You could look at the accident one of two ways. The first way to look at it was that the backhoe was at fault. It backed out halfway across the northbound exit ramp to Bethel Road from Ohio SR-315, forcing my brother to take too rapid of an avoidance maneuver, spin his pristine Porsche 944, and hit a streetlight, causing said streetlight to fall into the freeway traffic.
The second way to look at it — and, in fairness, I must note that this view was the one espoused by the Columbus Police — was that my brother, Mark, had been traveling at perhaps one hundred miles per hour (“More like one twenty,” he sniffed to me in the aftermath) and that therefore the backhoe operator could have had no reasonable expectation that the red Porsche+Audi would arrive well before he could move back off the road.
Either way, it was time for the punishment car.
When I totaled my 200SX at the tender age of sixteen, my punishment car was a Mercury Marquis Brougham. Mark, on the other hand, never crashed a car in his teenage years. What he did manage to do was comprehensively trash a new Jetta and a new Infiniti G20 in series, the latter so badly that the lease-end damage report ran to seven thousand dollars and multiple pages. Dad decided he should have a used car, but somehow “used car” ended up being “absolutely pristine 2.7-liter 944 formerly owned by the local TV news princess”.
“There’s good news and bad news,” my bro said to me on the phone. “The good news is that I have a Porsche and I’m six years younger than you are. The bad news is that your shitbox Land Rover left the line with no factory options.” I looked out the window, saw the “SD” logo on my ’97 Disco five-speed, and hung my head in the appropriate level of shame. Half a year later, I used that same crappy truck to pick him up at the accident scene.
The next day, two proposals were placed before our father, who art in New York. Mark suggested replacing the 944 with a Boxster. I suggested replacing it with a Hyundai. The old man must have been annoyed; not only did he accede to my suggestion, he told Mark that his role would be limited to co-signer of the loan. “Hyundais,” he responded, “are for daytime strippers who are no longer particularly compelled by the current Grand Am’s styling.” I thought this was ironic, given that he was seeing two daytime strippers at the time, but I had to concede that he spoke from experience.
Objections aside, the next day we went to see the four-headlamp Tiburon. At $13,900 or so (according to my distant recollection), it was surprisingly well-equipped. In a straight line it didn’t give up much to the 944, and if it had a rather dismal black-plastic interior, it also had a strong, clear sound system. As with the Elantra and Accent of the time, the control efforts were somewhat surreal. The clutch gave the impression of having no spring attached to it, offering the meekest of pedal resistance. The gearshift waved around in space, occasionally notching lightly into a slot when the stars aligned just so. The brakes approximated Citroen’s famous rubber button, going from “no stop” to “full stop” in one soggy inch. Steering was distant from the road and the column wobbled gently.
At six foot two, I found the roof too low; at five foot eight, Mark found the window sills too high. The silver paint used for accenting throughout the interior looked like it would fade and rub off, and that appearance was not deceiving. The rear seats were a cruel, cramped joke, and the hatchback covered a very oddly shaped cargo area which seemed to be full the minute my brother threw his tenor saxophone and gig bag in there.
On a fast back-road test drive, the Tiburon revealed an odd quality. Although everything felt flimsy, the car really wasn’t flimsy at all. It had some torsional rigidity and was trustworthy in the turns. Once the shifter’s peculiarities entered one’s kinesthetic memory, it was fast enough to use and the clutch was abuse-proof. Best of all, it seemed to have enough brake. Mark said something that is probably repeated nationally a thousand times a day, even now: “Hyundais are a lot better than I thought they would be.” We closed the deal at invoice and hit the road.
Something happened to my brother. He kept his new car clean and free of debris. Over the next few years, the Tiburon stayed looking good, even as the odometer crested 70,000 miles. I can’t ascribe it to having to make his own payments, because he regularly forgot to make them, sometimes for months at a time. I think the car simply earned his respect.
The daytime strippers disappeared, replaced by a doctoral student of clarinet performance. She arrived in a Nissan Sentra but was soon driving a new Elantra, converted by Mark’s pro-Hyundai fervor. The Tiburon gave way to a loaded Santa Fe. For years my brother told everybody who would listen what a great damn car the Koreans could make. His friends bought Hyundais. He started to inquire as to why I didn’t have any Hyundais.
“Your new Land Rover may have all the options,” he would say, “but the Santa Fe 3.5L offers more for less.” Finally, annoyed unto death by his conversion from jazz artist to Seoul man, I dragged him to a Mazda dealer and made him drive an RX-8. He got out of the car and announced his intention to buy it. “Great car,” he said, and then, wistfully,
“It reminds me of my Tiburon.”
“Your new Land Rover may have all the options,” he would say, “but the Santa Fe 3.5L offers more for less.” Finally, annoyed unto death by his conversion from jazz artist to Seoul man, I dragged him to a Mazda dealer and made him drive an RX-8. He got out of the car and announced his intention to buy it. “Great car,” he said, and then, wistfully,
“It reminds me of my Tiburon.”
Jack, one of your absolute best, completely clean closing lines. Made me laugh.
+1!
+2
+1
+5 (if I’m counting right)
Must say I’m baffled. A former Porsche owner perceived a dynamic similarity between the Tib and a Mazda RX-8?
There are dynamic and ergonomic similarities between the new Genesis Coupe and the RX-8 as well. That should make more sense, given that they’re both RWD 2+2s, but there’s more to it than that.
I remember that generation Tiburon came in the most awful hue of yellow. It was like it had been painted bright yellow but someone had shaken a huge powder puff over the car just before the paint dried. I’ve never been a fan nor thought much of yellow cars, but those yellow Tiburons turned me into an active hater of yellow cars.
