Tuesday, August 6, 2013

THE EMPEROR'S NEW FIRESUIT




The racer's edge. It doesn't come in a can. (Photographer unknown)


AN EDITORIAL, sung to the tune of The Emperor's New Clothes:

A musty stench of complacency lingers over NHRA headquarters in Glendora, California. But not for long. Due to a magnificent collision of nitro fueled racing spirit and corporate pretzel logic (see last week's blog), drag racing stands poised to reinvent itself. Or become an historical footnote. It could go either way. It must. Static status quo is no longer an option. Alas, whiny finger pointing runs so rampant as to obscure the opportunity of our lifetime. Shame on us all if we don't take responsibility for our own destinies and become proactive.

Personally, as a test and tune guy, the drags at my level have been and continue to be one of the few constants of high velocity stability in my sometimes chaotic life. For that alone, I'm eternally grateful to the pioneers who brought organized drag racing about, and the thousands of hard working believers who keep it going. It's trendy today to be cynical about the subject, but I just love speed, the colorful legacy of drag racing, and having a safe, legal place to test my work. Much better traction than on the street, too. As for the money-fueled Pro category debate, my uninformed opinion has no value today. I'll let my (behind-the-scenes) actions do the talking. I believe it will work out however it's meant to. Thank you.

         So much finger pointing lately, it's hard to see the horizon for the birds. Everybody's doing it.(Photographers unknown)

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Those of you with eyesight may have noticed something unusual about last week's post. Several lines of text in Ray Guarino's report on Long Island street racing were obviously censored. I was every bit as shocked, disappointed, and upset as you were to find the blog had been tampered with. So I pulled on my detective pants and got to work. It's what I do. After several days of methodic cyber-sleuthing, traditional flat-footing, and exhaustive arm twisting, I was shocked, disappointed and upset to realize that it was I who mangled the text! My sincere apologies to Ray Guarino and to you, dear readers. You all deserve better.

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THE WEEK IN INK...

Lucky again. This is my second cover story for my favorite magazine. Doubly sweet. Get yours now!


Meanwhile, Elapsed Times is leaving smoking black marks on news stand sales sheets. Well deserved, guys! And highly recommended!



Sales of the new CarTech book are brisk (Thank you all!), and I'm hard at work on the next one.



Okay, this is virtual ink, but quasi-retired NHRA scribe Bob Frey did a nice piece on my racing pal Todd Miller, on the Drag Race Central website. Todd's Bill Comstock-constructed T roadster has established an imposing presence in Competition Eliminator this season (Translation: He's kicking everyone's ass!). Congrats, Todd and Bill! You definitely earned it. (Photographer forgotten)



Bedtime stories: This week's selections were carefully displayed for photo purposes. They're normally in a sloppy heap beside the bed.


Last night's choice.


The November '62 HRM (cover shown above) features an in-depth account of Ray Brock and company flat-towing the Hot Rod Magazine Special '62 Plymouth Super Stocker from L.A. to Indy to compete at the Nationals. Event coverage was reported from the inside-out, producing an ultra-credible "you-are-there" reading experience. What a gem. (Photos by Scotty)


August 2nd, 2013, 11:13 PM. Graphic Designer and Digital Fairy Princess Christy Collins uploads Racing to America (my first independently published book) to the printer. This moment has been nearly two years in the making. (Photo by Christy Collins' cell phone. Thank you Siri)


Fingerz Mullan, owner/operator of the Nitro Ape altered. Fingerz and partner Andi sent funds from New Zealand last week to make this week's publishing milestone possible. The transaction took place while transporting their Altered to Australia for a good old fashioned match race tour. Talk about above and beyond. HEROS!!!

