I really loved my grandmother.
Unfortunately, I don’t think I ever told her that. Like most young people I was busy growing up, thinking more of myself and not really understanding deeper family relationships. I don’t think we really know this until we have kids, or grandkids, of our own.
Of my four grandparents, my mother’s mother was my favorite because she understood my passion for Porsches. Yeah, she sort of spoiled me. But don’t all grandparents?
But it wasn’t just giving me whatever I wanted, she was too fugal for that. But she gave me these neat little Porsche surprises that I have cherished for many, many years.
She was a bit of a hobby collector. I get that from her. She collected dolls, shoes, Christmas ornaments (yes, the Christmas tree stayed up year-round) and many other things.
She could see my passion and helped fuel that with little Porsche items from time to time. She had a knack for stitching and sewing. She once made me a large Porsche pillow as a Christmas present when I was in my teens. The yellow 911 was a sight to behold. The shape was perfect and even had all the details – lights, windows, rear grill and door handles. The best part though was the “rolling” tires. They were little pillows too, round and stuffed into the larger 911 car pillow.
Stitched on to this Porsche pillow was an authentic Porsche car key. And no, this wasn’t a key to a real Porsche out in the driveway – I was only 14 years old ’mind you.
This key was from a dismantled Porsche in a southern California Porsche shop. My grandmother’s friend had a son that owned a Porsche dismantling and parts shop in Anaheim. His name was Dennis Aase. This Christmas pillow she gave me was my introduction to a much larger Porsche world.
I remember quite vividly, even all these many years later, when she asked if I’d like to go by Dennis’ Porsche shop. Even before I could drive, on my next long family trip to see her in southern California, she took me to Aase Bros. shop. I remember there was a 908 in the lobby and Dennis’ IMSA GTU 911 race car in the shop.
As a young pre-driver, I remember visiting Dennis’ pits at all the Laguna Seca and Sears Point races I could beg my father to take me to. This cemented my interest in Porsches, all due to my grandmother.
My grandmother also liked Polka dancing. Not that I understood that at the time. But she would talk about it, but as a young man I had no interest in that! But one dance I did – the Chicken Dance. She’d make my brothers and I do the Chicken Dance. She didn’t have to try hard though. That silly and fun little dance is easy and has a quick, simple little beat.
Over the years we’d do the Chicken Dance and laugh. Not very often, but enough that it is completely tied to my memory of her.
At our SNR Concours dinner last Saturday, while eating a German buffet at Bavaria World in Reno, we were treated to a nice gentlemen playing music on a keyboard. The thought popped in my head that he probably could play the Chicken Dance.
Asking Gail Patricia Bauderer, known to us all as Gramma Pat, if the Chicken Dance would be a good idea, she was quickly up requesting the tune. Losing my own grandmother was difficult for me. It was many years ago she passed. Meeting Gramma Pat has helped fill that void in my life. Gramma Pat is my new grandmother. I haven’t ever told her that.
If you attended the Concours dinner event, you know what happened next. Many of the SNR members attending were up on the dance floor in a big circle doing the Chicken Dance. We all had a good time.
That silly little dance brought back many good memories of my grandmother and her contribution of getting me to that exact moment in our Porsche club.
I would like to dedicate that Chicken Dance to my Grandma Margie as well as my new Gramma Pat. Both have had a positive influence in my life. Both helped fuel my Porsche passion. And both amazing grandmothers were not told I love them often enough.
I love you.
