Page 11 of 16

Breakfast of Porsches

April 15, 2017 / hkraushaar

4/15/17

I usually reserve one Saturday of the month for breakfast at the Spitfire Grill at the Santa Monica Airport. It is an informal affair, unaffiliated with any organization, and really meant more for catching up with Porsche driving friends than anything else. This month there was a conflict, and I opted to forego the Spitfire. Instead, I had breakfast with the PCA LA Region at the Porsche Experience Center in Carson, primarily because it was the inaugural breakfast at the 917 restaurant, which is located on the second floor of the Experience Center.

We met in the parking lot at 8 AM for some informal conversation. There were some great cars there, including a nice mix of air-cooled and water-cooled Porsches. There was even one Ferrari. It was’t a Porsche, but at least it was a California. After a half an hour of kibitzing, we went inside the Experience Center and upstairs to the 917 restaurant.

I wasn’t sure what to expect in the way of food, The price, including tax, tip and MotorsportReg fees was $49, which is about 150% more than I spend at the Spitfire. So I hoped the food would be good. I was not disappointed. The quality was great. The coffee was superb. The eggs were not powdered. And the bacon was damn near perfect. I am not a huge lox guy, but that looked good, too. The reality, though, was that the small buffet line just did not justify the price. On the other hand, the location and view did in spades.

I sat at a table of four. Two of the other three, Chester and Ted, were friends from the Spitfire, and the third, Tim, was a new acquaintance, a very nice guy who had an amazing 993 incarnation of the 911. Our conversation was interesting and for the most part centered around Porsches and work. The table we picked, like most of them in the restaurant, had an amazing view of the track at the Experience Center. When we first sat down, the track was empty. There was a nice assortment of Porsches parked just below us on the tarmac, but no one was near them.

Then we noticed some activity on the track. Instructors and students were getting into the cars. The Experience Center has a drivers education program, and we had a birds eye view of the learning process. Car handling skills are a prerequisite for driving fast on a track, and the Experience Center has some great learning tools at their disposal. We spent the rest of breakfast trying to predict how good or bad each student would do on the various obstacles. The cost of the food, and the food itself, became a non-issue. Just watching the students on the track was lots of fun, and worth the price of admission.

Pretty soon it was time to leave the restaurant and go about our days. Some of the guys were hanging around the Experience Center to be driven around the track on a Hot Lap with a pro at the wheel and then have a box lunch. I had not planned to do that activity, but I had some spare time. Chester, one of my Spitfire cronies and an amazing video editor who has a beautiful 1984 911 Targa, and I decided to head up the road to Porsche of South Bay, as they have a decent Porsche Classics collection.

As I had driven my 1974 911 Targa, our cars looked really good parked near each other. So we parked just outside one of the showroom windows. We walked into the showroom. We could easily see our cars from within it. We laughed, called them entry level and not ready for prime time, and amused ourselves by just walking around and asking questions, generally wasting the time of those working there.

Soon it was time to head home. There were a lot of cars on the road. Traffic was lumpy, and we could not stay together, which would have added to the experience. But it didn’t matter. Our Targa tops were off. The sun was out. The smiles were plastered to our faces. And, despite some slight protestations from our left legs, we each motored home in style.

The Pits of Long Beach

April 14, 2017 / hkraushaar

4/8/17

I decided to hang out on Saturday of the Long Beach Grand Prix weekend with another of my friends named Marc, one I have not mentioned here before. Marc and I are rekindling a High School friendship after 40+ years because we both have a Porsche obsession. Marc’s is for street legal track Porsches, like the 911 GT3RS, mine is for more sedate, older, air-cooled and newer, mid-engine Porsches, though I wouldn’t kick a new, water-cooled, rear engine 911 of any kind out of my garage, assuming my 912 would allow me to make room for it.

I was never a huge fan of motorsports growing up, but as I age, I find myself more attracted to it, mainly because I like cars and really enjoy sports that are technical in nature and require tons of teamwork and strategy. Car racing is one of those sports, a sport where the vast majority of the action takes place behind the scenes or in the pits. So I was pretty excited as I drove my Cayman to Long Beach early Saturday morning to spend the day at the track with Marc. Marc is fairly well connected in the motorsports world, and I suspected that I was not going to have a normal fan experience. I was right.

As Marc and I walked to the Grand Prix course and surrounding areas, we caught up on each other’s lives. My life is pretty low key. I repetitively go and do the same things. I am not complaining, as I like it this way. Marc goes to a much wider range of places and events. Part of this relates to his business as a lawyer with some high profile clients. Part relates to his personality. Either way, it was great to catch up and learn what he has been up to.

