Cars And Track Staff
In the late 80s, my buddy Tom lived in a house divided. On one side, you had the American Dream—specifically, the kind of dream that involved plush velour seating and enough chrome to blind a low-flying pilot. His parents were Buick loyalists. Not because they loved the engineering, but because of a geopolitical grudge that would make a UN diplomat sweat.
Growing up Korean in that era meant the driveway was a battlefield. Tom’s parents wouldn’t be caught dead in a Honda or a Toyota. Why? Because the wounds of the Korean War and the Japanese occupation weren’t just history. Tom, however, didn’t care about 1945; he cared about 1987. He spent his nights dreaming of the Buick Grand National GNX.
He wanted that turbocharged 3.8L V6. He wanted to tear up the streets while sitting on a seat that felt like a senior center sofa.
The Philly Pivot
Fast forward a bit. Tom moves to Philly, gains some independence, and experiences the harsh reality of “The City of Brotherly Love” (which mostly involves potholes and parallel parking).
The next time I see him, he’s not rolling in a blacked-out Buick. He pulls up in a 1990 Nissan Maxima SE.
Wait, what? The kid whose parents viewed a Datsun emblem like a personal insult was now rocking the OG “4-Door Sports Car” (4DSC).
Why the Maxima?
It turns out, even the deepest generational grudges have an expiration date—usually right around the third time the Buick’s alternator gives up the ghost in a suburban driveway.
- The Engine: The ’91 Maxima had that sweet 190-hp V6 that actually liked to rev, unlike the Buick engines that sounded like a tractor having a cough after 4,000 RPM.
- The Build Quality: Tom finally realized that “Domestic Luxury” in 1990 was mostly just cheap plastic covered in fake wood grain. The Nissan actually stayed together.
- The Stickers: Nissan was literally putting “4DSC” decals in the window. It was marketing genius. It told your parents “It’s a sensible sedan” while telling your friends “I’m going to ruin this transmission by 11 PM.”
The Verdict
Maybe enough time had passed for the family to forgive the past. Or, more likely, Tom’s dad got tired of drinking the terrible coffee in the Buick service lounge while waiting for a technician named “Murph” to figure out why the power windows wouldn’t work. Tom didn’t get his GNX torque, but he got something better: a car that actually started in the morning and could out-handle a marshmallow. Sorry, Buick—the Maxima won the war for the driveway.
