Why Cars?


It’s a visceral thing.

That heart-to-your-backbone thing that peels your eyebrows back when your foot commands several hundred horses to yank you to lightspeed before you can blink.

When your girly-weak arm surges with lightning power as you move the shifter in a perfect dance with your otherwise clumsy left foot, when the rubber grips the asphalt to launch you, flying low over the blurring surface of the earth.

And that should be enough of an explanation of why I write about cars, working on cars and people who understand both.


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