Once we got to the track and the exhibits, the real fun started. I expected Marc to be connected, I just did not realize how connected. Marc provided passes that let us go everywhere. So we went everyhwhere. And everywhere we went, Marc knew someone. Clearly, we only went to the places where he knew someone, but we did go to a lot of places. Though it did not come close to balancing the ledger, we did run into one person I knew. Of course, it was my other friend Marc. So I introduced Marc to Marc, and of course they made their mark on each other.

Behind the scenes at a major motorsports event is an absolute circus. People wander around. Mechanics work, sometimes all through the night. Deals are made. Cars and tires are transported to the track from the paddocks. Drivers buzz around on scooters. Horns blare. Movement is unceasing. Sitting and standing in a couple of the hospitality areas, eating, drinking, people watching and listening to various conversations enabled me to take in all there was to see and hear.

Through it all, though, I got a sense that change is on the horizon and motorsports as we know them are about to change in a big way. The insiders talk about costs and rules and how too few owners own too many cars. They talk about the insane cost to sponsor a team, and the swindling number of teams in the field. They bemoan the rise of electric car races, with their absence of engine noise, something that I think would take all the emotion out of a race, and the aging demographics of their customers. But on Saturday those issues remained in the background, and the party was in full swing.

I had an awesome day. One I will never replicate without Marc. The highlights for me were hanging out in the pits during Indy Car practice, being driven on a Bondurant hot lap before the IMSA race, speaking with Patrick Long, one of the Wright Porsche drivers from the Pirelli World Challenge series, hanging out on the starting grid ogling the Porsches, not to mention the WeatherTech girls, before the IMSA race, and watching the IMSA race in the relative comfort of a covered grandstand with a couple of TV monitors right in our line of sight. I met lots of people, including Motorsports TV personalities, ex Formula 1 drivers, and a host of other players in the industry. Of course, we ate for free. Like I said, Marc is connected.

Pam and I are planning a fall vacation, and I am lobbying for a trip to Austin, mainly for BBQ and country music, but also for the ability to spend a day at The Circuit of The Americas to watch the Formula 1 race. Maybe I can talk Marc into meeting me there…

Church In Staples

April 1, 2017 / hkraushaar

3/31/17

Pam and I went to see Eric Church play in Staples last night as part of his Holdin’ My Own Tour, and afterwards all we could say was, “Hallelujah!” He put on a spectacular show, opening with a cover of the late Leonard Cohen’s iconic song. He delivered a haunting tribute to the artist by playing the song in the dark, while a spotlight illuminated an empty circular area of the stage. The effect was as reverential as it was emotional.

Eric Church is not easy to pigeonhole. He is country, yet he isn’t. He is hard rock, yet he isn’t. He is bluesy, yet he isn’t. He is gritty, yet he isn’t. He is sappy, yet he isn’t. He is modern, yet he isn’t. He is pop, yet he isn’t. He is outlaw, yet he isn’t. He is southern rock, yet he isn’t. This makes some sense, as his musical influences range from Hank, Jr. and Merle Haggard to Metallica and AC/DC. After his performance last night, we decided he is just damn good and do not care if he is genre conflicted.

Eric Church did not have an opening act. He played for about three hours, singing over 30 songs, and taking a 20 minute intermission. He also took a few breaks to down some Jack Daniels, which he clearly enjoys. I guess when one of your songs is titled Jack Daniels you might have a propensity for drinking it on stage.

We loved it that he did not have an opening act. Very few artists play a show without one. A show like that is reserved for the likes of Bruce Springsteen, who defines the standard by which I measure all other live performances. And Eric Church’s performance ranked right up near the top. As one of his hit songs is named Springsteen, it should not have come as a surprise that he would emulate the Boss, and deliver a marathon concert.

Vocally, he was off the charts, demonstrating over and over again just how good he sounds live. He had total command of the stage, which was starkly minimalistic in its decoration, enabling us to focus on his music. He swaggered. He screamed. He showed passion and emotion. He communicated and connected with the audience. It was obvious when he was pumped up, and he inspired the audience to echo his energy. He even challenged us to hang with him all night, as he was giving it his all and he expected us to do so as well. Eric Church exemplifies why Pam and I go to see shows. No record ever recorded and no video ever produced can duplicate the euphoric feelings evoked by attending a live show, and last night we saw a great one. Just like Bruce, Eric Church’s recorded music pales when compared to seeing and listening to it live.

