As I sit down to write this, it has been exactly one week since I had taken these pictures on the first full day of my annual Las Vegas trip with friends. I’m mostly caught back up with the two-hour time change between there and Chicago, and coffee helped the rest of the time. It was a more abbreviated vacation than in years past, with basically just seventy-two hours to visit with everyone and see the city, but the fact that it was a smaller, more “compact” trip somehow seemed to make it more special. It was like the “Ghia” of extended weekends – little, but luxurious.
Many of us have been given some kind of issue or “thorn in the flesh” to deal with, and I’ve made reference to some of mine in previous essays. Gambling, however, is not one of them. I can hit it, quit it, and move on. I can play for just a little while, not wager any more than I feel I could stand to lose without beating myself up, and be done. The friends with whom I go on these trips all seem to have excellent working knowledge of their favorite sports teams and the vast array of games to play. One of my assignments from last year was to study up on craps, but no one seemed to mind that I hadn’t, and that I was just enjoying standing with them and watching at their tables. “Sevens bad, except on the first roll” seems to be the one heuristic that has stuck with me.
At the Downtown Grand Hotel & Casino.
My favorite is video poker. There are many things I like about it, including the fact that it requires actual thought process and also that there seem to be rules-of-thumb that have worked well enough for me, all mixed in with the luck of the electronic draw. Said thought process was once trickier for me to maintain during a given afternoon before I chose sobriety, but it is still so fun just to sit up there at the bar in a row with my friends, all of us with video poker machines in front of us and sports on TV screens above, as we all sip on our beverages of choice, game, crack each other up, commiserate with our losses, and celebrate our wins. The Sunday afternoon of these photos found us at the Downtown Grand Hotel & Casino, where Hugo took great care of us.
I give myself a small but reasonable gambling allowance, and once it’s gone, it’s gone. I had put a twenty into my machine, which lasted literally for almost an hour before I went bust. My kitty was up and down, up and down (like the hydraulics on this ’83 Cutlass) before my frustration got the better of me and I just started making stupid bets on unlikely combinations. It was only after my friend Lauren left me a five in her adjacent machine to go play craps that I eventually hit a straight flush and cashed out immediately.
Even after trying to pay Lauren her five back (which she adamantly refused), I would have netted two dollars at the DTG that day. A win is a win, even if the coin slots at the California voraciously ate up twenty dollars worth of my quarters with impunity. My net gambling losses amounted to maybe twenty dollars for the entire weekend, but I won the experience of sharing this time with friends and had an absolute blast.
I was walking with other friends from Flint who happened to be in town the same weekend when this Cutlass happened by. It’s almost like three Flint people being in the same place away from Genesee County, Michigan manifested this car into existence to pass beside of us as we walked around East Fremont Street. Oldsmobile’s Cutlass, paralleling my experiences with gambling that day, also had an up-and-down trajectory which included a meteoric ascent in popularity in the late ’70s, followed by a decline, one more rally for ’84, and then a slide on down until the overall Cutlass name eventually fizzled out following the exit of the nondescript ’99 “Cut-libu”.
Since there were so many Cutlasses and permutations available at some point due to the popularity of what had basically become an Oldsmobile sub-brand, I’ll focus on just two versions of any rear-drive Cutlass Supreme (including the Supreme Brougham). Just look at the following table, with its production figures that have almost as many peaks and valleys as the Big Apple Coaster at New York, New York Hotel & Casino at the southern end of The Strip.
| Model Year | Production |
|---|---|
| 1973 | 219,900 |
| 1974 | 172,400 |
| 1975 | 150,900 |
| 1976 | 278,000 |
| 1977 | 367,600 |
| 1978 | 358,800 |
| 1979 | 415,300 |
| 1980 | 247,500 |
| 1981 | 281,700 |
| 1982 | 149,000 |
| 1983 | 168,000 |
| 1984 | 220,100 |
| 1985 | 133,900 |
| 1986 | 134,900 |
| 1987 | 75,000 |
| 1988 | 27,700 |
What’s interesting is that the combined production total of the Supreme and Supreme Brougham peaked in ’79, even if overall Cutlass sales had crested in ’77 with just under 632,800 units. The ’88 model year was also when the front-drive GM-10 Cutlass Supreme coupe arrived, with roughly 94,700 units sold alongside what was known as the “Cutlass Supreme Classic” in its last season.
The Cutlass coupes are part of that rare group of cars of the ’80s whose model years are somewhat easier to identify than other models of that time based on annual detail changes. Judging by the combination of grille texture and taillamp lenses, this one looks to be an ’83. These came standard with a 3.8L V6 with 110 horsepower, but with a 140-horse 307 V8 available (along with a pair of diesels). I’ll guess that this one has the 307, as I’ve read in comments in previous CC posts how slow (but comfortable) these were with the six. This one was a 3,400-pound car from the factory, before any modifications. No one was going to put a V6 example on hydraulics, or leave the 3.8 in there.
