Patience, the Ancients say, is a Virtue. All Things come to He Who Waits, which might explain why the Maestro- a Type "A" Personality if there ever was one- never had much. (Until he met Mrs. Maestro, of course.) Before that, he was Too Impatient. Haste Makes Waste. Try to get Rich too quickly and you get Poor fast. As the Maestro found out in the Stock Market in the early '70's.

One of the few Good Things about the Passage of Time is that Maturity results,...sometimes. Having reached it, one decides Maturity is a Good Thing.

The Best Definition of what it Means to be Mature: Baby Bull to Father Bull: "Hey Dad, let's RUN down the Hill, JUMP across the Fence, RUN across the field and Have Relations with one of them Cows!" "No, son. Let's WALK down the Hill, WALK through the OPEN GATE, WALK across the field and Have Relations with ALL the Cows!!!" Now, THAT'S the kind of Definition that gives Maturity a Good Name. With Maturity comes Patience. And with Patience comes, All Things. Even Good 356's.

The Maestro maintains a Data Base of Buyers & Sellers of 356's on his Computer, with Sophisticated Software to maximize the "Hits". Unfortunately, most all the Buyers want Cabriolets or Speedsters for $5 grand or less, and most all the Sellers want 25 Grand or more, so few of these Matches are made in Heaven. However, Every Now And Then someone Calls the Maestro's Hot Line (408) 727-1864 with a Reasonable Request- like a Nice 356B Coupe for oh, say around 10 Grand. That the Maestro had on File- a Original Owner California Car Female Owner too! That was almost true- it was really the girl's first husband's 356. She got it in the Divorce. But it became HER car. Now remarried to the head of the Space Telescope Project, the girl's poor 356 was languishing in a Nice Part of Town, running only 2000 miles in 10 years. That was the Good News. The Bad News was that BOTH the the Body Work and the Engine Rebuild were done by the WORST SHOPS IN TOWN! Both fortunately & mercifully Out Of Business. Having work done by ONE of these shops meant a Cursed Porsche. Being unlucky enough to have the work done by BOTH meant you were REALLY Cursed. (The Effect being MORE than double- "n" Turkeys working "z" things on a 356 can screw it up EXPONENTIALLY! (n**z)) Which may explain why only 2,000 miles were clocked in 10 years! In fact, the Body work was done by the Maestro's NemesisNocturnal Aviation- a real Fly By Night operation. Their lack of quality was obvious- as evidenced by not only the general paint overspray, but by the TIRE BLACK overspray on the pitted, replacement Chrome Wheel, supplied by Nocturnal Aviation. Whatever happened to the Good, Original Chrome Wheels is left to the Reader's Imagination.

The Engine rebuild was done by Malex's Porsche House, also Out of Business, and from the Work Order listing NO Valves or guides charged, that may have accounted for the Blue Smoke behind the car. Then too, it might be Act 1, Scene 1, Ring 1 of the 2-Act Big Bore Ring Land Breakage Play that Malex's produced from the way too high Compression Ratio. Did Malex's adjust the Compression Ratio for Long Life? Is the Pope Jewish? Anyhow, the Owner of the 1963 356B drove it out to the Maestro's Machine Shop for a Closer Inspection. Gee, Not Bad, thought the Maestro. The Paint Job is a 10 footer- looks good at 10 feet or more. Most everything Works. It's a Bona-Fide Original California Car. Onewoman Owner. All Good Signs. But could the Maestro overcome the Terrible Influence of TWO SuperTurkeys??? Especially since the potential Buyer in Chicago wanted to DRIVE it across the USA. Buy hey, there ain't no Guarantees in Life. Not even at Ferrari of Lost Cathouse where cars worth Hundreds of Thousands of Dollars come with Window Stickers that say- "AS IS- NO WARRANTY!"

So, WOULD the Maestro try to exorcise the Demons from the Twice Dead Shops that were hiding throughout the poor 356. COULD he? Hell, ifin he didn't, he wouldn't be The Maestro!