With a 30+ song set list, the show included most, if not all, of his great songs, including Mistress Named Music, Drink In My Hand, Mr. Misunderstood, Like a Wrecking Ball, Smoke a Little Smoke, Pledge Allegiance to the Hag, Record Year, Kill a Word, Three Year Old, and Springsteen, just to list several of them. He also covered I Love LA, the Randy Newman song, to pay tribute to the Los Angeles audience. Some of his best moments where when he was singing with only his acoustic guitar keeping him company. When his band was playing, they were seriously good, and he sounded great with them. His sound mixers did a great job balancing the vocals and the other instruments to yield a near perfect concert experience. Adding to our enjoyment was Joanna Cotton, a backup singer who provided a seriously gritty and soulful delta dimension to several of the songs.

As we decided to buy the Eric Church tickets months ago and as we did so at my urging, I knew I would not need tequila or doughnuts before the show to induce me to see it. After seeing it, my only quandary was whether I would have to drink some Jack Daniels as a toast to him before we see him again. And we will see him again.

Back In The 911 Saddle

March 19, 2017 / hkraushaar

3/19/17

OK, I did it. 11 and a half months after my 1977 911 Targa caught fire in my garage, I bought another 911. This one is a beautiful, well mostly beautiful, 1974 911 Targa. I did not need it, but I wanted it. I felt unfulfilled with my experience with my 1977 911. I also felt a deep sense of loss because I never got to know and enjoy the car before it burned. The 1977 was a project car. The 1974 is not. It is a very nice, mostly stock, 1974 911. Sure it has a few issues, but it is 43 years old. So issues are to be expected and they will be dealt with over time.

My friend Mark sold it to me a week ago. Yes, the same Mark who was my mentor on the 1977 Targa project. We just never got to get into the project phase. Anyway, Mark is rebalancing his car portfolio and decided to sell the 1974. I had seen the car and liked it. So I bought it.

I placed the 912 into our newly refurbished garage, where it has been sitting for a week, because I needed room in the driveway for the 911. I was already on thin ice with Pam for buying the 911. I did not need to make it any thinner by not leaving her room to park her car in the driveway. The 912 has issues and needs work. I will get to them, soon. First, though, I wanted to play with the 911.

When I picked it up from Mark, he gave me specific instructions because the car had been sitting for about six months. I heard two out of the three things he said. I followed one half of one of them.

He told me to fill up the car with gas. I heard that. He told me to get a bottle of fuel system cleaner and put in while I filled up the tank. I did not hear that. He told me to get it out on the freeway and drive it at least 60 miles at a decently high rpm. I heard that. On Sunday, I did not get around to taking the car out until the afternoon. I looked at the gas tank, and noted it was three quarters full. So I opted to skip getting gas. I got on the freeway and it was packed. So I drove it about 10 miles before I got off and turned around. I ended up in worse traffic going home. So I got off the freeway and did some city driving. I mean, driving is driving, right? Apparently not.

I drove it to work on Monday. I drove it to work on Wednesday. Everything was fine until I tried to start it to go to lunch on Wednesday. The car would not start. As we have established before, I am not very mechanically literate. So if the car does not start, it must be the battery. Yeah, it was turning over, but I just assumed it was not getting enough spark. So I called AAA to get a jump start. While I was waiting, I called Mark, who was not available. Eventually, the AAA guy showed up, tested the battery, and said it was fine. Of course, the car still would not start. At that point I assumed it was the fuel pump, but that was just a hunch based on the fact that the battery was fine.

I believed the car had to be towed. So I called Marc, my mechanic friend who specializes in Porsches. As luck would have it, Marc’s shop was full. He was uncomfortable with me bringing the car in. So I was in a quandary, as I could not decide what to do with the car. The AAA guy was waiting for me to make a decision so we could order the flatbed. Just about then Mark called back.

I explained the situation. His first words to me were, “Did you do what I told you to do on Saturday when you picked up the car?” What could I say? I was not sure what that had to do with this, so I said, “Not exactly.” That was not the right thing to say. I told him what I had done on Sunday. That got me a well deserved earful about knowing when to follow directions and how if I did not follow them, he would, justifiably, stop giving them to me.

After he calmed, he asked me if I wanted to start the car. I said, “Yes!” He walked me through taking the air cleaner off and manipulating a component in the air flow system, which he said might have been stuck and preventing air to get into the engine. After that, he walked me through the multi-step process used to properly start the car. Of course, the car started right up. I smiled. The AAA guy left. Mark reiterated the instructions he had given me earlier. This time I heard the part about the fuel system cleaner.

