I don't care much for K-Cars, but this New Yorker has been in my family my whole life.
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It's slow. It's a grandmother's car. It has a pocket for holding tissues. The paint is perfect. It's low miles. It's the 1989 Chrysler New Yorker, Landau Edition.
In 1989, this was the finest the then dying Chrysler, could offer. It was based on the company saving Chrysler K-Car platform, and shared many parts with many Mitsubishis (3.0 SOHC V6). But the style, the comfort, the presence was all American.
Though small in proportions, it is big in presence. The bold up right chrome grille, hidden headlights, and bricked out Landau roof line all make it stand out in today's aerodynamic soap bars. While many of the other 80's land barges shared this style, not as many pulled it off as simply and cleanly as the little New Yorker did with simple styling and small hints of chrome along the car. Vynal landau roofs were just pimp in the 80s, though I'm think vynal should stay on the seats... Those wonderful, wonderful seats.
Power for the car is from a small, but rather peppy 3.0L Single Over Head Cam Mitsubishi V6, an engine that is still used (though vastly updated) in the late model Eclipses. For the car's hefty weight, the 3.0L pulls suprisingly well through out the full RPM range, feeling even faster than my Firebird, or maybe that's because driving a brick that bounces feels fast over every thing.
Slip in the key, turn it over, and the silent V6 settles down to a little hum, and the full digital guages greet you with a fancy full-sweep test. Slid the heavy column shifter down, and roll out.
Handling? You truly don't drive this car, you give it a suggestion of where to go, and you just hope it goes there too.
Throttle is weightless, steering is non resistant, brakes are numb. You aim that proud Pentastar ahead and hope for the best in a hard corner. But, it's stupid fun, I mean really stupid fun. The car flops and leans and bounces over everything, while any bump in the road is absorbed easily. Even once you have stopped, you can watch out the hood line and see the nose of the car bounce up and down a few times more. Speed bumps are non existant, car simply wears off the impact in a few slow sways of the suspension. It's awesome. Going from the "I feel the painted stripes in the road" to "Hell, I don't even feel the child I just ran over" is a grand. The car doesn't like to be pushed fast, but compliments you greatly for cruising along.
The 80s was a helluva time for techonology, as evident by the Cell Phone, the Home PC, the Atari, and even the Compact Disk. And just about any modern computer feature you now think is standard now days, even for a KIA, was ground breaking back in 1989.
Power seats (with 2 driver memory)
Power mirrors
Power locks
Remote entry and trunk
Self Adjusting AC/Heater
Self Leveling ride
An information screen that tells you what bulb is burned out, what temp it is outside, what direction your going, what your average and instant MPG, tire pressure monitoring, engine management, and oil life meter.
Full digital dash
-and many more
There is a wealth of digital toys that we are just now making standard in cars today, that the New Yorker showed off in the 80s.
And the magic. The best reason one should ever own a 1980s land barge. God damn laz-y-boy bench seats. You slide in, slump down, and the deep vynal swallows your body in pure comfort. Seats won't hold you in a corner (trust me), by my god are they heaven to sit in. They invite you to sit down, and just cruise. Back seat leg room is enormous, and I remember sitting 4 kids wide in the back of that thing while still being absolutely comfortable. The Infinity sound system still is crisp and clear, and a nice touch to Limo-status: The rear passenger have a private head phone jack on the rear package deck, providing them with their own music.
It's slow, it's bouncy, it's smooth, it's luxury, and it was driven for 20 years to the beauty shop and grocery store by an old lady.
It's a 1989 Chysler New Yorker. And it's a helluva lotta awesome.
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Figured K-Car guys might like the story. The New Yorker ain't no Cadillac, but for it's size and price, it didn't need to be.
