He said: "The only thing better than sex is a hot car. I love the feel of fast acceleration; the smell of burnt oil; the blur of traffic as I pass. American used to be, when I was a teen, more open with less traffic and more open road. I loved reading about the Beats and their boozey treks to the West Coast and back, driving fast, picking up hitch hikers, be wreckless. I used to hang out at "underground" races that took place late at night on some empty road somewhere outside of town. My breathing gets short just thinking about it. Our cars were our identity. The kind of car you drove meant something to anyone who knew the code. I was my Mustang. It was what my friends knew about me. I drove a hot Mustang. End of story."

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