The Porsche Personality Type

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We recently celebrated the more-or-less 50th anniversary of the Porsche 911 automobile, and in the field of Psychology, study of Type A personality theory also has been going on for these same 50 years. The term “Type A” is tossed around often, but it’s not always exactly known what precise characteristics make up the “Type A” personality, because even among experts there is disagreement. Therefore, this post is offered as a public service for those automotive sorts who remain confused on this subject.

The Type A personality typically is associated with time urgency, aggressiveness, hostility and competitiveness. Porsche boasts of over 30,000 victories in auto-sport competition. Type A's have a clear drive for success, victory, high ambition and are goal oriented. Doesn't that sound like racing? What are high performance sports cars supposed to do, if not to perform exactly in the manner we accuse high performance, combative and work-obsessed Type A people of doing? After all, a lot of Porsche owners must admit to some level of Type A drive.

© = ?

Type A persons have short fuses, and one unrelated but often cited trait is that they experience facial sweating, particularly of the forehead and upper lip. Vintage Porsche cars suffer sweating, too, but it comes from the underside of the rump of the car in the form of oil. Maybe that doesn't count. However, the core idea of Porsche's vaunted competition record says that Porsche equals power, speed, precision, and superior design and engineering. We're better than you, it says. The short fuse thing I haven't figured out, because Porsches tend to last - 16 overall wins at Le Mans, and next year they will be at it again . . .

Type B personalities tend to be more creative, imaginative, and philosophical. In other words, they are the people who design Porsche cars in the first place. You need to be creative in order to make a car with the engine in the wrong place perform in an acceptable fashion. What was Ferdinand thinking? Anyway, Type A types get things done, because they have to, or else they blow a fuse. There is a genuine health risk with this, it's not just a joke; heart attacks, strokes - Type B people never die of anything but angst or faded inspiration. 

Luckily most of us are a blend of Type A and Type B. This means that some Porsche owners, like me, can actually think as well as drive like bats-out-of-hell. This combination of attributes is special, so hang in there if you are so blessed, because the world needs balance, especially these days. Yin-yang.

Like so many things in life, the whole story is not as simple as A+B, it's more complicated, because there are Type C individuals running around out there, as well. Type C stands for caviar. These are the persons who collect Porsche cars, but never drive them. They are the creators of the concept of the Garage Queen, and they typically wear gold chains around their necks. Once, when I was in the market for a Porsche, I discovered one that was for sale under very fishy circumstances, in Florida. It looked beautiful in the online pictures, for the most part, and even though the color wasn't right (see post "The Power of Color" below - or, read your way down there) I called to inquire about the details as no price had been listed.

While on the phone the whole story began to become suspicious - it got suspiciouser later. This man who was "not a dealer" was selling this car as a favor for a man, his friend, who lived in Connecticut. The car was in Florida, because this non-dealer had it shipped down there so as to be better able to sell it, he said. He also said that he sold the car to his friend in Connecticut in the first place (causing it to be shipped up to Conn. from Florida to begin with), but now the friend wanted to sell it. The mysterious Connecticut man had had the car for one year, but, I was told, had never even sat in the car during that time. It was just parked in a corner of his warehouse along with many of his other cars. Why was it that a man who could afford a warehouse full of cars could not manage to sell this unwanted Porsche locally? Nobody in his neighborhood could provide this busy man a consignment sale sort of thing?

So, the Florida non-dealer did his best to convince me of the immaculate condition of the car. "I have my doubts about the condition of the car," I said. He became decidedly unsettled. "The car is perfect!" His voice rose. "If it has been sitting, maybe for years, it isn't perfect," I said. "Seals and gaskets dry, gas dries, corrosion sets in, no matter what the car looks like," I said. "If I were to buy that car the lack of use might cause it to break down while I drive it home."

"Drive it home !!" He became apoplectic and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Something might happen if you drive it on the road," he yelled. I think he might have been a Type A. "I want a car to drive, not park on a pedestal," I said, "but I'll make you an offer." And then I mentioned a price that I thought favorable. "I won't sell this car for that price !!"  (now he was screaming), and he slammed down the phone.

This image and the above borrowed from the web

 A week later I saw a fantastic Porsche for sale on eBay (not the white one on the left), but this time the color was so unique that even I was taken aback by it. But, it was a consistent Concours d'Elegance winner and totally amazing - and it was regularly driven. Oddly, the car was in Connecticut. Also, it was too expensive, but somebody did buy it in that auction; I watched the bidding. A few weeks after that I saw the same car (obviously - that color) for sale again, but not in an auction. I didn't want the car, but I was curious, so I telephoned; it was now in Florida. "I'm not a dealer, but I'm selling that car for a friend," the man said, "my friend has had it for a year and hasn't even sat in it in that time . . ."

No doubt this represented a special branch of the Type C personality, but in any case a car is for driving. Collecting, I don't really understand, but then I'm an A+B kind of guy.

"Richness does not consist in the possession of treasures, but in the use made of them. " - Napoleon Bonaparte.

Not enough of a Bad Thing

I'm fussy about my 911. When working on it I try to do things well, make sure the work is functionally correct, and above all it must be neat. Sloppy doesn't cut it. This is a big order, so sometimes it is best to hire a professional to do something for me when it is a job involving precision, specialized tools, or clearly defined expertise. It makes sense to do so, because otherwise, in my ignorance, I'll get it backwards, upside down, or inside out. And then there are jobs where neatness is front and foremost, in my face, and central to the whole issue. I'm not talking about an exact adjustment of a crucial internal engine part (where neatness counts a lot), but something I have to look at every time I drive the car. The speedometer.

