Photo Essay: How to Drive Through LA Like Steve McQueen

One of the first things I noticed right after moving to LA was how many people drove Porsches here. I'd never seen so many Porsches. In fact, I'm not sure I'd ever seen any Porsche at all before coming to California.



And now, the (recently renovated) Petersen Automotive Museum has launched an entire exhibit devoted to "The Porsche Effect" and how a Czech engineer began to build a career for himself with German automakers in the 1930s...



...while the United States was still in the thick of the Great Depression...



...and just a few years before the U.S, would go to war with Germany, yet again, in the sequel to what was supposed to be "The War To End All Wars."



It's amazing that Porsche—the man and the car—ever achieved any stateside success at all.



But the exhibit at the Petersen argues that the war contributed to the success of Porsche, which embraced a certain "post-war modernity" that turned out to be the right thing at the right time in the right place. And that turned out to be in 1950, amidst "car-starved" Americans.



It also helps that Hollywood welcomed Porsche with open arms (and pocketbooks) and broadly supported the cars both on screen and off. Steve McQueen famously acquired and raced a 1958 Porsche Speedster and later drove a 1970 racer for his starring role in Le Mans.



In the decades that followed, Porsche had enough creativity, power, and influence to create a prototype of a "21st Century Supercar" (at the turn of the millennium)...



...an "Image-Maker" 911 Turbo model from 1970 that could go 160 mph...



...a 1966 Grand Prix de Paris winner...



...the maker's first winning entry in The 24 Hours of Le Mans race in France, hitting speeds of as much as 220 mph...



...and a desert racer that won the Pharaoh Rally in Egypt in 1985 and the Paris-Dakar Rally in 1986.



But it's always kind of a funny thing to see cars like this trapped inside a museum and watch them spinning on a dais. Don't we want to see what these puppies can do?



That's why I found it much more enlightening and engaging to head down to Carson and spend some time at the Porsche Experience Center, one of two such facilities in the country (the other being in Atlanta).



In addition to a showroom—which acts as kind of its own Porsche Museum—there's the "53-Acre Playground" out back, otherwise known as "The Track."



Yes, you can go there and drive a Porsche.



And you don't have to be a current Porsche owner. You don't have to have ever driven a Porsche before. You can still get behind the wheel—and you'll have your own personal "drive coach" guiding you through the experience.



Isn't it nuts that this exists right across the 405 Freeway from the Goodyear Blimp Base Airport and a stone's throw from the local community Walmart, IKEA, and go-kart racing track?



When you sign up for a "Driving Experience," you get to choose which Porsche model to pilot and which course to navigate your way through...



...whether it's the "Handling Circuit" (meant to mimic a challenging country road), an off-roading course, a racing-style straightaway...



...or one of the several low-friction courses meant to induce skids, spins, and oversteering.



My budget didn't allow me to get behind the wheel when I last visited. After all, the affordable experiences range from $235 to $385, and the Steve McQueen-style experiences run upwards of $1000.



I settled for dinner at the Restaurant 917, where I enjoyed butter molded in the shape of Porsche cars...



...and snacked on dessert chocolates molded in the shape of the Porsche insignia.

I promised myself I would go back and drive one day—but not because I want to "fit in" with all those other Angelenos who are rolling up in their Porsche Carrera GTs (the car, by the way, that took actor Paul Walker's life in a fiery crash).

I quite prefer having my day-to-day set of wheels be something unimpressive and unremarkable. Nobody will want to break into it or steal it. And cops won't target me for random traffic stops.

I just want to see what those puppies can do.

Related Posts:
Life Is a Highway
Unfinished Business
The Need for Speed
Off to the Races, Part One
Off to the Races, Part Two
Another Missed Calling

The Intricate Dance of Herding Sheep

"I gotta go," I announced to my brunch companions this past Saturday. "I just scored tickets to this weird sheepherding performance later this afternoon."

After a moment of puzzlement, my friend Phil broke the silence with, "That's not something you hear every day."

Unless, of course, you're friends with me.



I was lured to the historic polo field at Will Rogers State Park by something called Doggie Hamlet—some kind of interpretive dance performance starring some sheepdogs, sheep, and dancers.



Well, two out of three ain't bad.



I can't say I understood a thing about this "3-D pastoral poem"—and I'm not sure that I was supposed to.



But sitting behind that temporary fence, perched upon a bale of hay, I got to thinking about sheep, safety, and power.



In sheepherding, there are, of course, the fluffy beasts of the orvine variety—but there are also the herding dogs, sometimes just one for a flock of 1000 sheep.



And the dogs take their cues from the shepherd, who doesn't do much direct herding of sheep, but is still an essential part of the equation.



Snarky humans criticize sheep for being mindless followers, using that old insult, "sheeple."



But if sheep were so dumb, they wouldn't bother to pay attention to their canine master.