 While I push buttons in air conditioned comfort, Fingerz and the Nitro Ape do battle with Australia's nastiest Altereds. Please join me in cheering on the little smallblock that could, this week and next. (Photos courtesy of Fingerz Mullan)


   What the fuss is all about. Will it hit store shelves in time for Christmas shopping? It appears possible as of today, but we'll find out together. That's the Nitro Ape Bantam, flying onto the Lance Sorchik-designed cover. (Image by Jumpstart Graphics, copyright 2013 Gosson Bros. Racing Library, photo digitization by Olympus, image manipulation thanks to Adobe Photoshop user agreement #P7000LMN699-436ZZ85658654BG5789Y6589O48T78TYJFSE89TYN8T87N _345345OIDGJN cheesesneeze88888NERY8ITIH85T58575H___845675658796BN8N85675897N6Y8O8LYL54Y5786, caption italics by Hewlett Packard, under licensing agreement from Blogger.com, courtesy of Microsoft Windows)


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UPDATES:


Rob James was well into editing the Scotty Gosson Combo video at James Drive Studio when an unexpected game changer put the project on hold this week. I can't tell you what happened yet, but I can guarantee the delay will be worthwhile. The matchbook cover above is an important clue. Those hip to the Red Apple have good reason to anticipate this video... (Photos by Scotty)


THE ROAD:

Due to funding cuts (to my wallet, not to SourceInterlink or Cartech Inc), my annual summer road trip to gather event coverage has been cancelled. This development threw a monkey wrench into the works of event promoters and publishers alike. It hasn't done me any favors, either. While I'm extremely disappointed, I'm also grateful for a little more time to work on book and magazine projects. Such is life. Sigh... (State and capitol US map copyright 2013 www.mapsofworld.com updated on 13th May,2013)


ANOTHER PIONEER LOST:

Stephanie Eggum was a player in the Front Wheel Drive revolution that spawned the National Organization for Pro Imports, and gave Gen X drag racers a big-stage series to call their own. NOPI racing  inspired a new wave of ingenuity in a stagnant quarter mile world. Her turbo Honda pulled Stephanie into the 7 Second Club and several Winners Circles during two years of competition in the Nitrous Express Pro Four Cylinder "Chic Class" for female drivers. She also piloted Top Alcohol Dragsters and Funny Cars. An avowed skydiving enthusiast well before her drag racing debut, Eggum died during a group ring jump with "40 to 50 other divers" last Thursday, according to The Elgin (Illinois) Tribune. The Trib also reported: "Eggum had cut her main chute for some reason, but deployed her reserve chute at (too) low altitude and plummeted into a corn field." Stephanie Eggum was 32 years old. (Photographers unknown)

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          You think I don't know why you really click onto this blog? Oh, I know. I know all too well...
These vermin have pretty much taken over the site. I can't get rid of them. What really creeps me out is that they're dead ringers for my high school buddies and I... (Photo courtesy of Floyd Lippencott III Jr.)

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Next week: Pontiac Tech Tips from Motormouth Ray, The Sleeper of the Week, and the most promising candidate yet for Squirrel of the Year. Try to find that combination in the new National Dragster. Or anywhere else in the known universe.

                                                                          Party on!!!









Monday, July 29, 2013

Drag-U-La Exposed! PLUS: Artie's Party, Hot Corporate Double Jangle, and This Week's Squirrel

Dave Shuten's recreation of Ed Roth's Mysterion graces the cover. Among the surrealism between the covers lurks the Drag-U-La show/go car... 

NOTE: Text problems on this post will hopefully be corrected soon. My apologies. Damn electrons...

She impatiently flipped through the pages of America's Wildest Show Rods with a languid nonchalance that reminded me of myself, feigning interest in the multiple shoe catalogs that arrive daily at the Saint Shellski Cathedral. When she abruptly stopped, I couldn't resist an over-her-shoulder peek at what had caught Shellski's attention. It was the Drag-U-La Goth Box dragster. I was impressed that she was drawn in by an obviously drag-influenced show rod. In the feature, I mentioned that builder Dick Dean made three fiberglass copies of the car (all based on Nelson-Martin Dragmaster chassis kits). While those tribute Drag-U-Las apparently decayed away with the ages, one (claimed to be the original) resides at The Autoseum in Mineola, New York. Owner Andy Perillo has been known to take it out for the occasional street blast. So when SGE East Coast correspondent Ray Guarino tipped me to rumors of an impending Sunday afternoon grudge match between Pirello's Drag-U-La and "a similar car", I dispatched him to the scene, and soon received the following report from Ray:

