<![CDATA[f l ü s s i g m a g a z i n e - wort der woche]]>Sun, 22 Oct 2017 11:30:25 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[night drive: a playlist]]>Sun, 30 Apr 2017 19:58:46 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/night-drive-a-playlistShawn Stanford
I don't recall the bass line or the drum beat, but I remember the melody...

Back in the dark ages, an actual print magazine (remember those?) - probably 'Car&Driver' - asked readers to send in suggestions for music to listen to while driving. I don't remember any response but one, where some genius wrote in to say:

"Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side of the Moon' while driving at night between cities, very fast."
That letter, that thought, wedged itself into my brain like a splinter into a finger and stayed with me these many years since. It's perfect: The dark, brooding music a moody accompaniment to the throb of the motor and the sighing of the tires, crossing endless miles of black asphalt under an infinite canopy of stars, cruising the night highway like a shark through the ocean's shadowy depths, slicing through schools of cars swimming together for safety and jetting past lumbering trucks while leaving a sleek, muscular wake.

I have a Porsche 928 and I came of age in the early 80s. In my psyche the 928 is inescapably wrapped in music and the night and Rebecca De Mornay's thighs.
The door lifts, the lights flick on, the wide, sexy ass of a 928 emerges from the cocoon of a suburban garage, and the music is Jeff Beck's 'The Pump'. It's important to understand that 'Risky Business' didn't use 'The Pump'; it was the other way round. The movie simply put to film what was already in the music, written by Beck from the first note. You can feel it in the low, relentless beat and the pushing, throbbing bass line; in Beck's extended guitar notes stretching down the road, into the distance; reaching for the nearing puddle of light, the approaching curve, the waiting off ramp, the next big dot along the thick black line.

The lifting of that suburban garage door is an instant of creation; before it there was nothing, after it there was everything. The play list and our drive begin with Jeff Beck.
'Risky Business' is the cornerstone of all that is the imagery and sound of the 928, it is the apogee of music and mood for Porsche as a make. The 911 is a creature of light and trees and green hills and summer breezes; it is a denizen of dusty roads and muddy rally stages and the long, screaming straights of Le Mans and Sebring. Its song is varied and raucous and always upbeat. But the 928 sings the low, deep, sensual, enticingly menacing croon of the jazz club torch singer.

But this music, this mood, this spirit, this night run across the dark coursing blood-hot asphalt of America would never have happened if Lapine and Möbius hadn't immaculately conceived the 928 with inspired, mystical sex magic and thrust the Stuttgart Shark unto the world. And like the act of love with a beautiful partner, the 928 only reaches everything it promises in the night, when scenery disappears and vision narrows into the tunnel of the headlights and everything else falls away, when what you touch with your hands and feel on your skin is the focus of your entire existence.

"...the 928 only reaches everything it promises in the night, when scenery disappears and vision narrows into the tunnel of the headlights and everything else falls away..."

Music, music for a mood and a machine. The soundtrack of 'Risky Business' is a soundtrack for the night, a soundtrack for machines. Sure, Muddy Waters and Prince and of course Bob Seeger, but that music wasn't about the machine, and it didn't set the mood for the movie. These were distractions, mere sideshows, three-minute cartoons to keep the kids occupied while the adults waited for the real show to start.

Phil Collins, though. But not here. Unfortunately 'In The Air Tonight' didn't reach its full potential for our theme of night and machine for another few years, and not with a Porsche 928 on a Chicago night, but with a Ferrari Daytona on a Miami night.

But, yeah, put that on the list.
But Collins' dark ode to an approaching reckoning wasn't the climactic moment in 'Risky Business'. It was the lead in, the buildup, the flirtatious dinner in the dimly lit restaurant, the moist, gasping, probing French kissing in the cab and lobby and elevator on the way to the apartment; the last on-ramp on the highway leading out of the city and into the night.

