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It’s Sort of Like a Porsche (Vol. 4, No. 2) 

As he took the seat next to me on my Denver flight, I learned he was a Coast Guard helicopter pilot.  The ones you see on TV and in the movies.  Flying in impossible weather.  Dropping frogmen into the water.  Snatching crewmen from a heaving deck with a small cable.  The last hope of refugees whose vessel is little more than floating garbage pieced together with rope and wire.

He wanted to know about me.

“Oh, I’m an attorney.  I spend most of my time teaching and practicing conflict resolution.”

I could tell that the lawyer-thing impressed him.  And the part about conflict resolution set me apart from the lawyer-thing that evokes disdain from many of the people I meet.

After the flight was underway, we fell silent.  I became absorbed in the book I had purchased at the newsstand in Portland.  He began reading a magazine devoted to Porsche automobiles.  At one point, I looked over to see him admiring a full-page ad for Zeitner Chronograph – the one where the watches are blown up five times their normal size.

“It would be nice to have one of those,” I commented.

“It is,” he said as he turned his wrist for me to see.

I reached down and pulled my sleeve down to cover my $20 Casio with the scratched crystal.

After the flight attendants served our soft drinks and pretzels, my new-found friend reached into his bag and pulled out the March issue of Automobile. 

“Are you into cars?” he asked.

“I love cars.”

He spoke glowingly of his Porsche Boxster and the way that he felt when he was coursing down a twisting roadway with the wind in his hair and against his face.

“I know what you mean,” I chimed in, “I get the same kind of rush when I’m in my Toyota.”

He looked puzzled.

“Oh, I don’t have a convertible.  I drive a 1990 Camry that needs a new seal around the windshield.”

We, for a few moments, had shared some common ground – a love for powerful, beautiful sports cars.  But my mere love for such machines wasn’t enough.  He wanted to talk to someone who drove them, waxed them, pampered them.

I knew the conversation was over.  People talk.  People make assumptions.  Expectations aren’t met.  Relationships die.

To overcome the awkward moment, he handed me the magazine.  In return, I proudly showed him how my Casio lights up in the dark.  He didn’t answer when I asked him if his Zeitner Chronograph had a light.  I may never know if it was my watch or his that didn’t meet his expectations.

Shine On!

copyright 2004 Joe L Cope