There can’t be too many left. Especially if you drove them like my brother and I did. It seemed like a good idea in the winter of 1980: replace the 7 seater Oldsmobile with a smaller, lighter car. The choices were basically Fairmont vs. GM A-body. Even my Dad knew that the AMC Concord and the Aspen/Volare twins were decrepit old shitboxes rooted in the 1960s.
I can tell you first hand that:
it’s woefully underpowered. 88-hp is just not enough.
The only thing imaginative is the hybrid strut front suspension and aluminum bumpers instead of heavy chromed steel.
Everything else is derivative. The headlight/running light pattern is from every other American sedan of the day. The vents are leftovers from Mark V production. Everything is a rectangle.
It’s not that efficient. The trunk is shallow. The seats are basically amorphous slabs of foam on the floor.
Did I mention cheap? Everything inside is brittle plastic, thin vinyl or flimsy urethane.
This should be me, except that I already did the blue on blueZephyr part of his and I already did the yellow Fairmont. OTOH, paint aside, this is basically the car I learned to drive a stick shift with (at least without the DUIpart).
Me: “Oooh 8 Barrel. This car feels so European” 8: “STFU, n00b. you have never been to Europe. Riding (or crashing) in a Fiat or speeding or egg missions in a POS Opel do not count as expertise. Ass. “