In February of '89, Patience Paid off when the Maestro got the call from Chi town. A Buyer wanted a Coupe. And was willing to pay a Reasonable Price. The Maestro and the Computer both thought of the '63 B and called the Owner. Yes it was still available. Yes they still wanted to sell it. Yes they would bring it in for the Maestro to eyeball again and Video Tape for the guy in Chicago. And sho' 'nough the Maestro brought out his Video Camera and did as walk-around pointing out the Good and Bad features of the floor area- the ONLY noticeable rust in the entire car! Even the bland engine was filmed, with the Maestro pointing out the blandness- the spray-canned sheet metal, the wrong nuts and bolts throughout- and ESPECIALLY- the VW distributor with the 3 foot long wire wrapped three times around the Distributor like a hangman's Noose. For Bad Luck. As is Typical of Turkeys, the Volkswagen .009 Distributor was installed Bass-Ackwards- with the Capacitor stuck out to the rear- in the same plane as the fan belt. Turkeys do this so that when the fan belt breaks, the pieces take out the Capacitor, and maybe the Distributor- which leaves you even more broken down than having "just" a broken fan belt.

The Maestro took the 356 for a Drive down his Airport Test Track. ?Zooming down the runway, the Maestro thought- Geez- Not Bad, the gearshift lever vibrates a little from Loose Bushingitis, but the synchros feel good, the Ring and Pinion Noise is low key. But Most of All- the Feeling of a Good 356 permeates the Interior! The vibes are Good. About the only thing that didn't work was the Tach, which the Maestro asked about. The Owner said: "Oh the Tach. Right. It began making a lot of noise one day- so we disconnected the Cable". "Oh, said the Maestro. "That's a good reason why it doesn't work. The Maestro ran her through the gears several times. The Gears were good. Everything Worked, except for the interior turn signal blinker on Left hand turns. But that's par for the Porsche Course- the turn signals on Trusty Rusty- the Maestro's Winter 356 don't work at all INSIDE but work just fine OUTSIDE! Even the GAS GAUGE worked! An Unusual Event for the Maestro used to seeing unworking gas gauges in HIS 356's for so long that he forgot that others actually WORK! (And ifin the Gas Gauge DOES work- you'd best be Thankful. One Customer spent a hundred and a half American to tow his 356 from San Fran to the Maestro's Shop. It had stalled on his wife in the middle of a San Fran Intersection. She pushed it out of the way, but it got out of control and smashed into a Fire Hydrant- smashing the front bumper in and wrinkling the nose a little. When the car was winched down from the trailor, the Maestro's magic hand turned the key to "ON" and noticed the gas gauge move a little- a very little. He tried firing her up- she DID! The Maestro reached down to check Reserve- and found he couldn't get Reserve. A 6-12 volt converter had been installed right in the way of Reserve! She had RUN OUT OF GAS! And Reserve could not be activated!) Which is why ifin your Gas Gauge works, it is best to heed it, thought the Maestro. But he does digress.

Getting back to the 356B the Maestro was Inspecting- the Radio was a weirdo Universal, 6 OR 12 Volt, Negative OR Positive Ground, Japanese Super Cheap. Decidedly Non-Blaupunkt. The Maestro warned the Owner/passenger and hauled on the binders. The front brakes squealed and thumped under the hard braking. Nocturnal Aviation mustave done a brake job too, thought the Maestro. Feels like out-of-round drums. Sure hope she's not like Trusty Rusty who need all FOUR Drums replaced before the thumping was exorcised! But the 356 ran rather well- and the Maestro filmed that- a parting shot of the car driving away Down The Road, not so Subliminally hinting:"wouldn't YOU like to Own this 356?" The Maestro said to the Owner's Husband. "Are you Authorized to make a Deal?" "Yes, I'm Authorized- she wants me to do it." "OK, then what I'd like is an Option to buy it for the Agreed-upon price for One Week- 'till the end of February. If it's to be done, it best it be done quickly. A Handshake between the Maestro and the Owner sealed the Deal. What no Paper? No Signed Agreement? That's Right. Ifin you can't Trust the Maestro and the Head of the Space Telescope Project to keep their Word, who can't you trust???

