January / February 2015
23
French definitely walk to a
different drummer.
Now seeing the latest
things on four wheels was
no easy task. The crowds
that Saturday rivaled those
at Disney World on the 4th
of July. Thankfully most
French men and women
carry some of Napoleons'
genes, so my 6'4" height
allowed me to shoot photos
without heads blocking my
view.
Porsche was represented
with what I thought was a
rather sanitized display of
white and silver models
sitting on an elevated
white carpeted platform,
access being restricted to a
privileged few. Fortunately
I had brought my Porsche
Club ID. Waving it from
deep in the crowd, Lynn and
I were spotted within the
masses and escorted past
security and on to the stage.
Once in to the promise land I
gazed at the various models
scattered about. I was
disappointed that no 918s or
LeMans 919s were in sight,
but that makes for a great
excuse to attend Rennsport
next year at Laguna Seca.
Many hours later, after
tiring of playing the part
of human pin balls, we
bulldozed our way to the
exits with sore feet and
bruised ribs. However, big
smiles crossed our faces after
seeing firsthand the best that
the automotive world had to
offer.
Oh, and I did not forget
that this was our anniversary.
That evening Nancy and I
toasted our life together over
dinner, high above Paris,
at the Eiffel Tower. Paris,
romance and cars. It doesn't
get any better than that.
- Jim