Mark made me promise to complete all the steps exactly. I told him I would. On the way home, I put in the fuel system cleaner. I filled up the tank. On Saturday before I went to breakfast with my Porsche friends, I took the car on a 60 plus mile freeway jaunt. Mark was out of town Saturday so he was not at breakfast, That did not stop him from calling me at a few minutes after 8 AM when the parking lot portion of breakfast was starting. He asked me the following question: “Are you on the side of the road?” I said, “No.” He asked if I was at the Spitfire. I said, “Yes.” He asked me if I followed his directions exactly. I said, “Yes.” He said good and then promptly instructed me to do it all again the next week. What could I say to that? I said, “OK.”

So I have had the car a week, and I have put about 180 miles on it, about six times the number of miles I put on the 1977 before it burned. I love this car. It is a visceral experience to drive it. It is loud and bumpy. The wind whistles. Every thing is manual from the window cranks to the steering to the brakes. I feel every nook and cranny in the road, not to mention the real bumps, through the steering wheel. The steering is unbelievably direct. The brakes require a solid push. The grip coming out of a turn is out of this world, as the tail heavy 911 hunkers down and accelerates. It by no means would be a daily driver, but it will be lots of fun.

Valentine’s Day With Brandy Clark

March 4, 2017 / hkraushaar

2/14/17

Pam and I, along with our friends Stuart and Marla, spent Valentine’s Day night listening to Brandy Clark at the Troubadour. Brandy Clark is a great singer songwriter. While her non-pop, non-mainstream themes do not always lend themselves to broad audience appeal, we think she is great. Her sophomore CD, Big Day in a Small Town, earned her a Grammy nomination for Best Country Album, as did her first album, 12 Stories. This was the fourth time all of us were going to listen to her. We knew with absolute certainty that this would be a big night in a big town.

As I have written about before, we love listening to Brandy Clark. We first heard her when she opened for Jennifer Nettles at The Wiltern a couple of years ago. At that time, she blew us away with her performance and we became instant fans. I have a habit of buying CDs from artists playing in small venues. I have bought them in bars from Nashville to Wailea. I have bought them in outdoor malls. I have bought them in small venues, including The El Rey, The Wiltern, and The Bluebird Cafe. I recognize it is somewhat of a sickness, but I do it anyway. Pam laughs at me for it, mainly because I usually do not ever listen to the CDs after I bring them home. Not so with the CD I bought from Brandy Clark after her performance at The Wiltern. I listened to that one. A lot.

The only real question on Valentine’s Day was whether she would be playing acoustic guitar with some acoustic accompaniment or whether she would have her band. Personally, I was hoping for the fully acoustic show without her band. In my opinion, Brandy Clark has the perfect voice for playing acoustic country or acoustic anything for that matter. To my mostly untrained ears she never misses a note. Her voice is sweet and light, with just a perfect amount of twang to make her eminently listenable. Anything, like a band, that takes away from her vocal delivery would just detract from the show. We saw her at the Hotel Café a year or so ago, and she put on an acoustic show. It was off the charts good, and I was hoping for a repeat performance. She did not disappoint.

Brandy Clark has a unique gift for bringing interesting characters to life in her songs. Some songs are poignant character studies of downtrodden souls. Others are slightly off color comedies, with interesting twists. Others are slightly inane. Others are noir stories of failed loves. Others are just plain wicked, such as “Daughter,” one of the best, if not most amusing, revenge songs I have ever heard. Her lyrics are fun and thought provoking. Her melodies are pleasing. All are great to listen to. And listen we did.

She played acoustically for about an hour and a half, working thru a setlist that included songs from both of her albums and a few covers. Her performance was flawless. It WAS A BIG NIGHT IN A BIG TOWN for us. The highlight of the show for me was her cover of Linda Ronstadt’s, “Blue Bayou.” It is interesting how much you can learn about an artist when they cover a well known song. Over the years I have heard many great covers. Bruce Springsteen is a master at covering songs. Recently, Pam and I marveled over Zac Brown’s cover of “Bohemian Rhapsody” when we saw him at the Hollywood Bowl. I would rank Brandy Clark’s cover of “Blue Bayou” right up there with any of the best covers I have heard.

We spent Valentine’s Day with Brandy Clark. I hope we get to do it again.

