Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek.
When your product has a strong identity, one of the things you worry about most is someone usurping your position.
Sometimes, though, you lose.
In such times, you try and find out what sparkly brand has suddenly attracted the attention of your now former customer.
Which brings me to a startling, astonishing, quite life-affirming revelation from Klaus Zellmer, CEO of Porsche North America.
As Autoblog's James Riswick reports, Zellmer quietly offered that some customers do end up trading-in their Caymans and Boxsters for other cars.
An Audi R8, I hear you cry. Or a Jaguar F-Type.
It seems as if the former Porsche owners' car of choice -- if you choose to call it a car -- is the, oh, Jeep Wrangler.
Yes, the one you see beach bums hanging out of and refusing to let you pass, as you're sliding down the freeway to do the weekly shopping.
Zellmer reportedly admitted that explaining this to his German bosses may have involved some descending jaws and, I imagine, even condescending comments about Americans.
For his part, Riswick theorizes that -- for many families -- a Boxster or Cayman is a third car.
Ergo, getting a Wrangler still allows someone to have copious weekend fun, and even take more than one person along for the ride.
There may be some truth in this.
I fear, though, there might be something a little more substantial and even uplifting in these choices.
How many times have you driven past a Porsche and thought to yourself: "My, I bet the person driving that is really, really interesting."?
And how many times have you thought to yourself: "Pretentious halwit of the irretrievable kind and probably quite old."?
Perhaps, then, a few of these buyers would prefer to seem a little more down with the (hiking, surfing, paddle-boarding) people and less up with the "Oh, won't you look at my new Porsche?" people.
Beyond the manifest image issues, there's another thing sports car owners are often slow to admit.
Sports cars are simply a pain to own.
They can be frightfully oversensitive and entirely impractical. They can be woefully uncomfortable and, when it comes to basic equipment, painfully inadequate.
Many years ago, I confess I took a test-drive in a Porsche. The cup holder was, I'm quite sure, a joke created by someone who got fired from IKEA.
When I laughed, the dealer turned to me, serious-faced and said:
This is a driver's car. Porsche only cares about the driving experience.
Who among us has time for such high maintenance objects these days?
We want to be out there enjoying ourselves and proving just how much we're at one with nature.
Still, a Jeep Wrangler.
Oh, wait. It's not just about the money, is it?