I brought my car home from hibernation today, which was about a 30 minute drive. On the way I was acutely aware of every smell, whir, chatter and thud it made. Every hint of sensory data I received sounded exactly like many thousands of dollars flowing out of my wallet directly into the nearest air cooled specialty shop. I basically daily drive the 993 April-November, but it’s obviously been many months since I’ve heard it run. As recently as last fall I remember being puzzled when owners who infrequently drive their 993’s would post asking anxious questions about smells or sounds that seemed perfectly normal to me. To be clear, it’s not that I was unsympathetic, I simply couldn’t comprehend how the sounds of a 993, a significant part of the experience many of us buy the car for in the first place, could possibly cause anxiety. So I had to laugh at myself (and think you should too) when I suddenly, briefly, became That Guy. In a week I’ll be tone deaf to most of the background noise and reveling in the raucous flat six wail I love so much. But for today, for a few minutes, I got it.

Or maybe it really is about to explode. To find out I’m going to do thousands of miles of research and report back next fall.