"They ran a couple of cars built by a local guy named Jimmy first: The Coffin Car (a street version of Drag-U-La) and his Boothill Express replica. That warmed the crowd up, so they pulled out the original Drag-U-La and lined it up against the Boot Hill to best replicate the Drag-U-La vs Munster Koach pairing from the Munsters TV show. (Episode 36, "Hot Rod Herman" -  Filmed at Riverside Raceway - SG). 

The Express runs a 350/350 combo with an S-10 rearend and smokes the meats at will. It took Jimmy less than 6 months to build and is registered as a '28 Ford. I guess that's the chassis he started with, or the horn button he's using. Drag-U-La uses a Ford 289 engine backed with a TH-350 trans. It'll move, but hasn't been driven harder than around a show field in many years. Besides, the Drag-U-La is the #1 car that Barris had Dick Dean build for the TV show and is ultra-priceless, so they knew they weren't going to make a full bore pass with it.

The cars lined up as it started to drizzle. The drivers (Jimmy, reining the Express, and museum director Sam Pardo at Drag-U-La's butterfly) brought up the RPMs and the cars took off, with the Express smoking the tires and Drag-U-La bogging a bit.

The express got the jump on Grandpa Munster's old ride and was ahead by a couple of car lengths by half track. Right about then, the rain increased and the spotter at the end of the track bailed for cover into a waiting car. The Express peeled off to hide under a stand of trees, and Drag-U-La beat it back to the safety of the Autoseum.

The end of the story is that we don't actually know if Drag-U-La had enough top end charge to pass the Express. The only way we'll ever know is if we can get these two dead-relics back for another round of Long Island street racing, the way we like it: Down and dirty on a Sunday, when Johnny Law is munching donuts at a nearby Dunkin' store!"

Upon further investigation, Ray dug up this little nugget: "I happen to know the builder of this car, and caught him red handed trying to pawn off the dual quads on top of the Ford engine as real, when in fact, they're dummies on a fiberglass intake, hiding a 2 barrel!! He's a fabricator and builder (Barris' East Coast guy), and he wasn't too happy that I nailed him. I said something along the lines of "don't ever try fooling a grease monkey with fiberglass", turned, and left the room! Anyone who tries to sandbag a hot rodder deserves to be called out! Actually, Andy is a good guy, and he did exactly what he was asked to do: Build a functional, yet demonic looking car that could be driven. So I can't fault him in the long run. But c'mon, he had to know someone would catch on. Then again, most people never get close enough to those cars to see little things like fuel line routing and linkages, so I guess I did have an upper hand. To his credit, that car has been together for many years and has gone unchallenged, so I guess he won in the long run. I should tell you about the lamp parts he cast for some of the coffin decoration..."

The following graphic evidence accompanied Ray's report (though the captions are mine):

Ray (left) and Chris, posing as tourists at the Autoseum, while secretly gathering data on Perillo's Drag-U-La. (Spy cam photos courtesy of Ray Guarino)


Fistfuls of dollars were reportedly exchanged along with plenty of smacktalk, long before the cars even left the shop. Nice T-shirt on the headband guy. (Photo courtesy of Ray Guarino)


What more appropriate foe for Drag-U-La than a Boothill Express tribute? Instead of a heavy Hemi like the unavailable original, this Express sports a svelte smallblock Chevy. Place your bets now for a classic Chevy vs Ford street shootout...(Photo courtesy of Ray Guarino)


The contestants were rolled out onto the street in front of the Autoseum, lined up, and set free. The spirit of Grandpa Munster battled Ray Farhner's ghost down the County Seat Highway for all the marbles, until they encountered rain and were forced to lift. (Photos courtesy of Kenny Hammer)




Sayeth Ray: "Personally, I would have driven the Drag-U-La myself if I had the chance, but then again, those ancient slicks probably would have protested a bit too much, and I never did like seeing a third member perched between my legs and MY member!!!" I don't know what Ray's worried about. This 3rd member is upholstered in sumptuous velvet. Looks safe and comfy, to me. (Photo by Ray Guarino)


Jimmy's beefy Coffin Car (a fiberglass Drag-U-La copy) and the spindly original Drag-U-La, comparing notes. There's footage of the Coffin Car driving down the street at the Autoseum facebook page, and video of the great show rod street race should be posted soon.

