Apres Victory Lane

I wandered my way to the website of Otto's Venice today and found this picture of a Porsche 914 celebrating after a race. Otto's is a premier Porsche-only garage where race cars and their engines are fabricated. Although, since 1973, Otto has taken care of all types of Porsches in Porsche-rich Southern California, he seems to have an affinity for the 914-6, the much maligned mid-engined joint venture with Volkswagen. I've referred to "Porsche Purist Dicks" (see this post) before who simply insist that a Porsche isn't a Porsche unless it's air cooled and rear engined, unlike so many 944s (the much maligned joint venture with Audi), Boxsters, Caymans, 928s et cetera. And then there are guys like Otto, who seem to know better. He would much prefer to whip unholy ass on the track in his race-prepped 914-6 named "Rudy" then fill the front boot of his street car with ice and 1970s-era pull-top cans of Bud, and laugh about all the 911s he passed.

OnceWereBachelors Garage

I stumbled onto a site about custom garage makeovers called Garage Journal . It's pretty incredible. I'm hardly a gearhead, and although I've done some work on the Mid-Life Crisis, as well as on vintage Mustangs my father and I used to own, I've never spent much time in a garage (other than to set up some drums, a PA, and some guitar amps, but that's another story). After seeing some of the amazing garages some people have, a whole new world of possibilities opens up. Maybe I don't need a huge bank of Snap On tool chests or a hydraulic lift, but it sure would be nice to improve my garage. Maybe move all my guns and guitars from the closets inside to the walls out in the garage, change the lighting and ventilation. Put down a nice floor. Leave the Steve Steigman Blown Away poster right where it is. It could go from this:
To this:

I am inspired. Wasn't there a post about Bachelor Pads around here somewhere?

nb: The "after" image is of a garage belonging to a guy who posts on Garage Journal and Rennlist and goes by the handle "Sandoval". I don't have his permission to post it, so if he wants me to remove it all he needs to do is notify me and I will immediately oblige.

Ferrari: The Great Putdown

Yeah, I like red sports cars, so what?



Here's a clip I just got off of Jalopnik, one of the "non-porn sites that I frequent". It's not quite the legendary guerrilla filmmaking of Rendezvous, which depicts a hood-ornament's view of a Mercedes Benz 6.9 careening through the busying streets of early morning Paris. But that vintage video has passed from cult status into the mainstream (think mallrat: "I looove Rocky Horror Picture Show. No I haven't seen it in a theater but I own it on DVD.") I like this 8mm film, called "The Great Putdown", because it's less premeditated. It portrays two vintage Ferraris -- a California Spyder and GTO coupe, to be precise -- racing irreverently down Mulholland Drive. The narration is pretty good too.

This is from a time before Ferraris were accoutrements for the super-rich, when anybody who appreciated that kind of fun could realistically aspire to own one. Okay, maybe not anybody, but with a bit of focus and luck, you're in rosso corso, baby. From our modern perspective, it's hard to comprehend these two fine automobiles being treated this way when forty years later they would be multi-million dollar collectors items, but here it is for all to see.

For the record, though, I could do without the Steppenwolf. Blech.

Vintage Seiko Bullhead Chronograph

I like watches. I currently have about a dozen of them. One of my favorites is my brown Seiko 6138-0040 automatic chronograph. As you can see, its winding crown is at the 12 o'clock position, with the stopwatch pushers on either side, reminding one of a bull's horns. It is also asymmetrical, with it's case tapering in thickness from top to bottom. It is meant to be a driving watch, and this taper allows for easier viewing of the dial while your hands are on a steering wheel or shifter. At the time of its release, its chronograph movement, which was developed in house by Seiko, was state of the art. Today it still holds up extraordinarily well. I'm not certain but I believe this model, and its black-dialed sister, were available between the late sixties and mid seventies. It definitely has a vintage vibe, and I love wearing it, of course when I drive the Mid-Life Crisis.

I'm not particularly proud of my fascination with watches. It is quite frivolous, and despite my rationalizations that these automatic, self-winding timepieces are little works of engineering art on my wrist, I realize they're just jewelry. I have a box of jewelry.

Let me repeat for purposes of self-awareness: "I have a box of jewelry".

Hmm, that's not so easy to admit out loud.

*Top photograph was taken from this website. If this is your picture and I am violating your copyright by posting it here, please notify me and I will immediately remove it.

Mid-Life Crisis Anyone?

I turned 40 years old nine months ago and I haven't gotten any crankier than I was before, I haven't begun to get up ten times a night to pee, and I haven't begun to forget people's names (except for the inconsequential many who populate the background of my life). So how do I know I'm deep in the throes of a mid-life crisis? Three words: Little. Red. Porsche.



Yes, I bought a 1984 Porsche 944 sports car with a 150 horsepower, normally aspirated four cylinder engine, allegedly squeezing out a top speed in the 130 mph range. As much as I love my wife, son, and family, I find that this car occupies my waking thoughts quite frequently. I like to think of it as the car I only dreamed of owning back when it was new and I was a senior in high school, the car that Jake Ryan drove in Sixteen Candles, the car that Porsche Purist Dicks love to hate. It's a quick little piece of german engineering, that can turn in on any car and embarrass it in front of the popular girls, even cars twice its price, twice its horsepower, and half its age.

But I also recognize that it's a desperate attempt at bottling youthfulness. It also represents compromise, being cheap and able to transport a young son in an otherwise useless backseat. Moreso, this particular model has the less-desireable 3 dial dash with unattractive yellow gauges using Seventies technology. I have changed them out for better looking ones, but still it's a work in progress. Note the jokey tank commander goggles hanging from the mirror in this image; I'm trying not to take it seriously, yet I love it.



As the inaugural post of OnceWereBachelors, why is my car even here? Perhaps it's because lost bachelorhood is a desperate state of compromises where fatherhood is a work in progress. And you need to wear tank commander goggles to make it through the black smoke with a smile.