The Nisha Call


I generally try not to do this. Last time we looked at a imported, Japanese coupe from the early nineties. This time we’re looking at an imported, Japanese coupe from the early nineties. Funny how that shook out. Importing cars isn’t really that popular of a thing to do (it’s a super complicated process). Back in Pennsylvania, when I went out hunting for Forgotten Metal, the endless farmland and suburbs could be relied upon to throw up some rusty American relic, or maybe a British sports car. Enough to keep things fresh and different week to week. But New York City? You never quite know what you’re going to get. Lately its been imported, Japanese coupes from the early nineties. And last week’s GT-R I get: people really like GT-Rs. It’s obvious why someone would want to import one. This, though, is a little harder to pin down. So cue the music, it’s a Forgotten Metal Mystery. This is a 1991 Toyota Soarer.  Continue reading


Nuclear Fears


Remember when they remade Godzilla a couple of years ago? The one that had Walter White and the Scarlet Witch in it? Remember how that movie was, like, just okay? I went into that movie with very high expectations. I wasn’t even a particularly big fan of the original movies (I mean, as much as a nineteen-year-old boy can not be into giant monsters fighting each other in major metropolitan areas). But for some reason, the buildup to that movie grabbed me. It might’ve been that first trailer, which was excellent. But the movie itself fell a little flat. Not enough Brian Cranston, in my opinion. And are we really supposed to believe that a monster escaped from a top-secret government facility two miles away from Las Vegas and no one noticed? Anyway. This doesn’t do that. This is totally satisfying payoff to overwhelming hype. This is the real Godzilla. This is a 1990 R32 Nissan Skyline GT-R.  Continue reading

Gladiator No More

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If you were to go up to any random stranger and say the word “Jeep,” they would almost certainly shift away from you uncomfortably. But they’d do so while thinking about something like this or this, most likely. What I’m trying to say is that the Jeep brand owes a lot to the Wrangler, in much the same way that wineries owe a lot to grapes. Pickup trucks on the other hand? Not so much. As a result, pickup trucks with a Jeep badge are kind of a rare breed. And if its name is any indication, this is the clearest expression of that breed: the 1972 Jeep Pickup.  Continue reading

If You’re Into That Kind Of Thing


I’m going to reveal something about myself here that you may judge me for. I like to grind my own beans for my coffee in the morning. I know it’s pretentious, I know most people can’t taste the difference. It’s not for everyone, but I like it. It’s something I enjoy doing. There’s a certain comfort I take from the methodical nature of making coffee the old fashioned way. It adds another dimension to the rhythm of my morning routine: the fact that before I walk out the door, I’ve made something with my hands. The tactility of it all. And the coffee’s pretty good too. The reason I bring this up is not to try and convert you to the Church Of Coffee Bean Grinding (praise be), but rather to talk about this. The 1955 Plymouth Belvedere.  Continue reading

I Am The Egg-Van


I don’t think I can properly convey how desirable this beige, people-carrying hunk of pill-shaped sex is. Toyota, right now, is a company so bureaucratic Bong Joon Ho is about one new subcompact crossover away from making a movie about it. Yeah, they’ve got the 86, but that’s half a Subaru and getting old. The new Supra, which is being co-developed alongside BMW, sounds promising, but every time they try to convince us the new Camry is worth anything near what they paid for the rights to that Freddy Mercury song I die a little inside. But let’s take a minute to travel back to a magical era full of hope and funny designs on paper cups. This is a 1997 Toyota Previa with All Trac. Continue reading

Pizza And Beer


You know that one friend who, after imbibing enough of one substance or another, becomes a completely different person? It’s a more common phenomenon than you might think. My personal version of it is called “Adventure Mike” and I won’t mince words: Adventure Mike is a hoot and a half. He’s a really great time. The life of the party. He’s also, incidentally, going to put me in prison one day. Adventure Mike once ended the night with thirteen more dollars than he started with and a new leather jacket. Normal Mike (who I like to call Mike Classic) has no idea where the money or the jacket came from. You see where this is going: that was a metaphor, and this is a 1979 Fiat 124 Spider 2000. Continue reading

Great News!


There are these crackers that are sold in Europe called TUC crackers or TUC biscuits or something and they’re ruining my life. Not because they’re bad. The opposite, actually. They’re awesome. They’re like Ritz but better. TUC has perfected the ratio between salt and cracker flawlessly, and they won’t give them to us. TUC doesn’t operate in the US, in part because we have Ritz. But Ritz is merely a cracker. TUC, to Americans, is a forbidden way of life. I can only enjoy them in my memory. It’s my personal version of Rick Sanchez’s Szechuan sauce. Anyway, here’s a car. This is a 1977 Dacia 1300. Continue reading

Death And Taxis


Gunshots rung out one warm summer’s day at a pool room in Chicago. The year was 1923, and by the end of the afternoon about a dozen men had been taken in for questioning. One man, Frank Sexton, lay dead as a doornail. The next night, a bomb went off in the home of Morris Markin, a prominent businessman and Russian immigrant. Markin’s okay, but now he’s spooked. And his next move would eventually lead to one of the most iconic cars the world has ever seen. This is a 1976 Checker Marathon.
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The Dream Of The Nineties Is Alive!


Yes, I know. This is the second red, off-roady type vehicle we’ve done in as many weeks. But trust me when I say this is a very special piece of Forgotten Metal. So forgotten, in fact, that this car- this very car– is the only one of it’s kind on the entire East Coast. This car gives me the same feeling I assume I’d get if I were given permission to set fire to the Wheel of Fortune. I hate that show. But I love this car. This is a 1991 Volkswagen Golf Country.  Continue reading

Life Sucks, Then You Die


Two-door SUVs are a fickle group. Europeans seem to like them, but we red-blooded, down-home country folk of the good old US of A could never quite wrap our noggins around the concept. They’re the Marmite of the car world in that way. SUVs with less than four doors have enjoyed a long and diverse history in America, but never a particularly successful one. Yet, much like the makers of Marmite, manufacturers from both at home and abroad keep trying to sell them to us, in spite of overwhelming evidence to suggest we’d be more interested in paying for a mud bath with Newt Gingrich. This is a 1988 Dodge Ramcharger.  Continue reading