WRITERS BLOCK PARTY!

When inspiration hits, nothing can stop the creative process. When inspiration withers, nothing can start the creative process.

Staring down multiple deadlines has taken a toll lately. I'm toast. At vulnerable moments like this, writing somehow morphs from a gift to a chore. Luckily, I love irony: The stories gone comatose before me are exactly the kind I love to tell - ripe and juicy. Alas, they just lay there, giving me the fish eye. Sure, I work on them, for hours and hours. Still, they lay dormant, sprawled out across my monitor, silently begging me to pick them up, shake them awake, and give them direction and purpose - a waste of elusive time, so far, with one false start after another. Another process that must play itself out.

This is new to me. A first. But I believe we only grow when we're off balance - out of our comfort zones. When we cling to comfort, we become stagnant - a deadly condition. So I should be celebrating this growth opportunity. I know I will, soon enough. At this moment, I don't have to like it, I just have to walk through it: Accept it, find my role in it, learn from it, and move on. And so I trudge.

Unfortunately, this process has left scant time to construct a lucid blog. So this week, I'm concocting a word salad of leftovers, topped with bits of found data. Not every post can be a delicious feast. Actually, I didn't make any of this from scratch - Motormouth Ray contributed nearly all of the content on this post, and I'm just relaying it to you. Thanks, Ray! And thank you, SGE reader, for pressing on regardless. I hope you find some message in here that serves you. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to work and open myself to the spark that awaits me, somewhere out there in the cosmic alphabet soup.


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THE FALL OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA:

Coast to coast, the clink of racetrack gates closing for winter announces the arrival of fall. The news echoes through every time zone of every latitude. Ramshackle one-car garages and corporate-funded monoliths alike begin vibrating with anticipation - the opening day of fabrication season is just around the corner! In between race season and fab season lies a sliver of time I call "The Downshift". Less than a week of days, where we recharge our internal batteries, breathe deeply, and contemplate past and future, while savoring the present.

SGE received two Downshift reports this week, from opposite ends of the 45th parallel. They illustrate the similarities shared by everyone in between. HAPPY DOWNSHIFT TO ONE AND ALL!!!

Motormouth Ray played hooky on Monday, kidnapped his family, and hightailed it to the Barton Orchard in upstate New York: "How could it NOT be a great day, when you're spending time with your family, out in the country? The nicest part for me is that my kids are 23 and 16, and still want to spend time with their parents! I'll take that with a side of slaw, any day. These apples agreed to pose for me since I swore not to make cider out of them."

"A 210 year-old oak tree on the orchard site."

An appropriate soundtrack is crucial for a successful visit to the hills, and Ray struck gold: "This bluegrass band is called Oxford Depot and they were great! I told them all about you, Scotty. You're gonna hear more about them, soon..." Thanks, Ray.

"The dining room of The Daily Planet, where we ate lunch. One of my favorite haunts when I go upstate."

"How could I not shoot an overpass called the Goat Walk?"

Speaking of Goats, shortly before leaving for the country, Ray had spotted this '67 GTO fixer-upper on Craigslist. An omen. All the signs seem to portend GTO sparks in Ray's immediate future. (Photos by Motormouth Ray)



A very similar scene was playing out simultaneously, about 3,000 miles west. CC dragged the family to a pumpkin patch outside of Portland, Oregon where they were all consumed by the Downshift spirit.

He's back! Secret Agent CC survived an out-of-control German Octoberfest (among other Euroadventures) to return to wife Sia and daughter Celina at Olsen Farms. Welcome home, cub reporter!

God only knows where Celina wandered off to while CC courted a coy Sia in the pumpkin patch. Someone call Child Protective Services!

Fearing a social worker visit, the neglectful parents hid out in this handy corn field until the coast was clear. Celina was discovered pedaling her tricycle down Hwy 30 at a high rate of speed, but was unharmed. Sia went CC's bail and the idyllic fall day went unblemished. A Downshift miracle! (Photos by Julie Cha)




EBAY RAY AND JESSE JAMES PRESENT:

YOUR NEW CAR!!!

