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I saw this on msn today.
1988 Ford Festiva ($550)
1988 Ford Festiva
I feel like an ogre inside a pregnant roller skate, sitting in this thing. But if your tax return needs to buy a car and two-weeks-worth of gas, this thing is your ticket. The 1988 Festiva had an EPA-rated MPG of 38 in the city, but most Festiva owners today boast something closer to 45 or better. And considering gas prices are above $3.50 a gallon in all but one state, you might consider being an ogre for that.
Now, even brand-new out of the box, the Festiva was neither feature-rich — Car and Driver's review noted that it was "remarkably well outfitted" because as it included "an AM/FM stereo radio with a clock," standard — nor a relative pleasure on the road. And, hate to say it, but the Festiva's suspension hasn't exactly gotten smoother in the four subsequent presidential administrations. It's a little like driving a vibrator — you feel every piece of gravel, every crack. And it's not bone-shaking so much as potentially bone-destroying; the 1988 Festiva received one of the NHTSA's worst-ever ratings for passenger head injuries.
Still, you gotta love when a speedometer maxes out at eighty-five on top of tires approximate size of the new Ford F-150's steering wheel. It's sounds like a party, looks like a land monster, and ends up — not unlike most twenty-year-old pieces of machinery that ought to sell for twice as much — somewhere on the upside of disappointing
1988 Ford Festiva ($550)
1988 Ford Festiva
I feel like an ogre inside a pregnant roller skate, sitting in this thing. But if your tax return needs to buy a car and two-weeks-worth of gas, this thing is your ticket. The 1988 Festiva had an EPA-rated MPG of 38 in the city, but most Festiva owners today boast something closer to 45 or better. And considering gas prices are above $3.50 a gallon in all but one state, you might consider being an ogre for that.
Now, even brand-new out of the box, the Festiva was neither feature-rich — Car and Driver's review noted that it was "remarkably well outfitted" because as it included "an AM/FM stereo radio with a clock," standard — nor a relative pleasure on the road. And, hate to say it, but the Festiva's suspension hasn't exactly gotten smoother in the four subsequent presidential administrations. It's a little like driving a vibrator — you feel every piece of gravel, every crack. And it's not bone-shaking so much as potentially bone-destroying; the 1988 Festiva received one of the NHTSA's worst-ever ratings for passenger head injuries.
Still, you gotta love when a speedometer maxes out at eighty-five on top of tires approximate size of the new Ford F-150's steering wheel. It's sounds like a party, looks like a land monster, and ends up — not unlike most twenty-year-old pieces of machinery that ought to sell for twice as much — somewhere on the upside of disappointing
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