1972 Cadillac Coupe Deville Runs Great No Reserve! on 2040-cars

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The syrupy sweet tale of the Pink Cadillac Margarita

In our last installment of the irregular and irreverent series on drinks loosely connected to – or named after – automobiles, we sipped a Taxi cocktail, which in its original form tasted a bit like a margarita infused with Blackjack chewing gum , except worse. This time, we explore mythos behind a drink so pink it usually doesn't make you stop and think. But that's what we're going to do. And, as always, enjoy cocktails (and reading about them) while you're not behind the wheel. Our brother lives in Detroit, where old American cars go to not die. On the streets of the Motor City, you will see all manner of holey-mufflered, salt-rotted, spring-sagging Big Three iron plowing along shoddily. Our brother's next-door neighbor is a connoisseur of such vehicles, and thus populates his driveway with a cache of Malaise Era Cadillacs. (His dog lives in one.) His latest addition, which our brother texted us a photo of recently while we were eating fish tacos in Los Angeles, is a Desert Rose 1977 Coupe DeVille (seen below). Since we're always thinking about cars or drinking (or both), and we were eating Mexican, this put us in mind of a cocktail our cousin's trashy bridesmaid made us try at her wedding in Charleston: the Pink Cadillac Margarita. Suddenly, we were thirsty. The Pink Cadillac Margarita is, quite obviously, a pink drink – a somewhat cloying, if deliciously chuggable concoction colored with a spritz of Ocean Spray, or Chambord liqueur if you're classy. Pink drinks get a bum rap. Blame it on the Cosmopolitan, and everyday misogyny, but many people find pink drinks frivolous. As expert drinkers, and drink experts, we would counter that the consumption of alcohol is, at its essence, about being frivolous. Never mind that the chemical is a depressive; Consuming it is about putting on your rose (or rose) colored glasses, and getting ready to make some mistakes. The Pink Cadillac is apparently so named not just because of its signature color and the irresistible musical connection between Cadillacs and pinkness (see: Aretha, Springstein, Natalie Cole). The moniker also derives from the quality of the ingredients – drawing on the historical expression "The Cadillac of..." to signify something top-shelf. "It's difficult to know quite how that name was derived," says Melody Lee, Cadillac's director of brand strategy.

We really want to use an eCrate to restomod an old GM car. Here's what we'd build

You hopefully saw the news today of GM's introduction of its Connect and Cruise eCrate motor and battery package, which effectively makes the Bolt's electric motor, battery pack and myriad other elements available to, ah, bolt into a different vehicle. It's the same concept as installing a gasoline-powered crate motor into a classic car, but with electricity and stuff.  This, of course, got us thinking about what we'd stuff the eCrate into. Before we got too ahead of ourselves, however, we discovered that the eCrate battery pack is literally the Bolt EV pack in not only capacity but size and shape. In other words, you need to have enough space in the vehicle to place and/or stuff roughly 60% of a Chevy Bolt's length. It's not a big car, but that's still an awful lot of real estate. There's a reason GM chose to simply plop the pack into the bed and cargo area of old full-size SUVs. Well that, and having a rear suspension beefy enough to handle about 1,000 pounds of batteries.  So after that buzz kill, we still wanted to peruse the GM back catalog for classics we'd love to see transformed into an electric restomod that might be able to swallow all that battery ... maybe ... possibly ... whatever, saws and blow torches exist for a reason.  1971 Buick Riviera Consumer Editor Jeremy Korzeniewski: If you’re going to build an electric conversion, why not do it with style? ThatÂ’s why IÂ’m choosing a 1971-1973 Buick Riviera. You know, the one with the big glass boat-tail rear end that ends in a pointy V. Being a rather large vehicle with a big sloping fastback shape, IÂ’m hoping thereÂ’s enough room in the trunk and back seat to pack in the requisite battery pack. That would likely require cutting away some of the metal bulkhead that supports the rear seatback, but not so much that a wee bit of structural bracing couldnÂ’t shore things up. The big 455-cubic-inch Buick V8 up front will obviously have to go. Remember, this was the 1970s, so despite all that displacement, the Riviera only had around 250 horsepower (depending on the year and the trim level). So the electric motorÂ’s 200 horsepower and 266 pound-feet of torque ought to work as an acceptable replacement.   1982 Chevrolet S10 Associate Editor Byron Hurd: OK, so the name "E-10" is already taken by a completely different truck, but let's not let labels get in the way of a fun idea.

Seinfeld and Don Rickles stretch out in classic Caddy for latest CiCGC

It's no surprise that for the newest episode of Jerry Seinfeld's Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, airing for the first time on the 4th of July, that a couple of American classics are involved. You'll Never Play the Copa unites Seinfeld with legendary curmudgeon Don Rickles, driving around in a stunner of a 1958 Cadillac Eldorado Seville in Gleneagles Green (upholstery wrapped in Grandma-spec plastic, of course).
Mr. Rickles really steals the show in this one - maybe our favorite CiCGC to date - though the Eldorado plays a strong-jawed costarring role, for sure. Stories about Ronald Regan, Frank Sinatra, Billy Graham and, of course, Herkie Styles are more than worth the price of admission. Check it out below.