They wouldn't flow into the hypnotic patterns that keep them safe as one undulating mass.



They somehow know that if they disperse, they'll die.



And it's to their advantage to stay living—at least long enough to reproduce.



But they can't do it alone.



And there's nothing weak about taking help when you need it, maintaining safety in numbers, or even obeying—as long as your obedience benefits you in the long run (by, say, ensuring your survival).



God-fearing Bible readers will recall passage after passage in scripture that refers to shepherds keeping watch over their flocks. Sheep are mentioned in the Bible more than any other animal is—mainly used as an analogy for God's followers.

And yet, the "Lamb of God" was also the Big Guy's supposed one and only son—who was much more a leader than a follower, if you believe the stories that have been told.

Maybe atheists and agnostics are the ones who scoff at sheep.

But even if they're not God's creatures (and even if there is no God), their synchronized choreography is something to be admired.

After all, every dancer needs a choreographer.

And every sheep needs a shepherd.

Related Posts:
Photo Essay: The Healing Powers of Highland Springs
Photo Essay: Hiking with Baby Goats

On This Side There Are Also Dreams (De Este Lado Tambien Hay Sueños)

I was just in Mexico.



So, why would I need to go back just two weeks later?



Well, there's so much more to see after crossing the border.



After all, up until this point, all my visit to Tijuana have been cultural in nature.



I've climbed up inside La Mona. I've spent the night in a tent in the middle of a misty winery.



I'd even eaten churros by the border fence at Friendship Park (El Parque de la Amistad).



But I hadn't really looked through to the other side at my own country.



I hadn't really seen it through the lens of Mexico and Mexicans.



And the last time I'd visited that border fence that stretches out into the Pacific Ocean, Trump hadn't yet been elected president.



Of course, this isn't his "big, beautiful wall" at the border.



It's not a wall at all, but a fence.



And I have the sneaking suspicion our current president didn't realize that it had been built as recently as 2012—during the Obama administration.



He still may not realize that. After all, his level of rhetoric was strikingly absent from the construction of this border structure.



And when it dawns on him, he may choose to tear it all down and replace it with his new wall. We don't really know what's going to happen.



But by all appearances, the new border wall project status is "full steam ahead"...



...and given all the surveillance that already exists at our border crossings, it's kind of amazing that anybody sneaks through.



"Do you think all these warnings of venomous animals actually deter anyone from hopping the fence?" I asked our guide, an ex-Patriot who's made a life and business for himself in Tijuana.



"i'm sure they're scared," he said, "But they've come so far, they can't stop now."



That's because the majority of "illegals" that are crossing into the U.S, via Tijuana aren't actually Mexican. They're coming from Honduras, Haiti, Brazil, elsewhere in the Caribbean and Central and South America, and even India. And many of them walked here.



Of course, some of the existing border fence is more symbolic than functional. The stretch made out of corrugated steel looks easy enough to climb if you get a good enough running start.



It's actually an appropriate spot for the U.S. to have erected its prototypes of the "new" wall...



...though American citizen civilians aren't allowed to go there and view them.



You can see them pretty well from the Mexican side, though—especially if you have a ladder.



This spot is also where a number of painters have chosen to adorn the fence with murals and political messages.



"Is it illegal?" I again asked our guide. "Is it considered vandalism?"



"Maybe," he said. "But I bet the U.S. Border Patrol doesn't really care what they do on the Mexico side, as long as they don't cross over."



We spent nearly the entire day along the U.S./Mexico border, staring at a fence that hasn't done a very good job at keeping desperate migrants out, and wondering how any new wall would be any different.



We ended our day at boundary monument #254...



...near the Tijuana Airport (Aeropuerto Internacional de Tijuana)...



...where those who have crossed have etched their names into the wall.



There, like at the coast, it's been painted somewhat of a sky blue so as to make it almost disappear...



...though the rusty spots surely give it away.



There are other names, emblazoned on the crossbars of makeshift crucifixes, memorializing those who've died trying to cross (though not necessary right at this spot).



And yet there are holes in the fence, too—a sign of either the natural buckling of rusted metal in the heat and sun or the aborted attempt the break through (rather than climb over) with a crowbar.



Of course, we didn't see anybody scoping out the wall while we were there. Maybe they wait for the chill of twilight, to traverse under the cover of night.

Maybe those who dare to cross are thinking twice about where they're headed—that the "American Dream" isn't for just anyone. Maybe Tijuana can become the end of the line for those who try to escape the horrors of their homelands.

Maybe they can make their dreams come true there. The United States of America seems to be becoming more and more the land of broken dreams.

Related Posts:
Crossing the Border (Cruzando la Frontera)
Photo Essay: A Day on the Other Side of the Wall
Photo Essay: The Visiting Tall Ship of the Mexican Navy (Armada de México)