On Monday, the Maestro Federal Expressed the Video Tape to the Buyer in Chicago. On Tuesday the Buyer called. "I got the Tape, and I like the Car", said the Buyer. "I WANT the Car. But I have to talk it over with my Wife." Ah, yes, thought the Maestro- "I must Talk it over with the Wife" is the Universal Weasel Word for getting out of a potential Deal. It's the Adult Version of "I think I hear my Mother calling". But for one of the few times in his LIfe, the Maestro was Wrong! For the next day the Buyer called back and said- "I talked it over with my Wife- and she AGREED. The Deal is ON! I want to BUY the car!" And so, with Confirmation in hand, the Maestro called back the Owner and said- "Well, I'd like to exercise my Option to buy your car. Do we still have a Deal?" "Sigh, said the Owner- "Yes, we have a Deal. It is Time." And so that Saturday, the Owner's Husband drove the 356 through the 10 Ton Titanium Doors of the Maestro' Humble Abode.

The Laser Disintegrator was warned in advanced and granted him Safe Passage. The Wife- the Real Owner- drove up to pick up her husband- in a new, Sporty HonDatToy, and with a Tear in her Eye eyeballed her 356 for the Last Time. They had grown up together. Spent their Formative years together. Through College. Through the First Marriage and well into the Second. Through Life. Said she sadly: "I remember this car getting me home after the Cast Parties at College. To this day I don't know how I got home those nights. The car seemed to know where home was and how to get to it. "Ah, yes said the Maestro. How well I too remember those Formative Years." "But, said she looking at the Maestro with misty eyes, "we don't do those things Anymore, do we? "No, said he Maestro. "Because we're Much More Mature now. RIGHT!!! They both cried! The ice broken, the Maestro asked the Owner ifin she knew of any Idiosyncrocies the 356 might have. She thought for a while. Mentioned the turn signal. And trailed off with- that's about it. "Oh yes- as we said, the Tach doesn't work- it made a loud screeching sound. So I disconnected it." That's All? Asked the Maestro. You don't have to turn the Ignition key to the LEFT before turning the right to start it? Or pat it three times on the gearshift knob? Or do a little dance beforehand? "No no. She's been a Good Car and I hate to see her go. But we've only driven her 2000 miles in 10 years, so .... The Maestro Knew. Changes are Painful. Twenty Year Car Relationships all the more so. "She'll go to a Good Home the Maestro Promised . A Tear for You, and a Tear for Me. And one for under the Apple Tree. They drove away.

The Maestro grabbed his Windbreaker, hopped in his new 356 and headed for Harry's and the Black Forest Ham & Gooda Cheese Sandwich for lunch and thence to the Shop to perform the Demon Exorcism described in "What To Do When You Get It Home" Section of "Secrets of the Inner Circle" As he accelerated down the Onramp to Freeway Speeds (which in California means the Speed Limit +10 MPH), the gearshifter started rattling- almost like an admonition not to drive so hard. The Maestro took it under advisement and shifted. The rattling stopped, but he held his hand a little tighter on her gearshift knob. Just to let her know he knew. Down the 280 Freeway he drove- in the Machined Fast Lane at a Steady Seventy Checking Her Out. Not bad. Pretty Stable at speed. He turned on the Supercheap Radio., It let out a Fraction of a Second Scream of music that decreased Exponential to Nothing Humans can hear. It was a sound the Maestro has heard before from bad Radios of the Past. Ones he's never been able to fix! Sigh. No Tunes. Maybe one of the old Blaupunkts AM's still works. The Maestro looked at the Tach- the needle rested at 0. Looks like the girl was right, he thought- The tach sure doesn't work. Maybe I'll try connecting up the cable eventually. "Hey, don't worry old Girl- you might even like Chicago!" Could a California Girl find happiness in Chicago? She thought about it for a second. And started to sputter. Sputter. Sputter. Whazzat?, thought the Maestro. Are we playing games THIS quickly? Sputter. Sputter. Answered the 356. Guess so, concluded the Maestro. Hope it's not by the Side of Seventeen. The Maestro looked at the Trip Odo. Oho! 158 Miles. Maybe she's just out of gas. The Maestro's right hand reached down and Switched to Reserve. No Change. Still Sputter Sputter. Well, at least her reserve WORKS! The 356 slowed to am embarrassing 50 MPH. The Maestro got over in the Right Lane. Would it be what the Worst of the Cursed 356's doBreakdown in The Bad Part of Town? It wasn't.