There was an issue with my trip meter. Often with older Porsches the plastic gears that drive the odometer will break, so a repair to this general area is commonplace. Not wanting to attempt this repair myself and, more importantly, because I have always been annoyed by the fact that the steering wheel in my older 911 blocks off two-thirds of the view of the speedo dial, I wanted to get a new dial installed  - one that would be rotated so that zero would be at the bottom (instead of at 8:00), thereby offering me a view of a larger portion of the most often used part of the dial; 0 to +/- 90 mph. And, I wanted to have a kilometres-per-hour scale, too, because I drive in Canada as much as the USA. This is not a new idea and there are shops that do this work routinely.

In order to illustrate what I wanted, I searched the Web to find helpful pictures. One image showed a rotated dial, with correctly reprinted numbers, a good starting point. This image was of a 160 mph scale, whereas I wanted a 150. Next I found a picture showing the process of removing the speedo needle, but it had a dual scale with nice blue kph numbers. OK, those two together would work, but with the 150 scale.

After quite a few emails and phone calls to a well-respected speedo shop, to whom I sent these pictures, an agreement on the work was reached and I pulled out the speedo and shipped it to the shop. The speedo returned a second time (there was a functional glitch the first time around that needed resolving) and I installed it into the instrument panel. It looked like this before refinishing the panel into which it is mounted.

Wait a minute. What about the blue km/h scale with the round line? The thing just looked funny to me otherwise, too. Therefore, I did this. I superimposed a transparent disk over an image of the 'new' speedo. Start from zero and notice where the little squares are relative to the edge of the transparent

Click to make it larger.

disk. They are 'off' right from the start, and their placement gets especially wonky above 120 km/h, but more importantly the spacing between the squares is inconsistent and some are not correctly aligned to their mile equivalent. For this I paid top dollar? Did I mention that I was fussy? We're talking about hundreds of dollars for this work, after all, and does the finished product resemble the 'blue-line' example I provided above? 

One thing that needs to be remembered is that correspondence about this job began in the middle of March. Tomorrow is the first day of June. Part of that time was consumed for other reasons, but this was no rush job. 

I'll use the thing as it is, just because I don't want to have my car off the road dealing with this issue when we have such a short summer for driving. 

The km/h numbers are somewhat smaller than in the blue example shown above, so I find that I can't easily read the km/h numbers while driving, anyway. At least they are there for some demanding traffic policeman to look at.

So, after a lot of consultation, illustration, et al, it is disappointing that the result is really short of what I hoped for, and paid for. The shop said in an email, "Please keep in mind that these custom dial layouts are done by hand in our shop and we are trying to be as precise as possible." Well, I hope they are still trying, but today's computer design programs, when attentively used, can produce a better product than this example.

I try to be neat and do a proper job. I don't like sloppy work, and I tried as hard as possible to be sure I got the result I wanted. I didn't get that. But who else will notice? I can read a larger part of the usable portion of my speedometer's dial and that's important. Maybe this is not enough of a bad thing to be upset about, but it will remain an unresolved disappointment, nevertheless.

Peculiar Spelling in France

The literal translation from French into English of 'porche', is porch. However, that's not the meaning in this case, which is why it's a 'Rue' with that illustration of an archway. In the meaning intended on these ceramic panels, 'porche' refers to an entryway for horses pulling a cart, or carriage, but with a special added function. Through that passage, there is a space for the horse (or donkey) and carriage to turn around so that it can come straight out again. Obviously, it would be too difficult to have the horse back out with a cart onto a narrow antique village street, making a sharp turn to one side at the same time. Therefore, it turns around inside, within the 'porche'. There is no confusion in a French town that 'porche' might refer to a rear-engined German sports car. Clearly a 'porche' such as this is a very old structure.

Never mind. When I typed 'porche' into my search engine it assumed that I was a 'Merican who couldn't spell and, therefore, gave me many listings relating to 'Porsche', a much newer conveyance than a donkey and cart. There were also references to personal blogs, and Facebook pages whereon people thought that they owned and drove 'Porche' automobiles, and they were proud of this and happy. 'Mericans. . . The French know how spell perfectly well.

In fact, this post is an account of my just-finished travels in Spain and France. While there I looked for actual Porsches and I found a few, but none of them were the vintage of my car - they were almost all newer, same as here. I did find a '70's 924, but it was so sad it doesn't count. Mostly, the tiny roads that I took on this trip across and within the Pyrenees were great fun to drive and that might be the central theme of what I will write now. We'll see. I'll just do it, and we'll find out what the subject is later. 

There are a lot of French cars that I like very much, but they are not available in North America. Mostly I'm talking about old cars, though, and they were available in NA, but that time has passed. For example, the Citroën 2CV (deux chevaux), or the DS19 Safari station wagon. Old Peugeots were less radical (model 403, as an example; looks like a bar of soap), but were sturdy and, often, peppy in their realm. On this recent trip, we rented a Peugeot 308, and it was quiet, comfortable, nice handling, and peppy, too, considering its 1.6 litre engine. I don't know if we need modern French cars in NA; they wouldn't live up to the éclat of the old ones. Anyway, many of them are diesels and 'Mericans don't like them very much. Too smelly.

