Fri Jun 13 2014 22:14:21 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Ayrton Senna, considered to be one of Formula One’s most legendary drivers, was apparently also very much a fan of Honda’s road cars; more specifically the NSX. In total Senna owned three of the mid-engined exotics. Now one of these gems has been listed on eBay for a mere US$180,000.
Ayrton Senna's NSX can be yours for only US$180,000Senna's red NSX currently resides in EnglandSenna owned three Honda NSX vehicles, with the red car being made available to him during ...This car was used by Ayrton Senna when he was the reigning World champion in 1991 and 1992View all
The latest iteration of the NSX retains very little in the way of its predecessor’s technology and engineering elements. However, for fans of F1, anything with Senna’s name on it carries with it significant historic importance. Now they have the chance to own one of the driver’s personal rides.
Showing only 30,000 miles on the odometer, the 1991 red NSX up for sale was made available to Triple World F1 Champion Ayrton Senna by Honda during his time in Portugal. As the seller notes, "I would like to say 'never been thrashed or raced', but I would be lying as you can see Senna spinning the wheels in the video Racing Is In My Blood. The car was requested specifically by Senna as a loaner when he was the reigning World champion in 1991 and 1992 when he stayed at his Home in the Portuguese region of the Algarve."
The listing goes on to say that prior to being owned by MSCars of Portugal for the last 15 years, the car belonged to a wealthy banker.
Senna’s red NSX can be viewed at the current owner’s property in East Sussex, England or online through eBay. Full details on the history of the vehicle and its UK seller can be found here.
Sat Dec 21 2013 15:53:08 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Less public than a park bench but more than a bedroom, our cars are in-between zones, roaming bubbles of personal space that leave us partly exposed. It's easy to be lulled into letting your guard slip a little—as with the woman Tony Ray-Jones found napping in a white convertible in Daytona, Fla., (above) in May 1965. The red of the blanket she rests her head against echoes the candy-apple coloring of so many of the hot rods gathered at the raceway. One can almost hear the engines revving in the background. Ray-Jones (1941-72) specialized in isolating such moments of intimacy in public scenes. He is best known for wry studies of street life in his native England, but 'American Colour 1962-1965' (MACK, 80 pages, $30) gathers never-before-published work done while he lived in America, first as a student and then as an art director for magazines (including Car & Driver). Coming from what he called a 'black and white country,' Ray-Jones reveled in the gorgeous garishness of American life, photographing people in parks, at parades, on motorcycles, in buses and on sidewalks. The layered, zoomed-in compositions he produced can feel uncomfortably close or even voyeuristic. A scene of four boys fishing under a bridge in Central Park, with a blurry scrim of branches in the foreground, adds a sliver of unease to an almost pastoral scene. In another image, a girl decked out with heavy rouge and a shiny hair bow stares from a car's back window. Her over-the-top adornments match the bright chrome and ornate styling of the midcentury sedan; her expression is jarringly morose. Ray-Jones returned home not long after his trip to Daytona in 1965. Among the items on his re-entry to-do list? 'Get driver's licence.'
Mon Aug 26 2013 20:47:44 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
A painting by Carlo Demand (More about his bio
"Rudi Caracciola (Mercedes-Benz), Bernd Rosemeyer (Auto union), Tazio Nuvolari (Alfa Romeo), German GP 1937. Rudi won, Bernd finished third after a broken hub cap forced him to do an early pit stop and Tazio finished 4th". Source:
My 1932 Chevrolet Pumper has been on loan back to Fillmore Fire Department, and yesterday I brought it home to the Candee Farm via the same route I took 49+ years ago, when I acquired it after seeing it out in the weather for years across the road from the FD.... then at 1,247 miles, now at about 7k miles.... @Lawrence University memories and many more!
Mon Feb 11 2013 18:30:57 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Lexus is taking its wheels from the highway to the runway with a new Vogue magazine ad campaign revealed at The Lexus Fashion Workshop. The automaker put four fashion designers to the challenge by having them create wearable pieces using over 2,000 parts from a dismantled Lexus CT hybrid.
The Lexus CT hybrid is made up of nearly 90 percent recyclable materials. Using everything from seat covers to crank bearings, the designers are making the message of the importance of recycling loud and clear. According to a Lexus press release, the designs include:
-“Environmental Crown of Virtue”- piece designed by Moss Lipow using a transmission starter and exhaust manifold gasket.
-“The Valve Collection”- designed by jewelry creator Eddie Borgo using valve lifters, crank bearings and hose clamps.
-“Nomadic Sanctuary”- trench coat, shorts and clutch designed by John Patrick using floor mats made from plant-based plastic, sustainable sound-dampening material, wire harness, leather seat covers and cargo covers.
