Temporary Hotrod

The big block project is on hold. I'm still waiting for my stimulus check from Obama. He may be a little pissed because I voted for McCain, however with out that check (or a job), no big block. I'll just be content with the six banger...





Well, I told myself that anyway. The old stovebolt was a good engine, it was just so slow. And quiet. Slow and quiet just don't do it for me. This little small block should be able to fill the neighborhood full of tire smoke. And the M21 four speed will be a lot more fun than the three on the tree.
John

The ones who didn't come home

We have all heard the story about the old lady who had an old car tucked away in the barn or garage. Under an old tarp and covered with dust and boxes, it is discovered by a friend of a friend who just happened to be passing by. Or the add in the paper for a '66 Chevrolet... $600.00. It always turns out to be a vette, or other highly desirable muscle car, and the old lady has no idea of the actual value of the vehicle. "It's pretty old, and it hasn't been started in years",she says, "but it was running when he parked it in there" It belonged to her son who never came home from the war.

This story is not about the car. Most of you knew that already. This story is about her son and all of the sons, and brothers, and fathers who didn't come home. Dreams parked under an old tarp by a young car guy who had another job to do first.

This weekend, we remember them. The ones who didn't come home, and all the young men and women who have served their country, and the ones who serve today. If you are at a show and hear "the story", remember, one of the cars you are admiring, may have belonged to a car guy who didn't come home.

John

Stealing Danny's hubcaps

We liked Danny. Everyone liked Danny because he was cool. He was older than us and had a car so he was real cool. He had a temper sometimes, and you could see it every time we stole his hubcaps. He had four bar flipper caps, kind of like the ones on Randy's car in the picture. I don't remember his car real well, but then I never had his car in my wall locker.

We never kept his caps very long. Just long enough for him to quit yelling about what he was going to do SOB's that stole his caps when he caught them. We never said anything, we would just put them back in his car when he wasn't around. One time we put them back on, but we put rocks under them. When I finally got a car my senior year, I didn't put hubcaps on it. Flippers were cool, but there were a lot of SOB's in that school.

Danny is gone now. He had a heart attack and died way too young. I hope it wasn't stress from high school. I miss you Danny,and if you're reading this, the rocks were Jim's idea.

John

The wreck of a porn star

Maybe I should explain. I'm not bragging, and it really wasn't much of a wreck. My brother started calling the Eldorado the "32 valve porn star" when I put the wheels on it and the name stuck. I don't even know any porn stars, all tho my second wife may have made career choices that I was not aware of at the time.

The wreck. Like I said, it really wasn't much of a wreck. I was stopped at a light when an old man in a one ton Ford pick-up failed to stop. He had at least a half of a mile of unobstructed dry pavement in broad daylight to get stopped, but apparently he required more than that. He was quite apologetic, and noted "that's a really nice car" I said "Crap, you should have seen it before you got here"

It is in the shop now getting fixed. I have been trying to sell it, and if he had hit it a little harder, I would now have a little red Corvette sitting in the garage. Maybe next time... Drive safe.

John

Garage tour

Every year the VALLEY CRUZERS hosts a garage tour and this year my shop was included. We had a good turnout. There were hot rods, street rods, and classics everywhere. Good people and hot rodders. (in my experience, usually the same thing) No better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

I am humbled frequently by the skills and knowledge some of these people have. As I show someone a car I bought, I am shown a car they built. A quiet man who lives around the corner from me does it all. Motors, paint, chassis and interiors. No bragging, just building. I can learn a lot from this man. My friend from Brownsville who built his '56 Chevy himself and can fix anything. People who were building and racing hot rods long before I bent my first push-rod. (moms station wagon) This hobby is as much, if not more, about the people as it is the cars. Thanks for coming folks. Thanks for including me...

John

Crusin' for chicks...

Friday night, 1964. As usual we were downtown showin' off, street racin', and crusin' for chicks. This is a true story. I have only changed the name because I'm not sure how to spell Sterling Keminskie. This is the true American Graffiti, Eugene Oregon edition.

Every weekend was about the same. Run up and down the streets wastin' gas, chirpin' tires, and looking for girls that would like to jump in the car with a couple guys that just put their last two dollars in the gas tank. Girls like that were quite rare in Eugene. If Keminskie was here he could vouch for that. We never got lucky, except for that one night. Two unattended young ladies accepted our invitation to go for a ride. I'm going to skip the middle part of the story, from the pick up until we ended up parked at the rose garden because it really isn't very interesting, and get right to the good part.

The girls. One young lady was quite attractive, and sense it was my car and I was a year older than Keminskie, I got the cute chick. Sterling got the other one that could best be described as large. Quite large if I remember correctly. Things were starting to get interesting in the front seat when my new lady friend pointed out that nothing was happening in the back seat. She was reluctant to continue with our mutual exploration if we were the only ones fogging up the windows. I excused myself for a bathroom break and Sterling was eager to join me. I explained the situation to him and told him that with his cooperation, this could be my lucky night. Just talk to her if nothing else. "About what?" he said. Damn it Sterling! Just think of something!

We returned to the car and soon things were starting to cook in the front seat again, and then again my now eager partner noticed nothing happening in the back seat. I glared at Sterling over the seat and mouthed the word TALK! I was about to resume my exploration yet again when we heard Sterling ask, "Do you have much trouble with that wart on your lip?"

My memory is a little fuzzy after that. Sterling could finish the story better than I. He was a lot closer to the action. We dropped the girls off back downtown where we found them and went home. We were about out of gas anyway

John

Busted

Sometimes the simplest task turns into a project. Replacing worn studs in an exhaust manifold sounded simple. A little penetrating oil, a little heat, a little twist with the vice grips, a little SNAP. Crap! (similar to the word I used) Well, now I will have to drill and tap the hole. Not a big deal. I have all the stuff... First the pilot hole. SNAP! CRAP! Now I have a pilot bit busted off in the pilot hole! ( pilot error?) Have you ever tried to drill a drill bit with a drill bit?

After giving the matter some thought, I decided to try heating the manifold/stud/broken bit until it was cherry red and letting it cool slowly. It worked great! The now annealed pilot bit drilled out almost like the soft steel it was buried in. Life is good at Easy Street Rods.

John