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Official USPS Muscle Cars stamps coming to a mailbox near you

As much as our digital lives have cut down on our trips to the post office, there are still times that sending "snail mail" is necessary. With us car lovers in mind and philately in their hearts, the good folks at the United States Postal Service will introduce a new stamp design called "Muscle Cars" starting on February 22.
Designed by artist Tom Fritz, the new collection of stamps consist of five classic muscle cars: 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona, 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS, 1967 Shelby GT-500, 1966 Pontiac GTO and 1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda. In addition to just the stamps, the USPS is also commemorating the new series with plenty of collectable memorabilia. Previous car-related stamps include 50s Sporty Cars from 2005 and 50s Fins and Chrome from 2008.

Peter Max staring down $1M lawsuit over Corvette collection sale

Pop artist Peter Max recently sold off his collection of 36 vintage Chevrolet Corvettes – one each from 1953 to 1989 ­– for an undisclosed amount. The new owners have already announced plans to restore some of them and auction the models off sometime soon. Up until then, the sports cars had been languishing in various garages around New York City for decades and were caked in dust and grime. However, Max's end of the transaction has just become more complicated, because two men are suing the artist claiming he employed them to complete the deal first. The men allege that Max hired them to broker the sale of the 36 Corvettes in exchange for a 10-percent commission, according to the New York Post. They claim to have emails and text messages proving the existence of the deal, and are taking Max to court for $1 million over the squabble. The collection of Corvettes was amassed in 1989 as part of a prize package from the television network VH1, and Max bought the cars from the winner intending on using them for an art project. He never got around to it, though, and parked the sports cars around New York, until he finally sold them over the summer.

Autoblog In Cuba: 1957 Chevy Bel Air Review

If you've been following the Autoblog In Cuba series, you may remember that my efforts to rent a car in the country were ultimately unsuccessful. Misinformation, bad planning, and a lack of rental car inventory conspired to disrupt my hoped-for driving adventure. I discovered in my week of exploration, however, that the terrific thing about Havana is that there's always another adventure to be found – if you're willing to look. A car I could drive myself might have been impossible to come by, but a ride to remember was not. After all, even when reviewing a new car, I've found that impressions about the car and the route can be credibly formed from the right seat. Starting from the parking lot of the grand Hotel Nacional, finding an interesting car for hire is as simple as walking up and down the block. Scads of classic American iron wait just outside the hotel gates, in a riot of colors and conditions befitting the tropical climate. Fords from the 1940s are plentiful – more sedans than coupes – and the glory days of General Motors are represented by enough Pontiacs and Cadillacs to fill a Bruce Springsteen B-sides album. But the Chevy Bel Air is the king of the road here, by some margin. View 30 Photos I settled on a burnt orange 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible, in tourist-appropriate condition. I was looking for a hardtop at the request of my crew's audio/video needs, but settled on a burnt orange 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible, in tourist-appropriate condition. This car might look good as a prop in the background on your vacation photos – hair blowing in the breeze with the ocean at your back, parked in front of Che's face in Revolution Square, etc. – but was far from pristine on a closer inspection. A perfect representative of the Cuban average. At least the price was right: $50 for two hours to make it 12 miles to Hemingway's house, and back. My driver was a kid named Daniel who looked to be about 20 years old. The Chevy doesn't belong to him, he co-drives it with the owner, but he was able to give me the basic mechanical rundown. The eight- or six-cylinder engine that Chevy shipped this convertible with was long gone. No surprise there, as nearly every American-made car I'd ridden in so far was powered by some belching Mercedes diesel. Despite it's clattering note, Daniel said the lump under the hood of the '57 drinks gas: a four-cylinder of Russian origins, pulled out of a GAZ Volga as best I can understand.