2007porscheboxster

have to keep reminding myself that a car payment isn’t going to kill me.

It’s the economy that will kill me. I mean, maybe it wasn’t such a grand idea to buy a porsche at the tale end of 2011. But I wanted to feel like I had some control over the uncontrollable. The world is rumored to end. Iran will have nuclear weapons, the Euro will tank, Canada and Mexico will ignore the euro tanked and will want to share currency, someone will get elected to white house and it might change everything or nothing…someday soon radioactive waste from Japan will show up on my beach, and then you know there is always the earthquake… It did seem like the worst time in the world to buy a porsche. But, isn’t it this kind of irrational thinking what makes us american?  Yes, I can afford it.  Today I can afford it. But tomorrow, who knows what we’ll be able to afford tomorrow.  Will there be a tomorrow? Is this car my commitment to a better tomorrow? Then why am I so fearful?

So, I get in my Porsche and try and move past fear…no, it doesn’t really work. I need a porsche to drive my soul around and obviously spiritual sides don’t need things. Or do they? Can we pretend they do?  Can I pretend when things get too much, when the deadlines change for no reason, when irrational people ask me to deliver irrational things, when people say this is happening because its all my fault, can’t I pretend, that thing deep within me that is the keeper of the light…can’t I put that light in a spiritual porsche boxster where the mirrors adjust in reverse and bose stereo blocks out the noise. Can’t I?

You bet I can. Zoom zoom world.

We went for a drive yesterday on Highway One.

We saw the dolphins from the car.

Or maybe they saw us.

Writing is taking a walk. No, it’s taking a stroll when you want to run. It’s a 26 mile marathon that you’re forbidden to run. It takes a long time to warm up your thoughts. To weave them. To destroy them. To kill them. And then to bring them back to life. It takes all day for one hour. An entire week for one good idea. It doesn’t work on a cold start. Procrastination is writing. Writing bad is procrastination. Writing good is procrastination. It doesn’t go away. There is no finish line. It is a marathon in the shape of a circle. One of Dante’s rings without the fire, but never with the right word, or idea, or need. A circle, a loop through the mental sludge. The pressure of time creating the diamond thought but of varying degrees.

Driving the porsche is not writing. Driving the porsche is freedom. Driving the porsche is sometimes fear.

But it is not writing. It is not writing.

And that’s why I drive.

why add to the stress of it all

But there we were…looking at the first car I test drove…way back in the early fall.  It was still at the dealership

Because it sucked.

No..No…It was still there because it was FAR TOO OVERPRICED

God, but perfect in everyway.

In fact, I never test drove it that first fall weekend. I had the Salesaman drive it with me in the passenger seat. I thought if I drove it, I would automatically head it right for a tree. Revealing once and for all that I was a fraud. I don’t deserve the dream.

That was the only picture in my head. One of complete and utter destruction. Not of the car, but of me. Of the image of me up to that point. I belong in rusty jeeps. Take advantage of me business world, really all I’m worth is a rag top.

But, Here I was, in my DREAM CAR…and I wouldn’t dare drive it. Why wake the dream?

We have a choice to make our dreams come true and here I was shirking away. It made me think about myself. It made me want to run. It was too much. The deer in the headlights…was in the car.  And it was me. And I couldn’t breathe.

One of my former bosses owns a Maserati and a Ferrari.  I used to have to start these cars in the summer while he was away.  If  you didn’t let them run for 30 minutes a week the battery would die. Actually, the battery usually did die on the Ferrari. (battery tenders and all.) anyway, after about a month, the ferrari would die,  that car, wants to go. Of course, I hated even opening the door, sitting in the seat and starting the car.  I thought if I didn’t break it, it was going to break me. I thought somehow I was going to leave my poverty shadow on the car and somehow bring him bad luck. I swear to God. Sitting in the car brought on so many irrational and thoughtless thoughts.  I actually hated it. It was like walking into a huge liability where no matter what I would do, I would leave my mark. The real me would be revealed.

And it wasn’t even mine. I was simply the hired help.

The thing is the car has less than a 1000 miles on it and it’s a 2005. I now know this is very bad for the car. He actually has to get all the belts and stuff fixed because of age and not wear.  I think it’s going to cost him $5K.  You may think he has the money but the truth is, no one likes to spend it. Rich or poor. Not on something like this… Because this is his dream car and he hasn’t driven it, he has PRESERVED it. and now in it’s very preservation it has deterioated. The dream fades regardless of what we do.

