I once had a friend who used to say that F.I.B was a teenage boy trapped inside a woman's body (except I dig guys) in that my interests are of a boy from the early 1970's. Cars, comic books, record collecting, you get the idea. So, that being said my inner teenage boy was stoked to find these books lying out in the frigid cold this Sunday. In DIFFERENT locations! The "Customized: Art Inspired by Hot Rods, Low Riders and American Car Culture" is in MINT condition and AWESOME! The Dune Buggy Handbook has some great Rat Fink type dune buggy cars in it and is a fab reference manual should I ever need to get a spare part for my dune buggy, and the Consumer Report mag featuring cars from 1980 is pretty cool despite the fact the most of the cars sucked that year.
The teenage girl trapped in my woman's body who actually WAS a teenager in 1980 appreciated these New York magazines from around that time. (I found these at a secret spot that always provides on Sundays.) No talk of development, condos or losing landmarks. It was all about the arts back then. Can you imagine that New York was once one of the centers of cutting edge theater, music and art? I actually used to read
New York magazine in the late 1970's and all through the 1980's because my
grandmother had a subscription. I have to say that the magazine made me never want to leave New York. They had the listings for all the clubs and ads for places like Fiourucci's, where I bought my first tube of green mascara. Yeah, the city was dirtier then but you didn't have to be as well off to live here as you do now. I only left New York once. I moved to San Francisco and lived in Marin County (beautiful but boring) and Haight Ashbury (I dug it except for the teenage runaways and cracked out hippies). I drove back to New York in my 1977 metallic celery green Pontiac Ventura (Nova with a nose job) with the white interior and white racing stripe. Drove her across country and moved into this very apartment 15 years ago and never left. The car, LaRue was her name (named after Gidget's friend) was a fixture on the block, people still ask me "what happened to that car?" She's in hot rod heaven now baby!
I once had a friend who used to say that F.I.B was a teenage boy trapped inside a woman's body (except I dig guys) in that my interests are of a boy from the early 1970's. Cars, comic books, record collecting, you get the idea. So, that being said my inner teenage boy was stoked to find these books lying out in the frigid cold this Sunday. In DIFFERENT locations! The "Customized: Art Inspired by Hot Rods, Low Riders and American Car Culture" is in MINT condition and AWESOME! The Dune Buggy Handbook has some great Rat Fink type dune buggy cars in it and is a fab reference manual should I ever need to get a spare part for my dune buggy, and the Consumer Report mag featuring cars from 1980 is pretty cool despite the fact the most of the cars sucked that year. 
The teenage girl trapped in my woman's body who actually WAS a teenager in 1980 appreciated these New York magazines from around that time. (I found these at a secret spot that always provides on Sundays.) No talk of development, condos or losing landmarks. It was all about the arts back then. Can you imagine that New York was once one of the centers of cutting edge theater, music and art? I actually used to read New York magazine in the late 1970's and all through the 1980's because my grandmother had a subscription. I have to say that the magazine made me never want to leave New York. They had the listings for all the clubs and ads for places like Fiourucci's, where I bought my first tube of green mascara. Yeah, the city was dirtier then but you didn't have to be as well off to live here as you do now. I only left New York once. I moved to San Francisco and lived in Marin County (beautiful but boring) and Haight Ashbury (I dug it except for the teenage runaways and cracked out hippies). I drove back to New York in my 1977 metallic celery green Pontiac Ventura (Nova with a nose job) with the white interior and white racing stripe. Drove her across country and moved into this very apartment 15 years ago and never left. The car, LaRue was her name (named after Gidget's friend) was a fixture on the block, people still ask me "what happened to that car?" She's in hot rod heaven now baby!
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