A fellow Mercury man has hit some hard times and could use some support.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
I was getting ready to settle down with a Pabst and listen to Elvis sing “Blue Christmas” on forty five when my buddy Matt the Mod asked for a lift to his parents pad on the coast because his sissy boy scooter broke down again. He knew I was not planning much for Christmas anyway so why not spend it with him and his folks? Since I was between chicks and the action on the streets was down I said “what the heck” and we fired up the roadster and headed out.
As I said I figured I would make the best of it and enjoy a nice “holiday” weekend with my Mod buddy at the beach. I did tell him if he so much as once started screaming, “We are the mods” I would boot his butt to the curb. Ever since that stupid movie mods seem to think they can take out rockers, but lets be real here. I like Matt and all but he and his little trench coat wearing buddies are as scary sugar plum fairies.
We were motivating along when we rounded a bend and lo and behold I saw a ride I was real familiar with. It was a 1969 Judge that belonged to a pretty cool cat name Blato. Now this guy has one major drinking problem and likes to get real “frosty,” but he is pretty harmless. His Judge was pretty hot but we had never run…and “judging” by what I was seeing we never would.
The goof ball was flying higher than the bombers over Tokyo in WW2 and had lost it coming around the bend and totally wiped his ride. It was a real shame to see that car like that, but Blato was okay.
We called my buddy Wolfchild who owns a wrecker company and he said he would take care of Blato’s car. Blato jumped in the back of my roadster and we were back on our way. He gave me his cool top hat for helping him out but he kept talking about how there was magic in it…that magic consisted of a flask of Jose’s finest Mexican hooch I later found out. He was starting to get on my nerves yelling some crap about “resting gentleman” and “little drummer boys” when we came across a trio of cats I still have not figured out.
These guys were wanting a ride and I thought they said the were on their way to see the Misfits on some island but I really was not paying attention because these guys were talking about some really crazy stuff. I could not make everything out because of wind noise and Blato’s ranting but this what I got out of these three.
One of them I think had a “snow” habit. His freaking nose was as red as the paint on the So Cal Roadster. He also kept worrying about some chick, and it sounded like pure paranoia talk. He felt everybody was out to get him and would not let him play in any of their “games.”
The guy in the hat was some sort of hit man or something. He was carrying a piece and a freaking pickaxe. I think he was out to kill some biker named Snowman in a club called the “Abominables.” He was also all about the bling and kept talking about silver and gold.
The last guy I think was a dentist, but I really had no interest in anything he had to say. He was way too much of a pixie for me. It did sound like he was the smart one of the three though.
We loaded these three “wise men” up and were heading for this island they were going on about. When we finally arrived things instantly started looking up. A total and complete doll was hanging around but a small problem was she was with two clowns. One dude was real quite and was covered in dots. The other guy was the real problem. He was some mouthy square named Charlie Inthebox. I guess Inthebox is some sort of northern last name, but I knew this guy and I were gonna butt heads the second I saw him.
I was making my moves on the doll when ol’ Charlie started talking about my car and saying it was a heap. He said it belonged on the Island of Misfit Toys. I have no idea if that was the name of this dungheap town we were in or what but I asked him where his ride was and to bring it on. Well of course this guy has no wheels of his own but keeps telling me his buddies ride could blow my door handles off. I told him to go get his buddy and then he mumbled something about capping me with a squirt gun full of jelly.
By that point his mouth had issued one too many cool violations so I took it to this guy. My buddy Matt the Mod invited Charlie’s pal to a boot party also. We worked these guys over like the three ghosts that worked over Scrooge and let them walk. Charlie kept muttering “I’ll be back.”
By this point the doll was head over heals for me and the rest of the guys wanted to get an eggnog or cider or something. That gave me a chance to make my move and invite the doll to the First Annual Island of Misfit Toys Submarine Race.
I was making good time when all of a sudden I hear the rumble of exhaust and Charlie’s annoying voice.
I look up and Charlie is rolling in with none other than Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. They are in a bad little short and Billy and Charlie were looking to run. I told Billy I was in but only for pinks and I asked if he could handle that? He responded, “do reindeer fly?” I told him no they don’t and he started in on threats of coal in my socks. I guess Billy blew one too many brain cells while on tour but the race was on. He got a big smile on his face and started talking about some ho, I can only assume that was Charlie.
Blato acted as flag man and the race was on.
It was not much of a race and I got him pretty good.
He tried to get out of handing over his pink slip so once again I had to resort to violence. I felt bad for beating on Billy and hoped he would recover in time to go on tour.
The guys and I headed on out for Matt’s parents place but I heard that Billy took Charlie into the woods and went all Deliverance on him. I left the doll behind because she was starting to turn me off “ragging” on me too much.
The rest of the holiday was great for me but for some reason all the kids were sad on Christmas morning. I heard that Santa had lost his sleigh, been beat up by some guy, and then got arrested for murdering somebody so no toys were delivered. It all apparently happened in the very same town I raced Billy in. I hope Billy made it home okay.
Anyhow, I hope everyone has a safe and happy Christmas.