Anyway, there is a tendency that when you buy your dream car, you don’t want to drive it. You want hoard it. You want to put in the pumpkin of your garage where the cruel mean world won’t take a bite out of it…or a ding…or a paint chip…you know that the moment you get your dream car…the slick is going to wear off and sooner or later it’s going to take a beating, like the rest of your dreams, the rest of your life.

I think that’s why you can find so many garage queens in California with low miles. Maseratis, Ferraris, Porsches…That may seem like a great thing, but it’s not. I think roadsters don’t do well in their later lives if they don’t run in their earlier lives. Maybe it’s the same for people too.

I didn’t drive my car yesterday. And I have to work all weekend so I doubt I’ll have time to go to Neptune’s net for a sunset…but I will drive this car. I will.

Even though all I really want to do is pour a glass of wine and sit in it. Lights off. In the garage.

I couldn’t f find it anywhere.  It’s thin. I looked in all my pants pockets, all my purses, in the fruit bowl, in the change bowl.  I had a hair appointment so I asked my husband for his. He gave it to me (bonus! got to remember that.)

Check my accounts. All is good.

Needed my wallet today. Didn’t know where I left it.

Then I checked the Porsche.

Yep, it was there in the middle glove box. Hmm. hmm. Harbinger of things to come, I thought.

Oh, I keep calling it in my head, a Ferrari.  Freudian slip. Is the Porsche Boxster S the Ferrari of the lower reaching for middle class…

Are you shitting me? We rushed to LAX. At night. Never buy a car at night, I know, I know, but I had this thing in my head where this was the only space in my day and I wanted to see if this car actually existed or if it was the sugar that carmax used to get the ants to it’s LAX car lot.

We went. It was beautiful in the dark.

Silver, curves like Macarthur’s beloved plane, The Bataan.

I sat in it. It was like sitting in a Yankees Baseball glove, while still on the have of the Yankee.

It had a soul. I felt it. Full leather interior.

I turned it on. It started. I mean, really, you never know. It sounded like a 2004. I mean it wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t trying to not wake the baby. It was the baby.

I took it for a test drive.

Around the block.

around the block?

I wanted to go on the highway but Carmax dude wouldn’t let me. Surely, it was my driving. I went from driving the Ugg boots of vehicles to a Jimmy Choo one size to small and it showed.

The Porsche was stiff. And it smelled a little.But what do I know about smells. It just had this smell. Like a cancer drug smell.

B, my husband drove it, loved it. But also wanted to drive it on the highway.

But it was too late.

So we sat with the CAr loan guy who tried to convince us to run a credit check. We have good credit because we don’t have children. There are a few benefits to not having children, we have to praise them when we can.

BUT…eventually, I am a slow thinker, I said no. I don’t want to run the credit until I take her on the ole highway. I wanted to get this silver dream up to 55 which is like not even a pulse for this car but we were looking for a second car so it’s not like I needed a daily driver. I was willing to accept a moody vehicle that I could afford.

So we went home and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t believe I was going to get a Porsche, that I could afford. I read on the Boxster forums that you want to buy a Boxster for half the price so you can have twice the fun.

I couldn’t believe I had found it. and that the next morning it would be mine. Life, after years of being shitty, was about say just kidding, Life, your life, is really great! or at least will look great to strangers who don’t own a Porsche Boxster S above the 04 vintage…

The next morning, I wore my Porsche buying clothes, grabbed my husbands check book and off to Carmax LAX we went.

I throughly went through the car in daylight per the books I bought. But the truth is, No matter how much I looked, crawling on the pavement trying to look for rust, etc, I knew that whatever problem this car had, I wouldn’t find it.  It would be Deep, deep, deep, within it’s soul and unable to be revealed.

Still, I went through my checklist. The only thing I could see was the tires. They were made in Korea.

I like Korea. I figured they were some street racer type tires.

Then I googled them.

They were 60 bucks each on line.

…my jeep tires, hell the tires on my pig of a pick up were more than that…

What does this mean?

My husband took the Porsche on a test drive on the highway.

He came back.

He was in love with this car even though he had seen the Soprano’s episode where they say a Porsche Boxster is a Porsche with panties.

So it was my turn.

I took it on the highway.

