The Cadillac of Crap
It’s Saturday afternoon and I have a few hours to kill. I hop into my truck and head for the local comic shop to pick up my weekly fix of American pop culture. As I’m heading up the street I get caught behind a slow moving vehicle. This is a long road with only one lane for a while, so I have no choice but to look at the car in front of me. I want to start off by saying that it’s a Cadillac. We all know that Cadillac stands for quality, right? Well this car was really a piece of work.
I can tell from the back of the car that we are looking at a Cadillac El Dorado, I see this from the two pristine logos on the trunk of the car. I am fairly certain that these are the only pristine things on the car. I’m guessing the year to be around 1977. The car WAS tan; I know this from the chips of paint still in the corners by the molding. The rest of the paint had been eaten away by rust. Not just simple rust, but rust that turns liquid in the rain and stains the windows of the car. Since I was still behind him I noticed that the trunk was open, but the lid stayed down because of the weight. Obviously the locking mechanism had given way a long time prior. Oh, and just to finish up the back of the car, you guessed it, both taillights were busted.
As the road expanded to a second lane, I was able to pull up along side the Caddy and look inside. The interior had more cracks and wrinkles then Charlton Heston in a tanning bed. There was no dashboard. I don’t mean that part of it was missing or anything like that, I mean that it was completely gone. Instead the owner had taken two gauges of some sort and attached them by coat hanger off of the empty area. I can only assume these gauges were telling him fuel and speed… or maybe it was counting down the days this car had left on the road. As I pulled next to the car at a stoplight, the single most amazing thing happened. The passenger side window rolled down… by itself… electronically. The automatic window control was still working. From every old car I’ve seen at the Carl’s Jr. drive thru with the owner opening the door and snaking his hand around to get his order, I assumed that the window motors were the first thing to go. But on this amazing Cadillac, it was still in good working condition.
As I sat next to this piece of American engineering, I could hear the lifters under the hood. I never understood why they called them lifters until now… for it seemed that they were trying to lift the hood off of the car. Now the hood itself was interesting, here on this formally tan, now rust covered car was a bright blue hood. I don’t know about you, but I started thinking that hood wasn't original equipment. As I pulled away from the signal, I got ahead enough that I could see that all of the front lights were broken as well. At least it was consistent.
I was about to turn my attention back to the road in front of me when I noticed a Highway Patrol car pull up next to the Cadillac. I could make out the look on the officers face as he was mentally noting the same details I had (though he might have missed the automatic window since it was already down). From there I saw the officer drop his head and shake it slightly side to side. I feel that he was sharing that moment of disbelief that I had felt. He then took a deep breath, locked his gaze forward and drove past. He must have come to the same conclusion I did: that all of the damage had to be cosmetic only, because we all know that Cadillac means quality.
It’s Saturday afternoon and I have a few hours to kill. I hop into my truck and head for the local comic shop to pick up my weekly fix of American pop culture. As I’m heading up the street I get caught behind a slow moving vehicle. This is a long road with only one lane for a while, so I have no choice but to look at the car in front of me. I want to start off by saying that it’s a Cadillac. We all know that Cadillac stands for quality, right? Well this car was really a piece of work.
I can tell from the back of the car that we are looking at a Cadillac El Dorado, I see this from the two pristine logos on the trunk of the car. I am fairly certain that these are the only pristine things on the car. I’m guessing the year to be around 1977. The car WAS tan; I know this from the chips of paint still in the corners by the molding. The rest of the paint had been eaten away by rust. Not just simple rust, but rust that turns liquid in the rain and stains the windows of the car. Since I was still behind him I noticed that the trunk was open, but the lid stayed down because of the weight. Obviously the locking mechanism had given way a long time prior. Oh, and just to finish up the back of the car, you guessed it, both taillights were busted.
As the road expanded to a second lane, I was able to pull up along side the Caddy and look inside. The interior had more cracks and wrinkles then Charlton Heston in a tanning bed. There was no dashboard. I don’t mean that part of it was missing or anything like that, I mean that it was completely gone. Instead the owner had taken two gauges of some sort and attached them by coat hanger off of the empty area. I can only assume these gauges were telling him fuel and speed… or maybe it was counting down the days this car had left on the road. As I pulled next to the car at a stoplight, the single most amazing thing happened. The passenger side window rolled down… by itself… electronically. The automatic window control was still working. From every old car I’ve seen at the Carl’s Jr. drive thru with the owner opening the door and snaking his hand around to get his order, I assumed that the window motors were the first thing to go. But on this amazing Cadillac, it was still in good working condition.
As I sat next to this piece of American engineering, I could hear the lifters under the hood. I never understood why they called them lifters until now… for it seemed that they were trying to lift the hood off of the car. Now the hood itself was interesting, here on this formally tan, now rust covered car was a bright blue hood. I don’t know about you, but I started thinking that hood wasn't original equipment. As I pulled away from the signal, I got ahead enough that I could see that all of the front lights were broken as well. At least it was consistent.
I was about to turn my attention back to the road in front of me when I noticed a Highway Patrol car pull up next to the Cadillac. I could make out the look on the officers face as he was mentally noting the same details I had (though he might have missed the automatic window since it was already down). From there I saw the officer drop his head and shake it slightly side to side. I feel that he was sharing that moment of disbelief that I had felt. He then took a deep breath, locked his gaze forward and drove past. He must have come to the same conclusion I did: that all of the damage had to be cosmetic only, because we all know that Cadillac means quality.
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