The Pyrenees nicely separate Spain from France, with the little-bitty country of Andorra sandwiched in between. Going from one side to the other of this range can involve a large motorway and high speeds and matching tolls, or a smaller road that is slower, but usually with more character. We rented a GPS unit along with the Peugeot. While trying to haul ourselves from Foix, France, down to Barcelona, Spain, we were advised to take a certain special route that would 'not take any longer' but allow us to see some more splendid ruined castles perched on their peaks. From this route we could rejoin the motorway and zip to Barcelona in time to relax in our hotel before a typically Spanish late-night dinner.

The GPS got lost. It's true. It was a Garmin unit, just like at home, even with the same voice. That voice started saying, "Turn left, turn left. Go straight 9.8 km. Recalculating. Turn right, turn right," all of this on a straight 5km long road with no intersections whatever. The thing went berserk, and we never found the slick motorway with its 130 kph speed limit. Instead, 'the voice' (Gertrude, we called her) put us on a road about one-and-one-half cars wide that wound a serpentine route through and across the Pyrenees, just about nicking the corner of Andorra, through tunnels, and no guard rails to be seen. Around here, where I live, if you can find a nicely paved twisty road to enjoy, scooting along in your vintage Porsche, the whole experience takes about fifteen minutes before it's over and you have arrived on a big boring road again.
   
OK, the road below isn't the road we drove. This road is in Andorra but was just a few kilometres away from where we actually were, so it's similar countryside. However, this Andorran road would have been much easier to drive than the one we experienced. For hour after hour, I'm being accurate here, nothing but totally blind corners, impossible drop-offs, hair-pins constantly, rock walls that made the road too narrow, snow and hail (in May, in the south of France/Spain), and every now and then a truck that needed two lanes and there were only one-and-one-half. I never got beyond third gear. I loved it, and I drove as hard and fast as I could.

     
On the other hand, my significant other got seasick and took to dangling her head out over the drop-offs, staring into the constant abyss as it droned by. It appeared that she didn't love this ride for some reason; there is no accounting for taste.

In certain ways this trip was peculiar.  We began in Spain, went to France, back to Spain again, back to France once more, then finally back to Spain to finish it off. As a result this gives me license to skip around a bit, because that's what we did. 

So, earlier, in the tiny hillside town of Eus, France, we trekked slowly on foot up a winding road to see yet another antique church on top of a commanding hillside. Given our pace, we could look at things in detail. I looked into somebody's garage - a little thing connected to a house. This is what I saw.

A genuine Model A, flat-head Ford hot-rod. Who would have thought? But there it was in all its glory. I poked my head in there and a man was inside, puttering around. Bon auto !, or something like that I said and the guy grinned. I held up my camera and he shook his head OK.  We had a pigeon-french conversation (doing my best), and here is what I found. Way cool ! I would love to own this car, but it still sits there in France. Why is there that cardboard under the motor? Most often hot rods like this have small-block Chevys in them, or, if they still have the flat-head it will have finned and polished Offenhauser heads on it at least. As you see, this one has the original heads, nicely painted black. Clean and simple. I like clean and simple.


And, unusual for hot rods, too, this beauty had its original wire wheels and skinny tires, front and back. I liked the look and made the owner aware of this in no uncertain terms. He grinned a whole lot more. I don't believe this type of automobile - actually it was a pick-up truck - was ever that common in France, but what do I know. Maybe it just arrived the week before. I don't think so, though, because of the old number plate on the front that looked as if it had been there for a very long time.

Maybe this V-8 hot-rod valiantly still makes its original 65 horsepower and it's all just for show, but then again it might rumble out 100. Some of the most extreme flat-heads were tortured into making 300 horsepower, but they didn't last long doing it. Edsel Ford, who designed these vehicles, didn't have that sort of thing in mind, at least initially. I wonder how this little V-8 would have done on the winding road I mentioned above. 

Can't read it? Click on it.

Another thing I liked about cars I saw in Europe on this trip were the names of them. I saw car models named Scenic, Twingo, Clio, Wind, Bipper, Partner, Jumpy, Picasso, and Nemo. From North American manufacturers we are offered the Tornado, Avenger, Challenger, Magnum, Charger, Nitro, Rampage, and the Cougar. I guess we all stew in our own juices.

To be fair, there are many other car names out there, but still there is a cultural gulf involved here that cannot be ignored. I suppose that when you need to use very little gas (in France gas was around $8.25 per U.S. gallon) you don't call your car a Magnum, or Rampage. They just wouldn't sell. Bipper sounds like sipper, which makes more sense, but not in French. Hmmm.

Actually, I probably saw as many Porsche automobiles running around in Europe as I do around here. One day I saw a transport truck full of them, carefully plastic wrapped. Too bad I didn't get to the German Autobahn where these cars truly come alive.

But, I didn't get there. Instead, we had lunch. You have to wait for lunch to be prepared, and so, being generally curious, I inspected the bottom side of my fork. "Made in Italy" it said. The plate was "Made in Austria." I kept looking and found everything that I scrutinized was made somewhere in Europe. Nothing whatsoever was made in China. Now this was interesting. Back home in North America - actually Canada - almost everything is made in China. And I'm not just talking about things I saw in that little café, either.

In our hotel I looked at the bottom side of the furniture, appliances (when we had a kitchenette), bedding, towels, light fixtures, and those little shampoos they give out. Nothing made in China. I was disoriented and confused. It seems as if the Europeans, at least in the portion of the place where we were, keep it all in the family. It might cost more to produce things locally, so to speak, but perhaps they have an interest in preserving their industries, instead of making the greatest possible profit. Then again, it might be a cultural imperative and economics are secondary. I don't know.