(Ray's) Famous last words: "I guess you could call this something like Ridiculous Right Coast Street Racing: We'll race a Camry against a Cammer, a Supra against a Super Duty, or whatever else happens to show up!" 


BONUS COVERAGE: At last week's Syracuse Nationals, Ray's pal Artie Shilling and his "Artie's Party" pinstriping army arrived en masse from around the globe, brushing everything that wasn't nailed down, to raise over $73,000 for local charities. Talk about your hot rod heroes! Ray snapped these pix "when surreptitiously snuck into the pinstripers hidden lair at night, while they were all in the bar."


                            Nice likeness of Artie and his beloved Riviera at the panel jam.


                                                     More free range improv  jamming...


Ray: "How long have you been striping, Artie?" Artie: "Uh, well... Jeez... I dunno..... A long time." (Photos courtesy of Ray Guarino)

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THE REALITY SLAP HEARD FROM DETROIT TO GLENDORA:

It's a mystery why it took so long for it to happen, but last week, Ford Motor Company finally announced their departure from Pro-level drag racing, effective at the close of the 2014 season. Since the announcement, much hand wringing and tooth gnashing has produced little in the way of learning any lessons from the inevitable, to prevent more of the same in the future. It's been at least forty years since Pro Stockers or Funny Cars resembled anything on showroom floors, and the resulting public apathy (and outright anger at witnessing Toyota's elbowing into American motorsports) has emptied more grandstands than Rosanne Barr's national anthem (though many feel it was right up there with the Jimi Hendrix version).

On the positive side, Ford says they'll continue a presence in Sportsman racing, with their Cobra Jet Stock and Super Stock programs. It's nice to see the Sportsmen getting some overdue OEM love. Last year, the NHRA itself announced a new focus on Sportsman racing, but any actual changes remain to be seen, from here anyway. Perhaps the future cure is a return to the past, with brand recognition and quarter mile Pro shows? Or maybe face present tense reality with turbo Pro Stocks? Either way, it sure would be refreshing to let sponsor decals do the talking, and dock drivers points for redundant recitations of sponsor names already plastered all over their cars. Meanwhile, there's a palpable fear that GM and Chrysler will follow Ford's lead, scaring off other corporate sponsors in the process, ultimately forcing NHRA to fold up the tent for good, and place drag racing back into the hands of grassroots-level enthusiasts - you know, "ingenuity in action" and all that anarchy stuff.

PS: Was I the only one to notice mostly empty grandstands on TV coverage of NHRA's Sonoma show last weekend? Apparently, the fans are voting at the turnstiles. Democracy!

Dragster: Instantly identifiable engine. Driver nickname matches personality: Uber innovator Sneaky Pete Robinson, thrilling a SRO crowd with a Ford SOHC motor. This show sold some tickets...

Factory Experimentals: Just like mom's car, on acid. Funny looking, but man, what a trip! Ted "Kansas Badman" De Tar flies away from wind sail Dodge in his Falcon, as SRO crowd cheers favorite marque. This action sold some cars...




Um... I think it's a Hyundai Pro Stocker. No wait - just noticed the Ford logos. Not sure what engine though - a 289? Looks like an old rear-wheel-drive car. Weird...

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Time is rapidly running out before I hit the road for a month of event coverage. I hope to post a farewell report on next week's blog before taking off. I'll be out there with no computer, just a camera, spiral notebook, and a stubby pencil. If I survive, I should have some fun stories to share when I return. I'm considering entrusting the blog driver's seat to Saint Shellski and/or Motormouth Ray in my absence. Stay tuned to see what happens...

