That’s a rhetorical question.
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img via eBay ::: 1970 Maserati Indy Coupé
IF any car this side of a Jaguar E-Type could instantly present its driver as suave, sophisticated, moneyed and virile, any Maserati from the 1970s would be that car. That even extends to a mildly functional coupé / nearly-shooting-brake design that Maserati called “Indy” and produced in limited numbers from 1969-1975. Maserati sold Tipo 116 as a 2+2 celebration for Maserati’s two triumphs at the Indy 500.
The Indy marks a slightly odd design by virtue of the large greenhouse aft of the b-pillar that was necessary to fit two extra people and their luggage. From certain angles, it works. Still, Maserati compensated by appointing a leather cabin so rich it looked edible, putting the Ghibli’s V8 under a long hood that owed as much to the Ghibli’s sexy looks, as well, and endowing the Indy with an overall swagger that was the Trident’s primary stock in trade.
Considering the Indy’s Italian competition (notably, the Lamborghini Espada), we can say it comfortably won the race.
FORTYexotics of considerable pedigree with accompanying entourage of collectors and enthusiasts. Six thousands of United States dollars raised for the Boys & Girls Club of Newport. One rally from the green lawns of Oceancliff in Newport, through the rolling hills of Portsmouth, cross Mt Hope Bay to the western edge of Cape Cod’s arm, concluding at Little Compton. This Sunday last marked another grand parade of Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, and Porsches, Nissan GT-Rs, Acura NSXs, Lotus Esprits, and – yes – even a Plymouth Prowler; hosted by Supercarroadtrips. You may recall that Supercarroadtrips is the very same rally group that tantalized gamers at North America’s largest casino in 2009 and 2010. Considering the splendor of the surroundings and the glorious afternoon, their latest Rhode Island rally managed to top previous efforts.
It was a day to be on the water…
If by land, however, a Lamborghini would do very nicely. There numbered nine – which might account for five percent of New England’s total population of raging bulls.
Porsche function following Ferrari curves following Lambo edge.
Under azure skies…
In ebullient mood, Manolis Christo, Supercarroadtrips founder and maître de cérémonie instructs participants to stop their engines. Then start them.
Of the Ferraris in attendance, four were 458 Italias. In the flesh, as in pictures, the Italia proves to be the sexiest Ferrari since the F355.
A McLaren Greenwich rep showcased the MP4-12C. Not possessing quite the same swagger as the old F1, McLaren’s silver winged exotic still proved popular.
Outliers: apart from the dazzling array of Ferraris and Lamborghinis, a Porsche 928S and Bentley Azure. Both won many compliments from attendees…
…as did the Mercedes AMG SLS and one brilliant red W198 II 300SL.
In so much that the postwar roadster stands as one of the world’s original supercars, its presence was perfect.
by Gunnar Heinrich ::: img via YouTube ::: The Swimming Pool | La Piscine (1969)
LIFE ought to be good for Jean-Claude. No. F$*k good. Life oughta be awesome. But what was that line about the restless nature of men’s souls and our drive to reach ever further? To never be satisfied? Well, La Piscine – or The Swimming Pool – is a ’60s flick directed by Jacques Deray that essentially focuses on four very aroused and bronzed French vacationers lounging in and around a swimming pool on the grounds of some villa in the South of France. They, who despite having much that should sate their desires, are still left lusting after things that aren’t theirs. And shouldn’t be.
At the intersection of greed, lust, and envy enters a Maserati Ghibli. Neptune’s chariot rumbles with 335 horsepower and has an onscreen swagger that compliments Marianne’s (Romy Schneider) lithe blondness. Naturally, she finds a moment to caress the Italian stud’s long hood admiringly. But, you see, the Maserati rather than being a pleasure catalyst is rendered more a pitchfork that prods into old wounds so as to create new vendettas.
Our protagonist, Jean Claude (Alain Delon) holds the Maserati’s owner Harry (Maurice Ronet) in bitter contempt. Harry is not only rich but he was a friend once and is no longer. And Harry has designs on Jean-Claude’s Marianne. Catch is, Jean-Claude wants Harry’s 18-year old daughter Penelope (Jane Birkin). The whole thing dissolves into a hot, Gallic mess and naturally the plot takes a swan dive into shallow waters. Three people get sexed and the one who doesn’t ends up dead.
It’s twisted. But the film’s director manages to showcase the cast members’ supple curves so expertly, the electricity of their tense state, and even the Maser’s bravado from all the right angles that we can’t help but feel like we’re there, back then, with them. Feeling that V8 through gears. Swimming in their waters. Drinking their wine. Lusting along with them…
Trouble in paradise never seemed so seductive – or entertaining.