The Joys of My Porsche 914

My one and only sports car was a new 1971 Porsche 914 that I drove from June 1971 to November 1974 while I was living in the Albany, New York area.

The good part was that it was a genuine sports car that had more civilized features than a ragtop MG, etc.  The gal who did my computer programming for the State planning agency was a purist who thought that a true sports car driver had to SUFFER.  You know the drill ... rag top, floppy side curtains ... so it was with initial reluctance that she bought a new Datsun 240Z coupe.

The 914 was fun to drive.  I liked the low driving position (but would hate it now).  A very slight steering wheel movement resulted in a noticeable turn.  Not tiring to drive on the several long trips I made in it.  The 4 cylinder version had the same gas tank the 914/6 required, so theoretical range approached 600 miles.

Not so fun at first was the very stiff gear shifter.  Over time either it loosened or my right arm got stronger.

My car got punished.  Someone rear-ended me at slow speed, and the rear trunk lid repair was not thorough -- leaked or wept slightly.  On the Thruway heading east from Buffalo once, the windshield took a rock.  The replacement's sealing was so-so and the surrounding chrome strip was loose in one corner ... had to screw it down.

A couple of years in, I was in the process of starting the car.  Stepped on the clutch and its cable snapped!  That's when I discovered that the angled floorboard behind it was made of plywood (I'm not kidding!).

There was an electrical item with cardboard covered tubes that failed somehow in the middle of Illinois and later gave some trouble.  If the motor died, a fix was giving the unit a whack.

The fuel pump was located in front of the left rear wheel well.  After a winter or two of road salt, its electrical lead corroded through and the car behaved like a vacuum cleaner when its cord gets pulled.   Same thing happened a year or so later.

The weight bias toward the rear could be dangerous in winter.  On a Delaware County country road with borderline snow/slush, the rear end broke away and I couldn't break its rhythm.  Eventually the rear and front traded places.  There was incoming traffic, but fortunately the car slid to the right into a snow bank.  I decided 914s were not winter-compatible.

By the fall of 1974 the sleeve over the exhaust system that provided heat had rusted through in places.  So my defogger only could defog about two inches worth at the bottom of the windshield.

This last was what prompted me to trade it in for a 1974 VW Dasher with front wheel drive for safer snow driving. I had it Zebart rust-proofed and was all set for another Albany winter.  A month or so after that, I was hired to work at the Washington State Budget Office's population unit and I went home to Puget Sound county.

Had the timing been slightly different I might have kept the 914 and put some money into restoring it because western Washington is pretty easy on cars unless one lives right by the ocean with its salt spray that can damage the paint.

Cross-posted at Car Style Critic.

Go to Hawaii and Jump the Shark

The expression "jumped the shark" pops up on the internet somewhat often.   It refers to the old "Happy Days" TV show episode where the Fonzie character is out surfing or waterskiing (I didn't see that ep) and hops over a large, nasty shark.  The point being, that was when Happy Days ran out of creative steam, ratings dwindled and then eventually was cancelled.  So when some person, political movement, fashion, hobby -- whatever -- visibly outlives its original inspiration and resorts to stunts or odd behavior to retain attention, the shark has been jumped and decline is inevitable.

Years before, back in the distant days when I watched TV shows, it had dawned on me that when the setting of the program shifted to Hawaii for an episode or two, that show had run out of ideas and was doomed.  There was more than one case of this, but that was 40 or so years ago and I can't cite examples: sorry.

I'm not sure if the folks running the programs realized what was happening in those terms.  It's possible a producer thought it was be fun to do a Hawaii-based episode as a treat or reward for the cast and the production workers.

Or maybe they did know that the end was nigh.

Regardless, when a program had a Hawaii episode, the Grim Reaper of television was lurking in the wings.

Online Dating Services, Part 1

My wife died nearly two and a half years ago.  Because I enjoy companionship, I eventually decided to try out online dating services.

I hope this doesn't squeeze all the romance out of things, but I am dealing with a numbers game in seeking the appropriate woman.

Back in high school the girls were all single -- available to one degree or another (some were "going steady" and therefore not in the dating market).  College was largely similar, though some young women were already married while others were engaged.  Still others were "pinned" to a frat man (engaged-to-be-engaged was the concept, a serious form of going steady).  And there were some simply going steady.  Nevertheless, that left plenty of gals free for dating and relationship formation.

Note that these same situations applied to women seeking men.

Roll the calendar ahead more than a few decades and the availability situation changes.  By that point, aside from the very elderly, the majority of people are married.  There also are those currently divorced or widowed or never-married.  But the latter groups are probably a minority.  Worse, they are much harder to find in the real world than back in the days of high school and college.

Sitting in a Starbucks, gazing around the room, it's not easy to decide who might be available for a date.  Okay, eliminate those wearing wedding rings -- but some of the rest might be "steady" already or not interested.

Hence, on-line dating services.  The contacts displayed are vetted as being interested in finding a partner.  And there are many of them.

How that system actually works will be presented in the next post.