Tuesday, October 8, 2013

SPECIAL EDITION: THE WEEK IN INK

The current (November 2013) issue of Hot Rod Deluxe is an instant collectible. Dave Wallace Jr.'s bittersweet farewell editorial ("Flag Man") details the what, when, where and why. Dave turns this issue over to the readers in a gracious salute to the people who make magazines matter. There's an extensive two-part interview with Dave on this blog (4-30-2011 and 5-17-2011) that's worth seeking out, thanks to his words, not mine.


Selling programs at the pit gate is one way into hot rod photojournalism. It worked for this guy in 1962. (Photo courtesy of DW Jr.)


The same kid (Dave Wallace Jr.), shot at Lake Famoso in 2006 by Bill Pratt. Still following in his dad's footsteps.



The new kid at HRD. Yep, it's Drew Hardin - says so right on his chest. The name tag is for posthumous ID purposes - Drew is about to be clobbered by an out-of-control Goodyear blimp. What a way to go!


Drew has been at it for over 30 years now. The former Editor of Hot Rod, Sport Truck, Hop Up, 4-Wheel & Off-Road is well qualified to drive the HRD machine. He's stoked. You should be, too.



Drew at the office. He's obviously willing to do whatever it takes. (Drew pix courtesy of SourceInterlink)


The days of ink-fueled print periodicals may be numbered (squids rejoice!), but they're definitely going out in style. No matter your preferred niche-within-a-niche, from Hungarian translations of Farmers Almanac reprints to the Extreme Knitting swimsuit issue, there's a magazine custom designed just for you on the shelf these days. And while content quality still varies, layouts and photos have never had it so good, across the board.

Exhaustive research by the SGE staff finds Hot Rod Deluxe magazine to be the tastiest dish on the periodical table. No surprise there. Though easily pacing its older sister in sales, a couple of lingering mysteries threaten to restrain young HRD from its potential greatness:

A. People often make reference to feature stories that "I saw in Hot Rod", but in fact originated at HRD. The confusion works both ways, as HRD has sometimes been credited for pieces from HRM. There is a difference: Hot Rod deals mostly in current events, while Hot Rod Deluxe focuses primarily on rodding's history. Yet, confusion lingers. Marketing two such similar titles and logos may have seemed pragmatic at launch time, but could be backfiring now.

2. "I can't find HRD at the store." I get this a lot. The publisher, SourceInterlink, boasts a world-class distribution network. HRD is considered a "Specialty Title" - that's understood. But why such titles don't receive the same distribution as the company's other products strikes me as bizarre. I'm not privy to how these decisions are made. Luckily, subscriptions are available at www.circsource.com. Problem solved - except for a stubborn few who still insist on driving their heaps to the store to make their purchase. That's how I did it for most of my life. I enjoyed the ritual. But subscriptions have spoiled me - I never miss an issue now.

There is no logical explanation for how I came to be an HRD regular. It was purely cosmic. All I know is, I'm way beyond lucky to have worked with my hero Dave Wallace Jr. for the last three years. Dave has provided me crash course instruction on Photography for Dumbasses, Gonzo Event Coverage, Interview Finesse, and Dodging Mountain-sized Egos. He's also gracefully introduced me to every legend I've ever heard of in hot rodding - they all know and love Dave, for good reason: He knows his stuff and is a total funster, 24/7. His exhaustive passion for documenting hot rodding's history has nearly killed him more than once (Dave was born without an OFF switch), so we're all lucky that he has now traded his frayed Editor's cap for a freelancer's crash helmet and a quieter, safer life of dodging errant race cars at trackside. That's right - another former boss is now my competition. Dave's replacement, Drew Hardin, is already proving steady and true. Amazingly, Drew is doing this in Freiburgeresque fashion, editing HRD and Muscle Car Review, simultaneously. Place your bets now on the average life expectancy of the North American SourceInterlink editor.

I find the current HRM status quo to be pretty damn entertaining. Here's three guys who haven't slept in years, yet never stop talking to us. The Freiburger and Finnegan show has found a hot groove and settled into prime time. But all is temporary... (Photo courtesy of Hotrod.com)

The future of print media? It could go that way...

 Just a few short years later, our man seems ready for anything. Kleet Norris is a giant among HRD contributors.