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As advertised, this week's squirrel:


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This could be your lucky week!

Scotty





Tuesday, July 23, 2013

HOT WEEKEND SALAD Suitable for ages 8 to 80

                               This guy has the future all mapped out. Don't tell him it can't happen.

So much fretting over the future of hot rodding. So little faith in the spawn of nitro-altered chromosomes. I don't get it. Just because our own synapse system has corroded doesn't mean petrochemical poisoning has had an adverse effect across the board. Young roosters still get their feet wet with exposure to any manner of mechanical merriment, then sample other pursuits until the adventures deliver them to their own niche. Everything's new, but nothing has really changed. Here's a toast to the future, and our offspring who drag us along for the ride.

       My nephew Riley Gosson, at a car show with his pick of the day. I couldn't be any more proud.

Even the late model guys don't last forever. We received a couple reminders this week that none of us know how long our fuse is. All around great guy and beloved track character Steve "Nitro Man" Wallace died suddenly of unknown causes. I saw Steve less than a year ago at Famoso, so stoked on horsepower bliss that his feet barely touched the ground - he just vibrated around the facility, manically thrilled to greet everyone he saw. He couldn't have been any more full of life. I didn't shoot any photos that day, so have downloaded some for you here. My apologies and thanks to the unknown photogs.

Nitro Man carried the passion for drag racing's roots right past many veterans too cynical to hear him. With "characters" in short supply in the age of conformist paranoia, Steve was a national treasure.

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From the Honoring Veterans Department: Paul "Tug Boat" Candies also passed on this week. Renowned for his mega-successes with  Funny Car and Top Fuel partner Leonard Hughes, Paul's family can take pride and solace in decades of achievements driven by an untameable passion. Paul Candies envisioned and implemented the team concept in pro drag racing, decades before John Force and Don Schumacher took the blame. Love 'em or hate 'em, teams win Championships, thanks to Candies' foresight. Children P.B., Brett, and grandson Devin carry on the legacy with Candies signage on their (Stock and Super Stock) Drag Pack Mopars and Cobra Jet Mustangs.

Candies & Hughes employed the hottest shoes of the day, from Richard Tharp and Mark Oswald to Leonard Hughes himself. But most fans still associate Leroy Goldstein with the C&H butterfly. The Wale and Candies AA/FD showed at Bowling Green's Hot Rod Reunion this year with an enormous fuel tank, ensuring it would be the last Cackle Car running, and so it was. Candies wins again!


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SGE International reporter Jacques Vandenbergh (from Classic Cars and Lifestyle Magazine) checked in this week with coverage of the Goodwood Festival of Speed from England. As my unflagging pursuit of event entry for the Son of Godzilla Morris continues unrequited, the event somehow carries on. Baffling.

Jacques failed to report on the number of hay bails ignited by nitro flames from the Rat Trap Fuel Altered during the hill climb. But he saved face with nice photos of these Euro rods, including the Mercedes Dream Truck that inspired Dean Moon's version, built from a '61 El Camino and now under restoration by Florida's Geoff Hacker. Photos by Jacques Vandenbergh

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SGE East Coast correspondent Ray Guarino submitted this report from last week's Syracuse Nationals in New York. The Right Coast Association blowout was bigger than ever, but was sadly overstocked with pastel and billet filler. Unfazed, Cub Reporter Ray sniffed out the good stuff for discerning SGE eyes to savor - a nice sample of East Coast reality, from pitiful salt carnage to righteously restored historical hilarity.

That's our man Ray on the left, obliging a fan who wanted a photo. You may recognize Ray's mug from the Motor Mouth radio show (and it's the perfect face for radio). We've devised an exchange program, wherein we'll contribute to each other's media outlets while covering events. Expect plenty of down-and-dirty  Pontiacs, tired race cars, and crusty station wagons from both of us. Photos by Ray Guarino

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WARNING: Self Indulgent Post!

