This is the 1966 Cadillac Fleetwood Eldorado convertible. [Ed.: as if there is a difference from a Coupe de Ville] I had a chance at buying one [ed.: a ’65 or ’66 de Ville convertible] in high school. Dad said no, even at just $275. The convoluted start up process scared him. (It was a piece of crap, after all.) The 429 V8 under my right foot terrified him. The 10 mpg scared his wallet, in case I ever got stranded.
The bumpers are horrible, but not as bad as the tumors you would find on an 80s Countach. The air damn seems to be just that – you can see the front tires through the slats. The blocked off grille? I think I’d rather have the misaligned mesh. Still, the only thing I don’t like is the name. “Oscar India” makes me think this is a salute to the former reaches of the Empire. Nope.
“Oscar India” was just the internal code for the car, to throw people off the scent. Or maybe it did stand for the line’s October introduction. Or it was just a coincidence drawn from the last two registration letters of a Cessna 152.
Regardless, it is one of those names that would work for Nic Cage if he weren’t so into Ferraris.
Champagne would fall from the heavens. Doors would open. Velvet ropes would part. – Memphis Raines
Imagine you were creating a GT from scratch, out of one solid billet of aluminum. That’s this car, the Aston Martin V8. You won’t find crumple zones or insurance dictated modules to swap out. Look at this thing They only cut it for doors and
hood bonnet and trunk boot and gas petrol tank fillers. Inside you’re surrounded by creamy mashed potato-colored leather seats with red piping. You’re a London gentleman blasting up to the highlands for a weekend of scotch and kilt lifting. You can even fit real humans in the back to join you and your Italian confidential secretary…
If you’re a cruel bastard.
Not unlike Mustangs, the AM designed the rear seats as if they might sometimes carry actual people with legs, not simply picnic baskets or little yippie dogs. Just don’t try it on an 8-hour* jaunt on a Friday.
*Only 8, because you’ll, uh, need to “clear out the Webers.”
But this outward style and underhood power and the buttery carriage in the veal cutlet of leather seats is the glory. Much like Joan Collins, this car does best in soft focus. With a little distance or some judicious aperture and it’s sexy as hell. Look at the grill. The mesh material is straight out of Home Depot. That origin story the one part that is actually straight. Otherwise, it looks like some of the artwork from a 10th grade geometry proof.
at least according to Car and Driver magazine back in the day. (We’re searching for the reference- it was NOT the April ’80 issue.) It wasn’t bad enough that the cars were sapped of all power due to hamhanded efforts* to meet EPA numbers.
*who doesn’t remember fondly the belt drive air pumps? How to decrease particulates per volume of air? Make less soot or better yet, add more air! PHYSICS!
The flipside of the equation is how to get the most go per pound and per dollar. Why use a THM400 – a bulletproof transmission if there ever was one – when a THM 200 will fit. Three speeds is three speeds, right? In the later second generation Camaros, the idea seemed to be “if the speed limit is 55 mph, why give it cooling for 120?”
Just add tape and some fake scoops! – Roger in marketing.
After hair and makeup. You may remember the bed head version that strafed Tempe a couple of years ago.
Sometimes, size doesn’t matter.* Sometimes, all your smart car technology is no match for a couple of pieces of Reynolds wrap for fenders and some rubber bands for power. Siometimes, you jam it into spots that are just too tight. No problem. Just bounce it right back out.
The Barrett-Jackson description hardly does it justice. The best $5700 bid you’ll ever make. It’s what the cool people drive for 100+ mph blasts to the beach. The way back doubles as your hotel.
Just watch out for stray dogs crossing your path late at night. The car “corners like it’s on rails,” in the sense that it is as nimble and responsive as a boxcar, Willie.