There’s something about the suicide-door Contis that always stirs something in me. It’s the anti-Cadillac, with its huge flat clean flanks, no fins, suicide doors, and all-round different proportions. And a unibody, to boot. It was the last time an American luxury car would be so different from the competition, with such an immediate presence and unmistakable image. I called it “The Last Great American Luxury Car” and my feelings haven’t changed, although one could rightfully say that the Tesla Model S picked up that baton laying in the gutter.
One can debate the pros and cons of the various grilles on these Contis, but ultimately it’s largely irrelevant; from today’s vantage point, they’re all terrific, with the possible exception of the ’69.
What’s under the hood is a mystery, as the early ’68s had the last of the MEL 462 V8s, and the late ’68s had the new 460 V8. Obviously the newer one was better in every objective measure, but the 462 is a piece of history. A mighty big one, at that.
A great shot of the interior, thanks to rolled-down windows. Tha California sun has inflicted a bit of damage, as has the driver’s butt. The instrument panel had to be toned down to meet the new 1967 safety regs, but it’s still a fairly impressive piece of sculpture and texture.
This is of course one of the key hallmarks of the genre.
I can hear it now…