Good Friends & Memories Can Sometimes Be Hard To Come By These Days

    I can remember being a kid in northern suburban New Jersey in the late 60's. I had a good friend and neighbor named Kevin, who, like me, was also really into fast cars. That's what we called them anyways, as the term "muscle car" wasn't very common. Magazines mostly called them super cars. Ford used the term "muscle" occasionally in their advertising, but at the tender age of eight, we were just starting to read magazines like Car Craft, Popular Hot Rodding, and Hot Rod. The magazine of choice usually contained the coolest pictures or the prettiest women. Hey - what do you expect? We were eight!

   Anyways, we used to sit on a stone wall at the end of our street and watch cars go by. We thought it was a cool way to pass the time, especially when one of our Moms told us to go and outside burn off some energy. Back then, you could easily tell the difference between a domestic vehicle and an import without even batting an eyelash. Our families were living proof of that. Kevin's family had a 1968 Ford Torino GT complete with a 390 engine. My dad was Mr. Counter Culture and drove a VW Beetle. My other neighbor, to his credit, had a 1967 Camaro SS with a transplanted 396 big block in addition to a 1966 Plymouth drag car. Even when it solely came to identifying domestic models, one could tell the difference between a GM, Chrysler Corporation, or Ford-Lincoln-Mercury model. Even the differences between the model years gave you obvious clues, at least until the early 70's. By the mid 90's, every vehicle was so homogenized, you couldn't tell what was what. At least today, some auto manufacturers are attempting to put distinctive body lines back into the design mix. 

   If Kevin and I partook in this car watching ritual, which was always more common in the summer, we usually had a bottle of 7-up in our hands that were in those funky green bottles. And those bottles were glass, not plastic - with metal twist off caps that sometimes turned your hands red from trying to remove them with a piece of cork on the underside. Unfortunately, I lost track of Keven after we moved away in 1974. I don't know if he's even still alive. I hope so. I do know that his Mom & Dad traded in that "gas guzzling" Torino in late 1973 for a new Mustang II with a 4-banger under the hood. In less than 4 months, they had buyers remorse. Who knows if the Torino is still in existence. 

   Kevin was a great guy, even if our relationship fizzled. We always had a blast watching the cars go by. A good number of people waved without even being prompted and no creepers trying to kidnap us ever bothered us or came into the picture. More than a few hot rodders would nail the gas for us as they went by so we could groove on the sound of the often modified engines. As kids, I don't think problems even entered our minds - ditto with the worlds circumstances. The Vietnam war was ranging and it was on the tube a lot and not just on the evening news. My way older cousins had friends who were drafted right out of high school and a few didn't come back. My neighbors with the Camaro and Plymouth were in their late 40's and they lost their son to that unwinnable conflict. They both sort of adopted me as I used to drool over their vehicles. She made the best chocolate chip cookies and he was the first to teach me about cars. I owe so much to both of them, even though they have both passed on.

  

Fast forward to junior high school and my freshman year of high school. I had another good friend named Carl who had this sign that used to sit on one of his stereo speakers that said "Think". I lost track of him as well after 9th grade, but caught up with him in my early 20's in Massachusetts as he worked at an automotive garage where I just happened to take my vehicle for some exhaust repair. He just finished building a 1968 Dodge Dart drag car with a viscous 440 cubic inch engine. He fired it up for me and it sounded savage with the open headers. I found it a tad ironic, but maybe not, that he had a plaque on the dash of that Dart that said "Think". Both the engine idling as well as the plaque were pleasant reminders of younger days. I kept in touch with Carl over the years, but he's drifted away a bit, especially now that he's no longer on Facebook. Hasn't been on it for about 8 years. He said he just got sick of all the bullshit - especially the politics. I can remember when the exhaust work on my car was finished and the bill was paid, that I tanked him for starting up the Dart. It made my day. I hope my appreciation of that rig, despite it's lower budget build, made his day too. 