"Have you ever made love on a real train?" Lana asks Joel. He hasn't, but he will; and we will be part of that moment of music and machine as the electronic sex of Tangerine Dream's ‘Love On A Real Train’ reaches its peak, as 'Risky Business' reaches its peak, as Joel and Lana reach theirs, and the train throws sparks and chases dreams through the Chicago night. Add that to the list.
It can't possibly be more fitting that our German car has a soundtrack by a German music collective, Tangerine Dream, one of pioneers and popularizers of electronic music in the 70s and 80s. Tapped for many soundtracks and none of them were rom-coms: 'Firestarter', 'Near Dark', 'Legend', and, still going strong and in perfect synch with our theme, the soundtrack for 'Grand Theft Auto V'. But 'Sorcerer', good lord, 'Sorcerer'; a film about a drive through the dark spaces between pools of light, based on the French film 'The Wages of Fear' and brilliantly adapted for America by William Friedkin, he of 'The Exorcist', 'The French Connection', 'Cruising', and 'To Live And Die in L.A.'. See 'Sorcerer', if you have not, and imagine our drive diving through dense South American jungles, and Tangerine Dream is pushing us toward a rendezvous we don't want, yet can't avoid.

“Betrayal’ (Sorcerer Theme), by Tangerine Dream. Check.
How far will our night drive take us? Across worlds: from Germany to Japan and from film to animation, where we discover an accompaniment from 'The Ghost In The Shell', and we'll consider the meaning of 'man' and 'machine' and the vast separation and intimate blending of the twain, even as we blend with our own machine. And Kenji Kawai's soundtrack is deep and brilliant and spare, trimmed with a scalpel. And we fill the gulfs between the notes with what is inside ourselves even as we fill the gulfs between the cities with our machine.

And we'll add 'The Making of a Cyborg’.
Now we move further: further down the dark ribbon, further toward the midpoint between cities, the midpoint between leaving and arriving. And at this moment, Aram Khachaturian's 'Gayane Ballet Suite (Adagio)' is perfectly Soviet: low, sad, haunting, tragic; Kubrick used it in ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ to evoke the vast space between the stars, and between the living and the dead. We use it to evoke the night's small, small hours on the empty roads between the cities. If this doesn't move you, you're dead inside.
Rock and roll isn’t the music of the 928, but sometimes even rock and roll bands hit the tone of ‘between cities, very fast’, even if that tone was produced by the strange fusion of blues and rock and disco that was the Rolling Stones in the 70s. A sensuous bass line and a slow groove and a message of longing, ‘Miss You’ makes the list.
The Doors were nothing if not dark and sexual, behind Jim Morrison’s growling baritone, wild mane of hair, and tight leather jeans. If an album of theirs speaks of the night drive, it’s their first, with tracks such as ‘Break On Through’, ‘The Crystal Ship’, and ‘The End’. But the track we want to add is the singular ‘Riders On The Storm’, a perfect whispering lament on our drive down that night highway.
‘The Low Spark Of High Heeled Boys’ by Traffic with Steve Winwood at the mic slides and teases its way into your ear, before settling to lay down some serious road mojo in D Minor. Like the road before us, it seems to meander, but it relentlessly and stealthily drives to its finish, arriving before you realize it, and the song’s final note rings like the scream of a motor in the distance
We’re driving ‘between cities, very fast’, and there’s a destination, a place to be, someone to be with, for what other reason could there be for this drive? Joel’s shenanigans in ‘Risky Business’ aside, the 928 is not a joy riding car; it’s a tool, a road weapon designed to destroy distance and crush time. We are crossing the empty gulfs of night between the glowing cities to reach something, or someone. And as pleasurable as the drive is, the pleasure of the arrival is the reward. Donald Fagen’s little-know gem ‘True Companion’, with its liquid, jazz-based melody and the short, loaded lyric, expresses distance and longing and the emptiness between the stars, and the final line says everything that needs to be said here: “I’ve been dreaming of my own green world, far across the reach of space time.” 
At the penultimate moment, we return to the initial moment and that unknown worthy who wrote in to C&D, and because it is brilliant and perfect, we add ‘Speak To Me’ and ‘Breathe’.
Our night drive must end as must any night of heat and seduction and fulfillment which is ruled by the power at the root of the spine or under the right foot. The sun will rise and reveal the wide world where before there was just our tunneled headlight vision, and the world is a beautiful and wondrous place. And ultimately the 928 is electronic music; the music of the future for the car of the future. Neither owes anything to what came before, standing alone, pushing boundaries, breaking traditions, seducing with novelty as well as raw appeal. Our playlist ends with ‘Heaven and Hell’, by Vangellis as the sun rises, but the road still stretching ahead and the machine ready for the day, and, eventually, for another night.
And here we are, the car off, the engine ticking, our ears filled by silence where the throb of the motor and our music for the road were a short time before, the moat of light around the city breached, the off ramp reached, our night drive complete. The keys come out with their metallic click and we pat the dash and as we step out, we leave the embrace of the seat and look back upon the ripe curves like leaving a lover after a night of passion shared; knowing that it is time to go, for we are spent, but knowing also that we will be back.
Playlist Tracks:

●       ‘The Pump’ – Jeff Beck

●       ‘In The Air Tonight’ – Phil Collins

●       ‘Love On A Real Train’ – Tangerine Dream

●       ‘Betrayal (Sorcerer Theme)’ – Tangerine Dream

●       ‘The Making Of A Cyborg’ – Kenji Kawai

●       ‘Gayane Ballet Suite (Adagio)’ – Aram Khachaturian

●       ‘Miss You’ – The Rolling Stones

●       ‘Riders On The Storm’ – The Doors

●       ‘The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys’ – Traffic

●       ‘True Companion’ – Donald Fagen

●       ‘Speak To Me/Breathe (In The Air)’ – Pink Floyd

●       ‘Heaven And Hell’ – Vangelis



*Below is a link to the night drive playlist:
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<![CDATA[frustration, joy, knowledge, and suicidal Mondays]]>Fri, 13 Jan 2017 00:14:29 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/frustration-joy-knowledge-and-suicidal-mondaysStig Bjerke
"So you're a young car enthusiast and you want a classic sports car, something you can drive everyday, but you don't wanna spend a metric fuck-ton of money? Well, you're in luck! I 've got just the ride for you; a watercooled, front-engined Porsche — specifically, a 944. 

Nope, it doesn't have an engine out of a VW van, it's a proper, bona fide Porsche — and there's a bunch of models to chose from."
That's what some part of my brain has been screaming for what seems an eternity. 

And with good reason. These cars look great, handle well, and can be pretty quick when putting it through its paces on twisty roads. When you want a car that does it all, the choice seems logical — at least on paper. 

When looking at these you've got options which may seem confusing at first. You got the bog-standard model, which is in two different flavors, the S version with a 16 valve cylinder head, an S2 version which is better all around with 16 valves and 3,0 liters, and the Turbo, which needs no explanation. Whichever you choose, you'll know pretty quick that these cars, while cool, fun and great, can be an absolute fucking plague. 

But, let's all be honest here, this is a sports car from Germany made in the eighties. The fact that they've been dirt cheap for years does not help the situation. Sure, you can find a pristine, low-mileage one and just drive around like the capitalistic imperialist you are,but where's the fun in that? The odds are stacked against your youth, however, because you most likely can't afford the best ones just yet. Sadly, 944s have been lumped into the “Porsche investment bubble” that air-cooled 911's brought down upon us; what was once affordable has become out of reach almost overnight.
Now, do not get me wrong, I love these cars; hell, I've had three. Well, two '44s and a 968, which is the model that replaced the S2. I love how they look, I love how they drive, and I love the community. These cars stir four of the five senses to the brink of emotional overload; but with that comes frustration when things go wrong — more on that  later. 

As a young car enthusiast, a car like this is a great way to get into classic cars. You'll not only get to know a lot of people, you'll also learn how to wrench; or at least freshen up your skills. If you're young, chances are you can't afford to drive it into a Porsche workshop and just leave it there to get serviced. You'll find yourself lurking on forums, ebay, facebook groups and every type of website dedicated to these cars. 

Then you'll start making “want to buy” posts, comment on ads and get to know all the closest “wreckers," which, by the way, all seem to be located in England. I must have bought over 100 parts from the queen's backyard; the queen probably gets a cut in on the second-hand 944 parts business...but I'm digressing.

"35 hours, or days, later, you have that fucker of a transmission back in — but now you've broken the sender unit for the speedometer."