The Maestro using Years of practiced skill nursed the cursed 356- now running on 2.4 cylinders- into the Chevron Station near the Shop. And filled up with 2.8 gallons of Chevron's Finest 92 Octane Unleaded. Guess she wasn't out of gas, concluded the Maestro correctly. Must be the carbs, needle valve or something. Suddenly the Maestro had a Connection! A Flash of Inspiration. Geez- wouldn't it be great ifin it were only what Trusty Rusty had- a clogged Fuel Filter. But somehow, the Maestro knew it wouldn't be Something Simple. The Maestro nursed his new Dark Blue Baby into the parking lot of his Shop, backed her into the stall for easier access and opened the Door. The Sun chose that time to shine through the clouds, illuminating the the Silicon Valley and the Red Upholstery inside. One of the Maestro's Favorite Color Combinations. Before Starting the What To Do When You Get It Home Procedure, it's nice to see where Things Stand.

So, the Maestro disconnected the Inlet Oil Line to the Filter and installed his Handy Dandy $5 Mechanical Oil Pressure Gauge on the now-free end of the Oil Filter Inlet Line. Thus Reading Engine Oil Pressure. And fired the old girl up. Not bad, said the Maestro- looking at the Gauge, 40 PSI at Idle. Let's see what she'll do at 3000 RPM. He revved the Engine up and a cloud of blue smoke enveloped his being. Reading the gauge through the haze, the Maestro squited- Looks like 55 Pounds at 3000 RPM. Almost as good as as Maestromassaged Engine. Malex's mustave just replaced the bearings and the Crank & Case was fine. THAT's probably the real Reason for the good oil pressure. Time to get On with it. Out came the Drain Pan. Off came the 10 nuts on the Drain Platealong with 6 of the studs overtorqed during the last oil change at Malex's. The Maestro eyeballed the Screen- and found LOTS to eyeball. Oh Boy, said the Center of Higher Reasoning- look at all that CRUD inside. Isszat Bearing Material or what? The Maestro sent in his well-trained Finger Probe to investigate. The finger found Sludge and Goo and Emulsified Mixtures of Oil & Water. But no Bearing or Powder Piston Pieces. The Maestro whispered to the new girl on his block. Now, I'm gonna have to inspect you further. Don't be embarrassed. I've done the Cleansing Ritual before. Trust me. And proceeded to clean out the sludge from inside the case. That messy but necessary operation over, the Maestro figured he'd better de-Demon the Oil Filter Can too. So he grabbed his 12 mm wrench and loosened the nut on the outlet oil line and pulled it loose. Of course, BEFORE he loosened the strap bolt, he was smart enough to loosen the Big Bolt on top of the Oil Filter Can. That done, he loosened the clamp and removed the entire Oil Filter Can- filter, oil and all. Looking at the top of the oil filter, which acts like a gold-miner's pan- the Maestro was relieved to see NO metal particles on top of the Filter. But appalled he was when he removed the oil filter, to find 2 inches of Sludge in the bottom. Sludge from 10 years and 2000 miles- probably from being moved 20 feet at a time! Looks like we gotta hafta use the Maestro's Sludge Removal Procedure on her. Which consists of changing the oil and filter, filling up with Pennzoil's finest 20W-50 and driving the car until the oil gets Black or 200 miles go by, whichever comes first. Then drop the screen and change the oil again- while the engine is Hot.

As soon as you can stand it, Reach up inside case and scrape out all the crud you can get. Repeat again in 200 mile increments, until the oil stays clean or the engine dies, whichever comes first. Thence go to 1000 mile and finally 2000 mile oil changes. The Maestro has brought a 1963 VW, a 1980 BMW and Several Porsches back to Life from the Clutches of Blackie Carbon and Slimy Sludge. The Concours Nut suffers from This Particular Problem too- for he drives his car way too little- and the Varnish, Gum and Sludge muck up the Werks. While playing Gynecologist/Proctologist under the Car, the Maestro noticed that Malex's had failed to install the Clamps on the J Tube to muffler connection. And there were NO Tailpipes coming off the stock muffler and going through the bumper guards. In their place were two El Cheapo exhaust tips- which made the engine sound like it had an extractor exhaust. It was far too noisy for safe Law Enforcement Avoidance. OK, Girl- I'm a-gonna give you a pair of Cad II Plated Clamps with NEW Nuts and replace those stupid muffler pipes with Stock ones. I think you might like that. Which is what the Maestro Did. While there, he also adjusted the valves, finding three intakes too tight. On the 3/4 Side, he rerouted the Tach Cable a bit so it would be well-hung like the Factory intended. Then he Cleaned and reinstalled the Drain Plate and Screen with Original Gaskets and 6 new 6mm studs (a lucky number) and crawled out from under. Back topside, the Maestro popped off the top of the flip-top box Oil Filler Can - and noticed another of Malex's Ingenious Modification of Porsche Parts that best be left unmodified.