Kleet may be too giant to fit all the way into an Anglia, but he's in there anyway, banging away. He's also currently hammering out his first book for CarTech Inc. (Photos courtesy of Kleet Norris)

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The speedshift from magazine writing to book authoring a few years ago was quite a growth opportunity/reality slap. Working for an established publishing house like CarTech made things much easier than they would have otherwise been - just write it up and hand it over to their production staff. Self publishing the Gosson Bros. Racing Library books has been a humbling experience, so far. The good news is, every day I learn something valuable. The other news is, I wish I had a production staff and a budget. Most humbling lesson to date: Don't promote the product until it's ready to ship. Duh.
The brand America trusts for cheap hot rod non-fiction. Just look for the filthy hand print. The grease stains indicate content is fresh off the workbench. 

Until the GBRL books actually print, here's some that you can enjoy right now. They're finished and everything:

Thanks to the experienced professionals at Cartech Inc., these titles are available worldwide.

Thanks to the loose nut behind the wheel at the Gosson Bros. Racing Library, these products have been growing mold in literary purgatory:

The unborn. A haunting that only money can tame. Some wonderful people have tried to assist, but it wasn't meant to be - yet. 

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My advice to aspiring automotive photojournalists? I got nuthin'. Just my experience. And I arrived very late to the party, with no education or experience. I tend to romanticize the "golden era" (50s to 70s), when automotive writers were gods cooking up typewritten feasts, served to us ravenous readers on a paper platter. I can only pass along the following, suggested to me by my heroes: Go where the action is and stick your hand out. If you're old (like me), take computer and digital camera classes. I wish I would have done those things. As it is, I'm isolated from the southern California vortex of hot rodding, uneducated, and utterly overwhelmed by electrons - I can handle a keyboard, but the rest of the computer terrifies me. I point-and-shoot a camera (deemed obsolete overnight) that I don't understand, and even my telephone seems to have come from another galaxy.

I've probably come this far this fast, due to a life lived at wrecking yards, dingy shops, wildcat race tracks, and a million miles of perilous back streets. Credibility still counts for something. I've been existing on cut-rate bachelor chow my whole life and spent a good deal of it living in my car. It's a life I wouldn't trade for anything. The only one I've ever known. My pay is scant and sporadic at best, but I'm eternally grateful to be paid anything to do what I love (Jim McCraw reminds us in Dave Wallace Jr.'s last editorial that writers make great "psychic pay"). Publishers seem to like my work and praise me for making deadlines - a juicy carrot on my stick, as daddy didn't love me (A penchant for turning negatives into positives comes in handy in this business). And finally, the best advice ever came from a (thankfully rare) negative review of the Show Rods book, written by "Midwest Consumer": "Sadly, this books also has a big overtone of the author's presence, which should be felt only in the detail, accuracy, and extent of topic coverage. Writing about famous people and topics doesn't raise you to their level as an author, nor is your personal opinion on the same level, journalism 101. Instead of detail there is a lot of wasted space dedicated to the author's flights of fancy for labeling, chapter titles and creating hipster structures to fill the book vs meaningful content." 

Mr. or Ms. Consumer is dead nuts on the money. Guilty as charged, on all counts. I know these basic tenets of journalism, but forgot them in the midst of the thrash. I'll be paying for this jangle for the rest of my life. Overbearing presence, opinions, and flights of fancy are fine for talk shows and blogs, but not the printed page someone paid admission to read.

So there's the past and present of it. Is there a future? You're looking at it, brothers and sisters. Binary codes will likely deliver the news until we all refine our psychic abilities to their potential. As for my personal literary future, I'm trying to envision it (as mentioned previously on this blog). Intuition suggests a more emotion-based approach to my writing, which may or may not remain strictly automotive. Time will tell and more will be revealed. After the zombie apocalypse, I'll be writing and drawing on cave walls until I vaporize. At that point, the chances for fame and fortune increase dramatically. My hope is that any posthumous bucks earned in my name find their way into the pockets of the people who have loved and supported me. Send the first check to Saint Shellski. Perhaps she, Motormouth Ray and CC will keep the blog on life support? Worst case scenario: The Von Dutch syndrome repeats itself. Just remember, Kenneth Howard hates you.

Foremost, I thank the readers of this blog for your gracious patience as I conduct dubious experiments with bastardizations of language and meter, in search of my voice. You are the grandest guinea pigs any laboratory could ever hope to host. This free range improvisation is a two-way street: We never know what to expect or where it's going to take us (if anywhere), but it's always an adventure that we experience together. I suspect I benefit from these proceedings more than you.

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 Street gangs just ain't what they used to be. Has the whole damn country gone soft?

SGE regulars are familiar with my photoshoot location fetish. An entire post was dedicated to this subject last spring. I recently visited some of my favorite spots here in the neighborhood to shoot backgrounds for an upcoming project. Besides providing a clean backdrop, these locations must be legit - no fakery is tolerated.

These back alley structures passed my litmus test. I found them fitting for the subject matter I had in mind.