I think it’s called Road Paint Yellow. I’ve seen in on some other brands too. The only Yellow that I like is the one E36 ///M3 had – Dakar Yellow.
I thought this was ironic, given that he was seeing two daytime strippers at the time, but I had to concede that he spoke from experience.
All I can say, Jack, is that when I’m cruising through TTAC articles in my RSS reader and don’t have time to read them all… I do take time to read all of yours. (No slight intended towards the other fine writers, of course).
A friend had a Tiburon just like the one above, only in black. They enjoyed it for years until they bought a Forrester. They like that, too.
The only yellow car I ever liked was mine above. I agree with the watered-down look of the yellow used on the Tiburon. Makes you wonder if the humidity in the paint booth was deliberately set too high!
Going from a 944 to a Tiburon? Could be worse.
My BiL went from an (ailing) Porsche Boxster to a Kia Rio 4-door.
Yup – it got worse!
Damn, Jack. I figured it was just you, but it turns out that your whole family is insane. Any chance you can put up a live feed of your Thanksgiving dinner? I’d buy that for a dollar.
That would need an [R] rating for sure!
Baruths are like mountain lions or something; always traveling but never in the same place and a little testy when they meet. We’ve had one major family gathering in my thirty-nine years; it wasn’t convenient for most of us to attend.
@Jack: See; I knew we had at least 1 thing in common.
Good story.
Love. It.
You had me at “Either way, it was time for the punishment car.”
Fantastic writing, as usual dude. Kudos.
Kinda sounds like 1997 Neon R/T.
Baruth you are a great writer, very engaging… but damn you were spoiled growing up huh?!? I had a Disco SD, stripped is a relative term there. And your brother… being punished for wrecking his 944 with a brand new Tib? spoiled… spoiled…
+1. With this article, Baruth reaffirms that he is the finest storyteller in the automotive press.
He also reveals quite a bit about the origins of his vast array of superiority complexes.
Anyway, keep them coming please.
In 1999, the setting of this story, I was twenty-eight years old and working two jobs. My Disco SD cost me $485 a month.
I would characterize my upbringing as middle-middle class. My brother was younger and enjoyed more of the fruits of my parents’ labor. :)
Well that puts some perspective on it… sounds like the brother was spoiled! LOL
Funny coincidence, I also had my Disco in 1998-99, also paying 485 a month, and also 28-29 at the time. Only one job though… post-military govt contracting gig was paying well.
Would it be rude to ask which Baruth has dated the best looking stripper?
At the Woodward Dream Cruise, there’s a club of Tiburon owners that hangs out in a parking lot just north of the zoo. If you think one Tiburon looks a little odd, you should see a parking lot full of custom painted Tiburons in their piscine styled wonder.
My brother has dated some stunning professionals but I rather impartially feel that my girl was the finest specimen to ever put on Lucite heels. And she’s capable of understanding a complex AIX LPAR diagram.
AIX LPAR
Is that anything like CBT?
I used to know computers. Now I call up my son’s friends.
“And she’s capable of understanding a complex AIX LPAR diagram.”
Is it wrong that I find that more attractive than the stripper-grade body?
Yes.
Pervert.
I owned a ’99 Accent that seemed to be trouble-free for most of the time that I owned it. I trashed the interior though. It lasted at least until the head gasket blew on the second engine.
Second engine? The DOHC 2.0 from a circa 2000 Tibby is literally a bolt-in for a ’99 Accent. Don’t even have to modify the wiring harness.
“The rear seats were a cruel, cramped joke, and the hatchback covered a very oddly shaped cargo area”
The concept car for the Tiburon had a single rear seat mounted sideways. This didn’t make it to production, but Hyundai didn’t bother to restyle the greenhouse to accomodate that reality.
Back in the early 2000s, you could get a Quaife torsen diff that would fit the Accent, Elantra, and Tibby. It was a DSM piece that had one gear reversed, taking advantage of the Alpha and Beta motors and trannies being mirror-image copies of the Mitsu 4g61/3 drivetrains.
That interior looks a lot like our 01 Elantra (also silver) with 151k miles on it. I call it a ‘beater’ car (it does have bumps and bruises), but it’s given me less trouble than my friend’s 07 HHR has given him.
I finally figured out what I dislike about the Genesis Coupe : it looks like a fraking Tiburon!
After the Scoupe, the Tiburon was a breath of fresh air at Hyundai and a bit of a turning point in my opinion. I also have fond memories of Paul Choiniere running a rally prepped (and AWD) Tiburon up Mt. Washington and through the woods of Maine before Subaru took over everything. Pleasant memories of a simpler time.
Here In Chile the Tiburon was a 4 time rally champion
Baruth, every piece you post is gold. Keep em coming.
When you publish your first short story, let us know. OK?
It’s a shame about this car’s replacement. The Tuscani/Coupe that replaced this was much better in terms of refinement, rear seat space and looks. But it was dog slow in comparison. Too heavy for the 2.0.
Which is why they offered it with a V6 as well, at least in the US. Unfortunately it was a weak V6.
Be thankful to have never driven it in 2.0 AT. Or if you have, be thankful that you are no longer doing so. The 2.0 AT is so weak that even after boost, the transmission could only handle about 120-ish to the wheels. Not even enough to scare a kindergartener. Handling was great, though, all things considered.
Gotta love this Top Gear comparison btwn the Tiburon and Lexus SC.
How did he like the g20?