Cody Jinks At The Troubadour

February 22, 2017 / hkraushaar

1/27/17

The Troubadour. The Troubadour. The Troubadour. One of the most iconic small concert venues in Los Angeles. Located just east of Beverly Hills in West Hollywood, this tiny venue has had huge acts grace its stage for over 50 years. Pam was one of the lucky few who saw Carol King and James Taylor play there in 1970. She was even luckier because the Troubadour still had tables then.

We decided to go see Cody Jinks play at the Troubadour. It was a spontaneous decision, made because we listened to one of his songs based on a random Facebook post. We liked the song, and we decided to roll the dice and see him perform. Given our steady diet of big, pop country acts last year, I was excited to see some grittier, singer songwriters that do not rely on staging and gimmicks to put on a show.

Going to the Troubadour is always an adventure. If you want to stand, which we do not, it is easy. Just park and walk in. Of course, you will have to stand for the entire show, something we do not cherish. The venue has a few rows of seating on the second floor. These seats fill up fast. So Pam and I got to the venue an hour before the doors opend and stood in line. As the old Fram Oil Filter television commercial went, “Pay me now or pay me later.”

Anyway, the show was very good. The opening act, Ward Davis was great. He had a Chris Stapleton look and sound, meaning he brought tons of soul to his folk country songs. He has spent years in Nashville singing in relative obscurity. So long in fact that his first full length album is titled, 15 Years in a 10-Year Town. He was easy to listen to, and we really enjoyed his performance.

The second act, Paul Cauthen, was a little more difficult to appreciate. It was not his music, which was a strangely hypnotic combination of Christian, gospel and rockabilly, as much as it was his delivery. At times it felt like he was channeling strange spirits as he sang. I found myself shutting my eyes to avoid the visual onslaught. He has a HUGE baritone voice that would fill Staples Center without a microphone. Consequently, he had no trouble filling he Troubadour with his unique blend of high-octane, operatic sounds.

Cody Jinks has finally found his voice. After years touring with a metal band, he morphed into an outlaw country and then a more or less mainstream country artist. Of course, he hails from Texas, home to the best outlaw country in the tradition of Willie, Waylon, Robert Earl, Jerry Jeff, Jimmy Dale, etc. He and his band put on a great show. They were easy to listen to, even if we had never heard most of their songs. Given that he has toured extensively before, he was able to deliver a well mixed sound that Pam and I really enjoyed. We would definitely see him again.

Lego of 2016

December 31, 2016 / hkraushaar

12/31/16

It is the last day of 2016. Many are very thankful 2016 is just about gone. With the surprising election results, the wide array of celebrity deaths, the ongoing terrorist attacks, the multitude of senseless killings by and of police, in some senses it has been quite a depressing year. A fitting year to fauxtest outside of Trump Tower. A fitting year to listen to “Pink Houses” by John Mellancamp, which I just did, a song which touches on the demise of the American Dream.

Or was it really a depressing year? Negative news sells, and sells well. Social media and the mainstream media thrive on it. Positive news doesn’t get a fair shake. In a year dominated by negative stories, it is easy to get a sense of despair. But reality differs from what is being talked about in the media. So In other senses, it has been just another year, no better no worse. We still live in the land of opportunity. All any of us have to do is look at the flow of immigrants to realize that. The dream may be a little cracked, but it is still a long way from being a nightmare. And opportunity still exists, it just takes work to grasp it.

As I sit here writing this and reflecting on the year, I cannot help but smile. I am a lucky guy. In my bubble, it was a damn good year. I have a great family. A great life. Pam, the kids, Jake (our Golden Retriever) and I are healthy and happy. Need I say more? Probably not, but I will anyway.

All of us are employed, and all are happy about it. Pam and I went to see lots of great shows this year, and we took a couple of very nice, albeit short, trips. Our friends are doing well, and their kids are doing well, too. So I just have to keep smiling.

Sure we had a few speed bumps this year, but in general they related to material things, which are replaceable. The low point for me was when my 1977 Porsche 911 Targa burst into flames in the garage. As I have written about before, the car was a total loss. The garage was damaged, needing to be rebuilt, a process that is still not complete, nine months after the fire. But, hey, it was only singed and was still standing and the house was untouched. Thanks to insurance I was able to get the garage rebuilt and to replace the burned Porsche with a 1969 Porsche 912 Targa, a car that, thankfully, I still have and which continues to make me smile.

