1971 Cadillac Coupe deVille - The Man

I went kicking and screaming into my parent's inexplicable Cadillac foray of the late 1970's. They had already replaced the long in the tooth '68 Ford Ranch Wagon (think Ford Country Squire with no soul) the summer prior with my favorite car ever, a 1970 Buick Electra 225. I loved that car even though it was a four door. Brown too. That'70 Electra, still to this day, remains the favorite car of my family growing up. Sigh. Well,  Mother wanted her Cadillac and Dad was all too willing to oblige her.

For several years after we got "The Cadillac", a blue on black '72 Sedan deVille not a more stylish Coupe deVille like I would've much preferred (pictured here is a 1971), we had both cars so I was always able to size up both as they sat front to back crushing the blacktop in front of our house. back on Long Island. I thought the Buick, despite its vinyl clad interior, the more luxurious of the two. I thought the Cadillac sinister, foreboding. Its black leather seats austere, uncomfortable. The Cadillac was a sloppy, shuddering mess of a car too. Perhaps it had been in an accident and was screwed back together poorly. I don't know but something was amiss with that car. I mean, the windshield was loose and bounced around inside the frame! The Buick was much, much more solid of a car. To make matters even worse the vaunted "472" in the Cadillac never had the pop in the bat that the Buick had with its uber legendary "455". That burned my father worse than the loosey, gooseyness of the Cadillac.

Despite my fondness for the Buick and my near loathing of that Cadillac, I find myself searching more for Cadillacs of that vintage than Buicks. What's up with that? Perhaps it's me being somehow sucked into the Cadillac mystique. I can't figure myself out sometimes and it's probably best I spend as little time as possible doing so. 

I found this delightful survivor in Wellington, Ohio a couple of years ago on Craigslist and took her for a spin holding out the vague hope that the wife would approve the purchase order. If she even suggested I get it I would have been cutting a check right there on the spot. It was a fairly bizarre drive down memory lane nonetheless as I waited for the high sign. 

Much to my surprise, this car drove much better than I recall my father's '72 did. For a car this size and as old as it was it felt remarkably well put together. The windshield didn't shake, the 472 felt snappy and it sounded maaaahvelous as well although I'd hardly call this car powerful or fast. In fact, I've driven plenty of much smaller engined Chevrolets of this vintage that felt much more spritely. The variable assist power steering was terrific and helped make this extremely large car somewhat easy to handle. The brakes were good, the ride was delightful. It was comfortable. But it was big. Oh. So big.

That I think is an understatement. This car is terrifyingly large. Gee whiz. I remember driving Dad's and never telling him or anyone just how scared I was driving it. Back then, bigger was better and if you could handle a big car then you were The Man. I wasn't nervous driving this thing that Sunday afternoon but I do remember that feeling of dread that young me had behind the wheel of my father's blue bomb. My biggest concern this sunny Sunday afternoon in the country was running over something and not noticing it. That and running out of gas.

  

By the way, that high sign I was so hoping for from the wife never came. The car was far from perfect too so that probably had something to do with it. That and the fact she hated this car. I didn't push the subject. 

Toyota Corolla FX - The One That Got Away

On the morning of December 29, 1987, I wrecked my beloved Cordoba on icy Sunrise Highway on New York's Long Island. I hold myself perhaps more accountable than I should for the accident. After all, it was I and I alone who purchased used tires for the rear of the car not too long before the crash. I may also have been going a tad too fast for the treacherous conditions that day. The Town of Babylon truck driver gets the rest of the blame.

The only consolation I had at the time was that it was time for me to retire the Ole Montalban Cruiser anyway.

After the accident, I rented a 1987 Toyota Corolla FX to get around in until I got myself another car. The FX was a pleasant looking, generic little wedge on wheels. Nothing to look at, really. But she was a sweetheart with a heart of gold and a desire to do nothing but make me happy. Sharp handling, superb braking. A smooth revving, powerful, fuel efficient engine. Airy, spacious cockpit. Great seats. Lots of storage. Hatchback! In short, quite possibly, a perfect car. Especially for a youngster like myself who had a monstrously long commute.

So, needing a car and despite the fact that I loved the little Toyota what did I buy?