   Jumping to 2024 when I purchased my latest street rod. After paying the former owner and affixing the transit plate on the back, I drove the Plymouth home - over 100 miles. It was an absolute trouble free ride and a blast to drive. On the way home, I passed numerous vintage vehicles and we both waved as we passed - similar to motorcyclists do. It's like a fraternity of sorts, even though you don't know the brothers. But then again, aren't we all brothers and sisters under the skin?

Until next time, peace out

5 Years, 7 Months, and 3 Weeks... Well, Almost

    It's been that long since the last Full Throttle blog post. I could fill this entry with cliche's like, "Where has the time gone?" or I could put down a litany of excuses as to why I haven't been writing, but here goes a feeble attempt anyways. I know where the time went - it passed me by like it always does. It didn't speed up like we think it does as we get older and I didn't experience any sand slipping through my fingers. 

   What has happened, however, since October 2018, was my wife and I purchased a house, which needed a little renovation. The automotive garage where I worked got busier and work consumed more of my available hours. Shortly after purchasing the house, my then son-in-law unexpectedly passed away. Moving forward after that, came Covid, which of course turned everything upside down, I had a substantial heart attack in the fall of 2020, and even more working hours at the garage going into 2021. Last but not least, was dealing with the passing of both my parents within an 18-month period, and then wrapping things up with being diagnosed with cancer this spring.

   Despite all this, the vintage automotive aspects of my life have not all been forgotten or lost. A few years back, I had the chance to purchase a 1953 Olds 88 street rod that went down as one of most dependable vehicles I've ever owned - regardless of age or how it looked with its beautiful surface rust and patina. However, a very cool fellow street rodder who was vacationing in our neck of the woods here in Maine saw it and offered me a price I couldn't refuse. He wanted the car to be a grandfather / grandson project and really take things to a higher level. Easy come, easy go. 

   Just recently, before my cancer diagnosis, I purchased a 1939 Plymouth Road King street rod. While there's a great deal of Chevy throughout the ride, (ranging from the drive-train, dash layout, and even the paint color), one has to remember, that it is indeed a street rod. It's going to be a melting pot of aspects regardless of our opinions. The way I see things, I dig it. I really do. If this was your ride, I would still dig it. And in the end, that's all that matters. It was restored / modified by a professional street rod builder that has been doing this type of work for over 40 years. While it's not perfect, or even what I would call true show quality, it's extremely presentable and an incredible driver. And I purchased it that way - even more opinions be damned. I've gotten to the age, at least in my noggin, that I no longer have the time nor the wherewithal to do massive amounts of paint, body work, or rebuild yet another engine even with the huge 2-bay garage that's part of the house we purchased. Been there, done that. This time around, I wanted a turn key hot rod. And even with the cancer diagnosis and upcoming chemotherapy treatments, I have zero plans to sell it and still drive it as often as possible. 

   While I've numerous people tell me I ought to sell my street rod as well as my fairly large collection of vintage drag racing and automotive memorabilia, because it would bring in a shit-ton of money, I will admit there is something, at minimum, very therapeutic, and at times, quite healing about driving my street rod and engaging in said vintage stuff. Some people may call these things impractical or dust collectors. But are they? Are they truly impractical if you receive some type of connection and joy from engaging with them? In my opinion, after all these decades and different hot rods and muscle cars, I find one of the most soothing things for my soul is the rumble of a high performance exhaust, the roar of the engine when the camshaft and related engine components are reaching their sweet spot at 5,000 rpm, or just taking in the scenery on a warm evening with the windows rolled down cruising at 50 mph. I also get a warm fuzzy when browsing, yet again, through my NHRA souvenir programs, or through an issue from the 60's of Car Craft, Popular Hot Rodding, Speed and Supercar or Super Stock & Drag Illustrated. The same thing happens when I look over, for the umpteenth time, my Hot Wheels collection that I've amassed since I was five starting back in 1967. Okay, we can't take our stuff with us, but money is not everything. 