-“The Luna Shoe”- designed by Alejandro Ingelmo using armrest leather trim and clear plastic tubing.
Brian Smith, vice president of marketing for Lexus, said,” Merging the worlds of luxury automobiles, art and fashion is another example of how Lexus is ‘Engineering Amazing’ or maybe more appropriately, ‘Engineering Unexpected.’” Smith continued, “We are able to challenge four designers to turn one of the most progressive hybrid vehicles into innovative fashion pieces, inspiring the designers, and the world, to see things differently.”
The pieces will be featured in a six-page advertisement in Vogue’s January 2012 issue. The pieces will be sold at a private auction during Art Basel Miami Beach with proceeds benefitting the Council of Fashion Designers of America/Vogue Fashion Fund (CFDA), a non-profit trade association representing more than 400 of America’s designers.
GOAutoPlus.com is the premier auto resource for new and used Lexus cars in Wisconsin. Stay updated about The Lexus Fashion Workshop with GOAutoPlus.com.
Sat Jan 19 2013 01:31:47 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
“The Anti-Flirt Club was an American club active in Washington, D.C., during the early 1920s. The purpose of the club was to protect young women and girls who received unwelcome attention from men in automobiles and on street corners. The Anti-Flirt Club launched an “Anti-Flirt” week, which began on March 4, 1923.”
“The club had a series of rules, which were intended as sound and serious advice. These were:
Don’t flirt: those who flirt in haste oft repent in leisure.
Don’t accept rides from flirting motorists—they don’t invite you in to save you a walk.
Don’t use your eyes for ogling—they were made for worthier purposes.
Don’t go out with men you don’t know—they may be married, and you may be in for a hair-pulling match.
Don’t wink—a flutter of one eye may cause a tear in the other.
Don’t smile at flirtatious strangers—save them for people you know.
Don’t annex all the men you can get—by flirting with many, you may lose out on the one.
Don’t fall for the slick, dandified cake eater—the unpolished gold of a real man is worth more than the gloss of a lounge lizard.
Don’t let elderly men with an eye to a flirtation pat you on the shoulder and take a fatherly interest in you. Those are usually the kind who want to forget they are fathers.
Don’t ignore the man you are sure of while you flirt with another. When you return to the first one you may find him gone.” - Wikipedia
Wed Dec 12 2012 02:51:53 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Huichol-style beaded VW beetle The photos don't make justice to this car, truly a work of art. The entire car is covered with elaborate designs made with tiny seed beads in the style of Huichol art. It's a sight to behold! The entire work took around 7 months.
Wed Dec 12 2012 02:53:35 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Did Pablo Picasso Vomit On This Porsche 911? Who knows, but Champion Motorsport of Pompano Beach, Florida does an annual art-car collabo for the mega artsy confab, Art Basel Miami Beach. This year the shop teamed with "neo-pop" artist Romero Britto on a new Porsche 911 Cabriolet (991). Whimsy. So much whimsy.
Britto is a Miami-based painter, serigrapher (er, stencil-ist), and sculptor who made his bones (ie, ca-ching) doing corporate commissions, starting in 2003 with a limited-edition redesign of Absolut's vodka packaging, he went on to deliver corporate works for Movado, Disney, Enrico Coveri, Pepsi, the United Nations, and Royal Caribbean Cruises, among a number of causes and charities.
But it's his cars that have held our eyeballs at gunpoint, with customization projects for automakers like Volvo, Bentley, Audi, BMW/Mini and this helmet for Helio Castroneves.
Hey, why starve for your art when you can pocket sweet commissions. It worked for Michelangelo, whose ghost is already on its way to Miami with a portable Chinese water torture kit.
Thu Dec 13 2012 02:36:57 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Lincoln Motor Company Dec. 2013 advertisement, perfectly choreographed with just the right touch of retro. From the company: "Introducing the Lincoln Motor Company, celebrating ninety years of doing what we've always done, which is doing what others aren't. Honoring the vision of our past, the all-new 2013 MKZ is our latest testament to innovation and excellence in design. The new road starts here."
Tue Dec 11 2012 00:33:52 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Oh, where to begin with this rare historical picture? It truly represents so much in as far as ushering in the new and the old slipping quietly into retirement. Here we see, in the middle of the summer of 1951, Mr. Concept Car himself -- Harley Earl -- along with his wife, Sue, in the brand new Le Sabre at the back of their 217 Touraine Rd. driveway (at their Grosse Pointe Farms, MI. home) with the Y-Job seen parked and now resting in the background.
