Cars are cars, all over the world
This is a rewrite of a previous entry, due to a suggestion from smilingbeef that it might make a good column. As such, I've foregone the links that the original entry had. I don't particularly care for the ending (I rarely do, as I'm sure I've said before), so any thoughts on it would certainly be appreciated.
I'm not a gearhead or a car nut, but cars have always interested me. I like the classics and exotics that others fall in love with, but some of my favorites are also the more, well, utilitarian type. I've owned two Oldsmobile Cutlass Cieras. Deliberately.
On the numerous trips I made between Gary, Indiana and Chattanooga, Tennessee between 1994 and 1998, I saw lots of cars belonging to our friends from the North visiting the States. Most of the time, the cars were only interesting in so far that they had plates from Ontario, Alberta, or British Columbia rather than Illinois, Ohio, or Florida. On one occasion, however, I saw a car that made me do a double take. It wasn't a street rod, a classic gem, or even a six-digit-priced performance car. Nope, it was just a Chevy Corsica. Except it wasn't a Chevy Corsica. That Pontiac Tempest was what piqued my interest in the differences between markets for cars, especially between English-speaking countries.
For example, in America and in Australia in the '60s, Ford introduced both the Falcon and the Mustang. Here in the States, the Falcon was discontinued and the Mustang has become an icon. Down Under, the opposite took place, and the Falcon lives while the Mustang is just a memory. In fact, a lot of our classic Ford models still exist there in addition to the Falcon -- the Fairlane, the Fairmont, the LTD, and, yes, the beloved Fiesta too.
In the UK, no Chevy brand we know exists. (Interestingly, at one point, the minivan we knew as the Chevy Venture was once marketed in the United Kingdom ... as the Vauxhall Sintra.) One of my favorite descriptions of a car, which from what I know about the British is quite fitting, is for the Lacetti Station Wagon: "More space usually means less style, and we’re not going to pretend it’s drop dead gorgeous, but the Lacetti Station Wagon is perfect for kids, dogs and anything else you might want to throw in it. And it looks pretty OK too." Go across to the Emerald Isle, however, and "OK" magically turns into "sporty": "Stylish proportions, comfortable roominess and a convincing loading capacity - that’s what makes the new Lacetti Sports Wagon such an attractive offer. Looking for fresh design in a sporty station wagon? Go for the Lacetti!"
The Pontiac GTO is really just a rebadged Holden Monaro. Yep, the name that signified American muscle in its heyday is now an Aussie in American clothes. (Nothing against the Australians or the car, but I'd rather Pontiac just not pretend it's a "rebirth" of the GTO.) Holden doesn't exist in the UK, either, but the Monaro does as a Vauxhall. And I don't care if they call it a Tornado in Latin America or a Lumina Ute in South Africa, it'll always be an El Camino to me.
Cultures are different and so marketing the cars to those cultures is different. To do that, often a company will change the model, the make, or both. I'm not a fan of it, but I understand. I know that even nearby countries have to be treated differently. The Irish and the British aren't the same, neither are Aussies and Kiwis. I understand that too.
Maybe part of the problem is that I have yet to visit our neighbor to the north, but I've always imagined the United States and Canada as possibly being the most similar pair of countries in the world. I mean, in other words, if you'd ask a Canadian to go to the States or send an American north of the 49th Parallel, they'll adapt fairly quickly or at least not suffer the culture shock as they might if they went to, say, Scotland. Yet I've noticed they have quite a few differences in the cars the Canadians receive beyond the Chevy Corsica/Pontiac Tempest of the early '90s.
I won't go into it too much, but in the case of the entity formerly known as The Chrysler Corporation, I know of at least two models -- the Dynasty of the late '80s and the Intrepid -- that were Dodges in America but Chryslers in Canada. While Pontiac and Chevrolet generally mirror each other in America, they seem to do so even more in Canada with a Pontiac version of the Cobalt (Pursuit) and Aveo (Wave) that we don't have. (They have the Chevy versions as well.) Additionally, Chevrolet has two models in Canada you won't find in an American showroom, the Optra and the Epica (which are rebadged Daewoos). The reason I find this interesting is that while you cannot drive between Great Britain and Ireland or Australia and New Zealand, a Canadian roadtripper easily can bring his Pontiac Pursuit into America and most Americans would have no idea that model even existed, and might be a bit perplexed when their Pontiac dealer told them it was a Canadian model only.