An out take from the ensuing shoot. The "keepers" came out pretty cool. The day after this session, the graffiti was painted over!

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Thanks to the firestorm of publicity sparked by a recent brief mention of her on SGE, Motor Dolls author and all-around cyborg queen Lori Bentley Law is now scheduled as a featured guest on Motor Mouth Radio's October 20th show. Yes, the SGE bump is for real, and has now launched more careers than Ed Sullivan and Ted Mack, combined. Go to www.motormouthradio.com and/or stay tuned to SGE for confirmation of that dream date with Lori.

Motor Dolls came out last week and is already climbing Best Seller lists. Better get yours now! 


When not penning hot rod novels, Lori unwinds by thrashing on her F-1 truck, "Bondorella". She's getting an assist here from some fellow Gasoline Girls club members.



 Lori spends a lot of time on the road. So watch out for her when you crest that hill. (Photos courtesy of Lori Bentley Law)

             

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TOOLBOX OF THE WEEK:

When you've been at it as long as the Pacers team in New York, you don't need a forty foot trailer full of tools and machinery to maintain your race car. These days, the Pacers can fit most everything they need into a five gallon bucket. The AA/FA Model T held NHRA records in '63, '64, and '66. And they didn't carry many more tools than this while busting records. Experience makes the difference. (Photo courtesy of Motormouth Ray)


Tuesday, October 1, 2013

SGE INTERNATIONAL EDITION

                                          Can you see your garage from here? Google can.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO VIEW FULL SIZE

SGE international reporters check in hourly, every day. They cover every crook and nanny of the earth, sniffing out the hot skinny poop for you, the reader. How to thank them? Payment? There's currently no budget in the budget for that, but can you really place a monetary value on worldwide exposure? Exactly. It's priceless. And here at SGE, we honor exposure. So let's voyeur in on some hot spots and see what's cookin'...

Rookie SGE contributor CC (it's a code name) (it stands for Christopher Clark) volunteered for the Euro beat last week and returned with the following...

Here's your cub reporter working like a dog (lifting extremity to fence), just outside of Schwangau, Germany. CC was out Autobahnning in a 2014 VW Phaeton, when he paced a sinister '38 BMW Mille Miglia "Hitting up to 215 KPH, which equals out to around 130 MPH", and tailed it to this remote hideout in a seedy rural neighborhood. If you've ever watched "Justified" on TV, you know exactly what kind of situation we're talking about here - damn dangerous. Swelling with pride at his sleuthing, CC also shows confidence enhanced by the cache of fully automatic weaponry stashed on his person. Armed to the teeth and sporting a snappy bulletproof vest (and a wire) under the innocuous monogrammed jacket, he penetrated the perimeter for a closer look (Note multiple massive padlocks on gate at property's edge. With security this tight, entry would be no cakewalk).

Sure enough, seconds after positioning himself, CC witnessed the vintage Bimmer scampering into the garage. Smelling an SGE exclusive scoop ("I know a blown smallblock when I hear it"), he followed his nose to the front door, then was promptly whisked off the property by a half dozen surly security guards. Once out of sight, these misguided individuals attempted a physical assault on our man CC!  He tells it from there: "I only draw a weapon when absolutely necessary. That was not the case in this situation." Word to nefarious characters of the world: Don't underestimate Boy Scout training. That name again: C... CC.

Back at his secret headquarters deep within the bowels of urban Rothenburg (named for native son Ed "Big Daddy" Roth and wife Whoopie Goldburg), CC took the day off to play tourist (note convincing shopping bag prop - genius!) and unwittingly strolled straight into the biggest automotive story to hit Germany in a year! Upon exiting a Water Closet (that's European for "leaky little place"), CC overheard snippets of conversation at a sidewalk cafe. Two trenchcoated young men were hunched in whispered discussion - in Dutch, of course (Dutch is a completely different country, but many young Germans speak the language, because their parents can't understand it). You don't survive in the hot rod world as long as CC has without learning some tricks: He tipped the waiter to translate and discovered the Frankfurt Auto Show was opening, only a few kilometers away (Kilometers are German measuring devices, developed during WWII. One kilometer is approximately three feet in length, including handle. So, five hundred kilometers laid end-to-end equal one mile. This simple conversion becomes second nature after only a few hours in this region of Germany). CC refueled the Phaeton and set out for Frankfurt (erroneously credited as home of the Frankfurter, Germany's capitol city was in fact named for native son and race car driver/beach comber Frank Lockhart). Depth perception trick: CC appears tiny, compared to this photo caption.