It's not the Chinese who are selling atrocious junk in North America, it is the merchandisers here who demand the lowest possible price on everything so that they can make the most money by selling a 4 cent object for $14.95 to keep their shareholders happy as they do it. 

What this has to do with Porsche cars, older ones anyway, is bad parts, cheap. Even not so cheap. It's not the fault of the Chinese. They can no doubt make high quality products, too, but they are asked to produce cheap and they are good at it, so we get a lot of crap. Here it's money, money, money. In Europe there is a far greater concern with the quality of life that people lead. You can see this in the pace of many things, in the intrinsic value of many things. What matters is a rich life, not so much rich shareholders.

OK, this diatribe is simplistic and incomplete, but that does not mean that it isn't true. It is so that I found nothing Chinese (except in an actual Chinese store, but that doesn't really figure in) and that everything I examined came from a 'local' source. That means something, and says a lot about another cultural gulf, between Europe, and N.A.

Time out. I have to walk the dog.                

Visions of Skinny-Dipping Dance Through My Head

Readers of this blog who live in warmer climates will find it hard to believe that last night's new snowfall here and very frigid temperatures actually existed, but I assure you that they were quite real. And I'm talking about 20 degrees below freezing and my pond is still as hard as concrete. A moose walking across that ice would cause no cracking and could feel perfectly safe that he would not fall into the deep water below. Moose have been swimming around in my pond before, but sensibly only in the summer. This is a Porsche story? Yes, keep going.

A temperature of water that moose feel comfortable to swim in is not the temperature that my delicate carcass can tolerate, so it will be June, probably, before I jump into the pond to join them. Since summer is so short here, people look forward to it more. It's precious, due to it's brevity. Somewhere on the Web you can look up how many motorcycles there are per-capita in a given place (they are a proper case in point, because they are a warm weather giggle), and you will find that Quebec, where it's bloody cold, sits right up there in the rankings of motorcycle ownership. Why? What you must do less, and when you can avoid freezing to death, gains value. Warmth is like any other scarce commodity.

Such is the story with driving your old rust-prone Porsche - wait till the salt and cold are gone to make the experience bearable for you and the car. An old Porsche has an odd perfection in this climate - too cold in winter, and too hot in the summer. At any rate, people eagerly look forward to driving when they get their brief sunny summertime chance.

A few days ago

This means that I'm still working on my 'winter' projects with my car. I have been monkeying around in the engine room, trying to solve problems, replace various bits, refresh others. This business was only partly successful, and I'm not too sure how big that successful part is, but the engine looks nicer now.

Fairly soon I'll put some oil in the engine and see if I can start the contraption. Starting is not a foregone conclusion. There is a mysterious issue with the cold starting gadgetry, and so there might be a resounding explosion instead of the desired result of causing the engine to run, but these things must be dealt with one at a time.

The repainting of various engine bits went well, in that it looks good at the moment, but functionally I got less resolved. I addressed a couple vacuum leaks and eliminated certain other problems, but new aggravations arose when genuine Porsche parts would not fit properly and my main supplier turned out to be clueless about how to address this situation. That, and I couldn't even get some suspect parts undone to see if they deserved my suspicion or not. Well, enough complaining about ill-conceived fitments and such.

Yesterday

The main point is driving the thing. Once it is sorted out I have in mind a selection of roads that I look forward to driving once again this year, in Vermont +/-. For example, when it is nice and warm, and the moose and I are swimming happily together in my pond, I will one day venture out toward Lake Willoughby on VT Hwy 5A. This is a beautiful drive, with the road meandering along the shore of the long narrow lake, plus the general countryside in that area is pastoral and pleasant. It almost has mountains, too.

There is an additional feature, however. At the south end of the lake there is a public beach adjacent to the side of the road. The surrounding 'mountains' and woodland are part of Vermont's Willoughby State Forest, and it is a nice area for a refreshing stop on a hot summer day. The water in that lake is always pleasantly clean and very cool. The beach is contained in a small bay. Around the point that defines the bay, there is another bay that cannot be seen from the road. And, interestingly, the second bay is private property.

Somehow, somebody maintains ownership of a few acres within the state forest that include a nice beach in a nice bay, around the corner, so to speak, out of sight. And, even more interestingly, that

It's that second bay back there.

beach, which is not regulated by the state forest, is a NUDE BEACH. Right there in modest Vermont. See, I told you this was a Porsche subject. Remember, the water is always cold in this lake; swimming has small emphasis at this 'private' beach (although the public uses it), so people furtively (not) wade around, chat, and get sunburned, all over. There is ample parking for your Porsche out along the road.

OK, that lake is really too cold for swimming, which is what you really wanted to do, so never mind.

Let's consider driving some more. How far do you want to go? Just Vermont? New Hampshire? Maine? There are plenty delicious roads in the general region, but I have to warn you that this is not some big city's suburbia and you will be out there, on your own, hoping that your cell phone connects to something, but this is not a safe bet. There will be towns where people never heard of a Porsche. Think 'Deliverance, North'. If you are old enough to understand that reference, then you are older than you look and well into your 50s, at least. You will grasp my meaning when you get there.

Maybe it's not that bad for the most part, but much of this area is 'Merica, pass the ammo. Anyway, 

A warm and fuzzy recollection of the car before the trip, but now. . .

you've got a map, or Google Maps, so take a look and find your way down and over to the Kancamagus Highway (112) in the White Mountains. Do some shopping (you'll know what I'm talking about when you get to N. Conway - factory outlets) and then drive up 16 past Mt. Washington. Maybe you should even drive up Mt.Washington if it's a clear day.

