Ever since the mid-’70s Eldo convertibles, I have wanted a Cadillac.
I have owned the Bavarians’ stuff. I have roared around in the stuff from Japan and ridden shotgun in the Italian marques’ fleets. But I cut my teeth reading Twain, watching John Wayne movies, and listening to Casey Kasem — in the end for a kid who grew up with J.P. Patches and Brakeman Bill, there is nothing like a juggernaut of American iron.
We picked it up today.