Our neighborhood is blessed with alleys, although almost all houses in it have driveways from the street. Some are overgrown (but still walkable), others kept open for cars, because there are some alley-access houses, and a few folks keep garages or sheds there. They make a wonderful network of walking paths, and this one leads straight to our house, two blocks up. We were just heading home the other night, when this fine barge deVille comes rolling along. And then he suddenly stopped, as if to give me a chance to whip out my camera and get a nice profile shot. How did he know?
Aha; he cranks it hard left, and oozes slowly up the narrow alley, but not before giving us a thumbs up. It’s not every day a big Caddy ragtop heads up there, but I assume he had a reason to. I’m not going to give him a thumbs up on those chintzy wheel covers, but maybe his got stolen, or something.
It’s kind of like watching a yacht pull into a slip in the harbor, with the burble of a big V8 to add to the effect.
Oops; out of focus.
There’s an alley house half way up that block, so he must have come visiting. Which didn’t leave much room for us to get by, but that’s ok. Which is more than I can say for the quality of Cadillac interiors of this vintage. I didn’t need to look very closely at this one, but I did sit in a ’70 coupe recently, and I’d forgotten how cheap the vinyl and upholstery on the seats is. As well as most everything else. Maybe it got worse since ’67? We’ll save that for another day, since convertibles get a pass, right? Especially a big Cadillac. And white, no less.
All is forgiven, from a safe distance. Mustn’t speak ill about such an icon.