2003.02.12 2003 Portland International Auto Show
It seems unlikely to me that the Pope enjoys as much attention and reverence as an International Auto Show. Or, at least, that's how the universe would be if it made any sense to me. Since the universe has adamantly refused to be completely understood in most other regards, I guess I had better just let this one go. Still, I think you understand the level of excitement and pure joy I was feeling about this event.
Actually, I suspect that most people that know me at all can even imagine the childish squeals of glee I emitted.
Poor S. She probably had an idea that I was perhaps a little obsessed as we were driving towards the Portland Convention Centre, and I was grinning like someone enjoying lethal levels of Nitrous Oxide. After finding a safe parking spot for Grendel, she had to endure being tugged by the hand as I literally skipped along. Being a brilliant conversationalist, I'm sure she suffered even more when she tried engaging me in discourse.
"You certainly seem excited. Almost as though this has some sort of transcendent, almost spiritual importance." And she would look at me, a deep gaze into my eyes, clearly hoping to evoke some visceral emotional commentary or reflection.
All she got, of course, was, "Ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy!"
Eventually, she gave up on verbal exchange, other than occasionally pointing out when I started drooling on myself. We waited in a slow-moving river of people that creeped towards the ticket counter, all the while my blood pounded impatiently through my veins. When finally I obtained the tickets, I clasped S's hand and ran for the entrance. The ticket-checking lackey almost lost his hand due to ticket-cuts as I sped past him with a velocity normally reserved for frightened cats and falling objects.
I dashed in up the stairs to the upper level immediately. I had glanced at the general layout of the exhibits online prior to showing up, and had a specific destination in mind. Priorities. You understand. First things first.
And then, there they were before me. The Ferraris.
There was a Ferrari F50. Very impressive. Very glad I got to see one in real life. Truly a piece of art.
Separated from the Ferrari F50 by a Lamborghini Diablo was my soul made material. A Ferrari 360 Modena Challenge.
The world faded away, and there was only me and the Modena. Each of us, a reflection of each other's true nature.
I could feel it speaking to me.
Come on, Clayton. These puny little rails are easily stepped over.
Clearly, it is an evil car, with an evil soul. I was completely in love.
I made my way around behind the car.
File:Batch010-010modena-rear.jpg
Those people between me and the exit ramp? Soft. They would hardly leave any marks on my paint...
I seem to remember having to blink a few times, and clenching my jaw. Pretty darn tempting. It was about that moment when I caught a glimpse of S in the corner of my eye. There was no way I'd get her to go along with stealing the Ferrari, and I'd hate to leave her behind. It is entirely possible that a significant portion of the crowd at the Portland International Auto Show owe their wellbeing to her presence with me that day.
I hoisted up my camera for a view of the Ferrari's engine, displayed prominently under it's clear cover. You really can't see it in the still image, but in person I could have sworn that it was beating, like a monstrous heart.
File:Batch010-009modena-engine.jpg
Yeah.
Eventually, I managed to drag myself away.
Over in the nearby Mercedes booth, I drooled over an SLK. That retracting hard-top is really slick. My own memories of how soft tops deteriorate makes me quite appreciative of this feature. It's probably worth the extra weight and complexity. Probably. Definitely a contender for my next steed.
Also in the Mercedes booth was one of the new SL-class on display. It's quite nice.
(EVIL Snicker)... It could never catch me!
OK, I admit that having the Ferrari still talking to me telepathically was a bit unnerving. I didn't dare mention it though. S is a psychologist. She could easily realize just how insane I am. I was rather hoping to save that until later in the relationship.
Walking arm-in-arm with the beautiful S, down on the lower level we happened across the Austin Powers "Shaguar".
You can almost see the cardboard cut-out of mini-Me in the driver's seat, except that it's edge-wise, and out of the frame is another 2-dimensional representation of Dr. Evil. Fromage. The crowd loved it.
In the BMW bivouac, the only significant vehicle I found was a Z4. This was a proper display item, and I was permitted to climb into the driver's seat. It did fit really nice. It has all the BMW solid feel of Grendel, but also the simple open-air fun of a convertible 2-seater. This is also within striking range as a possible next steed. I'm not sure of how well I like the styling, as it is quite non-mainstream. I've still got another 2-3 years before I'm likely to upgrade steeds, so I have plenty of time to consider the aesthetics. This baby can be fitted with an LCD GPS map display - something that I want quite badly after seeing the function of my dad's.
On to the Porsche pit. Let's be honest: ALL of these steeds are nice. Even the new Porsche Cheyenne didn't look bad to me, and I don't have much taste or regard for SUVs. Toy Boxsters, naturally-aspirated and turbocharged 911's played before my eyes, but the one that really made me grin was the Porsche Carrera-4S.
It is merely an appliance for going fast - nothing like the soul-screaming exultation of driving ME!
Yeah, that might be true... but I might actually be able to afford a used one of these babies in the next couple years. Somehow, that makes it pretty darn attractive. Well, that, and it being a world-class sports car that would out-perform the world-class sports car I already drive. Ever-onward, and all that machismo.
After feeding S some overpriced junk food, there was pretty much random wanderings. The American manufacturers were displaying a wide assortment of crap, including some shitty prototype models. I don't want to pollute this account too much, so I won't go into that. The Japanese had their usual array of better-then-American stuff, with very little of much interest. One shining exception was the Honda S2000. I know that the design is already 4 years old, but they're still really cool little cars. 179kW (240hp) at NINE THOUSAND RPM (150Hz), propelling a low, sleek little road-demon. Yeah, I'm seriously considering one of these for my next steed as well. Sitting in it, it fit perfectly... with the top down. Just the way it should be.
It is but a toy...!
Persistent, aren't you? Just shush and let me savour a more possible future for a moment. S ooooh'd and aaaah'd around some Subaru wagons - vehicles she considers to be appealing as something to drive herself. I must confess, I think she has good taste. Those are some good little cars.
Before we left, we had to enter to win a new MINI. Those are some damn cute little cars. I also entered into a raffle for a Porsche Boxster, with profits going to the Dougy Center for Grieving Children.
I'm sure the Dougy Center is a very worthy organization doing important stuff. Whatever. I just want the Porsche.
So, my automotive adventure eventually ended, with my tolerance for crowds sinking into the safety-factor, imaginings of a telepathic Ferrari still talking to me, and my little mechanical engineer's heart blissfully contented and happy.
You WILL drive me some day, won't you?
Oh, definitely. Definitely.