If you’ve read my past writings that involve a Chrysler Newport, you’ll know about the history of one 1973 model that is pretty much my indoctrination into the adrenaline high of acceleration. My older cousin Vance owned the car, and he made great use of the V8 underneath the hood whenever he damn well felt like it. One night, he forgot that he was transporting his kindergarten-aged cousin back to his grandfather’s house, wound up doing triple-digit speeds in a Colorado Springs neighborhood and set the hook for a life-long addiction. I last saw that exact car sometime before June 1989, and the chances of it surviving to this day are so minimal it isn’t even funny. There’s a better shot of my first car, the rot-box 1975 Camaro, still existing in any form than that Newport making it past engine raiders, demo-derby types and thirty years of “ugly brown car” types. 
Other than being a lighter shade of brown, this is about as close as it gets to Vance’s Newport. Another one of my AllCollectorCars.com hunts, this is the closest I’ve come to a dead-ringer. The whitewalls would be gone in half a second, but the 440 and 727 are welcome touches and I see a fully intact air-conditioning system, the good classic Chrysler stuff. If it works, I’m sold. Yes, it’s a barge. It’s big enough to sleep across the bench or in the trunk with the lid closed. It’s still rocking a CB and has the antenna on the trunk. It’s caramel frapp brown with a matching vinyl top and I don’t care, I think it’s great. Give the car some highway legs and a hitch to tow a small camp trailer behind and I’m set.
Wait…$5,950 and it’s in Henderson, Tennessee? Oh, this just got bad, real fast.
Mine was a ’74. A 4dr with a 383. I could fit more in the trunk of that car than the pickup bed of my F150. LOL.
And just when I’d spent my car savings fund on a practical highway cruiser that actually fits in my garage. Sometimes this whole “responsible adult” thing gets tiring.