How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Ferrari and Love the 993
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This is a story about the convoluted path I took that culminated in my car purchase last month. And yes, I have pictures. They’ll come in a day or two.
My interest in sports cars always far exceeded my actually getting them and, depending on the current stage of life and other interests of the moment (girls, sailplanes, work, sailboats, climbing, kids, celibacy – just kidding on that last one) I sometimes uncontrollably lusted after them and sometimes not so much. But time marches, or rather stampedes on and a few months ago I decided it was time to actually do something about cars. While I still feel like a kid, I noticed that people my age and even younger actually died of things now and then which brought up the ugly possibility that I might not live forever.
A year ago I had had enough of our meager two-car garage. It had a small extra nook in it that had become the inevitable dust bin for garden tools and other frivolous junk. I bought a new motorcycle that I needed to park, so I had the bright idea to buy a cheap storage shed for the garden tools and position my bike in the nook. I looked at tiny plastic sheds at Home Depot, then started looking at big sheds to really get everything out of the garage, then next thing I know I was building a detached 2 ½ car garage (the biggest the zoning commission would let me have) next to my house. Just as Nature abhors a vacuum, so did my garage. The beautiful creation, with 12 foot ceilings, skylights, compressed air, a sink and a giant commercial door had become a willful creature intent on sucking in a sports car.
My car lust was inadvertently helped along by buying my wife a new SUV. I refused to drive it and instead stuck to my old work truck with over 200K miles and the dents and scratches to match. The guilt was finally too much for her and she pleaded (yes, pleaded) for me to get my dream car. Now that wasn’t exactly planned on my part, but when providence offers up a gift you must take it.
I like Ferraris, but then, who doesn’t, and so I started looking for a 360 as they seemed to have fallen to relatively bargain prices. Ferrari 550’s are even more of a bargain than the 360, and, in a way, everyone should own a 12 cylinder car before they die, but they are so BIG, so the 360 seemed like the one. I remember going to the dealer years ago looking at the 360 only to be told I’d have to buy a used one for $30K over MSRP as there was no way I was getting on the sacred list of Those Allowed To Buy New Ferraris.
I also briefly considered Mercedes/BWM/Cadillac, etc., but come on, aren’t the only people who drive those doing so because they really like sofas, they’ve gone soft, or their spouse won’t let them have what they really want? (Note: If your life goal is to sit in an SL, then don’t be offended, I’m sure you are a fine person. Just a little wimpy – oh darn, I didn’t mean that…) Anyway, it’s kind of like the saying that an agnostic is just an atheist without ***** (hey, I didn’t say it, Stephen Colbert did). A Merc driver is just a would-be Porsche pilot without…well, you get the idea.
In college I had a new tangerine 914 and, of course, every 914 owner dreamt of someday having a 911. When the first 911 turbo came out we 914 owners would actually shake at the very thought of it. It was so scary and so unobtainable. At the time I thought it was more likely I’d get to pilot Stevie Nicks than a 911 turbo. So, although I was planning on a 360, I kept a peripheral eye on the 911.
So let’s see how the Ferrari 360 market is in Utah: Hmm, nothing at all at the dealer. Although the salesman did take the time to tell me I was doing the right thing looking for a 360. He said a 355 (I like those a lot, too) would likely cost more in the end due to all the maintenance issues. The local car classifieds had few; a pretty, but overpriced 360, a collision victim that was proudly proclaimed to “still drive!” and a nice looking one listed by a chopper shop. I briefly imagined going for a test drive with a leather-clad large-armed biker emblazoned with the likes of “Death is My Master” tattoos. So it was on to Autotrader and hundreds and hundreds of 360’s. It seems like at any one time 10% of the fleet is on sale. And they’ve barely been driven. If you have one with a rock chip and a few miles you’re a pariah and don’t stand a chance. Now I know Ferraris can have horrendous maintenance costs and I know that F drivers must be uttering a silent prayer (Please, Lord, please don’t let anything break today…or “Please help my spider’s top to rise like your Word upon the land of the heathen”… or “Please heal my $16,000 F1 actuator-I’ll do anything, anything, I tell you…). After all, they say there are no atheists in Ferraris when you take them in to be serviced. But come on! You see pictures of the car with the mansion and the three mile driveway in the background. The SOB has some dough. He’s already lost over a hundred large from depreciation. What does it matter if he drives it like a real car and loses another $50K? I don’t get it. I considered that my personal contribution to the car world could be to buy a Ferrari and drive it as much as possible (have to get snow tires for those Utah winters), piling on the miles, 100K, 150K or more to make up for all the chicken F drivers and thereby save the world from being destroyed by Shiva (who does not like un-driven cars according to ancient Hindu legend).
