Hello, I just joined the forum a few days ago. I don’t own a Caddy, but I grew up with them. I am a car nut and still have a giant soft spot for the old 70’s malaise-era models.
Thought you might like to hear my story about Cadillacs and the big role they played in my life over two decades.
I remember the day my dad bought our very first Caddy. It was an overcast day in May, 1975. I was in the first grade and was heading home from school. When I got off the bus, I saw a gigantic SDV sitting in the driveway. Jennifer blue to be exact, with blue vinyl top and cloth maherajjah (sp?) seats.
Man was it cool!
As a little kid, I always felt like a prince in that car. I remember my dad and I taking it to the car wash on Saturday mornings. He loved to drive it, and drive it slow. And whenever he made a right turn (like into a driveway), he’d first cut the wheel a little bit to the left, just like big-rigs do.
Why did he do that? Because that was what made driving a Cadillac so much damn fun!
I don’t have to tell you guys that the thing was big. I would assume that anybody on this Board that owns a pre-’77 Cadillac also had to clean out your garage so the car would fit with adequate clearance for the garage door.
I remember our ‘75 didn’t hold up very well. After all, it was a malaise-era GM car. After just 3 short years, the left rear quarter panel was showing major signs of rust. Three extra large, arolea-sized (hehehe) blisters appeared between the rub strip and metal, hidden only by Jennifer’s own sky-colored paint. Also, the power steering pump went out rather prematurely. Couldn’t have had more than 36,000 miles on the odo...
Oh well, it was a good excuse for us to trade it in. Dad didn't like to keep cars all that long anyway.
Caddy #2 was a ’78, a champagne colored SDV d’Elegance, with velour seats and the casket-handle door pulls. As a kid I really thought the whole d’Elegance thing was something really special. Maybe it was…but looking back on it now, I realize it was nothing more than a trim job with a padded elk-grain vinyl roof, opera lamps, pillow seats, and the aforementioned caskets, all of which placed the car just a half-step below a FWB. And since the ’77 downsizing, when GM decided to kill the FWB-only D platform (why GM, why!?!?), there really wasn’t any point to buying a FWB anyway.
That’s alright, an SDV “d'E” is still pretty special in my book…even to this day.
But man, that ‘78 was a glutton for punishment. Just six weeks after driving it off the dealer’s lot it was rear-ended. Insurance refused to total the car; instead, the body shop did a half-ass frame straightening job and the car was never the same again. The rear sat too high, and the entire car was a little cockeyed. A new set of tires was needed about every 20k miles because of excessive wear.
The abuse didn’t stop there. The car had me to deal with too.
For starters, I consecrated the car when I puked all over the floor of the back seat. Just couldn’t get the door open in time, ya know?
Then, a few years later, I turned 16. Yep, the car didn’t stand a chance.
Actually I’m grateful that I had the privilege of learning how to drive in our big Cadillac. Driving it was always damn enjoyable experience if you ask me, and it's something I’ll always remember. I loved that fingertip steering and the feel of that hard plastic tiller, the easy throttle tip-in, and the sheer feeling of mass when I hurled it around corners.
Although it didn’t have more than 60-70k miles on the odo at the time, by 1983 it just wasn’t running well. Not sure what the diagnosis was, but some idiot mechanic “solved” the problem by increasing the idle.
Anyway, one day after school I decided to flip the air cleaner lid and take the Cad for a spin around the block. No harm in that, right? Hearing the sound of copious amounts of air being sucked into that big old 4BBL is good for the soul, isn’t it?
Well, yes and no.
The car did eventually recover from my mild hooning, but I’ll never forget pulling into the garage after that and listening to the engine sputter and then diesel to a stop some time after I turned the key off.
Although it was a luxurious car, my dad never liked the ‘78 as much as the ’75. The ’78 just didn’t have the as much cache I guess. And it didn’t ride as smoothly. For me, the one thing that always got under my butt (literally) was the velour pillow-style seats. They’d always pull at my jeans and underwear and give me an instant wedgie. You could always see me fidgeting around in that car and never get comfortable. Or, if I finally ever did, it was only when it was time to get out of the car anyway.
Caddy #3 was a sad ’85 FWD SDV. This one was wine colored with cream leather. Although I was mightily impressed with the level of technology Cadillac added to the SDV line in the 1980s -- unit-body construction, front-wheel drive, digital readouts for the stereo and a/c, and a couple of on-board diagnostic computers -- the car itself certainly wasn’t much to write home about.
It had a plasticky dashboard compared to the older models, and the styling can best be described as…fugly. Torque steer reared its ugly head (but, strangely, only when Iwas behind the wheel!), and the 4.1L – a direct descendant of the 472/500/425 I believe (can anybody here confirm?) was a dog. The upright seating position and thin seats felt funny and the whole car didn’t feel like, well, a Cadillac.