Representing on the global stage, CC did the SGE nation proud. He played the media card and got in for free. Of the grand scope of the international show, CC opines, "The time and planning and work that goes into those display set-ups is incredible. I found myself more in awe of the display than the car." Okay CC, show us.

Ooh, he's right. Those mannequins are so life-like...


The new Batmobiles are out already?

The latest from Dipshitzu. Ten headlights!

The ultimate in American influence - a chrome car. Where do they get those mannequins? Amazing.


Unemployed German actors portray mannequins posed as photographers. Clever. But that backdrop won't fool today's sophisticated show-goers. It's obviously just painted on the wall, and doesn't even continue across the floor. The phone booth at left looks like a Futurama prop. Sorry CC, but these guys aren't even trying. Not impressed. (Photos by CC)

Disappointed with the large turnout of late models ("I didn't even see one Deuce - at a car show that big!"), CC swears he was on his way out anyway, when his phony SGE credentials were confiscated (Hey! That was my library card! - SG) and he was escorted to the sidewalk by security. A blessing in disguise, as he returned home a day early - just in time to celebrate his birthday with an autobahn-inspired blast around Portland in his hot rod VW Beetle.


Due to the aforementioned SGE budget crisis (thanks a lot, CC!), the remainder of our international features have been outsourced and downsized. These are actually teases from Wild About Cars' current No Limits online magazine, which is updated weekly. More at: wildaboutcarsonline.com/  When I say more, I mean it. You think this blog is windy? There's no limit to how much time you can lose in No Limits' vast content - a virtual black hole. You've been warned.

Formula 1 driver David Coulthard and Red Bull team manager Tony Burrows run amok through the streets of Havana in a '55 Pontiac. 

In an obvious attempt to upstage last week's SGE feature on the Hot Rod Hill Climb, promoters of the Prescott Speed Hill Climb in England's Gloucestershire countryside responded with smoke and noise. Note "Demon Drome Wall of Death" in background. You have our attention, gentlemen. 

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UPDATE:

A SPOT OF T

Old pal Gary Mathis insists on doing everything traditionally. From his house to his toys to the incredible custom bicycles he crafts, this guy is a total throwback. I love him for that (plus he's a fulltime funster). My favorite piece of Gary art is his early T roadster. It's been featured on this blog more than once, for good reason - it's an inspirational reminder of our history and priorities - and an absolute riot to ride around in. Luckily, I got to enjoy many a mile in Gary's hairblower, before it was ultimately transformed into money to finance the big move from southern Oregon to the bright lights of Portlandia. I miss the roadster - a lot. Gary's doing just fine with a comfy '46 tudor now, but I haven't quite forgiven him yet for betraying my love of the T by selling it.

Gary and the T as I remember them. Every mile is a thrill ride in a Winfield-bangered roadster... More proof of the squirrelization of planet Earth. (Scotty shots)

After a brief stint in Arizona, the T ended up at Brooks Cottage in England (whether permanent or just passin' through, I do not know). I know the new owner only as Rory, but the car seems to have the same effect on him as it did to anyone who's seen it - a classic Permagrin.

Fitting right in at a throwback gathering in Snetterton, which I assume to be in England. Just seeing it in these photos triggered a severe case of the grins. Glad it remains unchanged. Savor it, Rory! (Photos courtesy of Rory)

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YET ANOTHER UPDATE:

THE RECOVERY ROOM

In the mid-1980's I was barely squeaking by in a run down Omaha, Nebraska neighborhood. My daily driver was a slammed Nissan pickup. I befriended a fellow Nissan pilot who lived a couple blocks away. While my interest in the mini truck scene was casual (at the most), my younger neighbor was driven to obsession. We were both low income blue collar worker bees, expending ten times more labor than dollars on our trucks, but the neighbor kid worked endlessly on his. With no garage of my own, I mostly hung at his, where he taught himself upholstery to finance his habit. A year later, my rig remained unchanged, while his had become a nicely finished custom with a decidedly high-end street rod vibe. We still saw each other at car events, but ultimately drifted apart, as happens.

About ten years ago, I started seeing his work pop up in various magazines. Today, Tracy Weaver is upholsterer to the stars. His old Nissan seems a pretty humble beginning now. I remember teasing Tracy about his "Weaver" name being perfect for an upholstery shop, but he topped that when he dubbed his stitchery the Recovery Room.

Tracy and the Recovery Room are still in the Omaha area. We both traded hair and waistlines for chops over the years, and ended up living lives beyond our naive dreams, albeit 2,000 miles apart. This shop is light years from the dark one-car garage in north Omaha.

A recent collaboration with the Mittler Brothers.


Test driving a customer's Edsel.