Yours in Rat Rodding,
The Rat Rod Rocker
Monday, December 14, 2009
Dear Rat Rod Rocker,
I want to build a rat rod, how should I go about doing it?
I wanna be cool like you.
Did somebody say rat rod?
Get some air bags dude. They are a must. Go with patina all the way, and red rims.
Make sure even if you can weld to weld like a dirtdobber. It gives it that authentic detailing everybody looks for.
You are going to need a theme for the car. For example my pic at the Round Up this year had a "Sea Hunt" theme. Mini diving helmets for air cleaners, pilot wheel, and so on. It ruled.
How about an ancient Egyptian theme? You could paint it flat gold, pyramid shaped air cleaners, and for that over the top coolness take all the wheels off and get you car club buddies to carry the car with you in it dressed as Isis.
We have an opening in the Road Raja's if you want to follow my advice.
Yours in rat rodding,
The Rat Rod Rocker
This is my "John Wayne" shot at the Winter Nationals back in the 60s.
I got the chance to drive a very famous gasser against a mad man at the Nationals when the regular drive crumbled like a cookie at the thought of losing that race.
Me, I was not scared and when the team owners asked I stepped up and drove this ride into the history books.
Due to a mess up by the guy doing the article for "Draggin News" the other guy who did not drive got the credit and not me.
Lucky for that other driver I really did not want his job full time. As you can see the team owners were offering me some serious cash to take over the full time driving duties but I passed.
I loved old Pebble and Tree but I wanted to stay independent.
Instead of SWC though the car could have been SWRRR for the Rat Rod Rodder.
Maybe SWR cubed would have looked even Kooler?
Since I am all about the chicks I got me a slick sled to woo woo woo them in.
Any ladies interested in a late night ride to watch the submarine races drop me a comment at the end of this post.
I'll be waiting.
I won this bad short from some ricer punk back in the 60's.
Stole his trick girl too.
Funny thing is for several weeks I kept hearing some odd noise from the trunk but never bothered to check it...I could not find the trunk key.
It stopped but it started stinking like a monkeys butt mixed with candy and death. Wonder what was in it?
Anyhow I sold it to some dude in a mask and he done killed himself racing it.
My bucket that I like to refer to as my "rail."
When it was my new bomb people really went crazy over it.
Took out some zeros with it and became a legend like Lawrence of Arabia...ya know, he was an Englishman who came to fight the Turkish.
When you got on it it had a "wang" to it fer sure.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
I'm into bikes also. This "choppers" addiction happened when I was on the "west coast."
My roommate at the moment is one of THEM mods. Matt the Mod is what everybody calls him but I can't explain it.
All my car club buddies pick on him and it gets him down but it never shows, he hides the pain behind his blue eyes and carries his burden like and animal.
This is how most people remember my roadster, from the rear as they are getting left in the dust.
If you look real close you can see last years salt from B-ville on my custom paint.
Who cares if it ruins the paint, it is a badge of honor and I will never wash it off.
If it rust it just makes it cooler...instant patina baby!
This is some labor intensive stuff. As you can see that hood ornament is almost shaved off.
Don't wear yourself out, make sure you take a Pabst Blue Ribbon brake. It's what all the kool kats do!
Once you are done shaving pop that ride in the oven at about 425 for about 20 minutes. Make sure is gets all hot and bubbly and done in the center. Pull it out and instant kustom with a “K.”
When shaving that hood once ya get started ya gotta ease into it. Don’t get to wild and keep some of that oh so sweet filler ready to plug them holes.
Use a total karate kid action...ya know, wax on wax off.
So repeat after me, "grate up, grate down, grate up, grate down."
Now ya got it!
Here I am fixin the old primered covered rod back before "flat" became all the rage.
Heck, I was gonna paint it until the trend took off that I started by accident. How was I to know the trend would GERMinate?
Check out the hot orcabetty I picked up that night. After I got the ol' ride purring again I got her purring.
Okay kats and kittens, when ya nose that hood cheese grater style in the "M" school tradition follow these tips!
When it comes to tools make sure you understand that you are gonna need one big ol' grater in chrome daddy-o. If in it ain't chrome don't bother.
You will also need some serious filler, Mexican mix works well.
I like it better than marine filler because you don't get that fishy smell.
When ever you are detailing that ride make sure ya have your wife beater on. It draws the orcabetty's like vans draw shag carpet to them.
It's just like a little bit of Vegas all the time anytime minus the 70's four doors full of greaser punks.
My high school picture at American High School in 1957.
I was voted most "ain't he neat" by all the chick-a-dees!
The gals did the graffiti thing pledging undying love for me all over American High Skool.
Lots of them thought I was a real "tiger."
I had just recently died my hair and my buddies said it was a mix between piss yellow and puke green.
Hey kids, Rat Rod Rocker here. I am the koolest kat daddy that ever banged a shifter.
I am a fool on old skool rat rodder and if you wanna be kool learn from me.
Follow my easy plan and example and you to can be a lifer living the rat rod lifestyle.