Growing up, I always wanted a lowrider but my mother insisted it would attract the wrong crowd. I guess I always understood and respected her concern as there was very little for kids to get into other than gangs in our small town. That didn’t mean I didn’t still have an affinity for their sleep lines and gold trim. So here I am, a thirty something year old with a lowrider in Queens, New York. Don’t worry mom, I think I made it past the “susceptible to gang life” phase.