When the 959 came out in the '80s, I was living off the grid in a cabin as a missionary in Papua New Guniea. My second daughter had just been born in a clinic with no doctor, and we were catching rain water to use in the house. We were 4+ hrs from a hard road, and getting to our house meant crossing roughly 20 bridges, all made with logs that would sometimes go missing when somebody was short on firewood.
My mom and dad graciously sent me several months worth of Car and Driver magazine (along with National Geographic, and a Canadian homesteader magazine) in care packages about 4x/yr.
I remember sitting at my table, reading about the car by the light of a Coleman lantern, thinking about how very, very different various places in the world can be. Porsche may as well have been offering a manned spacecraft for sale for all the relevance this car had to my existence, or the existence of anybody I was working with.
It was pretty surreal.