Then go north on 16 until you hit US 2, now go east on 2 and hook up with 17 north and go north till you hit 16 again on which you go south to go home, if you are so lucky. If you do this, you will have gone through some very wild country, will have driven some wild roads, and will have dangled your toes in waters such as Mooselookmeguntic Lake, and maybe Umbagog Lake, too. Your elderly Porsche will have consumed 9 quarts of oil, but if you are fortunate it will still be running and looking nearly the same as before.

This not something you should do in one day, I don't care where you start from. Enjoy.

The Power of Color

To some degree, this is a confession.  

When someone wants to obtain a Porsche, especially an older one, one of the first things that pops into many people's head is performance. Which the best handling? Which has the most power? What general condition is the older example in? Should I hot rod the thing, or not, or get a ready-made hot rod, either by Porsche itself or someone else? They are, after all, real performance sports cars, and you want your Porsche to be one.  

People can say what they want, but drive a Porsche on the track, or drive it on public roads, and they will have the snot driven out of them. OK, I say elsewhere on this blog that elderly Porsches are driven gently on sunny days in the summertime. The question is, what is 'gently' for a Porsche? Those who drive these cars while never exceeding 3000 rpm are in the wrong car, or are boulevard poseurs, whatever.  So, a performance car is asked to perform; duh, no wisdom there to stop the earth's rotation. Some people keep them as collectible tchotchkes, never mind.

But, speed, handling, that sound, et al, aren't the whole picture. A new Porsche costs an obscene amount of money. Some people have an obscene amount of money, so Porsche also charges an even more obscene premium for the options they hope you will lavish onto the car; they are very good at this. One of the costlier options is this - paint to sample. This means you can supply Porsche with a sample, and that means any kind of sample (a lock of your dog's hair, a fender from an old Studebaker, etc.), and they will paint your shiny new Porsche in that exact color. You can have your wonderful Porsche in any color that exists on the planet Earth.  So, color must be important in this whole equation.

Obviously, color has a variety of meanings and functions in different cultures. White means purity in a number of ways in our culture, while it is the color of death in Japan. I don't know how popular white cars are in Japan, but otherwise red is in the middle of the Japanese flag, and red is (around the world) commonly associated with danger, sacrifice, passion, fire, beauty, blood, anger, simplicity, purity, candor, and in China and many other cultures, with happiness. The fashion statement that your Porsche makes isn't fixed, except locally.

By the way, repainting your old Porsche, if a truly good job is done of it, can cost more than the frightful price Porsche would charge for a special color on a new car. Therefore, be sure to choose the color of your car carefully in the first place. 

Now here is a fun fact:  I took a look at the inventory of new cars at the largest Porsche dealership in Montreal, the nearest big city to my location. Get this - 100% of all new Porsches they had in stock have a black interior!! How about that for imagination? 100%? Can it really be true that potential Porsche owners in Montreal have zero individuality and they all want black? Whenever I have attended a gathering of Porsches, people swoon over interesting colors, especially interior colors. Maybe this is because nobody gets a chance to buy anything but black. . . Given a choice, I wouldn't be caught dead in a car with a black interior, unless it was a hearse with me as the only passenger. You can find all kinds of information about colors, and then pick and choose what you like. Here is the first thing I found about the color black, "Black is authoritative and powerful; because black can evoke strong emotions, too much can be overwhelming. Black represents a lack of color, the primordial void, emptiness. It is a classic color for clothing, possibly because it makes the wearer appear thinner and more sophisticated." Got that?

It's a cliché that women will see 100 different colors, while men will generalize those same hues into the primary or secondary colors - red, yellow, blue, etc., thereby reducing subtlety into brute irrelevance. Too bad for those men, but this isn't universally true. Sometimes you can reverse the genders, but generally speaking, some people are just not that visually oriented. There are male Porsche owners who are passionate about what color their car is, but on the whole they are in the minority. Otherwise why would there be so many boring cars out there? Porsches included.

Sorry, but I have strong color preferences, and some combinations really resonate for me more completely than others. Get yourself a small, cheap Korean car and it is a sure bet that the interior will be grey almost all of the time. There is a reason for that and it's called 'lowest common denominator', or similar words which mean that this is the most anonymous possible color that will offend the smallest number of people, or, put another way, make them all the same and they get cheaper.

Alright, forget all of that, ignore the cost, and repaint your old Porsche in a dynamic, individual, assertive, subtle, harmonious, contrasty, personal, bold, delicate exterior color and interior color combination as best you can, but think about it. You are driving a Porsche, after all, doesn't that make you a dynamic, assertive, etc., etc., person who thinks outside the box?

I said this post was a confession of sorts. I bought a grey Porsche. And above I spoke in a disrespectful way about grey interiors.  My car doesn't have a grey interior, it has an orange/tan interior and the exterior looks very much like the hard metal the car is made from, rather than 'grey'. To me this equals a warm, organic interior surrounded by a hard, impervious exterior. Just like me.

My car. Not super orange, but leaning toward orangeness.