Shellski the party planner. She could spin plates on the Ed Sullivan Show. Photo by Scotty

I still have no idea how she does it. For years, I've watched slackjawed as my girlfriend Saint Shellski throws together dinner parties on a moment's notice - every one a delicious smash hit. This weekend it was finally my turn.

To celebrate the completion of the new Scotty Gosson Combo album ("Surfing the Asphalt Playground"), producer/drummer Rob James and I decided to make a promotional video. We began planning the logistics two weeks ago. And that's exactly when the wheels began to come off. By the morning of the shoot, everything had unraveled. We had no video camera. The club we booked to shoot "live" performance scenes was locked and empty. What to do? In the spirit of the album, we winged it on the fly. As usual, it all worked out better than our original laughable plans. Look for the finished(?) product here soon. Keep your expectations low and you won't be too disappointed.

We called a "band" meeting at slingshot pilot Ronnie Mankins' house. My brother Mark (left) and BFF Dr. Lockjaw (right) were pressed into service as our fake rhythm guitar and bass players, respectively. Saint Shellski (foreground) agreed to shoot footage on her cell phone. Ronnie was supposed to play the band manager role, but was nowhere to be found. So far, so good. But hey, check the orange '41 Ford coupe in the background... Photo by Scotty

Ronnie's next door neighbor now owns this conservative custom street rod, built at Warmington Coach Works, where I labored for a few years. Dr. Lockjaw helped with the graceful chop and I did the bodywork: Molding in fenders, Frenching lights, rounding corners, sinking license plate, etc. It came out nice, and triggered some amusing memories. Photo by Scotty


We soon learned that Ronnie was helping partner Dave Hicks build his new Fuel Altered at Bill Comstock's Acme Garage (20 miles away) and had run into some glitches. But he hightailed it home in his 6-cylinder '56 Chevy in under 15 minutes! Most impressive. Photo by Ronnie Mankins


Upon Ronnie's arrival, we piled into the bandmobiles and fried rubber to James Drive Studio, where Rob had been waiting for us. Photo by Scotty


We shot some "recording" footage in Rob's garage/studio, while Mark and Doc got the hang of the song. Then Doc offered to let me drive his Deuce to our next location.That turned out to be a mistake. But so much fun! Photo by Scotty


We jammed our gear into the '56 and caravanned across town to the Oakdale Laundromat for a surprise guerrilla performance. Thanks to my itchy clutch foot, Doc's blown smallblock/4-speed coupe put on a good show, but allowed the 6-banger Chevy to walk away from every stoplight. How embarrassing.... Photo by Mark Gosson


Our triumphant arrival at the laundromat. There were two very tired women inside, sitting on a bench, and a guy folding his laundry. Ronnie plays the band manager role with exacting accuracy. This was planned to be a nude performance, but weighing visual shock against police record risk, we silently rocked the joint (no power outlets) and split before the fuzz came. Photo by Shellski


We beelined over to the SGE complex to shoot the epic final scene. But first, we called a lunch break, just like the big Hollywood studios do. Saint Shellski lugs band equipment to the soundstage in 100 degree heat, while I condition myself with a cool refreshing drink. Showbiz is grueling ( just ask Shellski) - gotta protect the moneymaker at all costs ("Honey, where's my Vaseline-filled gloves?"). Photo by Mark Gosson


While Shellski desperately foraged for pizza out on the sizzling streets, the guys and I soaked up the air conditioning (set on "Wrist Pin Shrinkage"), caught up on local gossip, and nitpicked this month's magazines in the spacious SGE lobby. We eventually had to don flannel shirts. Brrr... We were napping when Shellski returned with the pizza. We savored our dinner while she wired power to the patio, set up the equipment, tuned instruments, did a sound check, set out food and drink, arranged patio furniture, watered the plants, and greeted invited guests (she did a fine job on the invitations, too). Photo by Mark Gosson