 
   One thing I'm going to make a valid attempt at over the next 6 months, if not longer, is to sit down and do more writing and photography. With my chemo treatments starting in less than 2 weeks, I'm taking a bit of a vacation. I've taken a leave of absence from my full time job as I was coming home exhausted after only 8 hours. On numerous occasions, I would take an hour nap after work just to recharge my batteries a little bit. As of this juncture, my job will be there for me when I return; and that's if I return. Nothing is guaranteed, my friends. I've had one or two people kinda freak out me that I'm not working currently, and I know they're intentions are good, but again, work is far from everything and not my life's worth. I'm finding that I'm more drawn to writing, photographing, and dealing with vintage cars as well as vintage car people than ever. Y'all are a very cool breed - always have been. 

Until next time, peace out.

  

Why Is 1,320 Feet So Fascinating

I was updating the Vintage V8 Photography website on Friday where I stated that the car show / drag racing season here in northern New England is drawing to a close. Columbus Day weekend is always a busy time, vintage vehicle wise, here in my neck of the woods. It's almost like the last weekend before Christmas and you gotta get all this stuff done before it's too late. I took Friday off from my regular job to take all this go-fast goodness in stride. So far, it's been three car shows as well as an end-of-the-season drag racing bash. The weather has been absolutely spectacular, and just a tad cool, which was a huge plus especially when it comes to quarter (or eighth) mile action. As I look back over the past 50 years, what is it about drag racing that still holds so much appeal? Even if it's just for myself? How 'bout you? You feel the same way?

I can vividly remember watching NHRA and AHRA sanctioned action on TV back in the late 60's. I preferred the AHRA coverage, even though it was less commonly covered on the tube, because the AHRA was a more flexible and liberal organization especially when it came to A/FX, Gassers, and other crazy shit that was coming down the pike. At that time, it was the closest I could get to the track and it would remain that way until I was in high school when I attended my first event at New England Dragway in Epping New Hampshire in the late 70's. Fortunately, there was still a mix of old and new back then. However, through the years, the nostalgia aspect was never really thought about until two events happened; 1). Older racers located in the mid-western United States started racing their vintage vehicles again and 2). 1960's muscle cars reached their first wave zenith in popularity (and price) the very late 80's. Even with this resurgence, vintage quarter mile cars were divided into two groups - the group that raced their cars, dollar value be damned, or the group that owned rare vintage race cars, but rarely exercised them due to their monetary value. It was only occasionally at national events, that these trailer queen vintage super stock, Gasser, A/FX, and funny cars would, for a brief moment, fill everyone's collective memories with the smell of nitro, racing fuel, and burnt rubber, along with the beautiful sound of open headers.

It wasn't until the turn of the century when the old car hobby was truly diversifying, with genre's like rat rods, radical street cars, and barn finds, that nostalgia racing finally came back into it's own. Don't get me wrong - I'm not knocking the current NHRA racing, although I must admit it has to get it's act in gear if it's going to survive. Television coverage is down, as is event attendance,. but that's another kettle of fish I'm not going to cook. However, events like The Race Of Gentlemen, Goodguys, and other local and regional events too numerous to mention, have attracted a great deal of ink due to their uncomplicated racing template, rules, as well as making the entire event family friendly.

Whatever the event, big or small, for me, it's still the memories burned into my brain from when I was young. The sights, sounds, and action; it still hasn't changed a bit. Did you also realize that drag racing is the only sport where you have just one shot at winning, usually within just a couple of seconds? There are no halves, periods, quarters, innings, rounds, frames, sets, or multiple laps. It's just two vehicles; one will win, the other will not and thus gets eliminated. The winner gets to race again. No mulligans, no do-overs, no restarts, no relief drivers. You'd better be on your A-game or you're done. Intense, but oh so cool.

Until next time, long live nostalgia.
Dave

Changes

Something happened over the summer - I had my hand in all of it, except for the too-fast passage of time. I can't believe in just over 2 weeks it will be officially autumn and the car show / racing season will draw to a close. I've had some faithful followers email me from time to time asking why the blog posts have been less frequent. I must now admit - mostly to myself - that publishing a blog post once a month is about as good as it's going to get at this juncture. Between my full time job, my photography (which exploded in volume this summer), as well as other tugs on my schedule, I just can't find the time to sit in front of the laptop like I used to. As time and my trips around the sun go forward, I'll have more time to write, but that won't be for a number of years. I'll probably write between 10-14 blog posts a year - and I'm okay with that. I hope you are too.

