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The Porsche, the Wife and the Jedi Mind Trick

I bought a Porsche.

Okay, not that Porsche.

Not the midlife crisis one I’ve had my eye on for years.

Not the one that screams look at me or I finally did it.

I bought the one my wife wanted.

Kate doesn’t ask for much. But when she does, it’s usually something high-quality, well-considered, and expensive. The boys are coming home for Thanksgiving and again for the holidays after our family trip. Since Auden took Kate’s car to Colorado—the only four-wheel drive we had—we’ve been down a vehicle.

In the meantime, Kate’s been driving Harper’s car, since he’s in college in L.A. and doesn’t need one right now. Plus, we have the “Scheinman Scholarship Rules”: we need to see good grades, a job, and a workout routine before he gets another set of keys. His lease is up in January anyway, so something had to give.

So I started thinking. If I’m getting a new car for Kate, now’s the time. And honestly, as empty nesters, we have way too much time to think. That’s when you start making semi-dangerous decisions like this.

She’s wanted a Porsche Macan for a while.

So I did what I do. I went deep.

I told her, “If you think you want this car, just test drive one.” Then I dove in: pricing, listings, Carfax reports, every online forum, and yes, ChatGPT. Because at a dealership, you never win. You just hope not to lose too badly.

I knew we wanted pre-owned.

I knew we wanted low miles, around 25,000.

I knew we wanted the newer body style, 2022 or later.

And I wanted to pay cash. No interest, no nonsense.

Most importantly, I had my number. The price I’d buy at, and the price I’d walk at. Because if you’re not prepared to walk out, don’t bother walking in.

Enter “Chidi,” our Porsche Master Brand Ambassador—a big, friendly guy who could sell sand in the desert. He smiled, he charmed, he told us why we had to join the Porsche family.

We test drove. He drove first, flooring it a little so we could “feel the power.” I asked if it had paddle shifters. Kate said, “I’ll never use those.” I asked about the interior design. She said, “Yes, I want the updated one.”

At that point, I realized who was actually closing this deal.

Kate drove it three blocks and said, “I like this car.”

Back inside, Chidi slid the number across the table. I didn’t like it. I wrote my number down and slid it back. The old negotiation dance began. He went to “talk to his manager.” Came back closer. Went again. Came back again. Still not there.

Finally, I told him, “That’s the third time. We’re still not there. Thank you. We’re going to look around.”

You have to be willing to walk.

So we did.

On the way to my car, I got the look from Kate. The one that says, you just negotiated us out of a good deal. A few seconds later, she said it out loud.

I told her, “Be patient. Trust the process.” in my best Yoda voice, pretending I had Jedi powers over the Porsche empire.

Then her phone rang.

“Don’t drive away,” said the voice on the other end. It was Chidi.

“Come back inside. We’ll do the deal.”

He knew who to call. Had he called me, it could’ve gone either way. But once he called Kate, it was over.

So we went back.

He slid my number across the table. Extended his hand.

I shook it.

And that felt about as close to winning in a car dealership as I’ll ever get.

Kate went from frustrated to smiling.

And for me, it was one of those quiet wins that stays with you.

Because the truth is, I get more joy buying something for my wife than I ever would buying something for myself. Being able to give to the people I love—that’s what makes me feel alive. That’s what makes me feel like a man.

It’s not about the car. It’s about what it represents.

I don’t need more things. I need more meaning through them.

That’s how good men are wired. Not to collect, but to contribute. Not to impress, but to invest. Not to get more, but to give more.

The Porsche wasn’t about horsepower. It was about heart. About family. About love.

And that, to me, is what winning really looks like.

In Health,

Greg

P.S. Whether it’s a car, a vacation, or just a simple act of generosity, do something for the people who make your life worth driving. That’s where the real joy lives.

EXCLUSIVE: SPECIAL INVITE-ONLY OFFER FOR 2026

Many of you have asked to be more involved in the Midlife Male ecosystem. To do more cool sh*t with cool people. To have options and choices you can plan in advance and the chance to jump on last-minute experiences. To get access to sold-out events. To take part in things you didn’t even know were happening. To have accountability and a network that makes you better.

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Why not group calls? Because you don’t like them and I don’t like them. The thing that works has always been a monthly 1:1 check-in with me, where you get  real coaching, accountability, collaboration, and doing. I prefer that myself.

What I’ve learned is that real connection and relationships happen when we’re doing cool sh*t together in person. That’s when guys trade numbers, become real friends, and keep it going naturally. My role is to curate, connect, and create the space for that to happen.

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This isn’t a mastermind or some self-help garbage you don’t really want or need.

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Cool sh*t. Cool people. Maximizing Midlife. 

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In health,

PS: I’m taking new 1:1 coaching clients to finish ‘25 strong and start ‘26 stronger. It’s not about resolutions. It’s about practicing resolve. Book your call with me to see if we’re a good fit here.

Midlife Male
52. Husband. Father. Entrepreneur. Coach. Student of the game.
Still walking the walk.