But the truth was that F cars were losing just a little of their appeal every time I read another sad story or heard about more quality deficiencies. I design products for a living and I like good design. The admirable Italian flair for style does not totally make up for sometimes silly mechanics. Yes, I know Enzo only wanted to race and didn’t care about street cars and yes, I know the later F generations are much better. Finally.
Speaking of quality, I had read lots about the vaunted Porsche engineering. When I first heard that Porsche was the top of the car quality heap my response was “What??? You’ve got to be kidding!” You see, my 914 broke a lot. Okay, maybe four-wheeling in it didn’t help. But if you’ve got a hot college babe who promises amazing things if you’ll just take her up in the mountains, what would you do?
So I started to browse more and more 911’s. I really did love them, too. I had mourned the end of the air-cooled engines like everybody else, but hadn’t kept up much with the new models. I had the brilliant idea to pick up a last generation air-cooled car, but damn! Everybody else in the world had that same idea earlier. They are pricey. How could you possibly justify spending that kind of money when you can get a 996 for less, or a 997 with warranty for maybe a little more? 996 turbos are the biggest bargain Porsche’s ever had. I like them. I also drove a 2007 997 turbo – brutally fast. Like new with 13,000 miles, warranty – you couldn’t tell it wasn’t new and it was half price. Every fiber of my being told me to buy that car. But I didn’t.
The 993 was getting stuck in my car brain. I told myself I didn’t need a turbo. I would just ease into it slowly and I could always get something more expensive later, if I wanted. But turbos look so nice and, after working 80 hours/week for 25 years I could afford it (but don’t feel too sorry for me because I like my job and would do it for free. Come to think of it I actually did do it for free for the first several years). There were exactly twenty-nine 993 turbos on Autotrader. They ran the gamut, from under 10K miles to nearly 100K. Wow, I liked them. They don’t have a window over the engine, but look at those rear fenders. I wanted to press a hot blonde up against them and do unspeakable things. But where to find one? (The car, not the blonde-I have one of those.)
Well, I did find one and it was my first. Beautiful from the outside, I got in it only to be disappointed that the seat didn’t seem to go back far enough for my 6’2” frame. And there wasn’t much room for my big feet. I had heard that the dash of the 993 was the same as thirty years ago. I thought they were kidding, but wow, they weren’t. For three decades I guess Porsche must have only had one guy working on the interior design, and he only came in for a couple of hours every other Tuesday. But I like it. It has everything you need and nothing you don’t. It’s direct, minimal and animal. And it will never be again. People these days expect lots of buttons and LED’s and such – “As God is my witness, I could never have a car without cup holders!” Porsche and their shareholders want to make money (can’t blame them for that) and in that way they did the right thing because they sell lots more cars today than in the past. Now they have a whole team of interior designers, each assigned to a specific button or ****, headed by a flowery figure, Herr Charm, who tells the board of directors “I will program myself to dream about the integration of the interior with the customer’s wallet.” Calm down, Shiva.
Then I started the engine. They don’t sound like that anymore. I drove it up Little Cottonwood Canyon (goes to Snowbird and Alta) and in five minutes I forgot about the seat position and thought “I can work with this.” The owner told me to go fast down the canyon and slam on the brakes, letting the ABS do the work. Good Lord that stops fast! Pressing on the gas it’s hard to tell how fast it is because it just turns on and then you have to stop to avoid going to jail. Screw 0-60, I want to try 0-150! But I thought it would be impolite to get the seller’s car impounded. I MUST have this car… resistance is futile…
More to come…
My interest in sports cars always far exceeded my actually getting them and, depending on the current stage of life and other interests of the moment (girls, sailplanes, work, sailboats, climbing, kids, celibacy – just kidding on that last one) I sometimes uncontrollably lusted after them and sometimes not so much. But time marches, or rather stampedes on and a few months ago I decided it was time to actually do something about cars. While I still feel like a kid, I noticed that people my age and even younger actually died of things now and then which brought up the ugly possibility that I might not live forever.
