We got a suggestion recently to try a regular feature that brings some likely-unwarranted attention to some really mundane, forgettable cars. Cars you couldn’t give a shit about even if the shit-donation foundation showed up at your door with promises that every shit you give will save the life of some poor, shitless child. We’re going to start Meh Car Mondays with a truly ignorable car: the Chevy Corsica.


The Corsica is notable for its staggeringly meh birth: when it was first released in 1987, it was only sold to rental car companies. It started life as a boring-ass fleet car, and only after it proved its inherent forgettability to the masses was it made available for private sale.

It actually sold quite well, being one of the best-selling cars in America in the late ‘80s, so there were a lot of these around for an intrepid car-spotter to ignore.


Like all truly meh cars, the Corsica was fine. It basically did its job. Its styling was reasonably up to date, its 120 horsepower four and 140 HP V6 were adequate, if not exciting, and it was a safe bet for many Americans (and, surprisingly, a good number of Europeans) looking for a car.

That’s why it’s so meh: if it really sucked, then it’d be interesting.

If you’re still having trouble with the meh car concept, try this thought-experiment: can you picture a hard-core Corsica fan? If you can picture it, do you believe such a person actually exists?

I’m sure there’s one or two weirdo fetishists out there, but today Corsicas have all but disappeared from our roads and nobody seems to have really noticed. When I finally make my billion dollars (from a suppository that charges your phone) and start the International Library of Autos, and need one example of every car ever made, I suspect finding a decent Corsica may be a difficult task.

Because nobody is restoring Corsicas. No one cares. I don’t even care, and I need one for my future Automotive Library!


(Thanks for the idea, Kristin!)