When I was younger, my Dad used to tell me something that I’ll never forget; usually, it was when he was dropping me off for my saxophone lessons. The memories of him saying it are so vivid that I can still remember the exact time, place and spot on the road where he said it; one time on a particular curve on Godown road, and another was right at the entrance of Music Go Round.
“Aaron, I could have had you or a Porsche.”
My Dad never meant it in a harmful way, nor was it received as such. Rather, I think he was giving me a painfully-true statement about the cost of having children; kids are expensive – so are saxophone lessons. Little did I know it at the time, but he was preparing me for the day where I’d be a Dad myself.
The Porsche my Dad referenced wasn’t a 911 Turbo. No, he didn’t fit in those. Rather, it was a Porsche 944; not the most expensive Porsche on the road, and not the cheapest – due to it no longer being in production. To car enthusiasts, the 944 is a true gem, because it represents a timeless design and a wholly mechanical car without any expensive electronics to repair as time goes by….just mechanical components that only specialists will work on.
I truly understood what my Dad meant when he told me that infamous quote. At the time, he was driving a Ford Probe GT – a far cry from the beauty of the 944. Even though he drove that car like a race car, I knew he’d much rather have his beloved 944. When he told me those words, it made me appreciate my saxophone lessons even more. It really did.
A few years after he died, I was in a place that helped shape me as a man; ‘the shop’ a large industrial warehouse on the East Side of Columbus, operated by a man who took me under his wing after Dad died. The sights, sounds and smells of ‘the shop’ are also forever etched in my memory. He and I had an odd symbiotic relationship at that time (and still do) because I was recognizing that I would go thorugh life without a Dad, and he was likely at the point of his life where he recognized he would never have a son. Whether the last part is how he felt or not, I can only speculate.
I learned a lof of things at the shop, as well as got hands-on training on how to use tools like welding equipment, CNC cutters, forklifts and high-end automotive paint guns – the kind that are used to paint Ferraris, priced at no less than $1500 per gun. I also got put to work until my clothes were covered in dust, grime and sweat.
It was paradise.
One afternoon, I was at the shop and noticed an old Porsche parked between two forklifts.
“Nate, what are you going to do with that Porsche?” I asked.
He told me all about the plans he had for the car and the modifications he was going to make in order to turn it into a dream car before selling it. I inquired about the price and he told me “XXX”.
I shook his hand on the spot and told him I’d buy the car. It was a deal, sealed in sweat and grime – and probably a few bits of fiberglass splinters…
Years went by and slowly, I watched as the car evolved.

There was a lot of work to be done on that car, which I participated in from time to time. One afternoon, I spent about four hours wet-sanding the passenger side door; something I knew I’d remember whenever it came time to open the door for my future wife…yet, those hours weren’t even representative of a fraction of time that Nate spent working on the vehicle.
The detail he went through on the car was remarkable. Between shaving down the piston heads to reduce weight (and increase horsepower) to 3D printing new air vents for the interior of the car and re-upholstering the dashboard with leather, he spent a tremendous amount of time on the smallest of details – far more time and attention than I ever anticipated.

They say that good things come to those that wait. This car certainly put those words to the test, as a lot of life happened for me during the time it being restored; I moved cities several times, went through a majority of my career growth and even became a Dad during the timeframe it was being restored.

Between visits to Columbus, I’d often take members of my family to see the work in progress.

And eventually…my son.

I remember sitting on the balcony of the high-rise where I lived in Oakland, and reflecting on my Dads words to me:
“Aaron, I could have had you or a Porsche.”
That’s when his words really made sense to me. He was telling me that if I played my cards right, I woudn’t have to choose ‘this or that’ someday – but rather, ‘both-and’. He was teaching me that it’s possible to have your cake and eat it too, but you have to be willing to do the work, make room in your garage and build a life that can accomodate both want and need.
I realized that just like his words, perhaps this Porsche would one day be passed along to my future son, and I set out in my mind that if I ever became a Dad, I would give this car to my son, teach him how to care for it and use it as a working object lesson for how to live a great life.
Years passed from that moment, and I continued to change, grow up and develop – just like the Porsche. No longer a world-traveler, partier or wild child, I had become a Dad, grown roots in the suburbs, moved into the perfect home and established myself as a consultant with healthy anchor clients that I’ve had for half a decade – and counting.
I grew up.
One day, the work was done – on the Porsche.

No longer a ‘seeker’ or somebody who struggled to understand who I was, what I believed in or what I wanted from life, I now had firm definitions for many of the question-marks that plagued my 20’s and early 30’s – which now begin their fade in the rearview mirror of life.
I became me…and started living like it.
…and the 944 began its cross-country trek to Texas.

The interior, wrapped in plastic like a Christmas present – Nate didn’t want to risk any chance of it being damaged during the trip.

After all, it would be a shame to ruin any of the hard work he had done on the interior…

Days later, she arrived. I was fortunate enough to have Atlas that day, and he was as ecstatic as I was when it arrived.

Carefully lifting Atlas into the car (he was wearing cleats) I let him be the first one to sit in the car.

Next, he wanted to inspect the engine.

Finally, it was my turn to sit in the car with him and I got into it for the first time in years.

That picture was taken nearly a month ago, which is where the car sat without being driven. Why? Because of a paperwork snafu, the title had to be re-issued, which took several weeks to iron out.
Yesterday, Atlas and I went to the Texas Tax Auditors office and completed the registration for the car…finally receiving plates.

I took Atlas out for celebratory ice cream at Braums, which was a hat-tip to the Plaat family tradition of getting Dairy Queen whenever our family got a new car.
While we were sitting at Braums, Atlas exclaimed:
“Dad! I know what we should call the Porsche!”
“What’s that, Atlas?”
He looked up at me with a big grin on his face:
“The judge!”
And thus, the 944 got its name.
This morning after I dropped off Atlas (in my XC90), I realized there wasn’t anything holding me back from taking her out for the first ride. No calls, missing plates or mechanical issues. It was finally time to take it for its first ride.
What happened? I froze.
I was scared.
I called several of my friends to see if they’d be willing to give me a driving lesson. None were available. Then, I called Nate and asked if he had any last-minute pointers, as it had been nearly 20 years since I’d driven a manual car. He was quite happy to give me a rundown of the operations and what to look out for when operating it.
I’m not sure why I was afraid to drive it. Perhaps it was fear of stalling, fear of embarassment, or even fear of breaking the car. It was probably all of it.
Then, I thought about my Dad. I thought about the moments I’d have with Atlas in the car. I thought about my first date…all of those moments required me to learn how to drive it – as well as get past even more fears than the ones I had before turning the key.
I decided to give myself a crash course on manual car operation (via YouTube) and decided it was go-time.
For almost an hour, I drove around the neighborhood streets – practicing my starts, stops, turns and acceleration in the car before noticing it was nearly on E. That’s when I knew it was time to hit the gas station and a busy local road before heading home.

Standing there at the station, I felt a joy, peace and calm. After so many years of waiting, I’m finally the proud owner of a Porsche…the Porsche.
And someday, I’ll be able to tell Atlas:
“I got to have you…AND a Porsche.”
To Nate:
Thank you for making this dream a reality, as well as pouring in far more hours into me than you have the Porsche.
I wouldn’t be the man, Dad, entrepreneur or creative if it weren’t for the time, love and hours you have invested into our relationship.
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