Motormouth Ray cruises eBay occasionally and spotted this dandy Mopar street race special last week. Owner Jesse James was asking $7,000 for this '69 Roadrunner, purportedly campaigned previously by an outlaw biker gang. 10 second times were claimed. A "built" 440 supposedly "was running about a year ago" and was once backed by a 727 Torqueflight trans, which now "is gone". Still, in this day and age, it's probably a good price for a celebrity-owned car. Jesse lists the rear suspension as a "4-bar", but it's actually a ladder bar set-up, with panhard bar and coilovers. There's a full 'cage (that has been hacked on a lot over the years) and 2" X 4" rear subframe, supporting a Dana 60 (no gear ratio given). Fiberglass doors, fenders and hood are installed and gennie originals come in the deal. Rolling stock is referred to as "OG Centerlines", but only the fronts are legit Centerlines, while rears appear to be copies. All in all, a cool example of Mother Mopar's approach to street supremacy. Perfect for my skewered tastes. Your mileage may vary. Thanks for the heads-up, Ray!

Looks pretty mean, just sitting in front of the shop. In my eyes, the color mismatch of the 'glass parts actually adds to the attitude.

When's the last time you saw a non Stock-class Mopar big block sporting a Q-jet on an iron manifold? More street cred. I helped my pal Hippy Mike run low 12's with a nearly identical RR for a while. Won the track championship one year.

This could be the interior of any car I've ever owned. Other than the H-D floor mats (C'mon, Jesse), there's no cute stuff here. Just the facts, Maam.

The brightest red flag here is the cobbled fuel pump mount. But hey, we all have some skeletons in our closets. (Photos courtesy of eBay)

Bottom line: Hit the wrecking yard for a Torqueflight, cruise the swap meet for a converter, carb and manifold, and you're set to give the rearview mirror a workout, scanning for cops. Buy the car, make those changes, and get back to us with some ET slips: Instant glory!


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RAY SPINS OUT:

We never know what's going to animate some long repressed emotion. No matter how tight the lid is screwed down, it can only contain the pressure for so long - then, one day - Ka Blooey! It happened to Motormouth Ray, just recently. He was strolling through a car show, minding his own business, not hurting anyone - when suddenly, without warning...

" I was digging this salty roadster. The tri-power drew me in..."

"Here's a really well built Chevy with no expense spared, where the body, paint and interior are concerned..." (I'm impressed with the integration of the Merc grille - SG)

"... but the poseur who owns it is trying to skimp out on the roots of hot roddery with a tri-power set-up that's really only a single two barrel (nicely bent fuel lines though)!"

"Add to that, the old trick we've all used at one time or another of stacking up washers to act as a spacer (in this case, for his fan shroud mount) and I have to wonder if all that custom leather and color left him too broke to buy or have a real spacer made from aluminum (or he could've just built a custom shroud that actually fits - SG). Or maybe it was the chrome button-head Allen screws he paid way too much for? I know the answer to that one: Since he most likely had the car built, he probably doesn't even know the washers are there in the first place! I deemed this car the farce of the show. I personally find cars that are built to such a high degree of finish, then have faux speed parts bolted to them just to look cool, an abomination and insult to every greasy kid and man alike who ever slung a wrench! Wow! That felt good! I'll take every bullet that flies my way on this. Unless one catches me in the side by surprise, like poor Walter White." (Photos courtesy of Motormouth Ray)

Thank you, Ray. This illustration of how little it takes to set off an otherwise peaceful and reasonable person has been quite enlightening. Perhaps car shows should employ metal detectors at the gate - you know, just in case...



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UPDATE:

LORI BENTLEY LAW

Motor Mouth Radio has confirmed Sunday, October 20th as the date of Motor Doll Lori Bentley Law's live interview. Tune in to www.motormouthradio.com at Noon (EST) for insight into what makes this unsung hot rod hero tick (Spoiler: It's more serious than a sloppy valvetrain adjustment). Lori's star has been steadily rising among the underground, but her true persona has remained a mystery - until now. Mark this on your calendar, then write yourself a note to actually look at your calendar. Motormouth Ray and I have been presenting Producer Chris Switzer with a case for hailing women in hot rodding/motorsports. Circumstances are looking good now for a future slate of dynamic estrogen-powered wrench twirlers with amazing stories to tell. Isn't this what communications systems were intended for in the first place? It's about time.

This gal isn't some scenester, seeking shallow glory. She's an action figure who makes good things happen to ferrous metals. There's been much speculation regarding what's under the helmet. We're about to find out.

