There is a group of people that live on Camano Island and have breakfast on Tuesdays at the Elger Bay Café.  Each one has his favorite make of collector car.  The group has only one rule, and that is, that there are no rules.  The variety of cars range from Model A Fords to Ferraris.  In fact, the group is referred to not as a club, but as the Camano Island Car and Social Society.  Hence, CICASS, pronounced with a hard C.  

In this bunch of approximately 30, there are 3 Packard guys—Don Wolwend, Jim Carr and myself.  One day, one of the fellows, Dennis Higgins (2 Buicks, a Mercury and a Plymouth ), said “Norm, I saw a car last weekend that you should take a look at.  It’s in Port Townsend at Robbin Bergstrom’s place.”  He then conveyed the fact that it was a 1940 Packard 160 Coupe.  Of course I was interested, but about that time, we were interrupted by another fellow who had been listening and he said “You know, I have always wanted a Packard.  I think I’ll go over there this weekend and take a look at that car.”  Well, we all know what that means.  He had just invoked the sacred car code of the West!  As of that moment in time, in front of all those people, it had just become his car because he had called “dibs”.  

Oh my goodness.  I couldn’t even go look at the car before he did, because it might mess up his “deal”.  What to do?  The first thing I did was to call the “Wizard of Warren”, the “Dean of Detroit”, the all-knowing Packard guru, our own Tom Crook.  Of course he knew the car, the name of the man who had restored it, when it was done, and what kind of job had been done etc.  After talking to Tommy, I knew I wanted the car.  

In the meantime, the other fellow had made a trip to Port Townsend and the news was all bad from his point of view.  Robin was asking way too much, the passenger seat was “broken” (his words), the overdrive was not working, and it made a creaking noise when he turned hard to the right.  However, he thought he still might make an offer.  Gee, at this point, I think I recognized some possible reluctance on his part to relinquish his hold on the situation.  Now how do I proceed so as not to become the breakfast bad boy?  All I could do was ask each Tuesday morning, in front of everyone there, “Did you make Robin an offer this week?”  For four weeks, the answer was simply “NO”.  The fifth time I asked, he turned, looked at me and said “You sure seem interested in this car.  Why don’t you just buy it?”  SO I DID.