tinker-toy

yesterday, i was asked why not have our dealer do the Cayman's oil change. why? and i had to think on it. i mean really, why not? we are a bit frugal, as of need and whim, but not that frugal. and then the image of their hands, and her fluids... no, not that kind of image, but more one of the dog baring its teeth. there is something about this car. perhaps because she is our first Porsche (something this one has always dr0oled a bit over)... because of the whole swapping out the short shift experience... perhaps the caravan drive to Vegas, my comrades, the thrill of the chase (so to say)?

i was also given some great advice about the correct usage for a torque wrench. as i thanked the other member i thought, who am i supposed to learn this stuff from anymore?

car thoughts make me wistful for being little - and observing my Dad with his Volvos, and my neighbor with his BMW racers (yum.) i learned that loving a car was taking time to do the little things and investigate just how the cars were put together, at least that was my translation of the hours and hours whittled away in the garage. why do i choose my first tinker-toy vehicle as one with all sorts of state-of-the-art whazzits and whossits tucked discretely out of view? i do not have an answer for that yet - but i read people with a long history of numerous Porsches and interact and glean. over time, and with a lot of miles, i may come closer to understanding.

i never had a chance to really learn hands on from my Dad and now, even if i asked, he would not understand my questions. he was never much of a talker, but that man could tinker as if there were no tomorrow. i, the last of 3 girls, practically grew up holding his shop light - leaning over the side of the hood, and gazing at his great, nicked-up hands as they tweaked and prodded.

our Klause is haunted by the same electrical daemons that typically infiltrate SAABs. doors that lock or unlock at whim, warning readouts that lead to chasing geese, mysterious foglights, etc. i opened up the hood of the SAAB this weekend to check "alerted" levels. the fluids were fine, but afterward i caught myself staring at the wires - searching for little pieces of electrical tape wrapped as little cocoons, tiny webs secured with wire, glinting glimpses of new parts placed with love and a twist. 3,000mi and this grrl will never bring the SAAB or Cayman cross-country to meet Dad.

been thinking about him lately... which is abnormal and an avoided. it leaves me wondering, is this why i am here on the site? and how did this happen without me seeing it before?