Oops, sorry, too late:
More than any other American car company, Pontiac delivered cars to the market bristling with a maverick, edgy appeal and genuine soul — a commodity so far removed from most of Detroit’s products then that it was striking. Pontiac was “marching to a different drummer” — or should I say stomping its feet, loudly — with a rebel attitude so distant from the painfully conservative GM culture that it was like civil disobedience on a grand corporate scale, and it rocked GM to its core. But boy, did the bean counters love the profits that those rebels were bringing in.
If ever a car company defined “swagger” — Pontiac was it. Pontiac was GM’s “pirate” division, and if they could have raised a “skull and crossbones” flag over its headquarters on Oakland Avenue in its heyday, they would have. On any given day, Pontiac was always pissing someone off down at GM headquarters because they just couldn’t help themselves from bitch-slapping Chevrolet and sending Chevy executives whining to the 14th floor like little school girls over some perceived transgression. Everything Chevy did Pontiac would take pride in doing better, or faster, or with more style, and then they’d promote it more expertly too. And it drove Chevy executives crazy.
Eventually, it got to the bean counters too, and you know the rest of the story.
Bitter Irony Dept.: Just now coming up on iTunes: Alan Jackson, “Buicks to the Moon.” Then again, as Chevrolet once pointed out, they don’t write songs about Volvos.