story and photo by jenny funkmeyer

Glorious was the hot, sunny day in 1979 I drove into the Beverly Hills Porsche dealership in my VW Rabbit and drove out in a brand spanking new Porsche 928. I was 26 and full of confidence, with swollen pockets from running a successful advertising company. When the salesman handed me the car key, I distinctly felt my hand and the key magnetically pull toward one another; we were destined to be attached at the hip for the next 25 years.
His color was a smooth creamy light gold color, factory-coded as “Casablanca Gold Metallic”. I named him “Lord Fok” after a type of wild Mongolian horse with that name. I sat low into the Recaro seat, designed by the legendary German company. The door made the sound of a bank vault as it closed. Firing up Lord Fok was like a thunderous explosion. Once running, he purred like a cat, shaking excitedly. The car immediately let me know it was a “he” and pledged his eternal allegiance to be my loyal servant. He promised to give nothing but his very best to serve and protect me forever. He did not once renege!

"At the next set of lights, I cheated by shooting the driver a tantalizing smile just before it changed and left him choking in the dust."

Under the hood his heart was a 4.7-liter V-8 displaying the Porsche emblem based on the coat of arms of the Free People’s State of Württemberg. He was built in Stuttgart, the capital of former Weimar Germany. When his heart was twisting at 5,900 rotations per minute he had the power of 295 horses!! A smelly crowd of 295 horses had been reincarnated into a beautiful silver box with a dull matte sheen. How magical?! He can go from a complete stand-still to wildly galloping at 60 miles per hour in a startling 4.2 seconds. He was one of the fastest factory produced mechanical warriors of his day. I was the first car off the line at every traffic stop until one day I was unexpectedly blown away by a souped up Corvette. At the next set of lights, I cheated by shooting the driver a tantalizing smile just before it changed and left him choking in the dust.

Everyday I owned him I knew what “excellence” meant. He inspired me to never be less than the best I can be. We communicated easily, I heard him and he knew me better than I knew myself. We were different species and co-creative partners in this physical reality.
It was a rainy day at 4:45 and there were three things I had to do before 5pm. My mind moved at a million miles per hour in a million different directions in those days. If only I had found Ram Dass and his “Be Here Now” ethos earlier! I came to a stop and did a quick “California rolling stop” – just slowed down enough to 2nd gear without fully stopping. I sailed into the intersection and the next thing I knew…

In slo-mo. The passenger door caved in with a cracking sound and the passenger seat folded up like an accordion. The strange thing was that the combined mixture of a door and a seat moved towards my hand which was resting on the gear shift. I took my hand off the stick and the thing came just an inch from touching my hand. I felt a rolling sensation and looked up into the rear view mirror. The huge hatch-back section came rolling in like a wave taking the two tiny rear passenger seats with it. I remember thinking, “Thank God the babies were not in those seats.” Next thing I knew, the concrete face of a building moved into the entire front of the car. No sound; just a lot of smoke. I sat stunned looking out the windshield then crack crack crack! The entire windshield broke into a beautifully formed spider web.

"Everyday I drove him he reminded me through the sound of his engine and the quality of his spirit to be more patient."

It was all my fault… I went into the intersection without stopping to check, an oncoming car T-boned me, spun me around and hit me in the rear. I was then pushed me into the building and the tree that fell on the windshield was the cherry on top.

Someone came up to the driver side, peeking in to check. I pressed the button and the window came down, “Are you… uh… Okay?” I nodded, the fresh rain wet my face, so I pressed the button and the window came up like a silk curtain again. All three sides of the car were destroyed except for where I sat.

Lord Fok took the hit for my anxious, mindless rushing around. He stayed in the hospital for one year. When he came home he was not quite the same again. He was older, more cautious. Everyday I drove him he reminded me through the sound of his engine and the quality of his spirit to be more patient. His NDE (near death experience) taught me to stay alert. But his subsequent death taught me a lesson that was even more profound.
The horrific accident had come on the heels of numerous speeding tickets already on my driving record. My driving “privilege” was limited to daylight hours to and from work. The insurance payment on top of the car payments was astronomical. I ran out of money to keep the car.

On another rainy day, I drove Lord Fok back to Beverly Hills Porsche to sell him. I cried and I felt the car crying with me. My car was constructed with the finest craftsmanship and I was convinced that I was a worthy owner. We had made a pact till death do us part and I was about to chicken out. Suddenly, on the way there, Lord Fok’s engine died. His mechanical heart had stopped. As I waited for the tow truck I decided at that moment that I must keep him. I will not chicken out! I will not be defeated!

How does a person own a very expensive, very fast car without money and without driving too fast? This is the same kind of paradoxical question they are always talking about with trees falling in forests… I was being asked to solve the age old problem of how one has their cake and eats it too! There seemed to be no way to make the situation work but I knew that I must find the way.
We live in a world of duality. Unifying our dual nature back into one is the path home and the ultimate purpose of life journey. We are twos and home is one. We are the one God who split up into many, for fun, for joy, for the thrill of a new game, a game we call physical reality. My Casablanca Gold Metallic steer named Lord Fok came into my life to teach me how I can have my cake and eat it too, how I can return home.

