Favorite driver's magazines

"Transworld Motocross", February 1, 2013





Last month, I complained about the short battery life and crappy functioning of my iPhone 5. That’s when my buddy Andy Donahue turned me on to the Mophie Juice Pack, a portable power source that’s smaller than the phone but holds enough juice to charge it back to 100 percent power...twice! My iPhone 5 still does quirky stuff that frustrates me to no end, but my Mophie has saved me on a daily basis since I got it. Best of all, it recharges the phone as quickly as a wall jack would. Thanks, Andy!



After spending the day with James Stewart and checking out his new Seven gear, I came up with a grand idea. I want to launch an apparel line, designed for the vet rider. Sure, there’s been Phat Cat and Grey Wolf in the past, but my company — ATE — will take thick-guy riding gear to the next level! Only available in dark colors, ATE gear would feature only vertical stripes for a slimming effect. Even better, pant and jersey sizes would be modified for an esteem-boosting surprise: 40s would be tagged 34s, and XXLs as Ls. Now, all I need is an investor. Anyone?



After an untimely decision to cartwheel down the massive Mount St. Helens of Glen Helen Raceway instead of continuing my path still aboard the motorcycle, I found myself battered, bruised, and in need of some physical therapy. Thankfully, the infamous Doc G, chiropractor to the stars and enforcer for Ivan Tedesco, took some time in between rehabbing racers to attend to my foot, and he worked a small miracle. I will be back to taking dirt samples in no time. Now, if he would just take my insurance... Thanks, G!


I have recently gone on hiatus from my last imaginary R&B group, the ApoloGs, and it has allowed me time to pursue my hip-hop curiosities. Soon, I will be debuting my new imaginary rap group, the Weeknights, with the title track, “Happy Hour Ho’in’.” The album’s complete track list has yet to be determined, but there will assuredly be some bangers on there. Think Wu-Tang meets Robert Goulet. The Weeknights are when croonin’ and robbin’ are one.



I recently became the proud new owner of a sweet 1960s tandem beach cruiser. After previously being owned by my good friend Cliff Talley, he had no use for it and offered it up to me in return for my old mountain bike that I no longer use. All I can say is, cruising around Newport Beach just got a little more fun. As that old Doublemint gum commercial went, “Double your pleasure; double your fun.”


I dropped my iPhone — with the case on it — and broke the front glass. In an effort to save money, I decided to order new glass off Amazon for $30 rather than paying $80–$90 to get it repaired professionally. I’m such an idiot. After spending over two hours meticulously tearing apart my phone and rebuilding it, I got to the final step with a mystery brass piece and three screws that didn’t fit anywhere. Not wanting to figure it out, I sealed the phone back up and now the vibrate function doesn’t work, the top button doesn’t work, and the self-dimming feature on the screen doesn’t work. I’m an idiot.



Since I started working at TransWorld Motocross, I’ve been fortunate enough to go on numerous “business” trips. And at the end of 2012, I went to Ocotillo Wells with the Rockstar Energy Racing team. Although Ocotillo Wells is only two hours away from my house, it was insane to film the entire Supercross team get upside down of the massive natural hits. Be sure to check out the pictures from Brendan Lutes in upcoming issues to see why!


I’ve been listening to this band since high school, but I’ve never actually thought about going to one of their shows until about two months ago. Recently, I happened to find a dusty, scratched up Unwritten Law Greatest Hits CD. It was instantly like old times. I opened up my Ticketmaster app and found that they were playing at the House of Blues in Anaheim, California, that weekend. Without any hesitation, I called up my friends and bought the tickets. It was definitely one of the best shows I’ve been to, and hopefully I get to see them play again!



I became friends with rapper Meek Mill’s manager Coon Philly and was told whenever a show came by San Diego, I would have the full hook-up. Dude didn’t lie. When the MMG Tour with Meek, Wale, and Rick Ross stopped at the Viejas Arena, I was given a full pass. Yes, everything you assume happens backstage at a concert actually does go down, and no, I was not the awkward kid in the room. Should be no time ’til I’m inducted into the Maybach Music Group and get my chain.


When I head back to the 618 for the holidays, I fly strictly out of Palm Springs. Why drive two hours to the middle of the desert when San Diego is 40 minutes away? Everyone is polite, tickets and parking are dirt cheap, and security is extremely lax because I rarely ever have to go through the terrifying body scanners. My only gripe is that the actual plane rides are freezing cold, but I guess that is to keep the bodies from going bad.

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