Orange means warmth, joy, heat, sunshine, success, encouragement, change, enthusiasm, fun, determination, stimulation, happiness, balance, sexuality, enjoyment, health, freedom, expression, and fascination. It is one of the healing colors and also strongly denotes creativity. Orange promotes a sense of general wellness and emotional energy that should be shared, such as passion, compassion, and amiability. Orange will help a person recover from disappointments, a grieving heart, or an affront to one's pride. While orange is made up of red and yellow, it carries less aggression and fierceness than the color red does because of its combination with the calming color yellow. Some research shows that the orange color can create physical effects such as increased hunger, heightened sense of activity, increased socialization, boost in aspiration, stimulated mental activity, increased oxygen supply to the brain, increased contentment, and enhanced assurance. Orange also helps aid decision making (should I shift gears now?), and enhances happiness, confidence, and understanding. Who would not want the inside of their car to be orange? It does everything for you.

My car's interior isn't all orange, but plenty of it is; enough, anyway. I gave it a lot of thought.

YIKES! Over the top. (It's a Cayenne.)

Don't just buy a car in any old color. Do yourself a favor and put some real effort into selecting the colors that your valiant Porsche will wear. After all, perception is reality, to some extent, and you will be seen driving around in a very special automobile. What do you want to say about yourself? 

Perpetual Confusion Machine

As the title of this post points out, when I'm working on my '74 911, and I think I've gotten the details right - after all, I've researched the issue to death before starting to work - it turns out that I messed up. Not all the time, of course, but often enough that I growl at the car just as much as I glance at it admiringly. And, naturally enough, I worry that something I did will catch fire, fall off, explode, be a waste of time and money, or not result in the solution I was after in the first place. 

You must be cautious about what you use for parts; it matters. Generally, Chinese reproduction parts don't cut the mustard, but you don't always know where stuff comes from, even if you try to buy quality. I recently got badly made spark plugs - Bosch, made in Russia. You can't install spark plugs that have coarsely made threads without causing wear to the threads in the aluminum cylinder head, so what brand should I have gotten? One of them would not screw in at all, period.

I didn't start life as a mechanic, but I'm trying to turn into an ersatz one for the purpose of keeping my Porsche alive, as well as trying to civilize it a bit. So, there's a learning curve. I don't pretend to know all there is to usefully know about these cars, but I'm trying to get a handle on what I need to know. How some people know as much as they seem to know tells me that that they are at least 150 years old, and that they spend 22 hours a day working on, researching, or attempting to drive their 911. Fanatics, but they are a useful resource. You have to check out the online forums, but be cautious - maybe they don't know as much as they claim.

No engine, no transmission, no interior, nothing in the trunk, no worries.

After spending work and time carefully refinishing some piece of the puzzle, I don't want to have to yank it out of the car again because I forgot a detail, or tightened something incorrectly, whatever. I'm recreating a work of art, after all. It's sort of like brazenly retouching a Rembrandt - an outrageous affront to genius - but even an Old Master needs cleaning and a new coat of varnish now and then.

It takes perpetual enthusiasm to be an antidote to the perpetual confusion. If I can even get this car started after it is all screwed back together (again) it will be an important victory and something to be proud of. To an amateur. There are enough imperfections in this car to cause Ferdinand Porsche to roll over in his grave.  Sorry, Dr. F., I'm working on it.

But, who knows. Perhaps the thing that I unwittingly bumped while fooling with a part next to it will peevishly refuse to function, and it will pretend that it didn't do it and that it's fine, but it very much is not fine. Denial. If it starts and runs I will install my ear plugs, to forestall deafness, and drive off to find a 150 year old genius to help make it run properly. This job will never be finished, but that is, in part, the point of the exercise and one reason for ownership. Dr. F. will be proud.  

First Day of Spring, 2013

In much of the northern hemisphere the first day of spring, March 20, implies that warm weather has arrived or, at least, is a short way off. People are shining their Porsches in anticipation of driving once again after a long winter - that is if they are not driving already.

Here I went snowshoeing three times yesterday and today, and driving required four-wheel-drive and a lot of ground clearance.

By the way, if you are not familiar, four wheel drive looks like this:

This is the type of vehicle we use on a regular basis to get around when the snow is deep, or later, when the mud is deeper. Mud is stickier stuff and I've seen cars stuck in it in this area while square in the middle of the road - going down a steep hill. Other people may be driving all over the place in their Porsches already, somewhere, and even here there are lucky souls who get to drive earlier than I do.

Since I live on a dirt road, about one mile from pavement, I have to wait until mud season is over entirely before venturing out, lest I thoroughly coat the bottom of the car, including inside of the fenders, with still-salty mud. This is not good for a nearly 40-year-old car that has no galvanization on any of its bodywork. Plus, why would I want to  mess up all the shining I worked so hard at?

And, just to prove the reality of the situation in these parts, here is the snow that was piled up from yesterday's storm (this is from clearing the driveway). There are several piles and some are bigger than this, but this one is next to the garage, so I used it for scale to show that it goes up above my head.  This is springtime?

March 20, 2013

Anyway, I have been miserably slow this time around in getting anything done on my Porsche; I guess I should be grateful for the extra time this snow gives me to do a few more tasks. I did learn, though, that some things I intended to do are beyond me. I don't understand enough to properly accomplish everything, never mind all my books and the Pelican Parts technical forums, plus friends I can call, I simply don't have the specialized tools, or specialized knowledge, either.

I fiddled a little today with my 911 in anticipation of some replacement parts that have not yet arrived, but then I have not really gotten to the repairs/modifications that I had in mind in the first place for this winter season. I decided to add a small detail to my list of 'to do' jobs on the car, well, one thing led to another, then another, and it now looks as if the important stuff will have to wait again. I have once more wasted too much time on superfluous incidentals. At least I recently learned about the existence of a really good technician in these parts ($$ probably) who can help sort out a few issues that I can't solve.