Las Vegas is very much about the spectacle, and this bouncy Cutlass with California plates fit right in. Let there be fun, shows, games, and car culture for everyone. I live for diversity. I may be introverted much of the time, but strangely enough, not when I’m in Las Vegas. It seems to be a place where it’s actually the norm to express oneself more freely even if outside of what’s considered the mainstream. The Cutlass Supreme coupe, as part of the old guard of popular personal luxury coupes, may also be likened to many of the downtown casinos which have endured (unlike many historic properties south on The Strip which have been imploded and replaced), albeit with modern twists and amenities. Like a Cutlass on hydraulics.
Downtown Las Vegas, Nevada.
Sunday, October 1, 2023.
Brochure photos were sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.
It’s funny, I never thought about my 1980 Oldsmobile Cutlass Salon Diesel until after reading this. After owning the Cutlass for 6 months I found out that the Oldsmobile Diesel engine had a life expectancy of 60,000 miles! At that time, I had 15,000 miles on the engine. So I put my thinking cap on. I changed the oil every month, I averaged 3,000 mile a month going to and from work. At 85,000 miles, a gentleman I knew that had a road service with the Chevy pickups with the 5.7 Diesel told me about the rod that drives the oil pump has been failing. As a result the oil pump would fail and destroyed the engine. I purchased this harden steel hex rod. At 100,000 miles a head bolt broke, so I removed the heads and replaced all new head bolts. In doing so I got another 85,000 miles on the engine. My Nephew want the car badly! I explained not to go from zero to sixty as fast as it could, or you’re going to blow up the crankshaft. Naturally he didn’t listen and blew up the engine. During the 6 years I owned the car I did some major work on the engine replacing the head bolts, the hardened steel rod that drives the oil pump, and one injector pump. The car still look new! The AC still worked, I never had any trouble with the transmission or the rest of the drive train. My Oldsmobile Diesel engine went 196,000 miles before my Nephew blew it up. I’m very proud of myself for that. All the work done to the engine, I did my self because that’s what I did for a living. I worked in the big trucks. My Mom, Nieces, and Nephews with my Oldsmobile in background. The motor oil I used was CHEVRON DELO 400 Straight 30W oil
I like so much that you had the know-how to basically reengineer your Diesel to get such longevity out of it. (Did you forgive your nephew for blowing it up after he didn’t listen?)
I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like to see the picture you had tried to post earlier. A resize should do it. Has happened to me occasionally when I’ve tried to include a picture with a comment.
1981, My Mom, Nieces, Nephews, with my Oldsmobile Diesel in the background.
In order to attach pictures, they have to be reduced in size, like down to 1200 pixels width or so.
My brush with the sharp end of a Cutless was a very brief and odd episode attached to the gamble of home ownership. I had a house that I could little afford for nearly 25 years, possessed only through the device of renting out 2 of the 3 furnished bedrooms.. As a bartender, my social circle was mainly other bartenders and bar patrons. The latter provided me with ready numbers of diverse but sketchy tenants. One guy who was in and out of employment ended up leaving a dead ’80 Cutlass Brougham in my driveway for his last month’s rent. He’d also come into possession of the car as tender for a debt, and it never left the property, as the battery wouldn’t hold a charge.
It was an “olds” and forlorn beast, with mostly flat tires, dull paint that had shed its color coat in great sheets, and a mildewed interior below a drooping headliner.
I set about to gamble on the car’s possible utility. A new battery brought it to a semblance of life, the headliner was ripped out, and I unwisely decided to mask it off and take it to Earl Schieb for a $250 paint job. Money not well spent, as a rod bearing sound appeared immediately and got progressively louder. Then, I banged into the back end of a girlfriend’s ’87 Land Cruiser and had to purchase her a new rear bumper.
I decided to fold my cards, and drove the Olds to a u-pullit junk yard 150 miles away that had supplied parts for my series of derelict vehicles, where I exchanged it for $75.
The Cutlass didn’t die, though. Months after I betrayed it, I went back to the recycler on a parts run, only to catch a glimpse of the car merrily traversing the distant void between two rows of junkers: It had lived on as the business’ yard car.
The zombie Cutlass.
Thankfully none of my tenants have paid rent this way. I did score a really nice ’90 Corolla sedan that a tenant had given up on; all it needed was some fluid in the hydraulic clutch master cylinder. He thought the clutch had died. My son’s GF drove it for a while and then I sold it for cheap to a guy that was working for me building a house. It’s probably still driving around somewhere.
I liked your metaphors – well-played. That ’80 Cutlass sounds nasty, but I’m glad it had successfully served some useful purposes.