Looks Like the large rubber seal inside the top of the Flip-Top Box Oil Filler went AWOL during reassembly at Malex's. So Malex installed a cork gasket- which was less than 1/8" thick- half the thickness of the Rubber Seal that should have been there. Not only was the Top rattling, but the cork gasket was about to fall Into the Cam Gear Teeth Down Below! The Maestro carefully scraped all the old cork off and stuck in a nearly new Original rubber gasket. She'll like this I know. Then he glanced at the Double-Oh-Nine Volkswagen Distributor with the 3 foot long Green coil wire meant for a VW bus that was wrapped thrice 'round the distributor- like a hangman's noose. UGLY! And WRONG!!! You outta here! Out, Out, dammed Oh Oh Nine. As he went to loosen the Distributor Clamp, he noticed yet another of Malex's Mods- the Distributor Clamp was NOT Porsche but some oddball VW clamp. Ah, such taste Malex had, thought the Maestroeven the itty bitty details are done WRONG! So, the Maestro went to his Spare Parts bin and asked the Distributor Clamps for a Volunteer. The right one stood at attention. The Maestro installed a new Distributor Shaft Seal and popped the new .050 in. And cranked the engine. It wouldn't start. DAMN. said the Maestroanother .050 with Brazilian Banana oil Something on the points that prevents current from passing and spark from occurring. INCIDENTALLY- ifin you buy an .050 from the Maestro- he will TELL you the Secret on how to make them WORK! Ifin you buy from Others, who ah,... may not know the Secret, they CAN'T tell you the Secret. Like the Maestro can. And Will.

Right now: Taking his trusty file, the Maestro filed the points a few good strokes, removing the Brazilian Banana Oil thereon. Then he turned the Ignition key to "On", and opened the points with a screwdriver, looking for a small spark at the points. Eventually he found a small spark at the points, A reward for his efforts. He installed the Rotor, put the Distributor cap back on and turned the key to "Start". This time she Fired up. And ignited the Gasoline in the muffer from the last attempt: "POW!!!" She retorted. Ah, Come on said the Maestro- you'll like this better than the .009. Trust me., That convinced her to idle, and with his trusty timing light the Maestro rotated the new .050 and Timed it to 31.356 Degrees Advanced above 3,000 RPM just to see how the old girl'll do. She did well. Even had a nice even idle. The Maestro began to adjust the Carbs- now made possible by doing EVERYTHING ELSE FIRSTadjusting the Valves, Timing the Distributor and checking the plugs The Maestro screwed the idle mixture screw in on #1 cylinder. It began to kill the cylinder. He screwed it out a little. The Cylinder came back to life. Wow! Thought the Maestro- the Zenith actually ADJUSTS! There is Hope. Placing his left hand on the fan shroud, the Maestro whispered Heal Thyself, and found the position she liked the best on all four idle mixture screws. The Zeniths adjusted Rather Well, considering. Then the Maestro glanced at the fuel filter. It had Rusty's Signature all over it! Brown and full of crud. Like one of California's former governors. Sho' 'nough- when the Maestro replaced the filter, rust-colored crud poured out. AHA! shouted the MaestroI'll bet THAT was the cause of the "running out of gas syndrome!" Boy, was that Easy! Finally, as the sun was setting, and the Rain Starting, the Maestro was done for the Day.