A year ago I had had enough of our meager two-car garage. It had a small extra nook in it that had become the inevitable dust bin for garden tools and other frivolous junk. I bought a new motorcycle that I needed to park, so I had the bright idea to buy a cheap storage shed for the garden tools and position my bike in the nook. I looked at tiny plastic sheds at Home Depot, then started looking at big sheds to really get everything out of the garage, then next thing I know I was building a detached 2 ½ car garage (the biggest the zoning commission would let me have) next to my house. Just as Nature abhors a vacuum, so did my garage. The beautiful creation, with 12 foot ceilings, skylights, compressed air, a sink and a giant commercial door had become a willful creature intent on sucking in a sports car.
My car lust was inadvertently helped along by buying my wife a new SUV. I refused to drive it and instead stuck to my old work truck with over 200K miles and the dents and scratches to match. The guilt was finally too much for her and she pleaded (yes, pleaded) for me to get my dream car. Now that wasn’t exactly planned on my part, but when providence offers up a gift you must take it.
I like Ferraris, but then, who doesn’t, and so I started looking for a 360 as they seemed to have fallen to relatively bargain prices. Ferrari 550’s are even more of a bargain than the 360, and, in a way, everyone should own a 12 cylinder car before they die, but they are so BIG, so the 360 seemed like the one. I remember going to the dealer years ago looking at the 360 only to be told I’d have to buy a used one for $30K over MSRP as there was no way I was getting on the sacred list of Those Allowed To Buy New Ferraris.
I also briefly considered Mercedes/BWM/Cadillac, etc., but come on, aren’t the only people who drive those doing so because they really like sofas, they’ve gone soft, or their spouse won’t let them have what they really want? (Note: If your life goal is to sit in an SL, then don’t be offended, I’m sure you are a fine person. Just a little wimpy – oh darn, I didn’t mean that…) Anyway, it’s kind of like the saying that an agnostic is just an atheist without ***** (hey, I didn’t say it, Stephen Colbert did). A Merc driver is just a would-be Porsche pilot without…well, you get the idea.
In college I had a new tangerine 914 and, of course, every 914 owner dreamt of someday having a 911. When the first 911 turbo came out we 914 owners would actually shake at the very thought of it. It was so scary and so unobtainable. At the time I thought it was more likely I’d get to pilot Stevie Nicks than a 911 turbo. So, although I was planning on a 360, I kept a peripheral eye on the 911.
So let’s see how the Ferrari 360 market is in Utah: Hmm, nothing at all at the dealer. Although the salesman did take the time to tell me I was doing the right thing looking for a 360. He said a 355 (I like those a lot, too) would likely cost more in the end due to all the maintenance issues. The local car classifieds had few; a pretty, but overpriced 360, a collision victim that was proudly proclaimed to “still drive!” and a nice looking one listed by a chopper shop. I briefly imagined going for a test drive with a leather-clad large-armed biker emblazoned with the likes of “Death is My Master” tattoos. So it was on to Autotrader and hundreds and hundreds of 360’s. It seems like at any one time 10% of the fleet is on sale. And they’ve barely been driven. If you have one with a rock chip and a few miles you’re a pariah and don’t stand a chance. Now I know Ferraris can have horrendous maintenance costs and I know that F drivers must be uttering a silent prayer (Please, Lord, please don’t let anything break today…or “Please help my spider’s top to rise like your Word upon the land of the heathen”… or “Please heal my $16,000 F1 actuator-I’ll do anything, anything, I tell you…). After all, they say there are no atheists in Ferraris when you take them in to be serviced. But come on! You see pictures of the car with the mansion and the three mile driveway in the background. The SOB has some dough. He’s already lost over a hundred large from depreciation. What does it matter if he drives it like a real car and loses another $50K? I don’t get it. I considered that my personal contribution to the car world could be to buy a Ferrari and drive it as much as possible (have to get snow tires for those Utah winters), piling on the miles, 100K, 150K or more to make up for all the chicken F drivers and thereby save the world from being destroyed by Shiva (who does not like un-driven cars according to ancient Hindu legend).
But the truth was that F cars were losing just a little of their appeal every time I read another sad story or heard about more quality deficiencies. I design products for a living and I like good design. The admirable Italian flair for style does not totally make up for sometimes silly mechanics. Yes, I know Enzo only wanted to race and didn’t care about street cars and yes, I know the later F generations are much better. Finally.
