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First and foremost. Silverstreak, I was not picking on you. You asked a completely legitimate question about engine failures. My rant has everything to do with the same players jumping on their soapboxes and scaring the **************** out of each other to the point that they they stop enjoying their perfectly good Boxsters.
I look at it this way. I'm a drag racer. When you drag race, you break ****************. Should I live in a state of perpetual apprehension because I might break something? Should I quit enjoying the sport of drag racing forever because I might twist an axle or bend a clutch fork? My answer is no. I recognize the risk and then enjoy the crap out of myself at the track. If I break the car, sometimes it gets very expensive, but that's the price of playing the game.
I live on the Chesapeake Bay. In 2003, Hurricane Isabel came through and ate my house and nearly everything else I owned. If you live on the water, this can happen. Should I pack up and move to Idaho? For me, the answer is no. I can think of nothing I love more than watching the sun come up over the water, or the sailboat races on Wednesday evenings. If a storm comes through and wipes out the house again, it'll be a huge pain in the ass, but that's the price of living here and I wouldn't trade it for a safer locale.
You shouldn't drive around in your Boxster in a perpetual state of fear just waiting for that oil spot to appear on the garage floor. You should drop the top as much as possible, throw on your coolest shades, crank your tunes and drive. The Boxster has the ability to melt away the stress of the day, or to give you the reason you need to drive to work in the first place. If you only use it as a weekend car, it reminds you of why you work so friggin' hard. If it breaks, fix it. There's a good chance that it won't. Some guys obsess over that fact that the RMS, engine, or whatever may fail and that Porsche is doing nothing to correct it. So might our hearts, lungs, and kidneys. Should we stop living now in case one of those organs screws up? Should we cower under the covers in our darkened bedrooms, furious at the medical community and waiting to die? You can if you want to. Me? I'm going to live. If my heart (or my Boxster) explodes I will be able to say that I enjoyed every minute of the time I had.
Plan like you'll live forever. Live like you'll die tomorrow.
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