While you're looking for parts. You'll also be looking at FAQs, DIY guides and workshop manuals trying to figure out this German artifact — and these will save your ass, not only once, not only twice, but a lot. 

Though this is normal for an old car, the 944 will require much more of this. I have an example. 

I was replacing the shifter linkage and the transmission mount on my S2; seems like a straight forward job, right? Drop the tranny, change all the stuff, and offer it up to the car again. But there's a catch because this car is the creation of some mad German scientist, which means nothing can or will ever be easy. 

Now you realize that you gotta take off the driveshafts, drop the fuel filter, cuss at a broken bolt and bla bla bla. 35 hours, or days, later, you have that fucker of a transmission back in. But not before you've broken the sender unit for the speedometer. So what do you do? You source a new one and quickly make the realization that 2 kilos of Pablo Escobar's finest vintage stock of cocaine must come with it; you might assume that when you see the price. Since this isn't the eighties, you've already been in contact with some dude in England and bought the used version of that part.

But, does it stop here? No, of course not — this is only the beginning! 
Let that hate flow through you, young padwan. Feel the dark side of the automotive rage! 

The speedo STILL doesn't fucking work! 

This is the frustration I mentioned earlier — and it will happen to you...mark my words. But fear not! There's a whole community of folks happy to help. For me, the logical choice was the guys here at flüssig; specifically our Facebook group chat, which is mostly full of shenanigans, memes and el jefe sharing secret awesomeness; no I'll not tell you what, but it's awesome.

Well, there I was, talking to the fine gentlemen of this establishment, and between all of Leo's memes, we actually started to figure out what could be wrong. But don't get it wrong; just thinking you might know how to fix it isn't enough. Never mind that it's after midnight and this young lad should have been in bed, I was commited to figiure this thing out. So, I did the only sensible thing I could do; I went out into the garage, and got under the car with my phone. 

For an hour or so, we troubleshooted over facebook using pictures, memes and foul language. The only thing missing was some empty beer cans to shoot at, a couple cases full of alcoholic beverages and a neighbour cooking meth in his trailer; luckily this isn't some rural trailer park. After taking off the axles, stubs, and getting my hands full of lovely-smelling gear oil, we got that speedo to work — a test drive somewhere between 3 and 4 AM confirmed it.

The next day, after much bullshit, the car was back in order again.
That was a little insight into owning an old 944. 

It will bring you joy on the good days, it will be a lot of fun, you'll meet cool people, and maybe even learn a few things. But it'll make you wanna put a .45 slug into your dome while jumping in front of a train after you've done more drugs than Hunter S. Thompson. 

Luckily the frustration is only temporarily as the joy of working it out, and of course driving the car, makes it a fuzzy-drunk memory. So my advice to you all is this; if you're into cars, go get one of these. Be mad at it, have fun with it and learn how to fix it. Future projects might seem easier, and you might even end up with that perfect sports car you've always wanted. Either way, you'll end up in a good place — unless, of course, you're thinking logically and financially. But what young car enthusiast do?

Choose life, buy a 944. And as always, stay safe! Use a condom, always drive safely, and exercise proper shop safety when working on your car!

Have a great 2017!
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<![CDATA[I've been a bad boy]]>Sun, 06 Nov 2016 22:45:35 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/ive-been-a-bad-boyRob Turner
I have been a bad boy. It’s been so long since I have put finger to keyboard for something other than a business email, market positioning statement, something related to the buying and selling of a house or working tirelessly to get a recent college graduate his first job that I barely remember what I should be writing about. Oh yeah…cars or something.

Or something. 
Psssst…don’t tell the PCA but I am Porsche-less. Just renewed my membership too. But it was before the aforementioned Porsche-less part. Just traded in our 2005 Cayenne V6 on a 2015 Jeep Cherokee. Fact is, being Two Thousand dollar’ed to death got really old. It seemed that every time I filled it up with premium gas, that beautiful Lapis Blue 955 (or Porsche Code for Cayenne) broke something or the other. Yeah, something or the other - like all the time. I had thousands of unintended dollars in that damn beautiful Lapis Blue thing.

