I used to take pictures of cars. Thousands of them, the vast majority with Porsches in them. Not so much anymore. I used to hang out with Porschefiles. Hundreds of them. They were my cronies. Not so much anymore. I used to drive my Porsches on backroads. Miles of driving on them. Not so much anymore. I used to wash my Porsches. Not so much anymore, though that may have more to do with the drought than anything else. I used to attend and write about scenic drives and cars and coffees. Not so much anymore. I used to go to Air-Cooled Porsche shows. Not sure if I will anymore, and that is the crux of my issue.

I am experiencing a significant first world problem. I am not sure how much I love my Porsches, the four wheeled kind, not my two-legged granddaughter, Portia, whom I love dearly, kind. I do not think I have any interest in attending Luftgekühlt 8, which will be held in October. This is a big deal. A Richter Scale event in my life worthy of the issuance of a tsunami warning.

Luftgekühlt, which means air cooled in German, is arguably the best Air-Cooled Porsche show in the world. I have been to four of the first six Luftgekühlts, and I have had cars on display in three of them. Attending Luftgekühlt was once the highlight of my year. It was a chance to stand next to Patrick Dempsey, to meet Magnus Walker, to kibbitz with Patrick Long, who is the event founder, to put my car in a unique environment, to see many beautiful Air-Cooled Porsches and to hang out with many of my cronies. I think even Pam would agree that Luftgekühlt is an epic event, even though she abhors it when I refer to it that way.

To put my problem in perspective, since December 2019 I have not attended many Porsche related events, meaning no scenic drives or cars and coffees, which has resulted in a near total absence of hanging out with my cronies, of having opportunities to snap Porsche pics, or to write Porsche blog posts. It’s not like the events didn’t exist. They did. I just did not go.

I have hardly driven either of my Porsches since December 2019, putting about 1,600 miles on my Cayman and about 800 on my Carrera. That’s 2,400 miles in over 32 months. Or put another way, I have driven them on average about 75 miles per month. The good news is that I have only bought gas twice in 2022 for them, less than two tank fulls in my Cayman, and none in my Carrera. The bad news is that I do not miss driving them.

I am worried about me. I think there is something wrong. Let me restate that: Since the onset of Covid, there is more wrong with me than ever before. Over the past two+ years, I have become a hermit. Well, more of a hermit, anyway. Some would say I have developed a serious case of hermititis. I would have to agree with them. The curiouis thing is that I am quite comfortable with my affliction. It does not bother me in the least.

Which leaves me with a question posed lyrically by the Clash: “Should I stay or should I go?”