One aspect of my life that has truly revealed itself in the past 10 years is my photography. If you told me back in 2005 that I'd be writing a bunch of malarkey, cleverly disguised as blog posts, magazine articles, and other online diatribes, in addition to taking, displaying, and selling photographs less than a decade from that date, I would've laughed at you. But life is like that... and that's okay. One of my most popular and controversial photographs came about by accident via a sculptor who deals with metal, welding and rust. For a brief time, he had on display at the entrance to his property and studio, an old rusty and gutted early 50's Ford truck that had a red, white, and blue enamel paint job. He was gracious enough to let me photograph it and for payment of his time and generosity, he has three of my prints - one of this truck as well as two other trucks on his property.

The photograph is popular because it's of an old American truck with some resemblance of mag wheels. One can almost vision an old hot rod or drag truck that is now decaying into the Earth. Other people have seen it as a symbol of our American culture, how it's deteriorating, and the fact that we are no longer the greatest country in the world statistically. As far as other aspects, the rest is up for debate which I'm not getting into here. When I first photographed this truck, I thought it was a vintage piece of pure cool. Now that others have voiced their opinion and in a few cases outrage, I can also see the other side of the coin. The outrage problem however, is still their problem.

The same can be said for the diverse styles of vehicles I saw and photographed over the summer. I saw everything from beautifully rusted 1934 Ford roadsters that were active race cars back in the 1950's and still are today. One even competes in The Race Of Gentlemen every year down in Wildwood New Jersey. Others included a stunning '55 Chevy that had been modified within an inch of it's life into a circle track car, but still kept it's original sheet metal flanks, as well as a nasty twin-turbo 1967 Olds 442 street / strip car, with the emphasis on strip. Those two vehicles received quite a bit of admiration, but also pissed a few people off. Why? Because the owners "ruined" a perfectly good classic automobile, or they could have restored it back to stock, or some other reason that tickled their grey matter at that point. The owner of the Olds handled one critic beautifully; "I'll tell you what - the next antique I purchase, I'll let you dictate the restoration as long as you pay for all of it. And I'll guarantee you don't know shit about how much that process costs." Being a critic is cheap - in fact it's free. Being an owner requires time, talent, blood, sweat, and yes money.

There's that old saying about hot rodding an old vehicle - if one has to ask, especially a great number of questions, they won't understand. That's still true.

Until next time, most likely next month, peace out.
Dave

It's Not The Destination - It's The Journey

Relax - I'm not going to get all zen and philosophical on you; at least not too much. By the time you read this, it will be way old news, but the headline is just starting to make the magazine and print life cycle. Tom "The Mongoo$e" McEwen died more than two months ago on June 10th. I'm not going to expound greatly on his life, career, and other worthwhile signposts of his time on Earth. Back in my youth, I can remember playing with the matching Hot Wheels sets of the Snake & Mongoo$e Plymouth Duster and 'Cuda funny cars as well as the top fuel dragsters. I still have those die cast gems. I'll admit the dragsters are in better shape than the funny cars because the dragsters couldn't roll for shit because of the uber-skinny front wheels, their light weight, and the fact they were so long, they never worked all that great on a track, so I didn't play with them nowhere near as much as the funny cars. I have other Mongoo$e memorabilia ranging from magazines, Fleer drag racing cards, as well as historical books on the golden era of drag racing. The kicker was, I was never really a huge fan of Tom.

Looking back, I can honestly admit that I wasn't a huge fan because McEwen was never in the winners circle all that much. I can remember grunge match races he had with Don Prudhomme when I was younger. The number of races McEwen won you could count on one hand... and they match raced a lot. Reading into Tom's career, I discovered that his razor sharp skills were in sales and marketing. In this arena, he was a master pitch man. It was McEwen who nailed the multi-year contract with Mattel and Hot Wheels back in late 1969 and carried that relationship going almost into the mid-70's. Ditto could be said for his sponsorships with Coors and English Leather and also after he retired from driving in the 90's, with Drag Racing magazine when he worked as Motorsports Director.

