Clutch

There are a lot of things I’ve learned since getting the 944 in November. For one, a 40 year-old car is a lot more than an engine on a set of wheels and tires; it’s got personality, soul, spirit and attitude. It’s also something that you learn will take a lifetime of maintenance, upkeep and finesse to keep running smoothly.

At first, I had a bit of a shock when I started to drive it. Why? Because I had grown accustomed to the features in my Volvo XC90, and had a steep adaptation curve when it came to getting in (literally) the 944. No back-up camera, automatic transmission, heated seats or even 11-speaker stereo system. Then, I started noticing the things in the 944 that didn’t work as perfectly as the XC90, and I began to ask myself if I was ready for a lifetime of repairs and upkeep.

In a lot of ways, most of the bumps in the road were largely my fault. For example, I didn’t learn immediately how important it was to let the car warm up when I took it out for a spin. As a result, many of my earlier drives weren’t as enjoyable as the ones I take now – which now come after giving the car 5-10 minutes of warm-up idling in the driveway before I take to the roads.

It also took weeks for me to get comfortable driving in it. Every part of me was afraid that I’d break something beyond repair, and that I’d be stuck on the side of the road due to my inability to properly drive a manual car. To this date, I’m still a bit nervous at red lights, because I haven’t fully mastered the art of taking off without a stall. However, each drive gets a little bit better and more enjoyable.

Now when I drive her, I get a true sense of enjoyment and satisfaction. When the engine roars to life as I step on the gas, the feeling of it is inexplicable. Each ‘good’ shift of the gears brings a little bit of joy, and I’m finally feeling confident in my ability to drive it the way it was supposed to be driven.

When you’re in first gear, the car can lurch with even the slightest bit of gas. However, as you shift up the gears, the accelearation is more…intentional. You don’t quite feel like you’re going to lunge with each tap of your foot, and it feels good to slip into 4th gear and cruise on the lower RPMS as the engine purrs.

What I learned about myself while driving this car is that my age has operated a lot like the gears of the engine. In first and second gear – or my young-adult and 20’s – I was a lot touchier and prone to emotional ‘lurching’. Now that I’m approaching my 40’s, or 4th gear, I’ve discovered that I’m capable of handling things with more grace and ease than I could in my 20’s.

What has also changed in me is a cold recognition that I’m getting older. While I have yet to get my first gray hair (I’ve tried finding one…) I’m more keenly aware that I’m not the youthful 20-something Aaron Plaat that I used to be.

I don’t spring out of bed with the same energy I used to have. Joints and muscles hurt more than they used to. The craving for perpetual stimulation/distraction has waned, and I now want to have peace, stability and enjoyment of my time and space far more than the younger version of me that sprinted toward the next second before the current one was expired.

When I look in the rearview mirror of my life, I’m mostly proud of the life I’ve lived until this point. I’ve seen the world, met people with different points of view, started over several times, fallen in and out of love and have learned the art of repairing my heart, soul and mind.

When I drive the 944, I’m keenly aware of the relationship I have with the car; there’s no part of me that can be careless when I drive her, because every action I take has a direct imact on the performance of the car and my experience driving it. In similar nature, I’m now keenly aware of the relationship I have with God. Through every twist and turn life has taken me, there has been a divine hand of providence, protection, accountibility and oversight that I can’t deny.

I’d be a fool if I thought I could just get in the 944 and never do any maintenance on the car. Eventually, the car would burst into flames (literally) and grind to a screeching halt. In similar fashion, my life would come to a screeching halt if I stopped checked in with God (as well as myself) on the things in my life that need to be tuned up, replaced or given a thorough inspection.

This weekend, I’m installing a new fuel filter, fuel pump, braided fuel lines, short shifter (and new shift assembly) on the 944 with the help of my trustworthy mechanic. Once the work is done, I fully expect a better experience driving her. For weeks, the idle has been rough and the starts have given indication that the fuel pump is due for a replacement, and I haen’t had full peace driving it after reading about the liabiity the OEM rubber fuel lines have due their precarious placement near the head of the engine.

In similar fashion, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching within myself to ask what my ‘rubber fuel line’ is; the parts of me that can cause a fire if something goes wrong. What I’ve discovered is that I need to be more patient with others, stop cutting people off mid-sentence, and give myself gift of listening to what others have to say – and truly enjoy hearing what’s on their mind, without attempting to change it – or butt in.

Just as I need to give the 944 5-10 minutes to warm up before driving, I’ve also learned that I need to give Atlas time to listen and obey me. When I ask him to do something, I now give myself a ten-second countdown in my head to wait and see if he’ll do it. 95% of the time, it takes about seven seconds; he’s not being disobedient, he’s simply ‘processing’ and it takes him some time to get there. Just like I’d be foolish for hitting 7,000 RPM on a cold start in the 944, I’d be equally foolish to expect Atlas to do everything I ask within a second of asking it.

I think all of us are like the 944 in some way or another. In no way is it a ‘bad car’ because of the way it needs care to operate at its best. Rather, it’s a 40 year-old car that’s dying for somebody to love, care for and appreciate it for what it is.