouldn't fix. Ooh, four-door Futura sleeper!
Ghetto Fabulous: Oaktown's Falcon Culture [internal]