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  • This is me delivering a 2009 Cadillac CTS-V to a local retired police officer. I used to sell Cadillacs for Neil Norton Pontiac Cadillac here in Peoria. This one was a particular pleasure, because I got to drive it.

    When it came out, the 2009 Cadillac CTS-V was the state of the art winner in the luxury car market. Among its other attributes, it held the record as the fastest production sedan in the world. The six liter V-8 engine with an Eaton generation six supercharger produced 556 horsepower and an incredible rush when you stepped on the gas. She was a dream to drive, and unlike the muscle cars of the sixties and seventies, had a fully tuned suspension that included Brembo brakes and superb handling.

    The interior featured a wide range of comfort and luxury items, including a rear-view camera activated by putting the transmission in reverse, a full entertainment array, including Bluetooth for phone, Satellite radio, and a 40 gigabyte hard drive that contained your navigation system and still provided 10 gigabytes for recording. You could record your CD's or do live recording from the radio, a feature which came in handy if you and your spouse wanted to listen to different things. Once you set the record feature from the radio, you could pop in a DVD or change the channel to something else. You could even pop in a flash drive to listen to a mix from your computer.

    But the driving. Wow. Now you have to understand, in spite of the luxury, this is a driver's car. Acceleration is superb, and the best part of that is the stability (enhanced by a stability control system built into the car). As you accelerate with most cars, you feel a 'drift' in the body, the rush of air under and around the car that makes steering a bit more sensitive to your touch. Not with the CTS-V. The car remains as responsive and steady as if you were traveling at normal speeds. And it maneuvers like a dream, responding aggressively to your slightest touch with precision. Curves that are normally posted at 35 mph can easily be taken at 60, and getting around traffic on the highway is almost too easy. The temptation to weave around obstacles is almost devilish.

    When the buyer and I took her out for a test drive, we were gone nearly an hour and a half, which caused my sales manager's blood pressure to soar to record heights (Don and I stopped at the local Starbucks near Grande Prairie Mall to catch a coffee and allow the looky loos to ooo and ahh over this candy apple red marvel). He was much relieved when he saw us pull onto the lot, and even more so when we came in the door, as we headed immediately to my cubicle and began to fill our the paperwork.

    It was fun while it lasted. So was selling cars, until it dawned on me that, in spite of all it's gadgets and toys, it was a car. Four wheels on the ground, an engine for propulsion, a steering wheel, and a place to sit in order to go from one place to another. Cars became, for me, pretty pedestrian. And when that happened, the joy of selling them soon became just another chore.

    Which is why I no longer sell cars.


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