Saint Shellski did a nice clean stage set-up around our Monolith Of Shock And Awe sound system (at left), which rivals anything Stanley Ousley ever rigged up for the Grateful Dead. It's also much more efficient, requiring only one roadie, compared to fifty (thanks again, Hon!). Photo by Mark Gosson


"And now... Ladies and gentlemen... Direct from the Oakdale Landromat... Please welcome home... Gosson Bros. Racing Library recording artists, the Scotty Gosson Combo!" Shellski (exploiting Full Access Stage Pass and obscuring Dr. Lockjaw) captures the magic moment via cell phone, as uncounted Bic lighters melt down. The crowd went ape shit and we played like possessed demons (it was now well over 100 degrees). Photo by Richie Rich

The scene about ten feet from the stage. If the gate and opening were a bit wider, we could've parked rods with us onstage, but this was still a pretty cool setting. Photo by Mark Gosson

Allow me to introduce you around. First, our amazing hardcore audience: Dear friends and neighbors Sandinista and Richie Rich... Photo by Scotty

And Tim Proctor, who was the Starter during my tenure at Champion Raceway. We hadn't seen each other in ages, so his surprise appearance was a true shocker. Tim's heat gun showed a stage floor temperature of 157 degrees at curtain time. Adjusted altitude was over 6,500 feet. But Crewchief Ronnie's clutch setting was spot on: Traction on the cobblestone surface was ice-like, yet we hooked and ran hard. Photo by Scotty

Contrary to popular belief, the Scotty Gosson Combo is not a new offering from Burger King, but an assemblage of incredibly wonderful individuals. Top of the list has to be Saint Shellski (AKA Shelley Kaldunski), who could've effortlessly made this endeavor a total success, but I didn't have the heart to burden her with it. She missed a whole day's work as it was, just to video our sillyness. You're a total badass, Hon. Photo by Scotty

 Dr. Lockjaw (AKA Jamie Ford) has been my best friend for many years now. I asked him to do this gig just so I could say I asked him, never dreaming that he'd actually do it. He seemed to actually enjoy getting out of the shop for a day of playing rock star. I owe you (another) one, Doc! Photo by Scotty

When we were little kids, brother Mark had a flimsy little toy drumset and I had a cheesy cheapo guitar. We pretended to play concerts in the living room. Our furniture thought we were great! Who could've guessed that training would pay off so handsomely, decades later? Meanwhile, Mark worked with some real bands, during rare off-hours from running parts houses, raising a family, building cars, and promoting events. On this day, he totally inhabited the role of slacker guitar player. Could this be the opening of a new chapter in the life of an inveterate overachiever? Stay tuned... Photo by Scotty

You must feel like you know Rob James by now. Our recording project at his garage studio has been pretty well documented on this blog. What you probably don't know is that Rob recorded this album gratis, and it's only one of many he's done this way. He believes in documenting and sharing music at the grassroots level. If he digs the jams, they'll get the royal treatment. God bless him for that! He's also a total funster to hang with and has become a great friend to myself and to the world of music in general. When not hanging with his family or sweating in the studio, Rob wheels a forklift in a warehouse and enjoys gardening.

The face we're counting on to launch this video to viralism. Ronnie Mankins and I met at the drags many years ago and instantly sensed that we have more in common than not. We've been through a lot together since then. But we only recently realized our shared love of guitar. Nice surprise! Ronnie's been chasing his dream of being a fulltime butterfly tamer since before we met. He's wrangled some nasty diggers, altereds, and even some killer doorslammers, and has prodded each of them to their best numbers. This guy can drive. He's licensed and ready to suit up. He supports his habit by wheeling and dealing in race cars, trailers, and a zillion individual associated parts. He also has mouths to feed, so buy his stuff and help send a nice kid to the big show.

NOW do you see why I can claim to be the luckiest guy in town? And these are just SOME of my friends!

UPDATE: The day after the shoot, Saint Shellski, Sheila the Wonder Dog and I headed to the mountains to catch our breath. We returned to find that Rob James had already thrown together a sample of the video and sent it to me. It's gonna be funky-cool. Wait for it...

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