words and photos by pablo deferrari

in a few moments from now, one of the most insipid pieces of writing I’ve produced will magically appear in people’s in-boxes from the Porsche Club of America’s weekly email newsletter, E-Brake.

I don’t know how this happened; at this point all I can take solace in is that every writer goes through this sort of thing. well, I dunno, what can you do?
it wasn’t the subject matter, in fact, the two characters in my story have enough charisma to make a mediocre writer sound good…without trying. maybe my ingredients were too good and my confidence on creating a killer piece got the better of me. I suppose I work better when there’s a scant amount of spices, vegetables, and whatever remnants are lurking about in the fridge. why am I going on about this?

it has a lot to do with the guy we met at a roadside cafe today, Richard.

my wife and I were buzzing down this road in the 911 flanked by woods and quaint cottage-type homes, a road we’re familiar with, to check out this property for sale. we’re looking to leave our slate-roofed Tudor that has far too many rooms, far too much charm, and far too much of everything we absolutely don’t need…we’re down-sizing. we need less space to live in and more space for our growing Porsche collection.

so, on our way out to see this little cottage sitting on a bit over half an acre, we passed by this quaint café with 968 Cabriolet sitting in front of it under the shade of this large tree…

“holy shit, booby, did you see that?”

“no, what was it?” she said

“there was a 968 Cab in that café we just past. check it out, you may just be able to see it.”

“oh yea! what color is that?” she asked.

“it looked like Adventurine Green.”

this is a rare occurrence, you just don't see 968s everyday...I should've stopped.
the cottage we went to scope out...the 968 was much more interesting.
but I wasn’t going to turn around. we were running on vapors, we had tons of shit to do, and the clouds where turning this nasty shade of dark blue promising to dump a shitload of water on us any minute…we had to move otherwise we’d be looking at this house in violently pouring rain.

we got there right after the downpour. we looked around, dug the house shrugged our shoulders at the location, and left.

“let’s get a nibble at that café back there, where the 968 was.” she said.

see I kinda didn’t want to go in there because I knew I’d be talking to the owner of that 968 for longer than I wanted too…Diane’s zeal for Porsche chat isn’t as profound as mine, and more often than not, I have to cut things short to spare her being bored to tears.

we pull in, the 968 is still there…maybe it was the owner’s as it was parked in front of the place and not where the other patrons parked. as we walk in, the girl behind the counter had this intelligent Germanic look about her, maybe it was hers…

“is that your car out there? the green one?”

a curt “no” was all she said.

then I ask a tall guy straightening things out. ah, that must be the guy…

“is that your 968?”

he looked over at it, then turned his head back to me and said, 


surely it was the dude sitting in the corner reading the paper, and a plate with a crumbled napkin in it on the side.

he heard my question to the first two, and looked up at me when I was about to open my mouth and ask him,

“did you hit it?” he asks.

I smiled and said “na…is it yours?”

of course it was.
while my wife was getting as a sandwich, he and I began the passionate talk about 968s.

“how long have you owned it?”

“about three years…not many left, you know”

“oh yeh, I know…around 2200 came to the states. my wife has one too,” I said, “in midnight blue with the same saddle interior as yours. did you buy it locally?”

“yeah, in Montville. most of these cars are out west though, I got pretty lucky.”

from there on, the conversation went from 968s, to 944s, to Porsche history and Professor Fuhrmann’s vision. we’ve covered a great deal of chat in about fifteen minutes.

I asked if he belonged to the Porsche club, he said yes, and of course Diane, who’s so proud of my writing for them, told this man, Richard, that I wrote for PCA and the local chapter’s magazine “Porscheforus.”

“oh yeah? what’s your latest article?”

I gulped.

it occurred to me, right then and there, that my newest piece wasn't one I'd like to be known for.

“it comes out today, through E-Brake. it’s about helping a friend out when his 993 broke down. I connected him with a friend of mine who’s an ace with Porsches.”

I stopped there, and mentioned my other, better pieces that I’ve written for the magazine, Porscheforus about my 928 experiences…and then the conversation went off in different tangents.

we exchanged numbers and wrote down our websites in the hopes that he can see better examples of my work, our work, revolving around the fantastic four we passionately write about.

I left it there.

nearly 850 words later, and what is this all about? nothing but a black eye I gave myself and having to explain it here, to you. 

hey, they can’t all be winners…but at least I got a nice shot of a rare bird in Adventurine Green with 40K on the clock.


check out the article below:


Joe Sharp
07/16/2014 08:26

Don't be so hard on thyself. Maybe a bit over the top on the speakeasy, but it WAS a speakeasy at one time wasn't it? I liked the article about Chas on e-brake. Anytime I can help somebody, I do it. I believe that "karma" is real, and ruled by Jesus. He helps us when we need it, by sending guys like you to help us.


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