Sitting there at my Stammgast table at the VENUS (do not ask me why a coffeehouse is named VENUS!), sucking up the battery-acid strength espresso, I recalled that yesterday, I spent some time trolling the various online venues (such as BaT, Haggerty's, etc.) in search of interesting 914 specimens. Not particularly because I'm looking to add another one to my stable but simply to fuel my interest in what's currently available out there, both quality and price-wise, and pass a few otherwise uncommitted moments.

This found me pondering the relative merits of two distinct types of Porsche people that abound today: those who desire purely a drivable car to have fun with and those who want the finest, best-preserved specimen they can possibly find. As a former long-time VW enthusiast and history-minded individual (my degrees are in history), I've always favored the 'Drive 'em, don't hide 'em' philosophy over that of sequestering Porsches like the Hope Diamond as 'collectibles.' And while I certainly CAN afford drivers, I can't, with equal certainly, afford the utterly best specimens available out there.

Of course, this entire paradigmic hypothesis is inextricably linked to one's economic wherewithal. If you have gobs of disposable income, there's nothing wrong with indulging in a rich person's predilections. If, on the other hand, you are retired and just a short distance removed from a 6x3 foot pine box, you must needs be a bit more circumspect in balancing 'wants and needs' or so wifie she's innately frugal like her Chinese ancestors, who reportedly invented copper wire by pinching pennies) tells me.

Unfortunately, it's all I can now do to have bought my single 914-4 (Jezibel) and modestly interact with it. And so I must settle for merely admiring all the beautiful examples of the 914 that surface now and then.

E.F. Schumacher, the German-born English economist who wrote his definitive "Small is Beautiful" essay in the early 70s, and who was very much in sync with the ancient Asian custom of hewing to the middle way, was keen to advocate curtailing needless excesses of any kind in our lifestyle; biographies of him provide much evidence of his keen interest in generalised Buddhist theology, as a matter of fact. As such, he advocated that our American economic model actually contradicts the best interests of maintaining and preserving of our natural world and its resources by discouraging any practice of moderation in material consumption within our society.

We, as good little Americans, are and have always been relentlessly socialised to consume, consume, consume', with absolutely no pause to reflect on what will "adequately" meet our needs versus what exists far in excess of those nominal requirements for us to lead a happy, fulfilled life. Ancient Greece similarly found a similar expression in Aristotle's famous 'Golden Mean', as any traditionally well-educated student is aware. Thus, we Americans are, as a society, ensnared in a quagmire of endless, unlimited collective desire for things and ever more things. In my case (and in many others), for more of my favorite toys...specifically Porsche 914s. Understandably and despite my life-long efforts to resist such social and economic prompting to consume (as the SNL 'Coneheads' did) mass quantities, I still fall prey to stabs of lust when I run across another near-perfect 914 that the little red devil perched on my shoulder tells me I MUST have! And like a child in a candy shop, I pay more attention to that little voice of temptation than I properly ought. Lacking the sort of steely discipline that something like getting through Harvard Law's demanding curriculum required (back when Harvard was still unaffected by the leftist ideological cant that today taints it), I have never been noted for strong self-constraint.

Coming to grips with the question we should all be asking ourselves (namely, How much is enough?) is admittedly a constant battle we are (or should be) all challenged to fight, but it ought still to be at the top of any personal check list for serious rumination, in my opinion. Using my personal circumstances as an appropriate citation, rigidly limiting myself to merely lusting after beautiful 914 specimens has been an economic necessity and the strictures of such self-censure have come rather late to me.

Hence I am where I am today: forcing myself to be practical and settle for a nice little 914 that, while not nearly perfect, is perfect enough for my purposes to provide me with all the driving pleasure and enjoyment I need. As much as I'd like to add a beautiful Cayman to the stable, I am wise enough to understand all the hidden costs and expenses that lurk, like the hidden bulk of a huge iceberg, just below the surface of the deceptively calm water surrounding it and spare myself the grief (real or imagined) that owning a "used but excellent" Cayman specimen will entail.

Again, moderation is the key concept at play here. It's just ironic that it's taken me a whole lifetime to come to grips with and best my never-ending, wildly irrational urges and impulses to acquire more stuff... Isn't it ironic that insight, deeper understanding and real wisdom is only bought with time and experience...both assets that, like a healthy bank account, typically only come with self-discipline and age? By the time the moment comes to take a passenger ride in the Grim Reaper's personal Porsche 550 Spyder, it's usually far too late to benefit from most of all that painfully, arduously acquired wisdom of a lifetime!