What's That?

One of my younger work colleagues, who fancies himself a “car guy” and I, were talking about the various cars we have owned. The conversation was going along smoothly until I mentioned that I once owned a Buick Reatta.

“You mean a Buick Regal or Riviera, don’t you?” he asked.

“Nope, I mean a Reatta. I’ve also owned a Riviera and a Regal and I can assure you they were nothing like the Reatta.”

He looked dumbfounded and immediately went to his computer and googled Buick Reatta. A picture of the car appeared on the screen and it was obvious by his blank expression that he had no idea what he was looking at. I felt it was my duty to fill in the blanks.

I told him that the Reatta I owned was a 1989 hardtop with a sunroof. When I bought it, in 1994, Buick had already discontinued the model. It was the most technologically advanced car of its time and a total failure. From 1988 to 1991, Buick only sold 21,751 units. There are many reasons the car didn’t catch on, the biggest of which was the Buick brand.

David Buick started the Buick car company in 1899. Several years later, it became part of General Motors. People always considered the Buick brand a luxury car for the working class. During the forties and fifties, it was called the “doctor’s car.” Of course, that was before doctors made enough money to afford Cadillacs and Mercedes. Buick always produced a solid car with a comfortable ride. The bottom line, no one thought of a Buick as a sports car.

The Buick brand during the 70s through the 90s had to compete with Mustangs, Corvettes, Barracudas, Thunderbirds, and multiple imports. They had some success with the Grand National, but it didn’t last. Although it was crazy fast, the GN was too big to be a sports car and too ugly to attract a large following. Buick stopped producing it in 1987. Next up—Reatta.

I bought my 89 Reatta about a week after someone stole and stripped my 86 Toyota Supra for parts. The Springfield, Ma. Police had more important things to do, so I never found out who took my car, but I digress.

My new to me, car impressed everyone I showed it to. Most people weren’t familiar with the model and asked if it was a version of the Corvette or Jaguar. When I told them it was a Buick, they were stunned. What really blew them away was the built-in touch screen. The ECC, as it was called, controlled the radio and climate control functions, time and date reminder, computer and user-configurable over speed alarm, as well as diagnostic access to the vehicle’s electronic systems and sensors.

The interior sported two locking compartments, one behind each seat, and a pass-through door to the trunk. Both leather seats had electric adjusters, and the headlights were pop-up style. Under the hood was the same 3.8 V-6 the Grand National used minus the turbocharger. Yes, the car did what a halo car is supposed to do—it impressed.

Unfortunately, the honeymoon didn’t last long. I buy sports cars for a variety of reasons, handling being at the top of the list. Just because it looks like a sports car doesn’t mean it is one. Buick is known for its soft, almost mushy ride. Designers of this car must have never driven over twisty back roads or on an autocross course. The car floated like a small boat on a stormy sea. Its V-6 minus the turbocharger was a disappointment. I just expected more.

My biggest fear was the touch screen. It controlled everything in the car. I can live without the air conditioner, but no defroster in the middle of a New England winter, no way. Apparently, others felt the same way. The ECC was replaced by standard switches in the last two years of production.

I didn’t keep the car for very long, opting for a Mazda RX 7. I felt the car could have been a real home run. Instead, it was a swing and a miss.