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It's What's Up
The Cadillac Escalade has high hopes
By Marc Stengel
APRIL 12, 1999:
And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top
of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and
descending on it.
--Genesis 28:12
And, lo, it came to pass that Cadillac, for the first time since its own
genesis 96 years ago, begat a truck, and Escalade was to be its unsubtle
name.
It's tempting to believe that ebullient Cadillac dealers are the ones
scampering up and down the Jacob's ladder of salvation that Escalade
suddenly represents for them. Last year, with its luxury car sales
essentially flat, General Motors' Cadillac Division faced the very real
prospect of ending the year with fewer overall sales than Ford's Lincoln
Division--for the first time in the history of their arch-rivalry.
Lincoln's sales surged an impressive 12.5 percent in '98, owing to the
43,859 customers who flocked to its Navigator super-deluxe SUV.
As fall approached, Cadillac trailed Lincoln by some 5,000 units--until
the '99 Escalade fell from the heavens and tallied a precious 5,192 sales
in calendar-year '98. It was enough: Caddy eked past Lincoln by a scant 222
units to end the year with 187,343 sales. For '98, Cadillac Division sales
were up just 2.6 percent overall; Escalade's portion of that total was 2.7
percent.
There's a sneaky little secret regarding the Escalade that many people
don't yet know. It's not the fact that trucks in general are the
automakers' potent weapon-du-jour for ratcheting overall vehicle sales to
irrationally exuberant levels. And it's no longer hush-hush that Cadillac
ambushed its own sibling, GMC Division, by interfering with the promise
that GMC's Denali would be GM's sole, luxury-larded, ne plus ultra
SUV. The real secret is that Escalade banished Denali to penultimate status
by refusing to give customers the one thing they expect most: an options
list.
For the one-and-only price of $46,525, an Escalade customer acquires
every factory-installed goodie, gadget, and gewgaw that it's possible to
imagine pasting onto an SUV. Your salesman may yet importune about
dealer-installed extras like brush guards, undercoatings, maybe even those
cheeky little "blue dots" for your brake-light lenses. As far as the
factory goes, however, Escalade represents a no-haggle, one-size-fits-all
package raised to new heights of ostentation.
It's actually a challenge to describe such a beast, but here goes: Rides
like a truck, thanks to a basic design it shares with the lowly Chevrolet
pickup and Tahoe SUV. Floats like a boat, thanks to an immense 5,573-lb.
curb weight perched on cushy springs and giant P265/R7016 all-season tires.
(Impressive as it is, the speed-sensitive steering system fails to
eliminate Escalade's nautical demeanor over the road.) Thanks to a premium
Bose sound system, Escalade does a fair job of impersonating a mobile
concert hall, appointed all in leather and striped with Zebrano wood
accents.
Of course, there's a remote garage-door opener, an auto-dim rearview
mirror, air-conditioning (of plebeian manual variety, surprisingly), heated
seats (front and rear), and accessory power jacks galore (which
conveniently retain current after the ignition is off). Four-wheel ABS
brakes (front disks, rear drums) combine with a proprietary AutoTrac
all-wheel-drive system to deliver versatile stop-'n'-go performance over a
variety of road conditions. The system features two-wheel (rear) drive for
clear roads and, in a departure from many luxo-SUVs, a grunt-level,
low-gear four-by mode for really gooey and icy conditions. Best of all,
however, is an automatic, slip-sensitive, all-wheel-drive setting that
shuttles back and forth between rear-drive and all-drive as wheel sensors
dictate. It's just the thing for the typical pseudo-sport who knows where
he or she is going but doesn't really want to bother about the mechanics
for getting there.
Of all the Escalade's heavenly pretensions, the redesigned Generation II
OnStar system is simultaneously its most innocuous and most apt. OnStar is
GM's newest and, arguably, boldest free-standing division; formerly, it
depended upon a complicated package of satellite communications and
dealer-installed cellular phone to deliver navigation and safety
assistance. This meant billable subscriptions both to OnStar and to a
cellular-phone service. Gen II eliminates the phone and the mysterious
actuator paddles on the steering wheel. Three factory-installed buttons are
now all that's required to engage in hands-free voice communication with a
disembodied human angel, who speaks through the stereo system and ministers
to a range of needs.
If you're lost, Angel OnStar knows where you are and how to set your
route aright. If you're hungry, thirsty, or sleepy, OnStar can make
recommendations and reservations for restaurants, taverns, and hotels. If
you've crashed and the airbags deploy, OnStar directs the nearest 911
emergency crew to your location via global positioning satellite data.
Heck, even if you've simply locked your keys in the Escalade, a pay-phone
call to OnStar can automatically unlock the doors from heaven above--at a
prescribed time, so that the vehicle remains locked until you've had a
chance to return to it. A free first year of OnStar service is included in
the sticker price. The option to renew a year later, I suppose, is the only
real choice you get with this SUV.
If Escalade does indeed serve as Cadillac's presumptive stairway to
heaven, this fact begs the question: whose heaven? It has been suggested,
for example, that the ancient Hebrews' conception of Jacob's ladder was
inspired by the daunting stairs of a pagan ziggurat. Today, some 4,000
years later, Cadillac's social-climbing new super-SUV blatantly turns its
back on all the sophistication, style, performance, fuel-efficiency, and
affordability that contemporary passenger cars represent. It's as if, in
the midst of so civilized a car society, Escalade and its Golden Horde of
SUV fellow travelers have tapped a pagan, truckish urge that lurks just
beneath the surface of our modern roadways. Perhaps this is what to expect
each time we ford a new millennium: that we will become but a mirror-image
of what we have been.
Bitin' the bullet
Enthusiasts applauded last week's New York Auto Show announcement that
Nissan will resurrect its afforda-sporty Z-Car. Some of the money guys,
however, fret that the recent Renault-Nissan nuptials represent a shotgun
marriage with both partners facing the barrel. Citing Nissan's indebtedness
of $21 billion and Renault's recent election to Standard & Poor's
CreditWatch, the Wall Street Journal has noted analysts' concerns
whether the two newlyweds "can do better together than they have
separately."
The trade journal Automotive News has editorialized that "Renault
and Nissan must recognize that much difficult work lies ahead. Otherwise,
they will be like two drunks trying to steady each other after a night of
carousing." Knowing that successful matrimony will depend on Nissan's
forthcoming line of new products, Nissan sales and marketing veep Mike
Seergy has been quoted thus by AutoWeek: "If we screw this one up,
we all deserve to be taken out and shot."

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