Looked at in an extremely forgiving light, the Ford Pinto qualifies as a classic, wouldn't you say? You rarely see them anymore, in large part because of their notoriously poor design. But I can very clearly recall riding around in a 70s Pinto--white, just like this one, with black seats that would get blisteringly hot to my bare legs. Owned by family friends, (folks who for MANY years resisted buying "foreign cars"), this car felt cramped, gutless, and unfashionable even to my 8-year-old self. Why, then, did the sight of it in Venice the other day give me a feeling of nostalgic pleasure?
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