it’s a car, not some fragile combination of bone china and wet toilet paper. Drive it like this guy:
Dirt is not the enemy. Preening dandies and investors with hermetic hyperbaric car storage chambers are.
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Thirty years: no sightings. 2014: 3, all at the Scottsdale
Hookers and Squirrels Motorsports Gathering. Red white and blue. Yay America (f*** yeah!). Bank of America was originally Bank of Italy. The Ferrari 400i comes to America and gets turned into a Mustang. I see the wacky lights and think: if only the resurrected Capri were a good car. Or at least an interesting one.
Anyhoo, I’m not usually a fan of conversions. They’re usually raspy edged and ill-fitting. The tops usually garble the lines of the donor coupes. But then you lower that rag out of sight and fire up your 8 (or in this case 12) best friends and none of that crap matters. Only speed and wind and sound and groupies.
2015 Ferrari 458 Speciale, just hanging out at the Wynn dealer.
Say hello to the 1984 Ferrari 512BBi. it’s one of our favorite cars since we knew that life was more than Buicks and Matchbox cars. We met the owner. Nice guy. Reticent, which seems to be the perfect foil for loud red “EVERYONE LOOK AT ME!!!!” Italians. This one just turned 8000 miles.
Not sure the owner was thrilled with the POV shot, but the window was open and all we touched was rarefied air. The only thing we missed was a lights up shot. (And the bucket list sit in/drive a boxer/Ferrari/V12 things.)
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