Joe you were in Las Vegas at the same time as a coworker and you were in the same parts of town. Such a small world at times.
Visually, these are one of the most successful refreshes ever. While the sales numbers surprise me some (which surprises me as these were seemingly everywhere for a long time) they were certainly popular; the ’78 to ’80 models seem to have vanished long ago. Perhaps the long run of these with such little change helps. Doing research for an article long ago I determined Cutlass Supreme output from some year in the early 1980s equalled the entirety of GMC production that same year. That certainly puts some perspective on the popularity of these.
Weren’t these also the most stolen car in the US for a number of years?
Yes, in the early-to-mid ’90’s the Cutlass was the most stolen car in the country for a few years. It has to do with parts commonality, apparently, as there were so many items that could be harvested from these for just about anything else GM had produced for a stretch.
I was in California in the later 90s and borrowed my grandmother’s Olds Cutlass to go visit my Aunt and Uncle, staying overnight. When I went out in the morning it had been stolen.
It really is such a small world, Jason. Additionally, I had no idea in advance of my arrival that my two friends from Flint, Tim & Christina, were going to be there that same weekend.
I also remember reading that theft statistic about these Cutlasses. The explanations below make total sense, with parts interchangeability, etc.
I like the ’81 restyle now, but had really liked the 1978 – ’80 models, with a slight preference for the ’79 with the dual beams and removal of the Olds “rocket” from the taillamps bezels, which looked cleaner.
I never got the point of raising the front of a car like this. I know I’m an old guy, but still…..
I recognize that extremely unique color; Light Rosewood metallic. If that’s original, our feature car would be from 1982, as it was a one year only offering (The grill looks to be a custom affair, lacking the inset horizontal bars as seen on the 1983’s). Grandma’s ‘82 Pontiac 6000 LE coupe was this color, paired with “Redwood” interior (!).
This looks like the proper ’83 grille to me, in combination with the taillamps. If I had to guess whether the grille or the paint was original, I’d guess the grille only because the paint looked too beautiful and shiny to be original to the car. It is an attractive shade.
Thanks for visiting again, Joe. I’m glad the Cutlass had CA plates, so you don’t blame it on us. Downtown is the place to be. There’s a big car race coming to The Strip next month, and it’s ruining everything.
Thanks, Evan. I always enjoy visiting your city. I did have a chance to ride the Deuce bus from downtown to the Strip (several times), and the Grand Prix had grandstands being put in all kids of places, including where the fountains at Bellagio normally are. It was all a bit jarring, but removed from what it’s like to live there during this event, it did look like something memorable is about to happen.
Me? I’d be content with watching the race in “Viva Las Vegas” again.
The point of raising the car is to show that it has lifts. Back in the day, hydraulics were used, now most lowered custom vehicles use air bags. I think hydraulics are still used on some Lowriders because they can rise and fall quickly, getting the car to bounce. I knew lots of guys that were into the Lowrider scene back in the 70’s, but I never cared for the hydraulics and small tires. I like static lowered cars with a “California rake” and performance wheels and tires, the traditional hot rod look. These Cutlasses seem to be more common than their Monte Carlo brethren around the Bay Area. I think all of GM’s personal luxury coupes of this period were very attractive, not particularly fast, but plenty good looking. You had your choice of coupes from all of the domestic manufacturers. Lowriders are all about cruising, besides, wasn’t the speed limit 55 mph. at the time?
Jose, thanks for this. I honestly hadn’t thought of different means of raising the vehicles (i.e. air bags, as you mentioned, versus actual hydraulics, like I had assumed was the case here).
I agree with you that the GM G-Body coupes of this era were very good looking cars. In my mind right now, I’m thinking I’d be a Pontiac Grand Prix SE man with two-tone paint and t-tops.
Good story as usual, Joseph.
My last Vegas casino experience differed from yours somewhat. Our 18-month daughter had barfed her breakfast all over herself and the carseat somewhere near Saint George Utah and–car reeking despite a pit stop to clean what we could–we roll into a casino well south of The Strip for an overnight stop on the way West. Because an inlaw with his own small kids recommended it, you see. The bing-bong smokey chaos was not a welcome site for us at that point, nor was the 30 minute line to check in, nor was the discovery that we were issued key cards for an occupied room.
Spent twenty bucks for an hour of gambling, you say? I’d have gladly given someone, anyone, twenty bucks to not have to spend an hour wringing out the foul car seat liner in the hotel bathtub. That malignant odor stayed with us as a faint spectre the rest of the trip.
Oh, wow! That sounds like it was quite the ordeal. A bottle of Febreze can do only so much. This I know.
Interesting to read. To each their own with the hydraulic up-down thing. One of the great things about the automotive hobby is that there’s something for everyone.