Though not a low point but definitely a sobering point, I did come to the realization this year that my running days are behind me. After 40 years, my body has had enough, and I have been exploring other exercise options. I miss the feeling I get while running, but as I age, exercise is not as important to me as it once was, though it is most likely much more necessary, as I am burning way fewer calories. Pam reminded me of this the other day, when she suggested I eat the candy I had sitting around before the end of the year, because I was going on a diet on January 1. Ouch. It rankled for a moment, then I smiled because she was right.

I still love my Porsches, my Porsche friends, and my Porsche experiences. Some guys play golf. I like to go on drives. I like to read about Porsches. I like to hang out with other Porsche guys. Sure its shallow. Sure its unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Sure its self indulgent. But as I age, I need to find ways to enjoy my free time. I no longer play tennis. I don’t really like to ski anymore, though I do go on one boys trip a year, mainly to hang out with the guys. I never liked golf, of course that may be because I sucked at it or because my allergies went nuts every time I stepped foot on a golf course. For me it’s Porsches. They make me smile.

On Christmas day, I sat in the passenger seat of my Cayman while Kimberly drove us up the coast and through the twisties of Malibu and back. It was another great installment of our Christmas drive tradition. I made her stop at various points to take pictures. And, of course, I took pictures while she was driving. Our outing really made me smile.

Recently, my Porsche obsession resulted in the purchase of a Lego Technic model of the Porsche 911 GT3RS, a purchase I already wrote about. I have spent a fair amount of my free time the past week working on it. I am about 10% done, meaning I have completed about 86 of 854 steps. Along the way I have gone from a Lego Technic neophyte into a mostly functional builder. My inner nerd has blossomed, though some would say it has never not been blossoming. Either way, I have read Lego blogs. I have watched and re-watched lots of YouTubes about the subject. I have made some mistakes, but I have fixed them before I got too far along. I have been enjoying the build process. And guess what, I have been smiling as I build it.

So it’s time to Lego of 2016 and embrace 2017. I plan to smile as I do so.

Lego My Lego

December 25, 2016 / hkraushaar

12/25/16

After John, Kris and Pam humored me in New York by letting me visit the Lego Store to look at the 2,700 piece Technic Porsche 911 GT3RS, I knew I would be seeing it again. I was right. Pam tried valiantly to surprise me with it, but she really could not pull it off. I mean she thought about going out to get one at a store. But this is 2016, and as Christmas and Hanukkah loomed ever closer, she had no desire to actually go shopping, either for herself or me. So she apologized for the lack of surprise and asked me if I wanted her to buy it for me on line. I said, “Yes!” So she bought it for me on Amazon. Of course, our Amazon account is linked to my credit card and email, so I saw the transaction immediately and will pay for it when I pay the credit card bill. None of that mattered, as it was the thought that counted.

My gift arrived a couple of days ago. It was heavy, heavier than I could have guessed. I opened the boxes carefully, as the packaging is really nice. I knew I was going to be in for a lot of work to put this together, but I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. As I have written about earlier, I am a Lego newbie, and this would be my first project. I saw nothing wrong with this, even if it was like learning to dive by going up to the 10 meter board instead of just diving off the pool deck. With the box opened I took out the instruction manual, marveling that it contained 854 steps and was over an inch thick.

The beginning of the instruction manual contained an homage to Porsche, the 911 and to the 911 GT3RS. Then it went on to describe the painstaking process of creating the Technic Lego kit. Due to my absolute nerdiness, I truly enjoyed the introduction to the build. Then I flipped through the instruction pages, all 540 of them, each containing one or more build steps written in a language I deemed “Visual Lego.” Besides the instruction manual the kit contained four boxes numbered “1” through “4” which corresponded to the order in which I would have to construct the model.

The instructions indicated that box “1” contained the parts to build the guts of the RS, including the drive train, the chassis, the engine and the dual clutch transmission known in Porsche speak as the “Porsche Doppelkuppplung” or PDK. I have not spent too much time with standard Lego sets, but I had a sense for the basic nature of the blocks. As I opened the box marked “1” and started digging out cellophane bag after cellophane bag containing hundreds of tiny plastic objects that in no way resembled any Lego pieces I had ever seen, I reassessed the challenge that constructing this model was going to present. Pam just looked at the parts and laughed. I just look at the parts and gulped, as they resembled three dimensional hieroglyphics to me.

On Friday afternoon I decided to start. Game on. As I explored the contents of the various bags, I first assumed that there was some build logic embedded in the bags and that the parts were grouped in some meaningful way. But each bag just seemed to contain a random collection of parts. I decided that just because I did not see the logic, Lego did. So I put the parts from each bag into its own zip lock bag. Then I opened the manual to the first step and began my search for the first part. I quickly realized that this was going to be as much of a three dimensional jig saw puzzle as anything else. By the time I had spent about 45 minutes on Friday deciphering the manual and hunting for individual pieces, I had put together a whopping 10 or so parts. Based on that, I had a really long way to go.