I'll add some more to this post after I finish shovelling the walkway and the deck.

OK, I finished shoveling. So, here is PART TWO of this post:

Newport Center, Vermont

This is what I imagined I'd be doing in early spring, running around on a country road, but with all the pollution Porsches spew out, you get Global Warming. This screws up the climate and you wind up with goofy weather that is all out of proportion, more furious hurricanes, deep snow on Easter, that kind of thing. Anyway, in my dreams, I'm here.

I take that back. Cars like this do not run as cleanly as new cars; that's a given. Do they pollute more? Actually, not. Because they are driven so little, and only on sunny summer days. And they are driven carefully, lest you mess them up. So, the net addition to junk in the air is much smaller than what a new car that is driven all the time, no matter how cleanly it runs, pumps into the air. So there.

If you want to go seriously fast in one of these cars, and ignore the resulting pollution momentarily, take it onto a proper race track.

Non-ethanol gasoline is important to cars of this vintage. Ethanol eats various components of the fuel system in most any car that's older than the year 2000, so when this gas is found on offer, I buy it.  Naturally, because they left the ethanol out they charge an awful price premium. Of course, ethanol in general is a disaster, but I won't get into that just now.

Instead, I'm going out to try an idea to reduce the noise level inside this car. It's a small idea, but every little bit helps.   

The Exotic Supercar Psychosis

This is a car blog that should only be about old Porsche cars, but I couldn't help myself; this instalment addresses fantasy cars that shouldn't exist. They do exist, in fact, but that is the crazy part.  A lot of 13 year old boys drool over these cars and think they are cool, but it's almost the same as kids liking dinosaurs.  They were real, were scary, but aren't around anymore, so they aren't really scary after all.  These cars are real, are scary, and they are around, sort of, so now I'm scared.

Anyway, Porsche just announced the new 2014 911 GT3. This is pretty close to an Exotic Supercar, in that it has terrifying performance, and a terrifying price to go with it. The car is, however, built to a precise purpose, which is driving very fast, mainly on a track - not posing, which is the raison d'être for many other cars. I read about the GT3 on a performance car website and you could almost listen to the writer drooling onto his keyboard as he carried on about the extravagant heights to which the car can soar, and all of that. Naturally, on that website there were links to articles about even more drool-worthy exotic automotive excess, and so, being weak, I took a look at some of them.

£2.6 million, plus tax

This picture shows one of the most perfect examples of the poseur genre. That is to say, only billionaires could buy one, they exist in very small numbers, they have performance that cannot ever be used - anywhere. Do you imagine looking over your shoulder to check traffic in the next lane in one of these, on your way to your masseuse? Nobody will ever take it onto a racetrack, either, for fear of getting a nick in the paint job, or getting it upside down. Being seen in the car is most important. Spectacular performance is touted, but, naturally, most cars of this type only get driven very small distances - they never wear out! More likely they break down a lot, but if you need to worry about the cost of repairs you shouldn't be in this game in the first place.

So, what is the point? Well, the main points of such cars are these: Look at how big my dick is! Look at how much more money I have than you! Look at what low levels of taste even a billionaire can have! Hey, I'm 45, but really I'm 13, so I drive a Batmobile!

OK, these remarks step on somebody's toes somewhere, because they practice supercar religion and are true believers. That may be, but I just don't get the worship of trinkets, and that's what these cars are. Large jewelry for certain special people who also wear a lot of gold chains. This is a boutique car; not my taste. Anyway, for me diamonds are just so much shiny gravel, so I have a certain attitude, too.

Looking at fantasy cars like this momentarily removes our cares, as we imagine ourselves screaming along a mythical road at fighter-jet speeds. It ain't real. I'll take my elderly 911, thank you. It makes enough noise to make me think I am going fast, wow, but then I'm not a billionaire. If I were, possibly I'd think otherwise, but I doubt it. 

One more idea. This kind of thing has been going on forever, probably ever since automobiles started into production. Which is to say, people have regarded cars as a sort of vernacular art form since day one.  Art is fine, the thing is that today's examples of supercars (some of them, anyway) are not only everyman's art, but at the same time their performance levels have become insane, therefore, they have developed themselves out of a reasonable existence. Remember, they consume a lot of petroleum, pollute too much, and the highway infrastructure of today is deteriorating and crowded. Where do you drive it, really?

You can't go to a tennis match with one of the current supercars unless you really frustrate yourself with your restraint as you try to drive in a responsible manner - and not get arrested. Once upon a time, "Supercars", known then by other names, were elegant expressions of grandeur. You could drive while putting the peons in awe, making them think you were a maharaja or something. Possibly you needed to be a maharaja to pay for your exotic car, just like today. The car above is a Hispano-Suiza Dubonnet Xenia, 1938. I believe I prefer it. We have not developed very far art-wise, just techno-freak wise.

Click on this picture

The design above shows a popular theme. This car at the bottom is a 1930 Mercedes SSK engineered by Ferdinand Porsche, so we have come back around to Porsche, where I'm supposed to be (this body was completed in 1934, however). This is, after all, an 'old Porsche' of sorts. I'd even trade my old 911 for this SSK, even up. The SSK was the last project Porsche worked on for M-B before he left to start his own company.              