Sun Dec 02 2012 04:11:24 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
The door opened and a woman peered at me from behind the screen door of the double-wide mobile home. She was leathery and weathered. She snarled. The two braids of her soot-colored hair resembled dangling clumps of barbed wire.
“What do you want?’
Delores with Hell's Angels -
“We’re here about the ad for the bus.”
Her lips flexed into a smirk.
“Oh. You. Come on back.”
It was my junior year of high school and four friends and I were in the market for a school bus. A few of us had been passing around a copy of Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test—a novel about a bus full of stick-it-to-the-man hippies who helped kick-start the counter-culture movement of the ‘60s—and we were inspired. Too apathetic for a movement, we decided to buy a bus.
We followed her to the back of her house and beheld the faded, yellow vessel. To us, the pile of rotting, hole-ridden tin was nothing less than beautiful. She took us for a drive.
“Second gear is a little tricky,” she shouted over the grumbling transmission. I stood next to her and watched the trees glide by in the reflection of her aviators. Who is this crazy hag? I thought to myself.
I felt a burst underneath me. The bus came to a jerky halt. “Shit. I hope you boys don’t mind walking,” she said without a flinch.
I learned a lot about this woman during the two-mile hike back to her house. Her name was Delores White Dog. She was a 57-year-old Navajo who made Native American crafts and jewelry. She sold her creations out of a “shack” on the outskirts of a flea market in Canton, Texas. She loved the Earth and expressed this love through her art. She was in love with a younger woman named Susan. Susan was a travel agent who had an ancient spirit.
Delores was the antithesis of everything my suburban Dallas life had taught me to believe. I was enamored.
We got back to her house and said our goodbyes. She told us to swing by her shack sometime.
A few weeks later, we finally procured ourselves a different bus (We later found out that Delores’ bus was towed back and converted into a Jerry Garcia memorial). We took out all the seats and added couches and a bed. We found some local artists to bring the bus to life with a colorful urban-psychedelic graffiti paint job. We also installed a PA system that played ice cream truck music at unbearable decibels (Unfortunately we had to cease use of this mechanism after an onslaught of disheartened children).
The only items we lacked were railing for a rooftop deck and a giant cow skull for the grill. We knew no better place to find these than a flea market in Canton, Texas.
We quickly located our first two necessities, but it took us a while to find the true incentive behind our venture. The shack was actually a miniature two-story cabin located on a wooded hill amongst other cabins and booths. The entire area looked like it belonged in a small mining town—or at least a mining town that sold fried Twinkies. I was admiring the dream catchers and listening to a staged gunfight outside when a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Those are all real bones, you know. No one uses real bones anymore.”
I turned around to look at her. The hunched-over Navajo was wearing a flannel shirt and a red bandana headband. A hint of delight grazed her face.
“You boys should come up. Have a glass of wine.”
My fellow bus owners and I sat down on a canvas cot in the 10-square-foot room, our heads pressed against the vaulted ceiling. We all drank from her jug of cheap Rossi wine and asked her a barrage of questions—like children pestering their grandfather about his war days. She told us how she once smoked a joint backstage with Jim Morrison of the Doors and how she took acid with Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead. She told us how she converted her bus into a Jerry Garcia memorial. She told us about her first tattoo that said “Born to Raise Hell” and how her mom made a doctor slice off the tattooed skin and sew it back together. She told us that she had ridden with the Hells Angels.
At first, they all just seemed like stories of a delusional hippy. But then she showed us a photograph inside a 1967 issue of Look magazine. The picture showed a vicious group of Hells Angels standing around two Harley-Davidsons.
Leaning against the front tires of one of the bikes was a young lady staring at the camera with a look that said, “I don’t take shit from anybody.”
“That’s me,” she said. “Man, I didn’t take shit from anybody.”
I came back to the shack a few more times during my senior year. Each time I would bring different friends. Each time Delores would invite us up, pour a glass of wine, smoke her home-grown grass and tell me about her life and what she had learned. She always seemed to enjoy my curiosity. She told me she couldn’t imagine why anyone would give a damn.
But I did. I cherished every anecdote, every lesson. Each story was a shot to the detached bourgeois mindset that had enveloped me throughout my childhood. For the first time, I was seeing the world from outside of my jaded uptown Dallas subtopia. I wanted to see more and learn more, to find new perspectives and insight. I wanted to find stories and tell them.
The last time I saw her was in April 2004. I told her I was going to the University of Kansas to study journalism. She said she’d heard good things. She had a cousin in Kansas who she’d been meaning to visit.
I went back to the cabin two years later. I wanted to talk to her about writing her story. I found a man selling wind chimes and wood carvings. I asked if he knew where the previous tenant had gone.