On Saturday I got more serious and hunkered down for a couple of hours. As the crow flies, I completed up through step 26 out of 854. Of course, my build did not go as the crow flies. Instead, I had to backtrack several times as I realized that I had used a wrong part. So I guess I completed about 45 steps in total by the time I finished for the day, but only 26 counted. The good news was that by then I had a pretty good understanding about how to read “Visual Lego.” The fundamental problem I encountered was that I had unintentionally used the wrong part a couple of times. The manual has lots of detailed pictures of tiny parts. The problem for me was that pictures have so little detail that it was difficult to distinguish one part from another based on the pictures in the manual. Then I got smart and googled the instruction manual. I found several YouTubes that walked through each page of the manual in a video. but they added absolutely no value to me. Then I found a pdf of the manual. This find was priceless, as it enabled me to zoom in on the pictures, which gave me a little better sense of what I had to find.

I have also looked at a few blogs about this build and read some postings from other Porsche fanatics on Facebook who are building this same model. It seems that an accomplished builder can get it done in as little as 15 hours. I am not one of them. My current estimate is that it will take me between 50 and 60 hours, depending on my learning curve. The reality is that I do not care. Sure I want to get this done, but I want to enjoy the process along the way.

Kelsea Ballerini At The Wiltern

December 11, 2016 / hkraushaar

12/8/16

Pam and I went to the Wiltern to see Kelsea Ballerini Thursday night. We really like to see shows at the Wiltern, as it is a reasonably intimate venue, seating about 2,200 people. With its small size, Pam and I feel comfortable sitting in the balcony to watch performances, as the sound system and acoustics are good and the view is fine.

Kelsea Ballerini is a young artist in every sense of the word. She is in her early 20s, and this is her first tour as the headliner. This was the first time we saw her perform live. We tried to get tickets to see her last year when she performed at the Troubador, an iconic, but tiny, 500 person venue on the West Hollywood and Beverly Hills border, but it was sold out. So we were happy to see that she was coming back to Los Angeles, and Pam purchased our seats as soon as they became available. In the months leading up to the show, Pam and I had questions about the playlist, as the show was being billed as a holiday show. We both had assumed it would be a regular concert with maybe a holiday song or two in the mix. We were wrong. It must have been billed as a holiday show because it was near the holidays, not because she played any holiday music, which she didn’t and which was just fine as far as Pam was concerned, as she is not the most ardent of holiday music fans.

The opening act, Morgan Evans, was very good. He walked on stage with an acoustic guitar and just took control. Many people eschew opening acts, as opening acts are like Forest Gump’s proverbial box of chocolates: You never know what you are going to get. On Thursday night we got a good one. Playing acoustic guitar accompanied by a loop pedal, Morgan was able to create interesting musical combinations of drum beats, background vocals, and rhythmic guitar chords as he built into each of his songs. He has a great voice and was unbelievably comfortable in front of an audience. He is an Aussie, which amazed us, as he didn’t sound Aussie when he was singing. This should have come as no surprise, as there are many Aussies who sing country music and do not sound Aussi at all. It obviously helped him, though, as he was great as he covered a Keith Urban song. At one point in the show he stated that his job was to warm the audience up for Kelsea, and he did his job rather well. We would enjoy seeing him again.

Kelsea Ballerini took the stage a little while later. She made a dramatic entrance from a door strategically positioned in the middle of the stage. It was a sign that she has spent a lot of time developing her performance style and persona. Her showmanship and stage presence are spot on. She should spend a little more time with her sound board, though. LIke many young artists who have had hits on the radio but have not toured extensively, her team does not mix her songs well as she performs them live. In her case the mix was not far off, but the drums and guitars did overwhelm her vocals on several of the songs. In addition, she came across as screaming instead of singing on a few numbers. This is really unfortunate, as she has a great voice and is an excellent live singer. As usual, the highlight of the show for me was the portion of the show where she sat on a stool and played acoustic guitar. During that time she covered “Tennessee Whiskey” by Chris Stapleton, arguably a very difficult undertaking, but one she pulled off with absolute perfection. I love Chris Stapleton’s version, but, if pressed hard enough, I would probably say I liked her version a tad better. She was just that good.

