Here is the tale of the Jaguar that I tell to to my students to introduce an exercise in storytelling. I suggest that they look into their pockets, purses, and book bags for an item that they can use for a prop in a story to tell their teammates. I remind them that a story has a beginning, middle and end. I use examples from movies to illustrate stories as being problems that need to be solved. If the hero is successful in his quest, and we are given some laughs along the way - it is a comedy and if things do not turn out well - it is a tragedy. I mention high-speed car chases and "getting the girl" as familiar references. Then I reach into my pocket and pull out my key chain. On it there is a medallion with the face of a Jaguar - the symbol for a British automobile.Then I tell the story!

NOTE: This story seems to have more details by the end of the week when I am telling it for the fourth time.

THE JAGUAR STORY

When I was in my early twenties, I came into an inheritance and I decided that what I wanted most was a sports car! As a teenager, I was a sports car fanatic, reading and dreaming about frenched headlights and Aston Martin DBR2s. But there were only 12 of those imported into the country each year. As the years went by I continued to admire a variety of high performance vehicles. At the time of the story I lived in Montana but I had a friend in Tacoma, Washington and while I was on a visit to see her, I decided to buy my dream car. Years later I would marvel at my impulsiveness - I could have spent the money on a trip to Europe or a house…but I was after all, just starting out in life.

Driving my Volkswagen Beetle, I drove to a Porsche dealers' to have a look. The salesmen there I found quite rude and unhelpful however and I thought - wow - if this is what I get when I'm trying to buy a car, what will happen when I want service on the vehicle.
 

Well, just next door at British Motors, there on the showroom floor was the new 4.2 litre Jaguar! British racing green with sleek lines - it looked like it was moving when it was standing still. It was so beautiful, I just had to have it and I drove it off the showroom floor. I had just lost 50 pounds so I bought an all-new wardrobe and in the next three months I drove 15,000 miles in my new car.

I went from Seattle to New York, down the eastern seaboard, through the south and out to Los Angeles, up through San Francisco to Seattle where, in a restaurant parking lot, someone creamed the entire side of my car. They didn't leave a note. Well, by this time, I had learned the reality of owning a Jaguar - you really need a second car. 80 percent of the parts were backordered, you had to use special oil and every time you had anything done it had to be done by a specialist and was terribly expensive. At one point I had to drive 2 states with a makeshift fan-belt until I could find the proper one at a dealership.

So I took the car back to the original dealer where I bought the car and arranged to trade it in on an MGB. But just before I did, I wanted to take it for one last ride. There's a stretch of freeway between Seattle and Tacoma and I took it as fast as I could. In the jaguar, the tachometer red-lines way before 160 miles per hour - the backend isn't really built to take that speed. The engine started screaming when I reached 130 miles per hour and I left it at that. The next week I heard that the engine blew up on the Jag - but by then I was driving my MGB and I drove it for the next 12 years.

Students inevitably are caught up in my story. I was their age at the time. I was getting the chance of a lifetime - a fantasy like the lottery was coming true for me. What would they have bought given the opportunity? The males in my audience who are crazy about cars can easily relate to my passion for a certain type of vehicle. They come along with me for the ride. They relive the long drive around the United States and are horrified along with me to see the car smashed. They thrill at the forbidden daring of the high speed goodbye to the car. They enjoy the irony of the conclusion of my tale.