I realized I couldn’t drive. I mean, I was unsure of my mirror placement. I even youtube how to adjust your mirrors because it’s not something I used in the last 25 years of driving…

but I wasn’t comfortable in the driver’s seat BUT STILL LOVED THE RIDE.

IT WAS MINE

It was going to be mine.

It drove stiff, and different But it felt so good.

The Carmax guy was happy. He was going to sell a car today. I was happy. I could make it home by noon and get back to work.

And then, it happened.

The engine light went on.

A little message said something like take to workshop immediately.

I am not joking.

My heart was crushed.

Carmax man said, yeah, I just noticed that light too.

I returned to the lot. Got out of the car. Told him I couldn’t buy it with the engine light.

He said there were no mechanics around but would call us on Monday.

We left. We never called.

My husband and I had a hard time figuring out what to do next.

Finally, I realized it. I told him the silver 2004 Porsche Boxster S had HIV. It would live but never quite get better.

We were back to square one. And we were in a really bad place. A place I’ll call, let’s just buy any god damn car and get this over with.

We decided to Call Rob, at Rusnak Porsche, in Thousand Oaks. They had a beautiful Porsche Boxster that we certainly couldn’t afford.

So, on our way, we went.

So the first thing I did was buy two books from amazon.

I recommend them. If your anything like me, you’ve just been to Craigslist and realized, if you are in California, that it is completely possible to buy a used Porsche Boxster for $9999.  I was so excited when I saw this and this really was my plan. But then I got these two books and realized buying a Porsche and owning a Porsche are two different things, for me. These books will basically tell you yes, you can buy a used Porsche but here are all the things you have to look out for.  The horror story of Maintenance is long. Phrases like IP shaft failure, rebuild engine, condensation in the exhaust systems…after reading these two books…My husband and spent 4 weeks looking at Mercedes SLKS. We test drove a bunch.  If you go to driverside.com you can search the maintenance schedule and notice the SLK has a very user friendly, Mcdonalds happy meal for lunch, type of maintenance plan. If you check out Boxster, this is the BOA steakhouse of maintenance plans.

I knew we could afford a more expensive Boxster, but I also knew that the expense of the car comes with maintenance (thanks to the two books above.)

So we drove SLKs. Took a long time to realize that what we wanted was a SLK 350 Amg body style in black.  So it could be our black swan. Top up, Natalie. Top down, Mila.

I drive a Jeep as a primary car. Jeeps really don’t need anything. They like potholes and curbs. Like a mac, they are plug and play. In the years I have driven them, starting with a CJ-7 when I was 16…I think they do better with neglect.

So, you know, the whole test drive a roadster is really pass or fail with me and my husband. If cars were wine, we wouldn’t be able to tell a Dominos from a Ravenswood.

What we really needed on that test drive was a very long outdoor mirror because what we were more concerned about was how we looked.

Yeah, I said it.

So anyway, I knew this and I knew were doomed. Whatever we were going to do was going to be a mistake. We were going to buy the wrong car, at the wrong time and regret it all along the way. But I couldn’t turn back now. I was addicted to autotrader.com, carmax and cars.com.

I had three projects I needed to complete and just when I got into the rhythm of the work the devil would jump in brain and say, hey, R, maybe there’s a 2005 slk 350 amg for under $24K on Carmax…go look go look…

and look I did.

So I had to buy car just to get off of carmax.  I needed a nicotine patch for carmax. I needed methadone for autotrader. I needed to get back to work. Work was my procrastination from car buying, work was my break from the stress of deciding if I really wanted to go to Bakersfield to test drive something I could afford with 70K miles but was cpo…

I drove slks from Mercedes Oxnard, Mercedes Thousand oaks, Mercedes Long Beach and like orange county autohaus etc. etc. and well, I felt….nothing.

As kid, growing up, I never said I wanted to drive an SLK. But I always said I wanted a Porsche.  It was a meme. My driving experience was based on a meme, a thought pattern, a dream, a wish, and not on the actual experience.

So that’s how I knew that if I got the SLK…I would still want a Porsche ..because I have always wanted one. And the want, the reason behind it, totally and completely irrational.  I liked the way it looked whether on I 80 from Salt Lake to Park City, highway one, Magu to Malibu, or the expressway to gilgo beach…I’ve seen porsches on these roads. Roads that seemed paved with these cars in mind. Roads that seemed to say life can be, for ten minutes, exactly like a car commercial.

And then I found my PORSCHE!