Luxe Beat Magazine JUNE 2015 | Page 101

Featured Contributor I tried my best to take care of this car, in the harsh Midwest climate. During the day, parking at work, I covered the car with a plastic top. Driving around with the top down was sheer delight. The mechanism worked automatically. The trunk would rise up during the process and the top would descend into the trunk. This step provided ultra-clean lines. Of course, you gave up luggage space in the trunk, but there was always the back seat. One character at my Department looked at my prize and dismissed it by saying, “Old man’s car.” But what did this jerk know? Another point worth mentioning was gas, both mileage and pricing. None of my big convertibles got good mileage, in fact, they got horrible mileage. But in the 60s through maybe the 80s, I always used the regular type at the pump. This was at the advice of several dealers. Keep in mind that this type of gas was full ethyl. Once ethyl was out of the formula, by government decree, I immediately changed all my pumping to full super. My next passion for my Lincoln was a cross country trip, Chicago to the Los Angeles area, to visit various national parks along the way. I could only take two weeks to accomplish this trip and it was a whirlwind. For someone who had never before been west of St. Louis, my trip was a lifetime event. The Interstate highway system was substantially complete by then, and my green Lincoln Continental and I soared. There were a few glitches, however. The Lincoln dealer should have warned me of one of them, and inspected for the other. First, both Lincolns and Cadillac El Dorados used front wheel drive (what this is constitutes another mystery to a mechanical klutz). Whatever benefits accrued from this, it meant the front tires would sometimes blow, with no connection to any nail or age. This happened to me on the way out and slowed me down, while I bought a replacement. This made me jittery for the rest of the trip. Then, at the gates of California, at least in those days, the “Green River Ordinance” raised its head. Inspectors wanted to check car trunks for any offending vegetables or fruits that might endanger California plants. But when I stopped and pushed the button to open the trunk, nothing---yes, nothing— happened. I pushed and pushed again, with the inspector obviously growing impatient. But then, a miracle of sorts occurred and the trunk popped open. I was free to go. All in all, my cross country trip with my Lincoln convertible was one of the high points of my life to date. Then, back in Chicago, I acquired something else, a fiancé. We had great fun in the green Lincoln, but I got the idea that I should present her with a new car. So, after shedding a few tears and taking a ton of photographs, I traded in the “green giant” for what else—a brand new 1966 four door blue Lincoln Continental convertible. We had great fun in this car too, occasional blown tires and all. A few years later, minus my fiancé, I found myself working in what amounted to a sweat shop environment. Although my love for the big ragtops was still intense, it somehow got circumvented by my passion for professional progress. As a result, I wound up trading the blue giant for—can you believe it— two successive, conventional sedans. What was I thinking of? These were fine cars, but I never really ENJOYED them, the way I had enjoyed convertibles. I talked to a local dealer, he informed me that there was about a nine months waiting list. Was I crushed! But a few weeks later, the same dealer called me back. The buyer for one convertible had a fatal glitch in his credit. A brand new, cream colored Mercedes convertible was mine. A few years still later, my career was making real progress. I knew I had to celebrate right, and I did, going back on the convertible route. By that time, Lincoln sorely disappointed me by ending convertible production entirely. But Cadillac El Dorados were going strong, even with only two doors available. Although the car was close to the ground, it was great fun for me and, eventually, for my wife, to drive. One aspect did seem strange. Despite the legitimate luxury tag on his car, its converti &