In the late 80s, my dad drove a beautiful 1987 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham, dark blue (of course) with the vinyl top. It was a classic beauty, of course, and for those years, the epitome of comfort. It was large, plush, extravagantly comfortable, the sound system was half decent, power everything, the works.
There were, of course, some drawbacks, the main one being that you could never be in a rush when you drove that car. As my dear departed mother used to say, it was a car in which you “made haste slowly”. It was very dignified and very slow, which wasn’t surpising considering the severely underpowered engine it featured: a 5 liter V8 – 305 cubic inches, with something like 145 horsepower. It still drank a lot of gas, though.
In fact, it was so anemic that when you floored it, depending at what speed you were going, it would downshift and actually compress. Lame.
It don’t remember any insane stories about that car, mostly because I did not drive it very often, and anyways it’s not the type of car that lends itself to driving excesses. Also, the handling and breaks were absolutely horrible. Let’s say that making the tires squeal when turning didn’t require going very fast.
I’ve managed to find a picture of what our Cadillac looked like, on the internet. Unfortunately, it is a 1986 model, which is practically identical; it’s difficult to find good pictures online that aren’t completely pimped out, with huge ridiculous wheels and what not.
I will post some pictures of our own car when I find them, scan them, etc. In the meantime, this one will have to do!