Let’s say you have a time machine, why not? It’s not a great time machine, though; you ordered it from Temu, and it feels pretty janky, made of brittle-seeming plastics and terrible upholstery. Plus, what looked like a sophisticated control panel in the ad turns out to be just a decal with two buttons on it. One is labeled “50 YEARS AGO,” and the other says “RETURN TO PRESENT.” The only other control is a long, spindly lever just cryptically labeled “ADJUSTMENT.” There’s no cupholder. The one good thing about it is that, when fully expanded, it’s easily big enough to hold a car.
In reading through the instructions, you find out a few things: it runs on a strange mix of vinegar, goat blood, and paraffin in a 10:5:9 ratio, it can only take you back exactly 50 years, and anything living that wishes to travel in it must be wearing a full latex bodysuit. So what are you going to do with this thing now that you’ve spent almost $138 on it? Going back 50 years isn’t enough for the time machine staple of killing Baby Hitler or anything like that, so what would be fun in 1976? Watch Operation Tall Ships as part of the Bicentennial Celebration? Visit a McDonald’s that still knew nothing of the McRib? Fly on the first Concorde flights? I have a better idea.
Buy a car.
Here’s how you’re going to do it: using 2026 technology, you’ll forge yourself a perfect cashier’s check for $50,000, which should be enough to buy you whatever car you want. You should probably trailer the time machine to locations or cities where you know the most car dealer options are available, so you have as many to pick from as possible. This is a time machine, not a space machine, after all. You may also want to bring clothes other than the latex bodysuit the machine demands you wear; that’s your call.
But what do you pick? There are so many possibilities! What about an MG Midget? 
Or maybe something really ’70s, like a Pacer?

…or a Mercury Capri? Those were pretty fun!

What if you wanted to be a real sicko and get something like a Pontiac Sunbird, so you can bring it back and be almost certain to have the best Sunbird in the world in 2026?

I bet you could do the same with a Volare:

A minty ’76 Suburban could be a fun counter to all the modern SUVs:

How about a really early Honda Accord? You never see those on the road anymore?

You could go weird and get a Lancia Gamma! I never said these had to be reliable cars, after all!

For me, I might be predictable and just go for a nice, fresh, new VW Beetle. I think a convertible. 
What would you pick? Assuming, as I mentioned, you have to physically get the time machine to the location you want it to be in on your own? Sky’s the limit! Well, I guess the limit is a forged $50,000 cashier’s check, which reminds me, you should probably head back to the future as soon as you can after buying the car, in case anyone gets wise.
Top graphic image: Volkswagen









1976 Alpine A110 1300
How am I the first to say the correct answer:
Trans Am!
My new favorite hobby. Take the first paragraph of every torch article and have AI illustrate it.
Rover SD1, with the ex-Buick Rover V8. Launched 1976
An AMC Hornet 2-door sedan, then drive it out to Los Altos and see if three guys could use a silent partner with $47,000 cash to help get their new computer company off the ground
Well since 1977 model year cars would come out later in the year I would get a 77 Trans Am with T-tops either black and gold like bandit, the all gold ones or a red one.
I’m not buying any car from 1976. I’m buying some depreciated, low-mileage used cars, before time and rust have their way with them. Fifty grand will buy me a lot of luxury and power, if not much fuel economy. A ten-year old GTO? An Eldorado only driven by a little old lady on Sundays? Maybe a genuine Studebaker Avanti? All in the budget.
For new cars a Porsche 911S would have excellent resale then go back and buy a Lancia or Scirocco to own a rust free example
$50K was a lot of money in 1976, so I’m assuming there’s not a limit on how many cars I can buy, just how much I can spend. So, I’m getting a three-car garage: a BMW 3.0Si ($15,047, including $407 for an electric sunroof) for comfy cruising; a Porsche 911S coupe ($14,585, give or take a few bucks, including a sunroof and the chrome dress-up kit that you hardly ever see) for funsies; and a basic Volvo 245 ($7,495) for when I need to haul stuff.
That’s a total of $37,127; I’ll invest the remaining $12,873 into something that, by the time I return to 2026, will have made me as fabulously wealthy as I need to be to maintain a fleet of 50-year-old—but more or less new!—Euromobiles in smog-legal condition.
The Mercedes-Benz 450SEL 6.9 was introduced in Germany in fall of 1975.
So yeah, a fully-loaded, velour interior Euro-spec 1976 6.9
And with the change – a used 1961-62 300SL disc-brake Roadster, plus tickets to bring them both stateside aboard the QE2.