What Does a Car Mean to ●●? On BS Nippon TV, comedian duo Ogi Yahagi host a show called “Ogi Yahagi’s Beloved Cars: NO CAR, NO LIFE!.” The program explores each guest’s life and the cars they’ve owned along the way. At the end, Yahagi asks the guest, “What does a car mean to you?” After they share what their car means to them, the show wraps up. Past guests have given answers such as:...
A Repair Bill of ¥600,000 for One Door… I scraped the side of my Panamera. When I asked the repair shop for an estimate, they told me it would cost ¥600,000 per door. “That’s impossible! There’s no way it should cost that much—you’re ripping me off!” I was desperately trying to negotiate when my husband walked over and calmly asked: What happened? Did you scrape it? So I explained, “I scraped the side while going...
A Company Culture All Its Own At the company I joined straight out of college, the prevailing attitude was: “Cars are for bosses who treat them as toys. Spending money on a car is out of the question!” (Some company culture, huh?) The founder and president at the time had started out as a live-in apprentice, overcome all kinds of hardships, and built a staffing company from the ground up. So the workplace had a...
When Power Feels Mismatched The family car I used to drive was a regular-sized hatchback, but it had quite a bit of power. It climbed hills without a problem and accelerated well enough, yet something about it felt a little out of sync. I’m no expert on how cars are engineered, but even I felt that all that power came at the expense of high-speed stability. (It was, in fact, considered to have good high-speed...
Something I’ve Been Struggling With “Ever since I had my second child, I just can’t get back to my old weight or shape…” I tried doing sit-ups, bought a workout DVD by the popular trainer AYA, and even got on an exercise bike. I gave all sorts of things a go, but nothing ever stuck. I kept wondering, “I’m not eating all that much, and breastfeeding is supposed to help you lose weight—so why am...
A Relentless Mindset A mentor I deeply respect once told me, “The real test begins when you think you’ve reached your limit.” When I was 27, something happened that made me think, “I can’t go on.” I felt I’d run out of options. Looking back now, I realize I’d charged headfirst into a dead end and boxed myself in. Nearly eight years have passed since then. During that time, there have been plenty of moments...
I Walked Into a Couple’s Argument at a Coffee Shop The other day, I stopped by a neighborhood coffee shop to pick up some beans. There’s no parking lot nearby, so the only option is to parallel-park out back. When I got there, a Macan was already parked nearby. “Oh, there’s a Macan,” I thought casually as I walked into the shop—only to hear a woman’s shrill, furious voice ring through the room. How could...
A Three-Year-Old with a Sharp Eye Whenever my three-year-old daughter rides shotgun in our Panamera, she has plenty to say about my driving. She loves English, so at every traffic light she pipes up: “Green means go, and orange and red mean stop!” (I wonder why she speaks standard Japanese when she was born and raised in Kansai.) If I ever go through a yellow light, she’ll scold me: “Orange means stop! Σヽ(｀д´；)ﾉ” …Sorry! She...
Rear-Seat Monitors: Should We Add Them? When we were considering buying a Panamera, my husband casually asked: “Should we put monitors in the back so the kids can watch TV from the rear seats?” I answered without a moment’s hesitation: No way!! We shouldn’t spoil them like that. It’s not as if every rear seat comes with a monitor—this isn’t a seat on a super-comfortable Singapore Airlines flight. It’s better for them to face a...
Thank You So Much It finally happened: this blog has passed the 100-reader mark. I started it 57 days ago, after my husband said, “If you love the Panamera that much, why not start a blog or something?” On a whim, I signed up for a Hatena account and began writing about my rather passionate love for the Panamera. At first, the daily visitor count was only “2” or “5,” so I kept writing at...
