There are few cars in America that can be considered iconic. The Model T, Deuce Coupe, Bel Air, Eldorado; and one that is always near the top.
When I used to think of the Cadillac I conjured up images of the big luxurious sedans that took up an entire lane, drank gas like an alcoholic set loose in a liquor store
When Dodge announced the Demon last year, it was met with much fanfare. Rock music, smoke, movie stars, the reveal was a huge production that no doubt set the Dodge brothers back more than a few pennies.
I have a big mouth. And I make no excuse for it. I was the class clown, the boisterous—admittedly obnoxious at times—kid who has always wanted to be the center of attention, and many will agree still am.
I grew up in a time when we ate gluten for breakfast, actually left the house to play outside without using any (SPF what?) sunscreen while dodging lawn darts and riding bicycles without a helmet.