Cadillac DeVille. It's a name that takes me back to another age, when gas was two bits a gallon, chrome was measured by the yard, Elvis was wailing "Don't Be Cruel," and the worth of cars was measured by the length of their wheelbase and tailfins.
Fast forward to 1994. Gas prices have quadrupled, "Don't Be Cruel" is a golden oldie and most cars have been "downsized." Through it all, the DeVille remains long and strong.True, its fins are now only vestigial, and the power now runs through the front wheels instead of the rears, but it's still an honest, six-passenger, made-in-America sedan of the old school.
And with sales of 115,870 units in 1993, highest in its class for the seventh straight year, it will be with us a lot longer.
I enjoyed my stint the past week behind the wheel of a '94 DeVille. Initially, I had expected at least some hostile glances from my fellow motorists, if not worse. Big Caddies sometimes bring out the boor in certain people.
Didn't happen this time, even though my test car was painted "Dark Montana Blue," a name that doesn't begin to describe the odd bluish-purple (or purplish-blue?) color covering the DeVille's ample sheet metal. Let's just say I felt a teensy weensy bit conspicuous.
But no unsolicited comments came my way, leading me to conclude that the motoring public is developing a tolerance for all things large and American. Or maybe I just don't know a great ride when I see it. One gentleman at a gas station told me, "That's the most gorgeous car I've ever seen."
I wouldn't go that far, but the new DeVille bears scant resemblance to its Jurrasic ancestors. Yes, it's large (but not as large as the rear-wheel-drive Fleetwood). It has whitewalls (but no curb feelers) and it has a stand-up hood ornament. But there is no vinyl top, no opera windows, no "continental" kit and no fender skirts. The chrome is measured in square inches, not yards.
I mentioned being at the gas station. If you buy a DeVille you will spend some time there filling your Caddy's 20-gallon tank with premium fuel that will disappear out the tailpipe at a rate of 16 mpg in city driving and 26 mpg highway - one of the largest differentials between city/highway mileage I've encountered.
But what the heck, no one buys this car to save gas money. They buy it because it is one of the last genuine six-seaters, with a cavernous (20 cubic feet) trunk and all of the comfort and convenience goodies for which the marque is famous.
They also like the assurance that, in a collision with anything short of a Kenworth, the laws of physics dictate they will probably come out of it in better shape than the other guy.
Aiding in the '94 DeVille's crash worthiness are driver and passenger front airbags, the first system designed to provide airbag protection for three occupants of the front seat.
Did I mention that the DeVille is redesigned for '94? It is, but only veteran Cadillac watchers can tell the difference. Basically, it's a little more aerodynamic and somewhat larger on the inside . . . nothing major but a lot of little changes that have improved it over previous models.
We have established that the DeVille is not petite - 209.7 inches long by 76.6 inches wide and 3,758 pounds. But you wouldn't know that by driving it. The standard 4.9 liter, 200 horsepower V8 will propel the DeVille from 0-60 in 9.3 seconds, which is pretty quick for a car weighing nearly two tons. It feels even faster than that.
Moreover, it feels under control. In the old days, you kind of sailed a Cadillac down the road, rolling from side to side with the front end pitching up and down like a three-master in a storm, anticipating turns so you could bring the keel around well in advance.
Not the '94 DeVille. Its ability to take corners at speed was surprising and confidence inspiring. Cadillac has a new electronic ride setup that adjusts the suspension for different speeds. It works quite well, as does the speed-sensitive power steering.
The interior of my test car could have done with some lightening up. Everything, from the headliner to the leather seats to the floor mats, was dark blue. Any resemblance to Timpanogos Cave was, I'm sure, coincidental. The acres of dark blue were relieved only here and there by some wood inserts in the doors, dash and console. Wood inserts are one of the ways you tell that you are driving a luxury car.
As one might expect, the DeVille's ergonomics are good. If you can't get comfy in a Caddy you probably won't get comfy anywhere. In addition to their six-way power adjusters, the front seats can be heated to two different temperatures - a welcome touch on a cold January morn.
On the dash and console, all the switches are proportioned for real human fingers and everything is easy to reach.
Another way you can tell you are in a luxury car, is the obligatory "automatic" climate control. Theoretically, you set the temperature you want, say 72 degrees, and forget it, just like your thermostat at home.
But a car is not a home and it has been my experience that such automatic systems fall well short of manual versions, which are simpler, more versatile and easier to fine tune. Besides, who needs automatic when the controls are right there at your fingertips?
I'm not really picking on Cadillac; its automatic system works as well as any. I just decided that now was a good time to rant at a concept I find wanting.
The perfect climate control system in a car is simple: a fan controlled by a rheostat-type switch (infinitely variable) and matching temp control knob. Add in a half-dozen buttons that allow you to decide whether the warm/cool air will blow on your feet, face or windshield (or any combination of the three) and that's it.
You can adjust it the way you want with no fuss and quickly change it again when the sun goes behind a cloud. There is no automatic system on the market as versatile or effective.
Alas, I'm afraid this crusade is a lost cause. Automatic systems have become one of the ways that the industry separates "luxury" cars from their more plebeian offerings. It's called "perceived value."
Cadillac's on-board computer also falls into the category of perceived value, but I have no problem with it because, unlike the climate control system, you can ignore it when you're not playing with it.
Except for the fuel gauge, that is. It is digital (as are all the instruments) and tells you how many gallons you have left. It also provides readouts on your average and current gas mileage. It estimates the miles remaining before empty, based on past and current fuel usage, but fluctuates wildly. One minute it says there are 110 miles of fuel left in the tank, but hit the accelerator to go up a hill, and suddenly it says you have only 72 miles left.
Base price of my test car was $32,990, but "Option Package B" (a variety of convenience options), along with leather seats, a CD player, theft alarm, traction control and destination charges pushed the bottom line to $36,453.
That's less than $150 below the price of the upscale Concours edition of the DeVille that is motivated by the wonderful, 270 horsepower Northstar System V8. The Concours also eschews whitewalls, the stand-up hood ornament and is generally more understated. It's the sort DeVille that BMW would make if BMW made De-Villes.
But when you consider the price of the big Bimmers against which Cadillac competes, the DeVille/
Concours win going away. Even pushing $40K, the DeVille and Concours are among the best bargains in luxury cardom today.
Nitpicks? A couple. Rattles are annoying in any car, but espcially so in an expensive luxury car. My test DeVille had one emanating from the right side and another from the back seat.
Also, the radio had a lot of static on certain FM stations. Again, this is not something you expect in a pricey car . . . or any modern car for that matter. I have driven Japanese econocars costing a third of the price of the Cadillac whose radios were static free.
Finally, the trunk lid bit me. Sure, you can say it was my own fault, if you are an unsympathetic type of person. But leaning into the trunk (to lift out my golf bag) the edge of the lid nailed me right in the forehead. You might think this was due to clumsiness on my part. I prefer to view it as a design flaw of Cadillac's.