She has released one album and is working on a second. She played some songs off the new album, and we enjoyed them. She played many songs off her first album, The First Time. All were good, but I especially enjoyed two of her more popular songs, “Peter Pan” and “Dibs.” In total, she played about an hour, which was just about right.

She is very comfortable performing in front of an audience. During the show, she was very interactive with the crowd and very thankful to be in LA. At the beginning of her encore, she actually played right among the fans sitting in the orchestra. She is a great talent, and we look forward to hearing more from her in the future.

912 Blues

December 4, 2016 / hkraushaar

12/4/16

Ever since I changed the coil in my blue 912 a couple of weeks ago, it has been driving beautifully. I have been commuting to work in it two to three days each week with no issues. So yesterday I decided to take it on a more serious road trip, travelling about 40 miles each way. Sure I was a little leery, maybe more than a little leery. I was going to take it down to Seal Beach for the monthly PCA GPX breakfast, something I had not done since early August, when it crapped out on me on the way home, forcing me to hitch a ride on a flatbed to get back. But the 912 was running well, so I figured it was a reasonably safe bet.

Of course, I had to wash it before I went. It was going to see its family so it had to look its best. I was going to leave too early on Saturday morning to wash it before I left so I decided to wash it Friday. Unfortunately for me it was cold and windy late Friday afternoon. I was in shorts and flip-flops as I washed it. Pam thought I was nuts. She was right. I did freeze, but I got it washed and dried, tucked it in for the night with its cover on, and told it to get a good nights rest.

Saturday morning dawned clear and COLD, very COLD, at least by LA standards, which meant the low 40s. In my other cars, equipped with seat warmers and functional heaters and front and rear defrosters, this would not pose any issues. In the 912, the only seat warmer is my backside, and the heater and front and rear defrosters do not work, making the trip a little more irritating to say the least. Because it was pretty dry out and I had kept the 912 covered all night, the front and rear windows had no moisture on them and did not fog up, making the lack of defrosters less of an issue. Unfortunately, I underestimated the cold, and, though I had shoes and socks on instead of flip flops, my tee shirt and sweatshirt were not sufficient barriers to the cold. resulting in a very uncomfortable ride for the 45 minutes or so to Seal Beach.

The good news was that the 912 ran great, enabling me to cruise at 70 to 75 MPH all the way without any issues. When I drive the 912, I drive very differently than when I drive my Cayman GTS. In the Cayman, I am able to react to situations as they occur and use the accelerator in a defensive as well as offensive manner. In the 912, I have to plan ahead, far ahead, as my accelerator is essentially useless as a defensive tool, meaning I cannot accelerate out of trouble. I can only slow down to avoid it. As a result, I drive very passively and assume all other cars are going to cut me off or f**k with me one way or another, forcing me to slow down when I expect it least. Sometimes it is even fun to watch the expressions of disgust on the other drivers as they sit behind me and look for opportunities to get past me.

Despite driving at 70 to 75 MPH, I got passed by just about every other vehicle Saturday morning, including every Prius, which is the ultimate insult to any Porsche, even a 912. It was a humbling experience, but at least I got to see the make and model of every car as it passed me and cut right in front of me. And, as usual, the expressions on the driver’s faces were amusing. As my radio in the 912 seems to have developed an extremely irritating buzzing in the left speaker making music difficult to listen to, focusing on the other vehicles and drivers helped me pass the time and took my mind off the cold.

The 912 made it to the breakfast. I found a great spot to park and was pleased when a 1967 911 (red) and a 1970 911 (green) parked on either side of it. The three cars looked really good together.

It took me a long time to warm up after I parked, and my feet were still cold more than an hour later. Breakfast was fun, and then it was time to get back on the road. The 912 ran really well. I even began to notice just how well. I was feeling good about it. Of course, in the back of my mind I kept thinking, “Don’t jinx it. Don’t jinx it.” On the way back I stopped to buy a new camera, this one with a killer zoom lens and then went home. I left the 912 on the side parking spot, so it would be accessible for Sunday morning driving.

Sunday morning also dawned clear and cold, but I only had to drive a mile or so to the gym, so I was not concerned about the cold. As I walked behind the 912, I noted that something had leaked overnight. So after berating myself for jinxing the car the day before, I just left it where it was parked, moved Pam’s and Kimberly’s cars out of the driveway, started the Cayman and drove to the gym, enjoying the heat as it permeated the cabin. Despite the warmth I was somewhat chilled by the unknown issue causing the leak and felt the 912 Blues beginning anew.

HCAYMAN