It got so bad, my local shop (who I have been incredibly loyal too and has been incredibly loyal to me) took pity on me and actually did some free stuff to it in order to help me sell it. Yeah even they felt bad that the beautiful damn Lapis Blue thing-a-ma-bob kept breaking down. So just to reiterate I traded in the beautiful Lapis damn Blue 4-wheeled excuse for a Porsche. Good riddance I say!

"I am not too picky on colors, but no Green, Purple or Burgundy variations."

So what is it like being Porsche-less? Well…it feels strange. You know…Porsche-less. Does that mean I will sell my Mini Cooper GP? Nope. But it does means that I will be thinking about what my next Porsche will be. Fact is, I think about it all the time. But being Porsche-less, I have a bit of freedom about my next automotive purchase. It means I could go Mustang GT350 or maybe Jaguar Type F. You know, the one with the REALLY LOUD EXHAUST. Or how about an Audi R8 or maybe a Corvette C7 Z06? I have a thing for really loud V8 motors. But who doesn’t? 
But those all seem slightly unobtainable. Really if I am frank with myself, those would have to wait until I get my youngest out of college. So How Soon is NOW (sorry bad The Smiths reference)? Well I will not “go to a club on my own, leave on my own, go home and cry and want to die” (sorry more The Smith’s reference). Actually I figure I could swing something less expensive, less blingy - something very 968 like. So thanks to YouTube I recently watched all the bad 90’s reviews from the likes of Clarkson (he liked the Nis-San 300 zed better) and Motor Authority (they liked it well enough) along with a 968CS taking on the Nurburgring (it seemed pretty slow compared to more modern cars). But I still like it. I still want one. And of course it opened up an extra-large can of nostalgia. I regret selling the 1993 Slate Gray 968 several years ago. Wish I still had it. The guy that bought it (from some place in FL) got a great deal on a great car. Fact is I sell most of my Porsches way before their time. Except for the damn Cayenne.

So I have been looking. Waiting for the perfect 968 to come available. It would have to be a Coupe with 6-Speed, M030, 220, 383 and 387. Yeah just the basics. I am not too picky on colors, but no Green, Purple or Burgundy variations. Yeah a 968 just feels right. And I am sure if you are reading this you will probably agree too.  Fact is, I do not want to stay Porsche-less too long. My wife may get used to it. 

And on that exhaust note, I better get back to my 968 search. See ya!
Picture
Robert Turner is the author of The Driver, a series of six novels your editor in chief finds intoxicatingly engaging and superbly written; Book I— Decision and Book II— Training are currently available hereHe also has a blog entitled My Life with Porsches. Robert can be contacted at pcarfan@gmail.com.

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<![CDATA[I took a pill in Austria...]]>Thu, 02 Jun 2016 23:31:46 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/i-took-a-pill-in-austriabert bouwknegt
took a pill in Austria
To show Mozart I was cool
And when I finally got sober, felt 10 years older
But fuck it, it was something to do
I'm living out in Holland
I drive a Porsche just to prove
I'm a real big baller cause I made a few dollars
And I spend it on wheels and shoes

Lyrics based on: Mike Posner’s "I took a pill in Ibiza"
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<![CDATA[time machine]]>Fri, 29 Apr 2016 00:21:30 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/time-machineel jefe
Eyes as fresh 
as when she was 
sprung 
from the factory's gates. 

Every book, 
every tag, 
every single piece of paper is 
intact 
and looking as if freshly printed. 

If you punched 1983 into your 
imaginary time travel 
machine's keyboard and asked to be 
taken to Continental Imports in Joplin, 
Missouri 
to see this 928, 
your time would've been 
wasted.

*photography by Clint Davis ©
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<![CDATA[chocolate love]]>Sat, 23 Apr 2016 12:22:49 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/chocolate-loveel jefe
warm chocolate invites you 
to ease into her taut leather seat, 
hook your left thumb around 
the steering wheel's spoke, 
and rest the palm of your right hand on 
the shift knob. 

when was the last time you 
remembered what the ridges of the threads 
holding the hides together 
felt like? 
had memory robbed what unworn leather 
felt like? 

the eyes take snapshots of the 
speedometer, 
rear window defogger knob, 
radio, 
the embroidered Porsche script on the 
passenger side floor mat. 

as the fingertips of your hand 
slides across the dash in 
disbelief, 
you realize two things; 
your sense of taste is being 
cheated 
and your sense of 
hearing 
is about to be 
seduced. 


