Boswell’s and Pepys’s periodic bursts of lechery and panic; Chips Channon’s unrealistic dreams of political greatness ...

Hand-forged armor. Prehistoric bones. Music that’s never been digitized. This isn’t retail — it’s an invitation-only obsession.

It’s just that you are drawn to them inexorably, like a hungry dad to a chicken jalfrezi. The biggest father-son viewing vortex is anything about vintage cars (this applies to men who have never been ...