1969 Buick Skylark on 2040-cars

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Buick resurrects the Electra nameplate on a science fiction-like electric concept

Buick plans to broaden its range of electric cars in the coming years, and it still owns the rights to the heritage-laced Electra nameplate, so it was only a matter of time before the past and the future met head-on. Buick resurrected the name it used between the 1959 and 1990 model years on a futuristic, battery-powered concept car. Created by a Shanghai-based design studio, the Electra concept takes the form of either a tall sedan or a low crossover, depending on your perspective. While it's not officially a preview of an upcoming production model, it ushers in a design language named Potential Energy that will permeate most of the electric cars the firm will release during the 2020s. It's inspired by a space capsule, according to Buick, so its greenhouse was drawn to resemble a glass pod. Its surfaces are sculpted but not chiseled, and its front fascia wears LED lights with a three-dimensional effect. Fear not: Stylists didn't forget the seemingly obligatory back-lit emblem. Butterfly doors provide access to the cabin, where the space capsule theme continues. Buick packed the Electra with cutting-edge technology features, but it concealed them rather well to avoid a tech overload. The driver faces a rectangular steering wheel that retracts when it's not needed, behind which is a wide, curved screen that replaces all of the buttons, knobs, and switches normally found in a car's interior. An electric motor is far more compact than a comparable four- or six-cylinder engine, so designers were able to carve out a generously sized interior. Engineers embedded technology into the Electra from the project's earliest stage. It's equipped with software named eConnect that supports over-the-air updates, provides on-demand information about a specific trip, and gives details about the various electronic driving aids. An artificial intelligence-powered assistant lets users perform various tasks, such as setting the air conditioning or controlling home devices, with voice commands. Buick noted the Electra offers about 410 miles of driving range thanks in part to the Ultium battery technology developed by General Motors to power a wide selection of electric models, including the Cadillac Lyriq, the GMC Hummer, and a pair of Honda-badged models scheduled to go on sale for the 2024 model year.

Junkyard Gem: 1962 Buick LeSabre 2-Door Sport Coupe

American car shoppers looking for a full-sized hardtop coupe in 1962 couldn't go wrong with the offerings from The General. Chevrolet would sell you a snazzy new Bel Air sport coupe for just $2,561 (about $23,800 today), but those Joneses next door wouldn't have felt properly shamed if you put a new proletariat-grade Chevy in your driveway. No, to really stand tall during the era of Alfred Sloan's Ladder of Success, you had to go higher up on the GM food chain. For the B-platform full-sized cars of 1962, that meant the Pontiac Catalina/Bonneville beat the Chevy, the Oldsmobile 88 was the next step up the ladder, and at the very top was the Buick: the hot-rod Invicta and its swanky LeSabre sibling. To go beyond that, you had to move up to a C-platform Buick Electra or Cadillac. Today's Junkyard Gem is a once-luxurious '62 LeSabre, now much-faded in a northeastern Colorado boneyard. The reason GM shoppers got so bent out of shape about the "Chevymobile" episodes of the late 1970s, in which some GM cars received engines made by "lesser" GM divisions, was that each division had its own family of V8 engines during the 1950s and 1960s and they weren't supposed to be mingled. The '62 LeSabre got a 401-cubic-inch (6.5-liter) Nailhead engine (so called because the valves were unusually small), rated at 265, 280, or 325 (depending on what kind of compression ratio and carburetion you wanted). That's not crazy horses for a big-displacement, two-ton luxury coupe of its era, but the small valves allowed for combustion chambers optimized for one thing: low-rpm torque. This 401 has the two-barrel carburetor, so it made either 412 or 425 pound-feet of torque. That's just a bit less than the mighty Cadillac's engine that year, and definitely sufficient to get this car moving very quickly. You had to pay a fat premium on the Chevrolet, Pontiac, and Oldsmobile B-bodies to get an automatic transmission (a three-speed column-shift manual was base equipment in those cars), but a Turbine-Drive (formerly known as the Dyna-Flow) automatic was standard issue on the 1962 LeSabre. This was an interesting transmission design that traced its origins back to the 1942 M18 Hellcat Tank Destroyer and used torque-converter multiplication to provide a CVT-like experience with no perceptible shifts (the driver could select a separate low gearset manually, so the shifter looks just like the one on the true two-speed Powerglide transmission).

2014 Buick LaCrosse

A Nice, New Buick Aims For Middle Of The Road
Any time someone describes some portion of a car or a driving experience as being "nice," I want to either A) throttle them or B) run as fast and as far as I can from that vehicle. "Nice" is among the most insidious words in the English language - at best it's vague, and at worst, it conveys the exact opposite of its literal meaning. Yet it seems to be used with damnable frequency when it comes to verbally illustrating vehicles. "It looks really nice," or "These seats feel nice," or, heaven forefend, "It's got a nice ride," are all windy signifiers of absolutely nothing resembling a concrete opinion. "Nice" is the adjectival equivalent of meekly smiling and nodding your head.
Of course, I'm as guilty as the next person of having thrown English's least powerful descriptor around. There's even a chance that, rant aside, you'll catch me making nice in reviews to come. That's fine, but you should know that when you stumble upon such usage, past or future, that you've found a sentence in which I'm simply applying a bare minimum of effort to the task.