Year of the Duck
Wednesday 10 March 2010
So you’ll notice the 2010 refresh of www.rubberduckmag.com – with a new projects page, an eBay charity store and this home page, which will act as a daily blog.

But more importantly… what about the next issue of RubberDuckMag? Yeah yeah we know; it’s been a long old while since we were darting around in two manic Caterhams for Issue 02. To be honest there’s been a ton of stuff going on – under the cloak of darkness mostly – including a new fangled piece of digital software that will offer (we hope) a new and exciting means of interactive magazine consumption.

We’ve jumped ship too – waving a jolly farewell in fact to the scorching glamour of the Emirates – and relocating back home to the jolliness of the UK; once again basking in drizzle, sky-high fuel costs, country pubs, B-roads and Sunday roasts. We‘re in love all over again…

We’re still a smidge away from releasing Issue 03 all the same, but you can click the Next Issue parcel to the left, to see what’s in store for the most loyal of Duck devotees, once RubberDuck’s UK doors finally open up.

As always – we welcome emails from you, the dear reader – so why not drop us a line and say hello. And if you have two seconds spare we’d love your input in our fuss-free poll to the right there…

Enjoy! Jon ‘Saluki’ Saxon

Hooters and Horsepower
Sunday 07 March 2010
Indeed the Corvette is a fine car, but this hasn’t always been the case.

Back in the day engineers would sweep up the wishbones, springs, dampers, and overall build quality off of the shop floor and then brush it all under the front floor mats. Fingers crossed, the marketing department then prayed you’d forget that the brake discs and pads were still in a box on a shelf somewhere in a warehouse in Detroit – and not attached to a car you’d just spent your life savings on.

In the 1970s, so it happens, Chevrolet even forgot about the power… Which is probably why they saw fit to double-size the engine capacity of its latter-day Corvettes, more than likely to make up for lost time and poor workmanship all those decades ago.

7-litres of V8 is what you get these days – in terms of the Z06 – catapulting you, two seats, a shopping net and 512 horses to 198mph in no time at all. And all for the price of two peanuts!

Dubai drowning
Monday 01 March 2010
Darkness has fallen on Dubai’s decade of decadence, so it would appear, with the extravagant emirate on the brink of drowning in it’s own sand; taking with it a debt of billions, broken dreams and the golden era of glitz, glamour and gluttony.

Those days of jollying around Dubai eating money, drinking oil and bathing in fuel now seems such a distant memory.

Yet with all that money growing on those palm trees littering the platinum sidewalks of the UAE, not a bean was spent on proper drainage. Add a deluge and many deaths followed.

So akin to Angelina Jolie I did my bit for humanity back in 2008 by selflessly embarking on a demonstration to showcase the dangers of driving in the rain – summoning a band of merry men who shared my quest for education (including the ex-Lotus odd-job lad James Burnett) and headed to a duly drenched Dubai race circuit, fighting tooth and nail to complete a full lap of the track (by any means necessary) in the lashing rain, safely.

CSI LA in an AMG
Friday 26 February 2010
My travels have taken in many sights of the North American variety but until a recent Mercedes press trip to LA, never California. And may I say, what a lovely place it is.

With a glass of champagne in one hand and a serving of caviar in the other I gazed from my 50-million star hotel window – the day I arrived – at the long stretch of sandy beach; lapping waves, ladies limbering, busty bronzed broads playing beach volley ball and a gaggle of BMXers cherry-picking along the promenade.

The following morning I bathed to gentle jazz – only to be brought back to the reality of my surroundings once the TV was turned on…

The morning news stated that a woman brought up on drug smuggling charges in Colorado had been found dead in a freezer, in the hotel adjacent to mine. An off-duty police officer had skillfully shot dead three Mexicans before the stroke of midnight with an unregistered firearm outside a nightclub a block away and, while walking to harvest lemons, an 11-year old boy had sadly been caught up in a drive-by shooting, found dead at the scene half a mile from where I bathed in ass’s milk whilst supping pink grapefruit from a gold goblet.

But before these traumatic trimmings took hold, along came two life-affirming gifts from LA: La Preciosa 1440 (the finest in Hispanic AM radio) and a curious travel companion – back from LAX to Charles de Gaulle Paris – in the sizzling shape of Sara the Persian Princess; spoon-fed mango sorbet, talk of water facets, the sexuality of green sweaters and the history of peaches ensued.