As his Proof Test, he reached in to the Car through the Driver's Window to fire her up after the tune-up. she fired right up and idled at 1000 RPM on the Tach., IT IDLED AT 1000 RPM ON THE TACH! HOW CAN THAT BE? I Hear you cry. The TACH isn't even hooked up! Remember Maestro? The Owners DISCONNECTED The TACH! And it's a MECHANICAL Tach! A DISCONNECTED Mechanical Tach! With an Air Gap between the Cable and the Instrument! And an air gap doesn't transmit torque too well. I know that and you know that. But let me tell youThe Maestro hadn't touched the TACH! This 356 was Most Definitely- HAUNTED!!! Play that "Twilight Zone" Theme again, Sam. The Maestro didn't want to see what Demon was driving the Tach under the dash. He just Believed the Old Girl mustave liked something he did! And y'know what- she DID! 'Cause she didn't miss a beat on the way home either! Maybe that was the clogged fuel filter. Or maybe she LIKE what the Maestro did to her. They were getting to Know Each Other. Having proudly written that, the next day the Maestro headed North for a Freeway Test Drive. Twenty miles up 280, the 356 began to sputter again- JUST like she did last time! DAMN, thought the Maestro- I thought I FIXED that!

Looks like it wasn't the fuel filter' after all! Guess I'm not gonna get away with the Easy Solution this time. Little did he know. So the Maestro got off the Freeway and drove through town to ponder the situation. Once in town, the good old girl ran fine. Good acceleration, no hesitation and no "running out of gas". So he figured what the Hell and took the 101 Freeway back to his Shop. Twenty miles down 101, the same sputtering reared its ugly head. Sputter Sputter. Down to 45 MPH and the slow lane. But the Maestro was determined to make it his Shop to Safety- and NOT break down East of Palo Alto. Besides, GOOD 356's NEVER Break down in bad Places. GOOD 356's break down in your DRIVEWAY! Is the Maestro's 356 a Good or a Bad one. Willy Makit?

He did- barely - with the poor 356 barely running on 2.2 cylinders.,But now that she was Exhibiting the Problem, the problem could be Found! So the Maestro popped off the likage arm to the Right Hand Carb revved it up by itself. It revved up just find thank you. So he tried the Left Hand Zenith. It DIDN'T rev up - in fact it didn't do much of anything! So the Maestro popped off the Zenith air filter and eyeballed the inside of the carb. And what did he see? He saw: MELTED VENTURI! That's correct- Venturi- that's plural- meaning BOTH of the Zenith's Venturus had MELTED!!! From a Standing Wave fire INSIDE the carburetor! Immediately, the Maestro sacrificed a Virgin to the Porsche gods from the Emergency Virgin Supply- in thanks for them not burning his new 356 to the ground in the Fast Lane! The Maestro went to the Zee den of Zee Zeniths and picked out a good left hand "C" Zenith. While installing the Zenith he Maestro noticed that the rear 2 nuts- the ones you see had washers under them, the front two nuts- the ones you DON'T see- had NO washers under them. That Malex- and his Detail Work. WOW! Either he tried to fake the fact that 2 washers were missing, or he was too lazy to try to put them on the hard-to-get-to front nuts. Or both.

That done, the Maestro fired up the engine and resynched the carbs- and took his now-cured 356 out for a quick test drive and WHAT a difference! Good Power ad NO hesitation- a properly purring Porsche finally! Until the next day, when once again the Maestro headed for the Shop brimming with Overconfidence. Only to have 10 miles the road the Return of the hauntingly familiar: sputter, sputter. Again, he made it to the Shop- showing that a good 356 NEVER BREAKS down in inconvenient places. And THIS time he was DETERMINED to find the problem- using his patented Binary Search Debugging Technique. Binary Testing is easy. Merely Conduct a Test that Divides the problem in half. Then Another. Then Another. Ten tests and you can isolate 1000 problems. 20 tests will find that One in a Million. So the Maestro got out his One-gallon fire-up gas can- and a length of fuel hose and a screwdriver to undo the fuel pump clamp with. (KIDS- don't do this at home!) That way, when the Dreaded hesitation occurred again, all the Maestro had to do was feed the fuel pump from the 1 gallon can- and ifin the hesitation continued, it had to be something from the can to the carbs. Which meant EITHER the fuel line or the fuel pump. On the other hand, ifin the hesitation stopped- the problem lay in the 356's gas tank, fuel cock or line from the tank. Find out which half, conduct another test or two, and there you are- at the Real Cause of the problem.