Interestingly, the ’85 still had the traditional Cadillac Emergency Trash-Can in the passenger footwell. Well, what the hell else are you supposed to call it? I always got a kick out of those things. The thought of having a trash can inside your car is funny. What are you going to throw in there, old drumsticks from KFC?
Interestingly, the “least Cadillac” Cadillac proved to be much more reliable than either the ’75 or ’78. With the FI engine and CCC, the car always started on the first try and ran no questions asked. Look out for the el cheapo-GM-beancounter-serpentine belt though, because the day that went, the car just slowly guided over to the shoulder of the road where it sat until the tow truck could take care of things.
My dad’s next Cad was a ’90 Seville. That car was actually pretty ok. It was black with pimptastic maroon colored button-tufted leather. Again, not a real head-turner, but it actually drove decent for a FWD car (if you hadn’t noticed, Ia m not a fan of FWD). And because it was a small car, and with Cadillac increasing the size of the V8 to 4.5L, it actually had decent pickup off the line.
Another very reliable car, the ‘90 went seven years with no real problems to speak of. I thought it was cool because it was my dad’s first Seville, a step up from the SDV line (by 1990 that step had become only theoretical). He proudly affixed his gold “Cadillac IV” badge to the grill, signifying to the world that he was in that exclusive club of Americans who bought alot of new Caddies in their lifetime.
I was also impressed by Cadillac’s attempt to appease foreign luxury car shoppers by adding real wood to the dash and console. I never had a problem with Caddy’s plastiwood, I thought it always looked pretty nice. However, I did get a laugh at how sparingly the real stuff was used in the Seville line. I could imagine the GM beancounters sitting around a table telling the designers to make the wood strips “as thin as possible” in order to shave a couple more dollars off production costs.
Sadly, my Cadillac story ends here. Because my dad hasn’t driven a Cadillac – or any GM car for that matter – in over a decade. He’s had a variety of cars since then, including a Jag and several Chrysler products, and he currently drives a Pacifica. He has no plans to head over to the local Cadillac dealer anytime soon. “They just don’t make anything I like anymore”, he says.
These days, when we get together and reminisce about way back when, his eyes light up at the mere mention of that old Jennifer blue ’75. He loves to tell stories about the way that huge 500 rumbled with authority, just how damn big that car was, and how he even had a blue leisure suit that perfectly matched the car.
Boy, what a great car!
I know he misses it as much as I do.
Thought you might like to hear my story about Cadillacs and the big role they played in my life over two decades.
I remember the day my dad bought our very first Caddy. It was an overcast day in May, 1975. I was in the first grade and was heading home from school. When I got off the bus, I saw a gigantic SDV sitting in the driveway. Jennifer blue to be exact, with blue vinyl top and cloth maherajjah (sp?) seats.
Man was it cool!
As a little kid, I always felt like a prince in that car. I remember my dad and I taking it to the car wash on Saturday mornings. He loved to drive it, and drive it slow. And whenever he made a right turn (like into a driveway), he’d first cut the wheel a little bit to the left, just like big-rigs do.
Why did he do that? Because that was what made driving a Cadillac so much damn fun!
I don’t have to tell you guys that the thing was big. I would assume that anybody on this Board that owns a pre-’77 Cadillac also had to clean out your garage so the car would fit with adequate clearance for the garage door.
I remember our ‘75 didn’t hold up very well. After all, it was a malaise-era GM car. After just 3 short years, the left rear quarter panel was showing major signs of rust. Three extra large, arolea-sized (hehehe) blisters appeared between the rub strip and metal, hidden only by Jennifer’s own sky-colored paint. Also, the power steering pump went out rather prematurely. Couldn’t have had more than 36,000 miles on the odo...
Oh well, it was a good excuse for us to trade it in. Dad didn't like to keep cars all that long anyway.
Caddy #2 was a ’78, a champagne colored SDV d’Elegance, with velour seats and the casket-handle door pulls. As a kid I really thought the whole d’Elegance thing was something really special. Maybe it was…but looking back on it now, I realize it was nothing more than a trim job with a padded elk-grain vinyl roof, opera lamps, pillow seats, and the aforementioned caskets, all of which placed the car just a half-step below a FWB. And since the ’77 downsizing, when GM decided to kill the FWB-only D platform (why GM, why!?!?), there really wasn’t any point to buying a FWB anyway.
That’s alright, an SDV “d'E” is still pretty special in my book…even to this day.
But man, that ‘78 was a glutton for punishment. Just six weeks after driving it off the dealer’s lot it was rear-ended. Insurance refused to total the car; instead, the body shop did a half-ass frame straightening job and the car was never the same again. The rear sat too high, and the entire car was a little cockeyed. A new set of tires was needed about every 20k miles because of excessive wear.