A 1982 Buick Riviera, of course!

The Riviera was an underpowered, ill handling lump of pretentiousness that cost me thousands in expensive repairs. She sure was a looker, though. Especially that leather lined interior. I used to joke that it resembled the inside of a dog's mouth. Let's not overlook the acres of plastic fake wood. Hmmm, classy. Well, at least I know I thought so at the time. Truth is, I still think she's gorgeous but then I quickly sober up and remember everything she put me through.

I had the Riv only two years and in that short period of time I spent more on the car and the repairs on it than a brand new FX would've run me. In a way I'm still detoxing from the constant shock of repair bills for that rolling wreck. Transmission. Brakes. Electronics. Suspension. Cooling system. Air conditioning. Yes. It was that bad. This car was so bad that I swore off buying used cars for almost twenty years.

In fairness, though, I bought the Riviera because I believed it to be "more car" than the simple, appliance like Toyota. Also, I needed to buy a cash car. My insurance was already sky high being that I was only 23 at the time. My insurance carrier dropped me when I wrecked the Cordoba and the only insurance I could get after that was astronomically expensive. To save money I needed something I could insure without collision insurance. Risky, but I really had no choice. Finally, being someone at the time who placed a certain amount of cache on flashy vehicles and the choice, for me, was simple. Wrong, ultimately, but simple.

Would I make the same decision today as I did back then? No. Of course not. I often wonder what it would have been like had I went with the trusty FX instead of the lousy Riviera. Part of me thinks I'd still have that cute little red head with the heart of gold.

The Frieze Update

 

With the completion of the master bathroom vanity renovation, my attention has turned back to my workbench and the Frieze that I want to put at the top of it.  A lovely idea that has taken a seat at the back of the project bus. The toilet/bath area is next to get freshened and I need a larger work area in the garage to not only update mouldings, but to install new shower doors.

My new plans include expansion of the original structure, something that was not in the original expansion plans.  

My original expansion plans were to include a 10 ½ foot long, 22 inch wide adjoining bench along with a second level of storage shelving under that extension. I also planned on adding shelving beneath the original bench. 

My plan now is to expand the entire bench to 33 inches wide with 33 inch wide accompanying lower level storage. Overall expansion will nearly quadruple the size of the workbench.
 
I built the modest, 22 inch wide, 8 foot long original in 2010 with the idea that I would be purchasing a large, vintage automobile that I’d store here in the third bay.  

A large, full size bench would take up considerable room, particularly at the rear of the garage facing the garage doors. Room that a large automobile, say an early 1970s Cadillac at nearly twenty feet long, would need.

We did buy a vintage car, a 1977 Chevrolet Corvette, but we store it in the primary bays of the garage during summer months and off site during the colder weather months.

 

If I can't get work started on it this weekend it may have to wait until after the holidays. When it is completed my work bench will dwarf our kitchen in size and scope.

Bring on The Frieze! 

1966 Lincoln Continental (and Cadillac Fleetwood)

Love Me, Love My Lincoln

Let's fire up our automotive wayback machine and journey back to a time when Ford made a serious attempt to wrestle away buyers from Cadillac. I present, the Lincoln Continental of 1961-1969. In the case of our subject in particular, a 1966.



I'm of a generation that finds it all but impossible to appreciate just how strong Cadillac's grip on the luxury car market was up until the 1980s. While GM has done a great job in the last 10 years or so restoring a lot of image and prestige to the brand, it will never be what it once was. If for no other reason that there are just so many other brands vying for the luxury buyer these days.  

The boneyard off westbound I-90 in Avon, Ohio is still alive and well with rusting, melting, falling apart, cool old cars. Every wreck in here is a gem. I thought for sure that this lot would get cleaned out with the construction of the new interchange less than a half mile south of here. Score. Our Link here is in the middle of the yard next to a '66 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham and it gives me the opportunity to look at both hulks and seriously wonder which one I would have choosen had I been of luxury car buying age and means back then.

If that choice was to be made in a vacuum and I only had a Lincoln Continental and Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham to choose from I'd go for the Lincoln. Imagine, a four door convertible. And  suicide doors. I'm drawn to the Lincoln. Enough to buy one? Yes. The fuddy duddy Cadillac? Let's leave that to the old money.  



