Back in the early '90s I had a 1953 Buick Special Riviera. Certainly not a concourse show quality vehicle, but an extremely good looking & reliable driver. The Buick and I were regulars in Somerville on a Friday night.  But I was in a strange position.  I had some money in the bank, and room for a car in my garage. Out comes the pencil & paper and the list of priorities goes like this: *pre war, *side mounts, *touring, *orphan. I fell head over heels for a 1927 Studebaker Big 6 Duplex Phaeton, but it got away.  Despondent, I went to my garage and started to spiff up the Buick.  What does one do when they are despondent?  One goes shopping.  This led me to Cars Inc, a respected antique Buick parts dealer in Neshanic Station.  Glenn Cecchine had moved his Buick business to an old Studebaker dealership in the middle of nowhere.  The place was a cornucopia of all things Buick.  This particular day, there was an interloper in the old showroom.  Gleaming in the florescent lights, and looking almost as despondent as I, was a 1953 Cadillac!  I had to look at it.  Mentally, I checked off my list: *pre war? No. *side mounts? No. *touring? No. *orphan? No.  Beautiful? YES!!!  I purchased two reproduction 1953 Buick widgets and went back to my hum-drum existence.

Some time passed, and on a whim I called Glenn.  Is the Cadillac still there?  His answer was yes.  How much do you want for it?  His answer was more than I could afford.  Not to be deterred by minor details I set up an appointment for Saturday to drive the car.

Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful - perfect weather to take an old car out for a spin. Upon my arrival in Neshanic Station, the car greeted me from the sidewalk. The brilliant sun revealed many of the flaws that were not visible in the showroom.  Smiling, Glenn told me the procedure of removing the car from his showroom, no easy task.  In the bright sun, I noticed sagging doors. Under the hood I saw unsafe amateur wiring. Glenn jumped into the passenger's seat, and I cautiously slid behind the wheel. A flick of the key brought this behemoth to life. Skillfully easing the transmission into drive, we proceeded on our short odyssey. I soon learned that all was not well in Mudville that late summer day. Shifting out of drive into either low or reverse had an adverse (and unexpected) reaction. Idle speed jumped to around 3000 rpm. Not good. Arriving safely at Cars Inc., I made a decision not to purchase the car. It was beautiful, but it needed some work.  Expensive work.  I couldn't insult Glenn, after all he still had to move several cars to return the Cadoo to its resting place.  I had to make some sort of offer, so he could decline and we could all go on our merry way.  I offered a pittance.  He accepted.  I panicked. What do I do now? The only honorable thing to do was to call the bank and get money.

Fast forward a bit. The still-beautiful Caddy had made a couple of trips to Roxbury Glass & Radiator, a little restoration show then in Roxbury NJ.  The blue plastic wires that darted around corners and in and out of the firewall were replaced with a proper harness.  Sagging doors were shored up.  Errant throttle and shifting bug-a-boos were rectified. Some of the slapdash restoration procedures were un-slapped and redone properly.  The beautiful Cadoo became a suitable garage companion for my '53 Buick.  Parked side by side, I fantasized they would share stories with each other. The Cadillac became known as Ike, the Buick, Mamie.