So with gas can sorta safely stashed behind the Driver's seat, (ifin your gonna crash and burn, you might as well carry your own gas too. It'll be quicker that way.) The Maestro headed off down the road to induce a sputter. SHE REFUSED TO SPUTTER! For a week or so- until IT HAPPENED AGAIN!!! Sputter Sputter. This time he Maestro HOOKED up his 1-gallon Gas can- sticking it in the left hand corner of the Engine Compartment, and running a hose from the 1 gallon can to the Inlet of the Fuel Pump- BYPASSING the Car's Gas Tank, fuel cock and fuel line. Safely securing a rag around the fuel line from the 1-gallon tank, the Maestro motored off looking for a Freeway-o and a Cure for he Hesitation. 'Twas not to be- for as soon as he reached Freeway Speeds, the hesitation returned to haunt him!!! But NOW he knew something- for the Binary Search had Just ELIMINATED the Gas Tank, Fuel Cock on or Fuel lines! That meant, it HAD to be the Fuel Pump, the Fuel lines TO the Carbs or the Carbs!! Since the Fuel pump was new, that wasn't likely. He noticed that the fuel line was the WRONG one for a 356B- it was the one-piece type with no flexible center section in front of the fan shroud. Meaning Malex's had struck again- and grabbed a fuel line from an EARLIER engine! - One that just happened to be lying around.

So the Maestro undid the fuel line. and blocking off the outlet to the right hand carb with his thumb and forefinger, leaving the outlet for the Left Hand carb open he blew into the fuel line at the filter. And no gas came out of the left hand fuel line outlet. He blew harder. Nothing. Where's Linda Loveless when you need her he thought. So he loosened his grip on the Right Hand outlet - and got DRENCHED in Gasoline!!! Urethra! He Cried stepping from his gasoline bath, I've found it!!! The Maestro ran into his shop for his Tubing Cutter- and CUT the fuel line in half- right at first bend by the Left Hand outlet. By the grace of the Porsche gods- he cut right through the middle of a BUG rolled up inside a LEAF that metamorphasized into a very effective Pressure/flow reducer- almost completely clogging the fuel line! More proof that Malex's got this fuel line from the South Forty maybe out of Texas where an engine overhaul done in the Barn results in chiggers clogging bolt holes, oil passageways- and FUEL LINES!!! Just like this Case. The Maestro pulled a plated fuel line from the shelf- fitted it up to the 356 and Drive off Down the Road- to see what a Real 356 Would Do.

She did Very Well Indeed- cruising just like a good 356 should- at 75+ and with NO Hesitation anymore. The Maestro returned to his Shop, sacrificed another Virgin to the Porsche gods, and drank a Toast to the Faith, the Law of Large Numbers and the Binary Search. Once again, another Impossibly Rare Porsche Problem succumbed to the Maestro and the Powers of the: 356 FAITH!!!

As he continued to drive the 356, she began to grow on him. God, she feels nice! thought the Maestro as he used ever excuse he could to drive his new purchase. And sure enough- they fell in Love. But what about the man from Chicago- the Buyer. A Deal is a Deal. And the Maestro believes in that. But as the Day in May when his 356 would go away came closer and closer, the Maestro regretted that Deal. But as he says, a Deal is a Deal. Until one day in May- a week from when she would leave, the Buyer called from Chicago. "Uh, gee said he- I can't sell my 944 Turbo now that Porsche's lowered the price, and the Bank doesn't want to make me another loan for the 356,..." BOY did the Maestro perk up when he heard that, but the center of Higher Reasoning stepped in just in time and induced Poker Mode. "Gee said the Maestro. After all the work I've done on her solving her fuel problems, Debugging the bugs in the fuelline, the Mayonnaise in the Case, the Thumping in the Brakes. After all that you're wanting to back out of the deal. I thought you were a Lawyer. "No, said the VOP sheepishly- I'm a Psychiatrist. Groan thought the Maestro- A Psychiatrist- they can never make up their mind! Just like Mrs. Maestro said!

So, the Maestro thought he'd be Big Hearted, and offered the Buyer back half his Deposit. The Shrink said he'd think about it. Maestro certainly hoped that he and the Psychatrist worked things outout of the Deal- so the Maestro could keep the 356 he came to love! And THAT's how the Maestro sells a car - HE KEEPS IT!!! Because he: KEEPS THE 356 FAITH!!!