This tasty Deuce roadster has replaced Tracy's old Nissan. Though cargo capacity has diminished somewhat, I still consider this an upgrade. (Photos courtesy of Recovery Room)

Congratulations, my friend. Savor your success with some rose sniffing, okay? "Steady as she goes", and all that.

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On the subject of interior decorating, East Coast correspondent Motormouth Ray was baffled by a current technology mashup trend and snapped a photo for you to ponder.

ipod docks are appearing in many recent builds by the younger set. I can understand Ray's puzzlement at digital technology snaking out of a vintage dash. But it makes sense, considering these builders grew up with electrons and refuse to leave home without them. Like street rodders, insisting on A/C. I get that. In fact, while cross country road tripping with Bob Klessig in his very traditional appearing '51 Chevy custom, I saw more electronic gear in his interior than in most air traffic control towers. When you really drive your car, aesthetics take a back seat, so to speak. Discuss: Right, wrong, or inevitable? (Photo by Motormouth Ray)


FINAL UPDATE (I PROMISE):

PHOTOJOURNALIST GLORY

From award winning book author (well, my girlfriend says I'm her favorite automotive writer) to over-the-road gear grinder, in the time it takes to downshift from 4th to 2nd. We do what we gotta do. And today's aspiring writers must be willing do it all. For me, that means spending my Fridays literally delivering the goods - those Auto Trader-type advertising thingies - to the car hungry citizens of southern Oregon. My landlord thinks it's the least I can do. Publishers staring at their watches and tapping their toes on deadline day can't comprehend why I would consider such a thing. Maybe they've never spent a winter living in a Honda. The rent must get paid.

My first "selfie"! They say you never forget your first and now I know why. Just loaded my lunch pail into the car and am prepared for launch. Note actual collar on shirt. Maintaining a professional appearance is paramount when doing business in the public eye. Next week: Shower and a shave.

My job is to replace the previous week's issues with fresh meat. The obsolete issues ride around with me until I find a recycling bin. Fascinating, huh? But I'm also getting paid to discover hidden vintage tin and interesting photoshoot locations.

While mostly urban, parts of my delivery route are rural. That's where I found this rogue gang of hitch hikers. They didn't say much - just pointed toward town, so that's where I took them. They were a tight fit in the Honda with all of those magazines, but nobody complained. They must have just been grateful to get off their feet for a while.

Wrapping up the day at the recycling bin. Cycle complete. Then it's back to the bunker for more word juggling. And a new hat. (Scotty shots)

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A special celebratory welcome to our 30th SGE member, Modo B!!! Such a milestone is unfathomable to me - thirty people actually read this stuff?! That's doubtful. For all I know, all 30 members could be the same person. But I'm giving Modo B the benefit of the doubt. Congrats on becoming our landmark 30th! Since this number will likely never be topped, I'm going all out on Modo B's membership gifts: Beside the standard secret handshake, custom tailored polyester jacket, and bottle opener, Modo B will also receive a turnkey one-off  NOS steel '32 Ford of his or her choice (3 or 5-window coupe, roadster, cabriolet, phaeton, closed pickup, roadster pickup, or B-400), custom-built-to-order by Steve's Auto Restorations in Portland, Oregon! Modo B will be responsible for tax and licensing costs, shipping costs, insurance costs, miscellaneous costs, and the miscellaneous cost taxes, but will otherwise not pay a single dime for this dream-come-true prize! Can you believe it? I know - me neither! This giveaway is something I've been working on for a long time, and now that it's finally happening - Oh God, I know how it feels to be Oprah! I think I'm getting the vapors... I'm already looking forward to seeing the finished product - and hopefully, a ride around the block!

    Artist rendering of Modo B, thrilled beyond facial features to accept the biggest SGE giveaway prize ever! (Rendering by Artist)

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The Squirrel of the Week feature has been discontinued indefinitely (the squirrels have apparently unionized). SGE apologizes for any inconvenience. We hope you'll enjoy our new feature, Toolbox of the Week!

This little guy was discovered sitting next to a dumpster behind a Wal Mart, in the rain, about six years ago (Hey, I wrote that for the squirrel shot, but it works here, too!). When no one claimed it after 48 hours, it was mine. The latch/lock assembly was ripped from the circa 1990 Craftsman 4-drawer, but it was otherwise sound. It served as my race box for a couple seasons, then was demoted to a desk job. It's now parked beside the computer, standing by for action. (Scotty shot)

This blog post written 1 1/2 hours before a book deadline, a magazine feature story deadline, and a magazine tech article deadline. SGE and its affiliates not responsible for factual errors. The SGE blog is produced for entertainment purposes only and should not be used as a reliable source of information.