Look, I’m tired.
Not sleepy tired. The other kind. The kind where you scroll through another car page and see another widebody kit on another car that will never see a real road. Another photo of a guy standing next to his ride with his arms crossed like he just won an argument no one was having.
Everything is loud now. Too much carbon fiber. Too much horsepower you can’t use. Too much shouting about nothing.
That’s not why I got into cars.
The Feeling Nobody Talks About Anymore
I got into cars because of a feeling. The way a door closes. Not a thud. A thunk. Solid. The way the road looks through an old windshield at sunset. The way a car feels when you’ve taken just a little weight out of it. Not race car light. Just… freer. Like it exhaled.
That feeling? Nobody talks about it anymore.
So here I am.
I’m 43. I live in Santa Barbara. I used to write for car magazines. Now I do brand stuff. Creative director work. But the thing that never left is this: I love cars that make sense in real life.
Not garage queens. Not dyno heroes. Just honest cars.
This blog is for the quiet people.
The ones who park far away not because they’re scared of dings, but because they want to look back at the car as they walk away. The ones who take the long way home because the short way is boring. The ones who know that taste isn’t about money. It’s about not adding something stupid.
I’m divorced. No kids. That’s not sad. It’s just space. Space to think. Space to drive. Space to sit in a hotel lobby and watch what pulls up. You learn a lot about people by how they treat their car at a valve stand.
What I Believe (Short List, No Screaming)
Here’s what I believe:
A good car doesn’t need to be fast. It needs to feel good at normal speeds. Because most of us are just going to coffee. Or the coast. Or nowhere in particular.
Light modifications beat big builds. Swap the wheels. Lose the unnecessary weight. Make the steering talk to you. That’s it. You don’t need a roll cage to enjoy a Tuesday.
Style is restraint. A car that screams is a car that’s trying too hard. A car that whispers? That’s confidence.
I shoot 35mm film. Not because it’s trendy. Because it slows me down. You can’t spray and pray with film. You wait. You think. You pick your moment. That’s how I like my driving too.
I write in cafes. Handlebar Coffee most days. Oat latte. Two hours. No rush.
And I watch. The guy in the old Porsche who backs into the spot carefully. The young couple who leave their hatchback dirty but loved. The valet kid who knows exactly which car to park up front.
Those little moments? That’s the real car culture. Not the YouTube drama. Not the build-off. Just people and their machines. Living together.
Why This Place Is Called Driving With Taste
I call this place Driving With Taste.
Not because I’m an expert. I’m just a guy who’s made enough bad choices to know what good looks like.
If you’ve ever sat in a parked car just to finish a song. If you’ve ever washed your car at 9pm because the light was nice. If you’ve ever kept a car too long because letting it go felt like losing a friend.
You’re in the right place.
No ads yet. No agenda. Just notes from a creative director who still likes to write. And drive. And think about why both of those things still matter.
So yeah. That’s why this blog exists.
Because the car world got too loud.
And I missed the quiet part.
Thanks for being here. Pull up a chair. Or a curb. Whatever works.
