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Wanted: 1967 Pontiac GTO for a special Father's Day

Jim Sharp of Elkhorn, Wisconsin needs a red 1967 Pontiac GTO to make his dad's Father's Day, possibly his last one, something extra special.
Back in the '60s, Jim's dad, Ken, drove a cherry red 1967 GTO to California for a job. He met a girl, got married and decided his wife's 1965 Ford Mustang was more fuel efficient than the Goat and the GTO was sold. As the story almost always goes, Ken has had seller's regret ever since.
Jim always meant to find a 1967 GTO and, with his dad's help, restore it. But life got in the way, time slipped by and Ken was recently diagnosed with esophageal cancer and given about three months to live.

A case for Pontiac's return

Sadly, many brands have disappeared off of the automotive landscape over the decades. Many people have imagined over the years of restarting defunct automotive brands. A few of those dreamers even made prototypes to shop around and to established connections with investors. But, alas poor Yorick, however valiant an effort, many brands are shuttered for good, rarely to be heard of again except in historical tales or maybe seen in car shows. So, what do you do when you win the lottery? Not just any lottery... In fact, it is a lottery that takes care of you and your loved ones for life? You and your family don't have to work, ever. You can give to charity, pay other people to do those projects that you've been putting off, and so on and so on. But, you're still a Car Nut right? There begins the conundrum. Do you buy and fix cars, new premium cars, old muscle cars, or classics, or maybe, just maybe, do you buy the rights to an old departed automotive brand and bring it back to life. Hmm. Which brand? The problem with the old Pontiac was that it was an additional badge engineered vehicle in the portfolio of GM. The meant the brand was diluted by competition from its own parent company, in addition to the competition outside the camp. So, if it were to come back, it would have to be different. Yet, it would still need to keep true to its roots at the same time in order to wake up its armies of existing fans. Even those that aren't fans of Pontiac cannot deny that Pontiac has a long heritage of legendary vehicles. So do Packard, and Studebaker, and others. So, why would a lottery winner choose Pontiac as the marque to bring back? That's easy! Pontiac's long heritage is closely tied to performance vehicles that made many of a teenager drool. Even more important though is that Pontiac is still fresh on people's minds. The brand itself is only recently departed. So, Boomers, Generation X, and Millenials all would all be able to identify with it as opposed to brand names that disappeared multiple decades ago and that now have a more limited appeal. The return of Pontiac couldn't just be another launch of a badge engineered vehicle. It would have to be performance oriented, yes. But, it would have to be unique in some way, a niche brand. What niche though? Look at the automotive landscape now and you see that Tesla is the one out there grabbing at the wide open electric niche with success.

This junkyard '91 Grand Am is as hooptie as it gets

I spend a lot of time in junkyards. A lot of time. With all this experience, I have learned to recognize a perfect hooptie when I see one, a car whose final owner got every last bit of use out of it when its value was hovering right about at scrap value. This 1991 Pontiac Grand Am that I spotted in a San Francisco Bay Area self-service wrecking yard a few days ago, from the final model year for the third-generation Grand Am, checks all the hooptie boxes just right. First of all, it's a low-option coupe with the wretched and unloved GM Iron Duke engine, a rattly, gnashy, thrashy 2.5-liter four-cylinder kludged together using off-the-shelf parts from the Pontiac 301-cubic-inch V8 during the darkest years of the Malaise Era and used in cars whose buyers just didn't care. Most of the paint has been burned off by 25 years of harsh California sun, but the car spent sufficient time in a damp, shady spot for lichens to build up here and there. There are skeletons-with-sombreros stencils sprayed here and there, plus a big moonshine-guzzling skeleton mural painted on the hood. Goodbye, property values! Still, someone felt some affection for this car, giving it the name "Good Ol' Snakey" and painting that name on the decklid. We can assume that the Iron Duke was a bit loose by this time, probably leaving a serpentine trail of blue smoke behind the car at all times. So, the combination of cheapness, ugliness, menace, and who-gives-a-damn functionality make this Grand Am an excellent example of a pure hooptie. Within a couple of months, it will be crushed, shredded, shipped out of the Port of Oakland, and reborn in China as refrigerators and Geely Emgrands. Somewhere in Northern California, though, a few of Ol' Smokey's friends will remember this car fondly.