I’ve posted photos before, but here’s a pic of our 1985 Cutlass Supreme from a different perspective. It’s been in our family since new, and is original except tires and a few things like tune-up parts. It has the 307 V8 and runs very well.
Very common cars at one time (interesting to see those production figures). We get a lot of comments from people who either owned one or knew someone who did.
Nice Cutlass.
The older I get, the more insights I get into life, and often I find the less able I am to express them in a tactful and meaningful way. But I try, sometimes. For better or worse, so much of our character is formed during childhood, whether society allows us to embrace it or wants us to escape it.
I never got the whole gambling thing. Major kudos to you, Joseph, for bring able to stick to your limit. Serious admiration. We didn’t have poker machines here in those years, for which I’m so thankful. Dad was a gambler on the horses, and several times tried to borrow money from me for a ‘sure thing’, but I’d seen him lose too many times to be sucked in. Oh there was always food on the table – basic, now that I think about it, but there – and Dad had a deal with the landlord that got us cheap rent in return for looking after the property. Mowing, watering and hedge trimming, which now that I think about it I wound up doing.
I also don’t get the raised-front look. Oh I know it’s part of the lowrider thing, which is (regional?) American culture, and there’s no doubting the craftsmanship some of these cars exhibit, but I don’t understand driving along with your nose in the air, either yours or the car’s. Mentally I transpose myself into the driver’s seat, and look out over that hood, and am immediately struck by how that would limit your forward vision. I like to see where I’m going. While I totally get the appeal of a car sitting low, I just don’t get this. Like some modern art, I guess. Inscrutable.
Now, where were we? Cutlass, yes. Got one of them. This was a 442 kit that I converted to a mainstream Cutlass Supreme.
When I saw your picture here, I thought “Where did he find a regular Cutlass Supreme model?” and then I read that you “mainstreamed” a 442. I love it! That maroon color was extremely popular in the for mid-80s Oldsmobiles. I can’t quite place the origin of the wheelcovers, though – at first I thought Mustang, but now I’m not so sure.
I also was never interested in gambling, which I probably shouldn’t complain about. I visited a casino once when I was in my 20s, but didn’t enjoy it at all… just not my thing. Ironically, there was only one time in my life that I got an unsolicited job offer, and it was from a firm that did research for the gambling industry. I turned the job down because it wasn’t something I could see myself doing, but I often think of the irony. Life’s funny sometimes.
Thaks Eric. Mainstreaming cars is one thing that especially appeals to me. Long story, but I’ll save it for its own post some time.
IIRC those caps came from a ’73 Cougar.
I very much appreciate your perspectives, Peter. Tact is easier for me on some days than others, though I do think there’s some correlation with age, as I have also watched my own filter erode with time. I may be a little bit blunt at times, but (almost) never out of malice. Sometimes, I just choose to skip responding in any way and keep it moving. It has probably saved me from at least a few pointless arguments.
As for the rake, I love a sports car feel, looking down over a downward-sloping hood, but that’s just what I like.
And like Eric mentioned above, I love that you “built down” this model to look like something that I would have seen (by the dozens) on the streets of Flint, Michigan when I was growing up.
These Cutlasses are like Vegas to me. I can understand visiting, but not making a life there – for both the Cutlass and the Vegas.
Actually, I have never visited Vegas, but did rent a Cutlass once when I was out of state on business. It was a good experience, but I don’t know that I would have loved it over a long time.
My sister’s ’79 Cutlass was what pushed her to Japanese cars, Toyota, Nissan, and Mazda. It replaced her also awful ’73 Cutlass that, along with being an awful new penny color, had electrical and carb issues from day one that never ended. As usual, when it came to pick a color, she went from bad to almost as bad, as it was turd brown over medium brown that she drove home with. By the time I saw it in ’85, it was in it’s final days, just having another alternator and battery put into it. It needed something done every spring, summer, and fall. Winters it seemed to be fine with. It had a duct taped together steering wheel that oozed adhesive when it was even slightly warm. Oh, she lived in S. Carolina, so it was warm a lot. It had the mighty 3.8 and at about 85K, it ran ok, but leaked oil from the valve covers constantly. I don’t remember what Nissan replaced the Cutlass in ’86, but it was only a little better than it was, and got pasted by a drunk in a Dodge Power Wagon while parked in their apartment complex. It was replaced with a Camry, which was by far the most trouble free car she has ever had, but it made a few winter trips up north and got pretty rusty by the 8 year mark. The replacement 1996? Camry was a joke, it was worse than the ’73 Cutlass and ended up being traded at two years for the first Mazda, never saw it but she loved it. She had both Nissans and Mazdas until she bought an early Prius and she just last summer bought another one. Both in (for her) a good color, silver. Anyone else, I would say silver is boring, but for her, silver is pretty great.