*photography by Clint Davis ©
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<![CDATA[Wilson — part 1]]>Wed, 13 Apr 2016 00:31:00 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/wilson-part-1Noah Walt
Wilson, the well used and some times abused naturally aspirated 944 is in the shop for some mods and as a correspondent of flüssig magazine I gotta write about something… might as well write about what I love.

Join me in the following interview.
flüssig: 
What is Wilson?

Noah: 
Originally he was a “dual purpose street legal road & track car”… inspired by a builder from New Jersey, Jason Gonzalez and also designer Magnus Walker from Cali. Since then he has been re-categorized into an all-purpose car, because of his abilities off pavement.

He’s essentially a lightweight, simple car that can be hammered on all day (like Porsches were intended to be). So reliability is key. But removal of non-essentials, and add a few safety items. Less “family car” and more “race car”.

I want to feel a particular feeling the moment I sit in the driver’s seat. And that is exactly what happens. The second you contort your body into the racing bucket and behind the steering wheel… it’s all business. Stiff brakes, stiff steering, stiff short throw shifter, stiff park brake, stiff seat.

flüssig: 
Keep going.

Noah:
Ok. In a normal 944 you have an arm-rest on the door and on the console. Not in Wilson. So you are forced to drive with both hands on the wheel. Which is a good thing because he’s got de-powered steering. And if you catch a rut the wrong way, you’ll loose control of the wheel.

Carpet and sound deadening deleted. Power items removed. Stereo delete.

Took it from running 4 belts on the engine to 2. And without the flip up headlights, access under the bonnet is vastly improved. Cat delete, lightweight exhaust. The car is 2500 lbs without the passenger seat & half a tank of gas, but still retains the heater & you’ll have to pull the A/C out of my cold dead hands. Maybe I’ll replace the glass & steel panels with lighter weight body panels one day. Probably.

The model 944 makes an incredible touring car! I want to drive this thing for many hours and the next day go to a driving event and then drive home. No trailers - in the spirit of the older R Gruppe cars. Is the car loud? Yeah, after 3 hours of driving I might put ear-plugs in. I keep a baggy of new ear-plugs in the glove compartment for my partner and me if desired. But I gotta say the exhaust sounds really good right now with some low end rumble. 

Here’s a taste: 
Because of the way I drive the car, the fuel economy of the 4 banger with the larger late model fuel tank is well suited to this use. I recently returned to the factory 160 hp set up vs the 200 hp I was running. But that’s another conversation.
flüssig:
What else:

Noah: 
Ok, since I’m on a budget but need new dampeners I recently converted brand new early 944 Sachs struts to fit the late model spindles. And just bought Sachs late model rears.

flüssig: 
Why?

Noah: 
Because late struts lock you in a corner begging to get out. Early has removable internal shocks… what do you want man? Bilstein? Koni? Sachs? Just replace them and voilà!! Whereas late model, not easy, not inexpensive to simply replace front struts or upgrade the dampeners. So I said a big FUCK YOU and ordered up a set and compared the two. I was going to cut the tops off and weld them onto late bodies but in the end I made shims and enlarged the upper holes. Will it be ok? We’ll find out soon enough.

Still don’t know long term what I want to do for suspension, so factory is what I bring to the table.

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<![CDATA[gramp's poem]]>Thu, 07 Apr 2016 21:58:42 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/gramps-poemNoah Walt
Nothing wrong with me

Take your conversions elsewhere

I was cool and really doing it before you came along

With all your bright ideas


So fuck you and your 5 lug hubs.
…and remove that stereo and those subs.

Please disrobe me of your…ungodly seat covers,
Your steering wheel covers,
and your steel wheel covers.

I don’t need any help in the looks department
Thank you very much.
Was doing just fine before your personal touch.

Geez, everyone’s talking about 5 speed conversions
And everyone says you need to lower your suspension
And everyone thinks I need to up the compression
And the… never mind.
It’s all obsession.
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<![CDATA[track days — a new infatuation]]>Thu, 07 Apr 2016 15:57:56 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/track-days-a-new-infatuationJoão Silva
Everybody has their own way of loving Porsches. Mine? Track days!

