They were simple times. At least that’s the way they seem, now that they’re gone. They probably weren’t simple for those called upon to live them, but let’s agree, shall we, they were simple times. The war was over, prosperity lay like a ribboned highway curving endlessly into the future, men were men, women were women, and Cadillac was luxury. Cadillacs had traversed America’s roads since the dawn of the Twentieth Century, of course, but it was only postwar that they emerged, tail-finned and gunned by humongous V8s, as the pinnacle of American luxury. It was a vision of luxury very long on car and very soft on seat.
Oh, but things change.
A gas crisis gripped the nation. Cars lined up for miles, desperate for re-fuel. And in response, Cadillacs shortened. They went from being gas mass murderers to simply being gas guzzlers, measurable now in miles per gallon rather than gallons per mile.
Oh, but things change.
The 1970s became the 1980s, and a new, more suave notion of automotive luxury took hold. Ocean liner automobiles with miles of Crushed Corinthian Leather suddenly ceased being the epitome of luxury. High performance engines and precision European driving machines were. It was a rethink that catapulted an obscure, spartan little Bavarian soap-bar of a vehicle called BMW into the pantheon of ultimate driving-ness. And it relegated Cadillac to oblivion, an 8-cylinder ghost shadow-boxing in a Crushed Corinthian Palookaville.
Oh, but things change.
An American archetype re-emerged, re-born into a land of malls and suburban streets from sea to shining sea. It was the archetype of the rugged American individual navigating a hostile wilderness in his covered wagon. Cars began to disappear, and in their place came….trucks. Trucks which euphemistically came to be called Sport Utility Vehicles, and euphonically called SUVs. They were suddenly everywhere, massive and indestructible, off-road behemoths safely navigating the hostile wilderness as they pulled up to Starbucks.
Cadillac saw its chance, and in 1999, the Escalade was introduced. Of course, it was based originally on the rather prosaic GMC Yukon Denali, so they had to reconfigure and re-fashion it for Cadillac, and in the process, the luxury SUV was born. The Cadillac of SUVs. It is ironic that by fashioning a truck, Cadillac reclaimed its mantle of luxury, but such is life when you don’t live in simple times. Cadillac scored, and the rappers agreed. They drove Escalades down angry city streets, testing eardrums with sub-woofers and door panels with bullet holes. Even Madonna drives an Escalade to the Torah reading.
Oh, but things change.
The climate is askew, and the planet is threatened. The ravages of petroleum engines on our atmosphere and petroleum countries on our security has changed the vision of automotive luxury yet again. And Cadillac, having had its taste of Palookaville and found it wanting, is ready. Today, the cover of the august Wall Street Journal carried an ad for the new Cadillac Escalade, which proclaimed: “The world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV.”
In the sheet metal of Cadillac, we read the tortured story of automotive luxury buffeted into contortions by the onrush of history. The mile-long luxury gas guzzler becomes the short luxury gas guzzler becomes the humongous luxury truck becomes “The world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV”: the world’s first truck that’s also luxurious that’s also humongous that also energy conscious, shedding some of its petroleum to make the planet a better place for our children and our grandchildren.
Oh, but things change, this column predicts.
Soon, the world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV will go back to its fins. But this time, the Cadillac fins will actually have jet packs in them, for flight not merely along the highways but into the skies and beyond, Cadillac luxury taking us into forever.
And they will be hybrid jet packs, of course.
Oh, but things change.
A gas crisis gripped the nation. Cars lined up for miles, desperate for re-fuel. And in response, Cadillacs shortened. They went from being gas mass murderers to simply being gas guzzlers, measurable now in miles per gallon rather than gallons per mile.
Oh, but things change.
The 1970s became the 1980s, and a new, more suave notion of automotive luxury took hold. Ocean liner automobiles with miles of Crushed Corinthian Leather suddenly ceased being the epitome of luxury. High performance engines and precision European driving machines were. It was a rethink that catapulted an obscure, spartan little Bavarian soap-bar of a vehicle called BMW into the pantheon of ultimate driving-ness. And it relegated Cadillac to oblivion, an 8-cylinder ghost shadow-boxing in a Crushed Corinthian Palookaville.
Oh, but things change.
An American archetype re-emerged, re-born into a land of malls and suburban streets from sea to shining sea. It was the archetype of the rugged American individual navigating a hostile wilderness in his covered wagon. Cars began to disappear, and in their place came….trucks. Trucks which euphemistically came to be called Sport Utility Vehicles, and euphonically called SUVs. They were suddenly everywhere, massive and indestructible, off-road behemoths safely navigating the hostile wilderness as they pulled up to Starbucks.
Cadillac saw its chance, and in 1999, the Escalade was introduced. Of course, it was based originally on the rather prosaic GMC Yukon Denali, so they had to reconfigure and re-fashion it for Cadillac, and in the process, the luxury SUV was born. The Cadillac of SUVs. It is ironic that by fashioning a truck, Cadillac reclaimed its mantle of luxury, but such is life when you don’t live in simple times. Cadillac scored, and the rappers agreed. They drove Escalades down angry city streets, testing eardrums with sub-woofers and door panels with bullet holes. Even Madonna drives an Escalade to the Torah reading.
Oh, but things change.
The climate is askew, and the planet is threatened. The ravages of petroleum engines on our atmosphere and petroleum countries on our security has changed the vision of automotive luxury yet again. And Cadillac, having had its taste of Palookaville and found it wanting, is ready. Today, the cover of the august Wall Street Journal carried an ad for the new Cadillac Escalade, which proclaimed: “The world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV.”
In the sheet metal of Cadillac, we read the tortured story of automotive luxury buffeted into contortions by the onrush of history. The mile-long luxury gas guzzler becomes the short luxury gas guzzler becomes the humongous luxury truck becomes “The world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV”: the world’s first truck that’s also luxurious that’s also humongous that also energy conscious, shedding some of its petroleum to make the planet a better place for our children and our grandchildren.
Oh, but things change, this column predicts.
Soon, the world’s first full size luxury hybrid SUV will go back to its fins. But this time, the Cadillac fins will actually have jet packs in them, for flight not merely along the highways but into the skies and beyond, Cadillac luxury taking us into forever.
And they will be hybrid jet packs, of course.