Speaking of quality, I had read lots about the vaunted Porsche engineering. When I first heard that Porsche was the top of the car quality heap my response was “What??? You’ve got to be kidding!” You see, my 914 broke a lot. Okay, maybe four-wheeling in it didn’t help. But if you’ve got a hot college babe who promises amazing things if you’ll just take her up in the mountains, what would you do?
So I started to browse more and more 911’s. I really did love them, too. I had mourned the end of the air-cooled engines like everybody else, but hadn’t kept up much with the new models. I had the brilliant idea to pick up a last generation air-cooled car, but damn! Everybody else in the world had that same idea earlier. They are pricey. How could you possibly justify spending that kind of money when you can get a 996 for less, or a 997 with warranty for maybe a little more? 996 turbos are the biggest bargain Porsche’s ever had. I like them. I also drove a 2007 997 turbo – brutally fast. Like new with 13,000 miles, warranty – you couldn’t tell it wasn’t new and it was half price. Every fiber of my being told me to buy that car. But I didn’t.
The 993 was getting stuck in my car brain. I told myself I didn’t need a turbo. I would just ease into it slowly and I could always get something more expensive later, if I wanted. But turbos look so nice and, after working 80 hours/week for 25 years I could afford it (but don’t feel too sorry for me because I like my job and would do it for free. Come to think of it I actually did do it for free for the first several years). There were exactly twenty-nine 993 turbos on Autotrader. They ran the gamut, from under 10K miles to nearly 100K. Wow, I liked them. They don’t have a window over the engine, but look at those rear fenders. I wanted to press a hot blonde up against them and do unspeakable things. But where to find one? (The car, not the blonde-I have one of those.)
Well, I did find one and it was my first. Beautiful from the outside, I got in it only to be disappointed that the seat didn’t seem to go back far enough for my 6’2” frame. And there wasn’t much room for my big feet. I had heard that the dash of the 993 was the same as thirty years ago. I thought they were kidding, but wow, they weren’t. For three decades I guess Porsche must have only had one guy working on the interior design, and he only came in for a couple of hours every other Tuesday. But I like it. It has everything you need and nothing you don’t. It’s direct, minimal and animal. And it will never be again. People these days expect lots of buttons and LED’s and such – “As God is my witness, I could never have a car without cup holders!” Porsche and their shareholders want to make money (can’t blame them for that) and in that way they did the right thing because they sell lots more cars today than in the past. Now they have a whole team of interior designers, each assigned to a specific button or ****, headed by a flowery figure, Herr Charm, who tells the board of directors “I will program myself to dream about the integration of the interior with the customer’s wallet.” Calm down, Shiva.
Then I started the engine. They don’t sound like that anymore. I drove it up Little Cottonwood Canyon (goes to Snowbird and Alta) and in five minutes I forgot about the seat position and thought “I can work with this.” The owner told me to go fast down the canyon and slam on the brakes, letting the ABS do the work. Good Lord that stops fast! Pressing on the gas it’s hard to tell how fast it is because it just turns on and then you have to stop to avoid going to jail. Screw 0-60, I want to try 0-150! But I thought it would be impolite to get the seller’s car impounded. I MUST have this car… resistance is futile…
More to come…
#2
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well, I don't know what your other 3 posts were all about...but this intro qualifies as the absolute BEST 4th post ever!
Is your avatar a clue? I see Har d Back Sport seats.
Great intro, amusing read. Welcome to the madness, comes with equal to greater share of joy.
Is your avatar a clue? I see Har d Back Sport seats.
Great intro, amusing read. Welcome to the madness, comes with equal to greater share of joy.
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#6
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I usually welcome newbies wit the phrase "Welcome to the Madness", but I see that you are already MAD! Congrats. Subscribing to this thread, can't wait for chapter 2.
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#10
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This reminds me of the story I saw on CNN a few weeks ago about a guy writing a book (I think it was in NYC) but posted it for free page by page on telephone poles and around town. People read a new page every day and were loving it.
Great story so far... is that red 993 TT in your avatar the one you bought?
And, are you a writer? If not, you should be.
Great story so far... is that red 993 TT in your avatar the one you bought?
And, are you a writer? If not, you should be.
#11
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I had heard that the dash of the 993 was the same as thirty years ago. I thought they were kidding, but wow, they weren’t. For three decades I guess Porsche must have only had one guy working on the interior design, and he only came in for a couple of hours every other Tuesday. But I like it...
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