A bona fide literary scholar, Lori is a serious collector of the classics.

No stranger to the Mohave floor...

... nor the Saturday night dancehall floor, Lori and her faithful F-1 Bondorella seem to constantly be in the eye of the action, while somehow holding a low profile.

But it's what's under the hood that counts. Lori and Bondorella deliver the goods. (Photos courtesy of Lori Bentley Law)




UPDATE:

BILLY LYNCH

Previously on SGE, we presented a peek at Billy Lynch's old AA/FD entry and Pat Foster's incredible recreation of it. Upon further review, Motormouth Ray has come across yet another image of the car. This is pretty special.

"Billy told me that Pete Millar had drawn his car on the cover of his Drag Cartoons magazine back in July of '64, and that after Pete's death, his  family was selling reprints of the original art to offset funeral costs. Of course, I bought one (and had Billy autograph it). This is it. Pretty damn cool, if I do say so myself." Agreed, Ray. And a rare peek back at the long defunct Island Dragway, where so much history was made in New York. Long live Pete Millar (wife Orah Mae and daughter Robin, too) and Island Dragway!

Billy Lynch fans will be happy to know that at least one piece of the original car remains. While scrounging through his attic, Ray also discovered a piston and rod assembly nicked in the explosion that caused the crash that caused the demise of Lynch's dual purpose (nitro and gas class) dragster, with Jack Ostrander at the butterfly in 1990. (Photos courtesy of Motormouth Ray)



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UPDATE:

BOB LIDELL

This is Bob Lidell, finally enjoying some time with his GTO at Champion Raceway in Medford, Oregon. He waited a long time for this moment. Bob earned it with a long year of hard work and a pocketful of good Karma. (Photo courtesy of Dennis Vollmar)

There's more to Bob's Goat than just the driver's window. Here's the whole car, jumping for joy at historical Redding Drag Strip, with Bob at the reins. I believe he got it into the sevens more than once. (Photo courtesy of Redding Drag Strip)

I've never worked for any boss as straight forward, direct, and just plain honest as Bob Lidell. He brought me in to announce a couple of the events he put on at Champion Raceway during his tenure as Track Manager. We were both too busy to really get to know each other. But his genuine concern for the welfare of the entire Champion crew was obvious. Bob knew we'd all do a better job if we clearly understood our roles and his expectations. And he ensured that we had dependable tools and skills to handle any surprises (well, except for Champion's infamous computer system, "Old Faithful", which still surprises, hourly).

Most amazing was that Bob simultaneously managed Champion Raceway and Redding Drag Strip (and oh yeah, he also had a family and owned a swimming pool business). He'd bounce back and forth between Redding and Medford at least once a week, knowing that if he didn't put those miles on, Champion would have to close. For that alone, Bob will forever have the respect and admiration of the southern Oregon racing community. But everyone who ever met him respects and admires him for more than that. Our unique little track has had a lot of managers over the last thirty-plus years, but all agree that this guy was special.

That's right - the above was written in past tense. Bob Lidell passed away in his sleep last week in Redding. My heart goes out to his family and others who were close to him. I'm just happy that he finally got to put some laps on his beloved Pontiac before he had to go. And that he showed me what a real straight shooter looks like in action. Bob Lidell inspired me to try a little harder at that. Thanks, Bob.




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TOOLBOX OF THE WEEK:

First, a tip of the helmet to fans of our old Squirrel of the Week feature. Please join us in observing this salute...

Thank you. And now, on with the show! (Image courtesy of Motormouth Ray)

We have a triple feature for you this week!

Top: Motormouth Ray's bench box offers an inviting "lived-in" presentation, as does his entire garage.

Middle: More honest patina on this vintage cabinet under the bench. Cool decals earn bonus points and the cabinet door boasts some excellent examples. More bonus points for the clean layout, enhanced with understated pinstriping.

Bottom: Tell 'em, Ray: "When I helped him move a few years ago, Billy Lynch gave me some side panels off one of the Top Fuel rails he campaigned in the early '90s. He told me to never throw them away, because they're made of magnesium and I should look to sell them for their scrap value. I have one in the garage and one in the basement, plus some blanks stashed away for use if I ever build a rail!" (For the record, race car parts earn double bonus points - SG) (Photos courtesy of Motormouth Ray)

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)