You could say, when looking at McEwen's career in the rear view mirror, that while he was not a frequent winner, or set cake-loads of NHRA records, it was how memorably he raced and engaged in the sport of drag racing. And the sport is better for it. Good speed Tom.

Now that were done with what has passed, I wanted to delve briefly into what could very well be the future. I was at a car show last month where there was an absolute plethora of muscle cars, street rods, antique trucks, and drag racing machines. I was chatting with a friend of mine who owns a screaming yellow 1963 Chevy II that has a nasty blown 327 that competes regularly throughout the Northeast in nostalgia events. A woman and her 5-year old son approached us and asked if we knew the owner of the Chevy as her son thought it was cool. My friend spoke up and informed her that he was in fact the owner. Mom asked if her son could look inside the car. My friend is a more than gracious person, especially when it comes to kids. He told her, "We'll do even better, " squatted down and asked her son, "... how would you like to sit in it?" The young lad was so psyched, looked at his Mom for approval, and she replied, "If you want to." My friend opened the drivers door, hoisted him into the front seat, and even had him put his helmet on. While the boy couldn't even reach the pedals or steering wheel, you could still see his smile through the helmet. His Mom was so thrilled, she was almost in tears. After about 30 seconds in the car, the boy got out, as both he and his Mom thanked my friend. He said the pleasure was all his. My friend turned to me and said, "You know this as well as I do. Start them young. That's what will keep this hobby going. And they're not on the damn cell phone. It's a good thing."

This is one of the major reason why I dig car shows and family drag racing events. It's the people. Despite our differences, we all have to get along. Will this one event make a difference in the boys life? Maybe. Maybe not. But that's not the main point. The bottom line is, if all of us can make positive differences, big or small, we'll all enjoy the journey more than arriving at the destination. Way more.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

The Older I Get, The Older I Go

I was talking with a good friend of mine just this morning whom I haven't seen in about seven or eight months. I finally had a chance to congratulate him personally (Facebook doesn't replace this, I'm sorry), on him getting his pilot's license. He encouraged me to do the same because he knows I'm a dye-in-the-wool gear-head regardless of the type of transportation. I agreed with him, because even though I'm not a "aircraft" kind of guy, I do have a private love affair for planes built from the 1910's through the 20's, especially bi-planes. There is a transportation museum only a few miles from my house that has numerous examples of these winged wonders, and the staff flies several of them on a bi-monthly basis in conjunction with car and air shows. His immediate response was extremely enthusiastic stating how cool that would be. Who knows - flying, at least in the air and not just on a drag strip or the tarmac, may be in the cards of the future.

It's strange - when I was younger, say in my 20's or 30's, I really didn't care for this type of vintage. In fact, my window of vintage was quite small. It was all muscle cars from my youth from 1964 through 1971. However, as I grow older, (I'll be 55 next month), I find I'm stepping further back in time as I age when it comes to purchasing cars, save for the Fox-body Mustang I purchased five years ago. While I still dig 1987-1992 Mustangs as well as late 70's Chevy Malibu's (both are excellent examples of going fast on the cheap), I've found I've been slowly drifting backwards. After muscle cars became stupid expensive, I got into old trucks; mainly from the 50's and 60's. When they became stupid expensive, I grooved on late 40's / pre-1955 American coupes. And while they never experienced the same phenomenon as the first two categories, price wide, I outgrew them because it was somewhat of a bitch to stuff nice examples with big block power without some extensive work and surgery.

Now it's American iron from the late 20's through the mid 30's. Yes, one could say, "Hey Dave - you'd better wake up. A decent example can run you up to 20-25 large. And that's cheap." If I browse the wants ads, whether it's Facebook Marketplace, Racing Junk, or wherever, I can totally agree with you. However, there are some screaming deals out there, as well as off-beat models (ie; not Ford or Chevy) that have a cheaper entry fee. I found a nice 31 Ford example that is about 90% done (just needs paint and a few interior touches) with a 392 Hemi engine that's super-charged with a BDS blower for $15 grand. You can't beat me to the punch, because it's already sold... and not to me. Be that as it may, it proves there is still decent stuff out there that is being sold by people still breathing oxygen, if you look hard enough.