A friend of mine who is old enough to remember the good old days when Cadillac was king told me that back then Cadillacs were considered much more prestigious to own than these Continentals.

Based on sales of Cadillacs vs Lincolns back then you'll see that he was right. Then again, I'm not one to bow to convention so I would draw my own conclusions. Lincoln, please.   

Besides. You know what they say about opinions.

Love me, love my Lincoln. 

Pontiac Fiero - Light My Fire

Back in the day this '80s icon got on my oh-so-prestigious short list of cars that I would buy if I had the money. That's right. Right there with Camaros, Trans Ams and Mustang GT's, was the Pontiac Fiero. Let's take a closer lookie at that bastion of rear engine plasticness. 

Despite her fantastic good looks, the plastic bodied, "mid engined" Fiero (the engine was in the middle of the car although most would say she was rear engined) had a troubled youth and struggled through adolescence. Despite those challenges it had growing up, the Fiero bloomed in young adulthood into quite the strong performing sports car. Then it got killed. 

In the dark days of the second gas crisis in the 1970s, GM began baking an economical, two passenger, plastic bodied sports car for Pontiac. This despite the presence of a two passenger, plastic bodied sports car over at Chevrolet. GM believed buyers of what would become known as "Fiero" would be different from those buying the Corvette. 

Right from the get go the Fiero was a looker and I've always been a fan. Especially these fastback GT's. Funny, no matter how old you get the crushes you had when you were younger still work for you. No matter how much you know better now to stay away. Far, far away. Why, hello thar, darlin...

  

To keep costs down, GM used front suspension parts for the Fiero from the Chevrolet Chevette, please note which Chevy Vette I just mentioned, and the rear suspension guts came from the Chevrolet Citation's front suspension. Heh? Yeah. Sturdy enough but not the stuff of high performance motorin'. Not that GM was targeting Mario and Maria Andrettis. Most of the people buying early Fieros were buying it more for the styling and image than anything else. Read that as the target market being young adults who wanted a little flair. Any performance mojo an almost coincidental bonus. 

Driving a Fiero was not without some challenges and sacrifices. Take power steering for instance. Never offered on the Fiero. Ever drive a car without power steering? What at first seems cool and sporty quickly becomes a burden. The car also had a very firm ride. Some would call it jarring. Some would even wonder if the car even had a suspension.

For 1988, Fiero's last year of production, GM sunk $30 million into revising the front suspension to make the car not only perform better but make that non boosted steering somewhat easier to live with.

One little thing put a damper on Fiero's image that no amount of suspension tuning could remedy; engine fires. The engine on 1984 models was prone to oil leaks and that leaking oil could ignite. GM eventually recalled all Fiero's to modify to reduce the chance of fires.

So, what extinguished Fiero? All boiled down to sales. Those being sales lower than expectations, underwhelming projected sales and a fore casted slump in the sales of two passenger cars in the early '90s. Let's not forget about those engine fire recalls.

Too bad. Fiero, you still light my fire.

1980 Buick Regal

1980 Buick Regal alert! Southbound 77 just north of 480.

My dad traded in his 1972 Cadillac Sedan deVille for one of these and regretted it every second that he had it. I was actually quite fairly fond of it. I found it much easier to handle than that block long Caddy. Better on gas too although not as great as Dad thought it was going to be. Now, when, and I kid you not, you're getting THREE miles to the gallon anything is better but Dad thought the little car with a new fangled V-6 (actually not that new fangled) would get better than average 14 miles per gallon. Oh well. These little cars, built between 1978 and 1980 came with a wide variety of GM V-6 and V-8 engines. A 1981 redesign came with exclusive V-6 power. This included a turbo charged V-6 that would ultimately develop into the now legendary Buick Grand National and GNX.

These cars make GREAT hot rods. They're very light at approximately 3200 pounds which is about the same weight as today's Corvette. They have huge engine compartments that can swallow just about anything you want and (the best part!) they're rear wheel drive! Yeah! I've seen these things and the very similar Chevrolet Monte Carlo, Olds Cutlass and Pontiac Grand Prix with everything from a blown in line 4 to a big block Chevy 454 or Buick 455.