The Dodge Coronet Can Be Anything You Want It To Be.

By Mark Weisseg

The Dodge Coronet pictured here is my kind of car. The model started off at the beginning of the 50s as a full-size car, but really came into its own from the fifth generation onwards between 1965 – 1975 as a mid-size, musclecar powerhouse.

When I saw this example at a recent show I was drawn to it. The first four generations have that classic 50s look, but it’s the later models with the more squared off muscle car look which seemed to ooze power, but they weren’t all built the same.

I have considered a car like this for some time. A car like this? Two doors, hubcaps, clean and pretty quiet. Automatic transmission and nothing in the dash like a tach to give it away. It’s just a quiet, simple car. Yes, one could buy one with a slant six engine or maybe a 318 small V8. But, for a few bucks more you could have ordered it with a 383 or a 440. And let’s not forget it was possible to also buy it with a Hemi. But that would give it away.

If you like the simple life, dream of a quiet lake front home in the woods then this buggy is for you. You can quietly drive this up and down the country roads and nobody will have a clue. But, every once in a while after you watch the nightly news report or get another bill you did not expect you can open up. Yes, climb into the soft Coronet, buckle up the lap seat belts, pull the car gently onto your street and then pause. Then you feel your blood pressure rise and your right foot is getting heavier. Finally you believe it’s time. The nosy neighbor is watching you and the small kids stop to see what is going on.

Then, you mash the gas pedal to the floor and billowing white smoke pours from the wheel wells. The car is not really moving much but the tires are screaming, the smoke is black as coal, the engine is near the melting point and every living, breathing thing within 100 yards turns to see you ripping the road in half. Finally you let up a bit and the car lurches forward about twenty feet. The kids clap there hands in approval mode, the nosy neighbor just tucks herself behind the old curtains while the cats and dogs run for cover. You gently pull forward, make a U turn and slowly drive it back into your garage. As you turn the key off the engine is ticking, the smell of rubber persists, and you feel like a million bucks.

Who needs medicines, or relaxation tips, or Yoga. Screw that. Just lay yourself a monster burnout once a month and everything feels new again. The flowers look brighter, the grass greener and your life seems valuable again. As for the nosy neighbor, she will need to take an ambien tonight to sleep while you will fall asleep like a little baby in the arms of a loving mother. It’s the muscle car away my friends.

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