Ashamed to admit it...I owned a 1978 Pontiac Phoenix. It truly defined the concept of P.O.S. Relatively brisk left turns invoked an engine stall which in turn cut off the power steering and a dramatic kickback in the steering wheel, putting my (then) new young bride in a ditch....twice. The engine vibrated like a John Deere tractor because the tap in the front end of the crankshaft for the fan/pulley attachment was 1/4" off center necessitating an engine replacement. The wheel covers resolutely refused to remain on the wheels. 0-60 times were best measured with time-lapse photography. This monstrosity underwent a mercy killing at 9000 miles at a stoplight in Chapel Hill, NC, expertly performed by a 16 year old driving a pickup truck through a red light and striking my wife centered over the driver's front wheel...cleaned the front end off the car like a knife...engine and front wheels in the bank parking lot...wife and remainder of the car in the Dairy Queen. Luckily, except for 15 stitches in her scalp and some cuts and bruises, she was otherwise uninjured. Even she admitted it was worth it to get rid of the Phoenix. By the way, the kid missed the light because he was looking in the rear view mirror at a state trooper behind him. HeHeHe.
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