Category: The Drive

Rainer Keller”s stunning art series “Machine Overdrive”¯ is a acid-colored fantasia of Malaise-era automotive decay. (And you can buy one, affordably.)

“We call it a platform,”¯ Fresh says of the carbon fiber assemblage, which resembles two overturned canoes linked by a raft and tethered to a giant nylon feather, “The names””yacht, ship””haven”t quite caught up with the technology.”¯

“America is too big, its spirit too irrepressible, to be constrained by portraits, landscapes, or even abstraction. So for many American artists, the automobile is more than inspiration. It is a talisman; not just a part of the art, but the subject and the medium.”

90s underwear heartthrob Antonio Sabato Jr. has joined the Las Vegas cast of the Chippendales. So I was contractually obligated to interview him about his car collection, his most embarrassing car moment, and his signature stripper move.

A car is not a stadium. It is a private concert. My exclusive drive of Aston-Martin”s forthcoming DB11 reveals that its all-new V-12 engine sounds just right: like Titans wrestling in teflon tarns.

Family conveyances may change. Family is immutable.

As slowly and gently as they”re baked, soufflĆ©s sometimes collapse As ambitiously and breathlessly as they”re shot into orbit, space dogs sometimes die. Should we stop rooting for either because of this?

“I still like knobs and buttons, People I know, clients, the music in their apartment was turned on around ten years ago with one of those systems. And they don”t know how to turn it off.

Spotting one in the wild is like walking into the beach club cabana and seeing your grandmother topless, or watching coyotes strip a tortoise of its shell.

Or you could always wear a lead hat.