For Artichoke Annie – Her 912 Recreated

 Created for Artichoke Annie by Casey

I woke up a little later this morning, it was Sunday after all. Made a pot of coffee and checked my emails, nothing much going on there unless you're a swinging senior. I may be a senior but in all honesty my swing is a bit rusty. 

My next click was to  http://artandcolour.blogspot.com/ to see if there was a new posting. Well knock me over with a feather and pass the Kleenex box please; I seem to have something in my eye – a little tear.
Featured there in all her past glory was my little 912 Porsche, it must have landed there when I tripped and my treasure photo box went flying from my hands. 

Casey you are a dear, thanks so much. What a wonderful world when a complete stranger would take so much time to do something like this for me. It's a crazy world with a common "hello ross" beginning and a cook named GRANNY to stir the pot and keep things cooking – Mare, Granny and Me/as in I - end up at Casey's place. We are the guests that come to visit and are slow to leave. 

Casey, I have already printed out your perfectly captured picture of my 1968 Porsche 912 and have tacked it up on my note board above my desk where all things important eventually end up. 

There are many wonderful stories of my little car both happy and sad. First, not long after acquiring her she became responsible for a little business I started – "Annie's Wax Museum". Porsche owners were like ants in those days forming their own colonies and speaking in headlight blinks as we traveled down the highways and byways. Most Porsche owners were very picky about how their little babies were cared for and the thought of allowing them to ever see the inside of a car-wash was unheard of. 

We lived on the beach in Corona del Mar, CA and weekends were filled with visiting beach going friends several of whom owned Porsche 911's with alphabetic endings. Well one thing led to another and soon I was hand washing and waxing these beautiful hunks of metal. Word spread, cars were dropped by my place in the a.m. and picked up after work, and a business grew that lasted several years. I even gave the cars a feather dusting just prior to pick up by the owners. 

The sad story really deals with the instability of the car and it's fondness for fishtailing under certain conditions and most definitely in the hands of a novice driver like me. On this one particular evening, oblivious to the fact it had recently rained and the streets still glimmered with its wetness, the rev of two engines could be heard, my friend's 911E and my 912, the race was on. Never mind the facts that I was underpowered and inexperienced, this race was going to be mine. 

Off we went, my friend generously allowing me the first jump, which did nothing more than to really spur me on. Down the street I flew much too fast for the approaching turn, I slammed on the breaks (mistake one), started to fishtail and I over steered (mistake two) the rest is a bit of a blur. My husband sat frustrated and helpless in the passenger seat a witness to this horror. Eventually (probably mere seconds) we came to rest after have I had done a complete 360 and was finally slowed by scraping a lamp post along the driver's side while going backwards. 

The miracle to my indiscretion was that no innocent bystanders or drivers were involved and I came out of it with a few chipped teeth when my head it the steering wheel and a minor laceration on my shoulder from the broken driver's side window. The police saw fit not to ticket me, an act of kindness that did not go unnoticed – I never raced again. 

The victim in this case was my completely innocent Tangerine Porsche 912 who suffered the brunt of this blameless abuse. I was told she wasn't a pretty sight, the cost of a new door versus used door the only thing separating her from being totaled. But my memory of her that night was of a tangerine tinged sparkle leaning gingerly against a lamppost. 

I never saw her again after that night, too embarrassed and ashamed to face her, I had no words to proclaim my innocence. It was one of those love affairs that you just had to walk away from without any words spoken. 

Casey, you have brought my love back to me as we were in the beginning. I remember this day we parked alongside this country road and enjoyed a lovely picnic in the woods. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.