From the start, Porsches were designed to be sports cars that you can use daily. That means they’re built to play rough and to be driven fast aggressive. They aren’t the best sports cars in the world or make the best daily drivers, but when it comes to enjoying two different sides of the moon, they can’t be beat. The 911, Boxster, Cayenne…all of them share this DNA from the first sketch.

So after getting my first Porsche, a 944 NA, and bringing it back to life, I began getting serious about looking for what would be my first track day experience. As it happened, the local Porsche Club was planning one. What better place to make our debut than being surrendered by all his family?
I wasn’t prepared.

The only racing experience I had was in the virtual world; driving simulators don’t really qualify as an all-out experience, does it? But here I was. With any luck, a partner would accompany me in the passenger seat to watch my form and help improve my technique…and bring a fire extinguisher; just in case. A few minutes before going out in to the circuit, an experienced instructor volunteered to ride shotgun—BRAVE MAN!!!! 
Determination, loads of passion, and enthusiasm make up for my lack of driving skills; no problem, the latter can be learned. Well, at least I have the right ingredients; the latin approach to driving! We believe, have faith, you know? But we don’t calculate – maybe this explains way so many have died! Since then, every time I get on the track, my new co-driver is always invited with all expenses covered; that means lunch!   

"It’s amazing how a 31 year old car, all stock, could handle all my mistakes while being pushed near its limits."

I thought it was easy, it isn’t. The mindset has to be totally different, retrained almost. When to shift, when to downshift, braking hard and at the same time conserving the brakes, abusing the tires but realizing they aren’t suited for racing, looking for other cars, listening to the co-driver…you get the idea. But in the end, after what seems like a crash course, the experience is incredible! It’s amazing how a 31 year old car, all stock, could handle all my mistakes while being pushed near its limits. It’s only a 20/25 minute drive and a few laps but everything made sense — I wanted more! Track days are like hunting or fishing …the stories about the experience tend to be overly embellished sounding a little more exciting than they really were. 
I went to other track days, not always with my car, sometimes just to watch, sometimes as a co-driver (ai,ai,ai!!!) and every single time was a blast! Now I’m looking towards broadening my horizon by looking to try different tracks, and make small modifications to the 944 like steel brake hoses and possibly a proper set of tyres.

I look at a track day as running against myself. Each lap finds me pushing not only my limits, but also getting to know the 944’s capabilities, and honoring the people who designed and built it.  I must admit, I have this selfish habit of going to the track to watch the others from a safe distance observing their techniques; a lot can be learned this way.

It’s like living this legendary life, kind of like a Portuguese James Dean…yes, yes; I like the sound of that! 
In a grander sense, the people are great, the cars are great…but the food sucks! There should be a fine for that! “I’m sorry Sir, but you’ve violated every culinary law known to man by serving this slop!”    

Now that I’m more experienced and confident, I can have family and friends as co-drivers. The first will be my father; sharing an experience of a lifetime with him has special meaning to me…a brand new set of Toyo R888 will help for sure.

What’ll I do on my off days, then, if not scrubbing rubber ‘round the turns? I can just enjoy them; take the kids to the park, fetch groceries, take a drive with my wife, attend Porsche gatherings, Classic Car events; any excuse to hop in the 944 and get to know it that much better.

So go on and enjoy your car…and do it however you please! 
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<![CDATA[mulsanne straight]]>Thu, 07 Apr 2016 12:05:53 GMThttp://flussigmagazine.com/wort-der-woche/mulsanne-straightel jefe
the Dunlops roared over the
rumble strips
on the right
then the left
out of third, into fourth
through the kink
the Tertre Rouge spit
the 924 out into the longest
minute and 25 seconds.

she begs for
fifth,
fifth 
begs for Ligne Droite des Hunaudières

checking the gauges
adjusting the posture
stretching the thumbs
the scent of her blond curls
more intense than her grip,
than her nails digging into to my shoulders
as her thrusts meet mine…

muscles tighten
the café
the group of trees
the little hump before the
Mulsanne kink
will be the only warning
tonight.


image: Mulsanne Straight 1971 #2

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