It's just something I (and maybe only I) find curious.
I'm not a gearhead or a car nut, but cars have always interested me. I like the classics and exotics that others fall in love with, but some of my favorites are also the more, well, utilitarian type. I've owned two Oldsmobile Cutlass Cieras. Deliberately.
On the numerous trips I made between Gary, Indiana and Chattanooga, Tennessee between 1994 and 1998, I saw lots of cars belonging to our friends from the North visiting the States. Most of the time, the cars were only interesting in so far that they had plates from Ontario, Alberta, or British Columbia rather than Illinois, Ohio, or Florida. On one occasion, however, I saw a car that made me do a double take. It wasn't a street rod, a classic gem, or even a six-digit-priced performance car. Nope, it was just a Chevy Corsica. Except it wasn't a Chevy Corsica. That Pontiac Tempest was what piqued my interest in the differences between markets for cars, especially between English-speaking countries.
For example, in America and in Australia in the '60s, Ford introduced both the Falcon and the Mustang. Here in the States, the Falcon was discontinued and the Mustang has become an icon. Down Under, the opposite took place, and the Falcon lives while the Mustang is just a memory. In fact, a lot of our classic Ford models still exist there in addition to the Falcon -- the Fairlane, the Fairmont, the LTD, and, yes, the beloved Fiesta too.
In the UK, no Chevy brand we know exists. (Interestingly, at one point, the minivan we knew as the Chevy Venture was once marketed in the United Kingdom ... as the Vauxhall Sintra.) One of my favorite descriptions of a car, which from what I know about the British is quite fitting, is for the Lacetti Station Wagon: "More space usually means less style, and we’re not going to pretend it’s drop dead gorgeous, but the Lacetti Station Wagon is perfect for kids, dogs and anything else you might want to throw in it. And it looks pretty OK too." Go across to the Emerald Isle, however, and "OK" magically turns into "sporty": "Stylish proportions, comfortable roominess and a convincing loading capacity - that’s what makes the new Lacetti Sports Wagon such an attractive offer. Looking for fresh design in a sporty station wagon? Go for the Lacetti!"
The Pontiac GTO is really just a rebadged Holden Monaro. Yep, the name that signified American muscle in its heyday is now an Aussie in American clothes. (Nothing against the Australians or the car, but I'd rather Pontiac just not pretend it's a "rebirth" of the GTO.) Holden doesn't exist in the UK, either, but the Monaro does as a Vauxhall. And I don't care if they call it a Tornado in Latin America or a Lumina Ute in South Africa, it'll always be an El Camino to me.
Cultures are different and so marketing the cars to those cultures is different. To do that, often a company will change the model, the make, or both. I'm not a fan of it, but I understand. I know that even nearby countries have to be treated differently. The Irish and the British aren't the same, neither are Aussies and Kiwis. I understand that too.
Maybe part of the problem is that I have yet to visit our neighbor to the north, but I've always imagined the United States and Canada as possibly being the most similar pair of countries in the world. I mean, in other words, if you'd ask a Canadian to go to the States or send an American north of the 49th Parallel, they'll adapt fairly quickly or at least not suffer the culture shock as they might if they went to, say, Scotland. Yet I've noticed they have quite a few differences in the cars the Canadians receive beyond the Chevy Corsica/Pontiac Tempest of the early '90s.
I won't go into it too much, but in the case of the entity formerly known as The Chrysler Corporation, I know of at least two models -- the Dynasty of the late '80s and the Intrepid -- that were Dodges in America but Chryslers in Canada. While Pontiac and Chevrolet generally mirror each other in America, they seem to do so even more in Canada with a Pontiac version of the Cobalt (Pursuit) and Aveo (Wave) that we don't have. (They have the Chevy versions as well.) Additionally, Chevrolet has two models in Canada you won't find in an American showroom, the Optra and the Epica (which are rebadged Daewoos). The reason I find this interesting is that while you cannot drive between Great Britain and Ireland or Australia and New Zealand, a Canadian roadtripper easily can bring his Pontiac Pursuit into America and most Americans would have no idea that model even existed, and might be a bit perplexed when their Pontiac dealer told them it was a Canadian model only.
It's just something I (and maybe only I) find curious.