A wasted pancake is a horrible thing-especially if at first it was a perfect one before it hit the floor. You almost want to brush it off and save it anyway. Who knows, if no one saw, you just might.


My 1977 630 csi is very similar to the otherwise perfect tainted pancake, and has a bit of a story. My husband had bought it for me from a friend who was living, and still is, in L.A. And the car didn’t like sitting in L.A. traffic. It would get hot, and everyone who has driven a car that gets hotter as it sits in endless traffic knows the panic, “Will the car overheat?”

We lived in Northern California and didn’t have the traffic to deal with. Needless to say, I was thrilled to be driving the ultimate driving machine. I loved this car. We paid $4000 for it, but it looked, well, strangers in the lane next to me as we waited for the light to change would ask me what year, and were surprised it was that old. Then they would smile and give me that approving nod; we all love to get, especially from strangers. I loved this car and all of its quirks. I was even in love with my mechanic, Raul. We bonded over soccer.