We make fun of the Cordoba today— hell, we made fun of the Cordoba when it was new— but wouldn’t Fiat be wise to slather at least one 2011 Chrysler with “gold”-plated-plastic medallions and get some smooth-voiced macho man to pitch it on TV?
I’m not talking about that faux-classy plastic stuff that kinda looks convincing after you’ve knocked back 11 French 75s at the Hole In The Mole Club and staggered up to your parked Avenger Brougham Martha Stewart Edition LXXX in the fog. No, I mean pure cheeze, what Frank Zappa called “Cheepnis.” We’re Americans, by God! Just knowing we can roll into a Chrysler showroom and then burn rubber off the lot with a machine dipped in polystryrene heraldic crests, glued-on chrome script, and NearlyOak™ paneling makes us feel better.
Right. These are the thoughts that run through my head when I see a Cordoba— say, for example, a ’78 like this one I found at a Denver self-service yard— at the end of its personal-luxury road.
The Cordoba was one of the many dead ends that Chrysler careened down during the Middle Malaise Era, a car whose semi-strong sales (at first) hid the financial precipice looming not far ahead. A few years later, the K-platform family saved Chrysler’s ass and Chrysler ditched rear-drivers entirely; the Cordoba hung on until 1983.
Sadly, this car does not have the optional Corinthian Leather interior. The Crusher will enjoy its flavor.
It’s not possible to write about the Cordoba without referring to this ad. Here ya go!