I also bounce back and forth with the T-bucket thing. I've seen some beauties with big-block power, vinyl tops and even heat. And while they tend to be less expensive, (on the grand scheme of things with vintage automotive), you have to deal with an engine bay that's always open to the elements as well as a rig that does not have windows at best, and no roof with most examples. Definitely something that's a challenge to drive in a sudden shower or in the crisp fall air in September and October. Even with those challenges, I can still drift back and make excuses for the impracticality because the coolness factor is way up there. You just don't see that many here in the Northern New England. But maybe there's a reason for that...

I'm too worried about the next go-fast vehicle in our family. I'll probably change my mind a dozen times or so between now and then.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave

New Vs. Old

I realize it's been weeks since I've posted a blog entry and get ready for the myriad of excuses. Between going on a much needed vacation, working overtime at my regular job, as well as other things that life tends to throw at you, all I can say is... it happens. You also know that as well as anybody. Whether it's finding some spare time to work on an old car "project" that seems to take forever, or possibly missing that huge national car event out in the mid-western United States yet again. And then you vow to get to it next year. Then we'll see what next year brings.

I did have the opportunity to drive a brand new Chevy Malibu rental car over my vacation. It also gave me the chance to truly engage in much of the new technology that is now standard in numerous vehicles. I looked up my vehicle on the Chevrolet website, and with the options my car had, the Malibu had an original MSRP of just over $28,000 dollars. While not that outrageous price wise in today's car market, I came to the conclusion that while the car had such cool amenities as heated leather seats, satellite radio with a Bose sound system, and really decent mpg (thanks to the 1.5 liter turbo-charged engine), I would not want to repair this car when shit starts breaking down. 

For example, all the lights are either LED or HID bulbs. While LED bulbs are more expensive than regular bulbs, it's the HID headlights that get uber expensive. The Malibu had more computer systems than one would realize - over 25 according to my research. It also had the annoying "rear seat reminder" which would ding louder than hell almost every time you shut off the vehicle. But by far, the most troublesome feature, was the "auto stop" mode the car goes into at almost every intersection. I remember reading about this about two years back as a way to save gas as well as cut exhaust emissions. While the concept seemed kinda cool on paper, it took new vehicle owners a bit of a learning curve when this system debuted as they weren't used to a car that just shut off - or in their words, stalled out. GM even modified the tachometer to show drivers the car was doing what it was supposed to do. While this feature does not engage in any highway traffic scenario, and actually very little in a bumper to bumper traffic jam type situation, it does do it's thing over and over in a more urban area with traffic lights. I guarantee this car will need a new starter in 2-3 years as well as the sensor that operates this system that's behind the brake pedal.

While the Malibu performed almost flawlessly - the transmission computer got confused at times at stoplight situations where the stopped time frame didn't last as long as it "thought" it would - I only spent $75 in gas over the course of 1,500 miles. However, I still longed for those vacations of yesteryear. Maybe it was because gas was only 40 cents a gallon. Maybe because a 1967 Dodge Monaco was considered a full size car back then, while the Malibu is considered one today. Perhaps because the cars were way simpler then; the Monaco had a 383 engine that most likely came with A/C. If it ever broke down, it was easy to fix, and pretty cheap as well. If the A/C worked, you were still cool as a cucumber on hot sunny days. You could tow a boat with that full size Dodge. You can barely tow a small U-haul trailer with that Malibu due to the 1.5 liter engine. Say those numbers again - 1.5 - that's the same size engine that's in a 2nd generation Toyota Prius or an older Yaris or Echo. That's sub-compact territory.

It's on my bucket list to take a late 20's / early 30's street rod for a vacation road trip. As long as it's super reliable (as much as I can make it - stuff is always going to break), I believe it will add a very unique flavor to the trip... even if I spend way more than $75 in gas over the course of 1,500 miles. Until that time comes, I'll continue to rent new cars. Like a certain destination you go to while on vacation - it's nice to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Ditto with new cars; I like driving them, but I wouldn't want to own one.

Until next time, peace out.
Dave