The abuse didn’t stop there. The car had me to deal with too.
For starters, I consecrated the car when I puked all over the floor of the back seat. Just couldn’t get the door open in time, ya know?
Then, a few years later, I turned 16. Yep, the car didn’t stand a chance.
Actually I’m grateful that I had the privilege of learning how to drive in our big Cadillac. Driving it was always damn enjoyable experience if you ask me, and it's something I’ll always remember. I loved that fingertip steering and the feel of that hard plastic tiller, the easy throttle tip-in, and the sheer feeling of mass when I hurled it around corners.
Although it didn’t have more than 60-70k miles on the odo at the time, by 1983 it just wasn’t running well. Not sure what the diagnosis was, but some idiot mechanic “solved” the problem by increasing the idle.
Anyway, one day after school I decided to flip the air cleaner lid and take the Cad for a spin around the block. No harm in that, right? Hearing the sound of copious amounts of air being sucked into that big old 4BBL is good for the soul, isn’t it?
Well, yes and no.
The car did eventually recover from my mild hooning, but I’ll never forget pulling into the garage after that and listening to the engine sputter and then diesel to a stop some time after I turned the key off.
Although it was a luxurious car, my dad never liked the ‘78 as much as the ’75. The ’78 just didn’t have the as much cache I guess. And it didn’t ride as smoothly. For me, the one thing that always got under my butt (literally) was the velour pillow-style seats. They’d always pull at my jeans and underwear and give me an instant wedgie. You could always see me fidgeting around in that car and never get comfortable. Or, if I finally ever did, it was only when it was time to get out of the car anyway.
Caddy #3 was a sad ’85 FWD SDV. This one was wine colored with cream leather. Although I was mightily impressed with the level of technology Cadillac added to the SDV line in the 1980s -- unit-body construction, front-wheel drive, digital readouts for the stereo and a/c, and a couple of on-board diagnostic computers -- the car itself certainly wasn’t much to write home about.
It had a plasticky dashboard compared to the older models, and the styling can best be described as…fugly. Torque steer reared its ugly head (but, strangely, only when Iwas behind the wheel!), and the 4.1L – a direct descendant of the 472/500/425 I believe (can anybody here confirm?) was a dog. The upright seating position and thin seats felt funny and the whole car didn’t feel like, well, a Cadillac.
Interestingly, the ’85 still had the traditional Cadillac Emergency Trash-Can in the passenger footwell. Well, what the hell else are you supposed to call it? I always got a kick out of those things. The thought of having a trash can inside your car is funny. What are you going to throw in there, old drumsticks from KFC?
Interestingly, the “least Cadillac” Cadillac proved to be much more reliable than either the ’75 or ’78. With the FI engine and CCC, the car always started on the first try and ran no questions asked. Look out for the el cheapo-GM-beancounter-serpentine belt though, because the day that went, the car just slowly guided over to the shoulder of the road where it sat until the tow truck could take care of things.
My dad’s next Cad was a ’90 Seville. That car was actually pretty ok. It was black with pimptastic maroon colored button-tufted leather. Again, not a real head-turner, but it actually drove decent for a FWD car (if you hadn’t noticed, Ia m not a fan of FWD). And because it was a small car, and with Cadillac increasing the size of the V8 to 4.5L, it actually had decent pickup off the line.
Another very reliable car, the ‘90 went seven years with no real problems to speak of. I thought it was cool because it was my dad’s first Seville, a step up from the SDV line (by 1990 that step had become only theoretical). He proudly affixed his gold “Cadillac IV” badge to the grill, signifying to the world that he was in that exclusive club of Americans who bought alot of new Caddies in their lifetime.
I was also impressed by Cadillac’s attempt to appease foreign luxury car shoppers by adding real wood to the dash and console. I never had a problem with Caddy’s plastiwood, I thought it always looked pretty nice. However, I did get a laugh at how sparingly the real stuff was used in the Seville line. I could imagine the GM beancounters sitting around a table telling the designers to make the wood strips “as thin as possible” in order to shave a couple more dollars off production costs.
Sadly, my Cadillac story ends here. Because my dad hasn’t driven a Cadillac – or any GM car for that matter – in over a decade. He’s had a variety of cars since then, including a Jag and several Chrysler products, and he currently drives a Pacifica. He has no plans to head over to the local Cadillac dealer anytime soon. “They just don’t make anything I like anymore”, he says.
These days, when we get together and reminisce about way back when, his eyes light up at the mere mention of that old Jennifer blue ’75. He loves to tell stories about the way that huge 500 rumbled with authority, just how damn big that car was, and how he even had a blue leisure suit that perfectly matched the car.
Boy, what a great car!
I know he misses it as much as I do.