With regards to money, my firm decision that I would keep Lord Fok come what may turned out to be exactly the thing God needed from me. From that point forward, God always provided enough to make the payments. Before I knew it, that one fine day came after seven long years and suddenly I had paid off the car. I promptly stopped buying comp and collision insurance and managed to cut my insurance payments by half. I used my energetic force field to keep the car safe and it’s a technique that has never failed me. As an aside, I also learned never to finance cars! If the car is not financed, you can elect to take the risk yourself and hence don’t need to buy full insurance. And while I’m here giving out life advice, one more tip for good measure. In the first few years of your car or house loan pay a little extra toward principal each month and you can cut the length of the loan by half. Wisdom from Jenny!

For the next 20 years, Lord Fok and I became partners-in-crime. We still loved to drive very fast. He was built to move fast as lightning and I was primed to put him to the test. Interestingly, we never got another speeding ticket. It was as though I had learned the lesson of speeding and didn’t need any more tickets. We’d be out racing with several cars on the freeway and suddenly I’d feel my intuition nudge me to drop out of the race. The other cars would leave us in the dust but shortly after I’d sail by those other cars getting ticketed by the police. We would laugh our hearts out about that! This same scenario happened time and time again.

"...I at one time collected 12 speeding tickets in 6 months."

On sunny Sunday drives on the Pacific Coast Highway, Solvang to San Luis Obispo to Big Sur, I at one time collected 12 speeding tickets in 6 months. Now, Lord Fok and I would hit 120 going up a hill on the open road and then cruise slowly into town in neutral. Eyes open, mind alert, I was an old warrior on my royal steer.

As the years rolled along, and especially after the accident, Lord Fok’s health began to decline. It took a lot of tweaking to get him back to good health and he went out of whack easily, like an old football player with bad knees. Parts and services were very expensive, with every little tweak costing thousands of dollars. I hit another dry spell with cash flow and Lord Fok fell into disrepair, sitting in the driveway. A newer, more fuel efficient car appeared in my life and that was that. The years rushed by and Lord Fok became the children’s playhouse.

Then one year, Spring cleaning came along and I sighed to myself. The time had come. I was a different person with a different mindset. I wanted my life to be new. I no longer wanted to be dragged down by old memories. I began by tossing things I had not used in the last year.

Bad memories are easy to get rid of. Who wants to keep bad memories? But fond memories, now that’s tricky. If I don’t clear out the old I can not truly have the new. Sometimes the baby has to be thrown out with the bath water. I tossed and turned in bed but finally put my foot down and decided it’s time to say goodbye.

The best offer for the car came from a dealership in Anaheim, about 30 miles south of my home. I sat inside Old Lord Fok, ready to bid my farewell. Mike Cook, the faithful car surgeon who took care of him from day one, came over and tweaked the old guy enough to get him to start up and off I went onto the freeway.

"He was burned beyond salvage."

The 405 freeway on a weekday was in no way free. It was more like a parking lot. I distinctly felt Lord Fok complaining again, just as he had over 20 years ago when I was about to sell him back to the dealership. “What happened to till death do we part?!?” he roared. I explained to him at length, the fuel concerns, the repair bills, the changing of my worldview… All of it was to no avail. “You’re reneging on your promise!” he growled. He was mad at me. I was feeling very sad and very hot, stuck in the car in a huge traffic jam.

Suddenly Lord Fok began to throw out plumes of black smoke. The entire freeway stopped as I coasted the car to the nearest offramp. I jumped out of the car and he burst into flames. The fire trucks came and put out the fire. He was burned beyond salvage.

He committed suicide but waited until I was safely outside. Later I realized that I had actually exited on the correct offramp. Amazingly, I was only blocks from the dealership that was to buy him from me. He had fulfilled my final request.

From that day on I have been forever convinced that machines have souls. I talk to my cars, to my bicycle, my oven, my sewing machine and I do my best to always be sensitive to the emotions of the machines. I can feel whether the machines in a person’s house or in a factory are sad or happy. I can hear the machines telling me their stories. This helps especially when I’m buying something used, like from Craigslist. I ask, “Have you been abused?” Sometimes I get such strong responses that I am forced to quiet the machine. To shut off the voice is not difficult; I need only to will it so. The machines, like most plants animals, are usually very willing to communicate. I think they don’t come across human beings willing to listen very often.

When something goes wrong with my machines I ask what’s wrong and I usually get an answer right away. I intuitively begin to feel what the problem is. I can fix minor and sometimes major problems with my intention and energy alone. I clear my mind and dip into meditation, sending a request for the problem to go away. Then I give it some time to fix itself. Usually when I use the machine again the problem is gone.

Understanding that machines can communicate, that they have feelings, wants and desires, was a gift given to me by my sweet Lord Fok, may he rest in peace. How strange, how magical that a car would help begin the process of waking me up to the fact that everything is consciousness, everything is alive, everything is one, everything is me. I can hear you now Lord Fok, rumbling up the PCH with your fat body low to the ground, tires clinging to the road, as we hit 120…

afterword by pablo deferrari

Jenny and Otis Funkmeyer are two peas in a pod reminding me very much of John and Yoko. I had such fun perusing their website and realized, after reading their bios, that Jenny and Otis, are kindred spirits to Diane and myself.

I found her 928 story to be profound, as if it was worming its way to my soul, but also light-hearted. This is the sort of tale that makes you stop what you're doing, walk over to your car, gently place your hand on the roof, and enjoy a zen-like moment with the machine that helps create everlasting memories.

It has a soul and there's no other car like yours in the world.

Please check out their site and drop them a line...they'd love to hear from you.



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