Finally, the new Porsche 918 Spyder will be a supercar, when it finally does arrive in actual production, and the price will give any normal mortal a nosebleed. It will be a rational supercar, that uses only 3 litres of gas per 100 kms (78 miles per U.S. gallon). It's a rolling laboratory of sorts.  Still, you'll be challenged to drive rationally in a car that has irrational performance, considering today's roads and all.  Again, I vote for my slow 911.

400 Porsches in Newport, Vermont

This blog continues to be about vintage, air-cooled Porsche cars, but sometimes the water-cooled variety can be of note, too. For example, in the modest near-border town of Newport there is a small and somewhat rundown looking transmission repair shop - with a twist. The shop is the flat-roofed, two garage doors and an office off to the side type of place, with random junk lying around, made of painted cement blocks, and all of it with a patina from years in the auto repair trade. Quite commonplace and anonymous, as this type of shop can be seen everywhere. Except for one thing - there are always very shiny late model Porsche cars sitting out in front of it. These cars are not being serviced for Vermonters. 

Today there were only a red Boxster S and a white Panamara sedan. And an SLK Mercedes, but more on that later. Now I have seen the changing display of Porsches in front of that shop before, but the Panamara was a first for me in Vermont, and since I was on an excursion to fetch some parts for my 911 that I had ordered from California, I was in a Porsche sort of mood, so I stopped in to see what this was all about.

OK, they are much newer than this, mostly

I wholesale 'em, the guy said. He looked just about the way you would expect a man in such a garage to look - unshaven, a heavily soiled Subaru tee shirt, worn out shoes. He did have a smart phone, though, and when it rang he answered in French. Quebec is right next door, and he does plenty business in Quebec.

Mostly I deal with Porsches, he said, but I've started recently working with Audis and Mercedes, too. There's a Mercedes out there now, he pointed out, but you and I already knew that.  Now here is the interesting part. He moves around 400 of these cars per year! Can someone buy one of these? I asked. No, my cars are all pre-sold, was the answer. To whom? I do business with 28 dealerships in Canada. They call and tell me they need a dark blue 997 Turbo, no older than 2010, for example. So, I find one and have it shipped up here, then it gets exported to Canada. I charge $500 over my cost, but do you know how much they sell those cars for in Canada? Plenty. I don't charge enough. This was said with a certain sideways grin that was difficult to decipher.

There aren't 400 Porsches in Vermont in total. Where does this businessman get the cars? Dealers call and tell what they need and he finds it? I would think he'd be on his computer all day, or on the phone trying to locate a perfect 997 Turbo somewhere in Texas, but no, he was in his garage changing the oil in an old Jeep Cherokee.

I don't need, nor want to pay for a recent model Porsche, but I believe I'll stop in again next time I pass his way. I'll ask a few more questions. . .

Instead of Porsches, there were some '70's American cars there. The place has new siding and almost looks respectable, and there is a sign that says "_______ Used Cars."

I went inside to see what this was all about. The same guy was there, but he was wearing a clean polo shirt, and was clean shaven, except for his new goatee. What happened to all the Porsches? I asked. I move 400 cars a year to Canada, he responded, clearly not remembering me or our earlier conversation.  I'll be getting several in a day or two, he added. Right now I'm looking for an Audi.

You told me earlier that all of your cars are pre-sold, I pointed out. OK, if I wanted a 2007 Cayman in a certain color, could you get me one? You have lot's of connections, it seems.

I do, he said, and I'm very picky about what I buy. Yes he is, the guy in there with the necktie said, he has gotten me three previous Audis and now he is looking for a fourth. They don't last? I said. No, no, I resell them, was the portly gentleman's reply, but it's not worth my time to search all over the continent, so I come here.

Sure, I can get you a Cayman, or whatever you like. Thanks, I said. When I'm ready I'll be back. The door is always open, he said.
      

This post (elsewhere) was trouble. . .

In my workshop

TOO MANY PORSCHES

I receive Panorama Magazine from the Porsche Club of America. As is usual with Pano - and other Porsche-centric publications, on one of the first few pages there is a score card of Porsche new car sales for the previous month/quarter/year. In these reports the recent and consistent increases in Porsche sales are celebrated, with mention of new record numbers of cars being moved.

To me this is getting really, really tedious. The more Porsches are sold, the more diluted the brand becomes; the less unique it is; the less value my car has - to me monetarily, as well as on an emotional level. It's just not as special any more.  

Why, therefore, is this run-away growth celebrated in enthusiast publications, all the time? I don't get it, but I can understand that VW is happy to rake in more money from all the new cars, and I can imagine, also, that it plans to introduce pick-up trucks, minivans, and maybe scooters with the Porsche name on them. After all, its biggest market is now China, where they sell mostly Cayenne SUVs. 

It's all about money. The thing is that there are people like me who own older Porsches; who work on these themselves; who have, perhaps, less interest in the latest super-duper gizmos. My car goes plenty fast enough to get me into all sorts of trouble as it is. Anyway, my car (seen above) is an honest, mechanical beast that leaks a little, and that needs continuous care to keep it going well. It's an engaging proposition, caring for a vintage Porsche, but for me, at least, I don't want at the same time to be engaged in swooning over the fact that new Porsches have bloated their numbers on the road. The latest 911s are high-performance luxury GT cars, not so much raw sports cars anymore. I heard that Porsche is considering putting a button on the console that will automatically drift the car through a corner while you talk to your broker on your cell phone - hands free. 

Well, those 992s, etc., won't last very long before the gizmos and plastic bits start falling apart, but my light-weight 911 will still be snarling along, as the 992s turn to dust.