That was The Story that Monday - 6 Days before The Deal expired on the Next Saturday. And so it was With Confidence that the Maestro picked up the phone that Final Friday - the DAY before the Deal Expired - only to hear an unfamiliar voice on the other end- "Hi,... Uh, you don't know me, but I bought the Psychologist's Option to buy your car. And I'm coming out on his Ticket - TOMORROW!" The Maestro was in Shock. Clenched stomache and all. The Same Feeling one gets from a Death in the Family. Or a Gummt Audit. But But But, blubbered the Maestro, sounding like a motorboat "Who are YOU? What happened to the Psychologist. Who's on First?" Said the VOP - "I'm moving out to Fresno from Chicago". You poor guy thought the Maestro. The Only Thing Chicago and Fresno have in common is an "o" at the end. "And, since I was coming to California, I decided to buy out the Psychiatrist's Option." Gee though the Maestro- he had never though that the Deal was an "Option" before. But hey, if it walks like a Duck, talks like a duck... Heartbroken, the Maestro managed to the the important Details like what flight and when, and hung up the phone. And gave a Primal Scream that rolled across the Runways at San Jose International, momentarily blocking out the sound of Flight 1111 arriving. Jay came running- figuring that either The Computer had finally turned Homocidal, or that the Maestro had Lost It. Or Both. What Happened? asked Jay anxiously. "I just got stabbed in the Back by the Deal God. He gave me a Pristine Perfect Porsche which only I could fix, and I fixed it. She told me her whole Life's Story and I comforted her. On the Freeway, we were One Together.

(Teenagers, don't try this!) Life was So Beatiful when we were together. Even Mrs. Maestro was Jealous. And I SOLD her- like a Commodity. It's like selling a Daughter into Slavery. Hey, said Jay- cheer up. I've got a Friend who gets into a lot of Deals. Some he wins big. Others I think he loses on. But when I asked him about the Bad Deals, he says- 'There's no such thing as a Bad Deal. Some are just better than others!' Maybe it's True, thought the Maestro late that night as he perusing the Wall Street Journal that's delivered by Special Courier at 1:00AM of the Day of Publication. That way the Maestro has a Head Start on the World every day! While reading an article about Whining about House Prices, the Maestro noticed a Pearl of Wisdom that applied to him- "Once a Deal is Done", said the Journal. "Forget it!" Warmed with that Knowledge, the Maestro cleaned The Car, and picked up the Option Buyer from Chicago, pointed out the Problem Areas, made the Transaction and pointed the Buyer in the direction of Fresno. And said goodby to a Good Buy. One that Got Away.

As the Blue 356 drove out of the Maestro's Parking Lot and Life for the Last Time, Jay asked. "Gee Maestro, how're you gonna get home now? "No Problem, said the Maestro, It's not WHAT you know, it's WHO who know, as he picked up the phone and dialed a friend of a friend"Say Judy, you still want to sell your 1974.5 Datsun 260 Z, that one-woman- owner California Z Car?" "Yes, she said. I do." "Well, bring it down right now, and I'll give you Cash Money and a Ride back. She did. He did. And the Maestro, drove off down the Freeway, with his New Used 260Z Car. Ah, what the Hell, Trading a 356B Coupe for a Cherry Datsun 260 Z and a New Kitchen ain't a Bad Deal. Some are just better than others! These things happen ifin you: KEEP THE 356 FAITH!!!

Take for example, one of the few 356 AND 912 Owners in Mississippi. (First Emma Come-a, then I-ah Come-a, them I ass-ass, then I come-a again-a, then I ass-ass, then I pee-pee then I come-a Again-a. "OFFICER, aren't you gonna arrest him?" "What, for spelling Mississippi?")      In fact the Maestro had rebuilt BOTH the Owner's 356 SC Mississippi Cabriolet Engine and the '67 912. Ironically, the Man from Miss then sold the 356 to a dealer inCalifornia--a few miles North of the Maestro. So, the Maestro's Engine which went from California to Mississippi was Coming home to California to roost--like the Swallows. Like I said--it's a small World!

Eventually, The Man from Mississippi sold the SC with the Maestro's Engine for a considerable sum to the Widow of a famous Star in Malibu. Which is another Story. And when Such a Deal as that goes down, the Customer inevitably is as Happy as a Pig in... And the Maestro is, of course, always Happy when a Customer is Happy.