Bomb City Blog-O-Zine

2012-03-09T13:43:00.001-08:00

From the HAMB:
http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=670723

Scarlett Fever is an annual benefit that exists to give support to Scarlett James, an incredibly brave eighteen year old Bay Area native who is leading a very difficult life. At a young age, Scarlett was diagnosed with Rett Syndrome, a disorder of the nervous system that leaves it’s victims, almost exclusively girls, unable to walk, talk or feed themselves. They need twenty-four hour a day care because of the horrible seizures and breathing difficulties associated with this only recently officially recognized affliction.

Luckily, Scarlett is part of an amazing family, as well as an entire subculture that knows how to take care of their own. She is an official member of The Road Lords car club, who boast over 50 members with 5 chapters spread out over both coasts. They truly function as a family, and Scarlett is very much everyone’s adopted daughter or little sister.

Scarlett Fever benefits take place on both coasts, The San Francisco show is always held at the DNA Lounge in March, while Scarlett Fever East is held in June at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, and is hosted by the New Jersey and New York Road Lords chapters. The outpouring of love and support for these successful events has been nothing short of miraculous and awe-inspiring. So, while Scarlett Fever is indeed a benefit, it feels much more like a celebration. While there is no cure for Rett Syndrome and those affected do lead tremendously diminished lives, Scarlett’s parents Bob and Rosa decided long ago that they were going to give their daughter the best life possible, and this event is the living embodiment of that pledge.

Top bands, burlesque performers and even authentic Hawaiian dancers all line up to contribute their unique talents, and the auctions at these events have become the stuff of legend. Mike Ness, a long time friend of the family and Scarlett’s Godfather, dutifully sends autographed guitars to both shows. Local builder and co-sponsor Skoty Chops spends the months leading up to the event building custom bicycles and pedal cars to be auctioned off. Top kustom kulture artists and pin stripers like Keith Weesner, Mr. Wim, Jeff Norwell, Egge, Jeff Allison, Speedcult, Rich Luna, Steve Caballero, Dirty Donny, Pizz, Terry T-Bonez and countless others have contributed art, while The Rodder’s Journal, Mooneyes, Gambino Customs, Trophy Queen, Behind Bars Inc., Cole Foster, and many other car clubs including the Burbank Choppers, Dragoons, Poor Boys, Rumblers, and Piratas M/C have also sent in various contributions, all proceeds generated by these donations go to much needed therapy and medical supplies.

In the end, that may be what makes Scarlett Fever so unique. With any other charity, you never really know where your donation is going. Here, you not only meet Scarlett, you become an extended member of the family yourself, and can truly see her progress. You are making a difference in this very special person’s life, and you’ll have a great time doing so, a win/win situation if there ever was one. – Mike LaVella

It's a great show for a great cause, I'll be there. You can buy tickets online:
http://www.dnalounge.com/calendar/2012/03-11a.html

It's at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco:
375 Eleventh Street
San Francisco, CA 94103

See you there!

Los Boulevardos Cruise To The Lake 2012 3/3/12

2012-03-06T10:48:00.000-08:00

I started the week pretty upset that my car wasn't going to be ready for the show. I had been working like crazy to make it, stressing every little detail, and trying to get every last thing dialed in but ultimately I didn't make it. This was going to be my first big show as a Boulevardo, and I was going without a car. Nevertheless, Josie and I opted to make the drive to Southern California in my dad's pickup truck, and we headed down I-5.

It has been way too long since the two of us took a trip together, and it felt great to be on the road again, even if it wasn't in the coolest vehicle. We left town in such a frantic rush that I had forgotten why we were leaving in the first place, that is, until I heard the familiar rumble of an old Lincoln in the distance...

We cruised alongside Memo for a bit, never quite sure if he realized it was us in this unfamiliar truck. All of a sudden I didn't feel like we were alone in this, having people to share the freeway with made the long and boring drive feel like just another cruise. We debated slowing down for a while to cruise together but ultimately decided to keep our pace and make it to LA as quick as possible. It was great to see his car in action, but we were in a hurry.
The drive down I-5 past there blurred together, as it always does, as an endless chain of orchards, fast food, and truck stops from Tracy to Bakersfield, but before long we were over the Grapevine and heading quick towards our destination. It had been hours since we saw Memo's headlights fade in the rear view, and we had been alone again on the freeway for some time now.
We made it over the Grapevine, and after a while we started seeing road signs for streets that are legends in our world; Downey, Whittier, these streets have become bigger in our collective minds then anyone ever could have imagined. In the (surprisingly light) Southern California traffic I saw the unmistakeable roofline of a 60's American car down the way, but couldn't quite make it out. As we got closer, the shape became a little more familiar, and when the bellflower tips let out a loud rap as it let off the gas there was no mistaking it-- that was Bob's Buick in the distance! We were here.

We had made it, we were amongst friends again. I chased and weaved through traffic like a mad man to catch up, and quickly saw Eryk's 53 Olds was leading the cruise.

It's a hell of a feeling to be six hours from home, surrounded for hours by nothingness in complete anonymity and then to suddenly find yourself barreling down the freeway in good company. Even though I was in a modern truck, I still felt like I was a part of something. To cruise with my friends and my club down the Los Angeles freeway, listening to the Santa Ana winds carry the rap of straight pipes through into the stratosphere, I felt at home. We followed Eryk and Bob to SoCal Burger, where we were met by even more familiar faces and cars in the parking lot.

We hung out for as much as out we could handle after the long drive from the Bay Area, then called it a night and headed back to the hotel for a few hours sleep. It felt great to be amongst friends in an otherwise strange and foreign place; seeing those guys on the freeway had made me feel right at home.

The next day, after a little confusion, I found myself at the gate to the Santa Fe Dam with Alex and Nick waiting for the Park Rangers to open up and let us take over.

After a bit, the rest of the LBCC crew was in the park and we started setting up, ready for a long day of good times with the bonus of raising a little money for the Children's Hospital of LA.

Apparently, even tough we had cleared the BBQ with the park, since the Dam is county property, there's an entirely different permitting process for a "car show", so after a bit of arguing with the "period correct" dickbag LA County Sheriffs, we compromised and moved the club merch and raffle prizes to the trunks of cars and the bed of a truck.

Apparently, it's ok to sell things without a permit in a county park so long as the process is entirely inconvenient. Either way, we didn't let the police presence put a damper on our day, and despite some harassment and egregious fines for some participants, the Sheriffs let the show go on sans music and hood-popping (seriously-- there was a threat that they'd clear the parking lot if they saw hoods popped. Welcome back to High School.)
The weather was amazing, the sky was bright and open, and if you looked up long enough you could ignore the bullshit on the ground and take in some killer scenery in the background of some amazing cars. I love this show, and I hope we can find a home for it that's as deserving of these peoples cars and presence. The crowd at this show was amazing, not the type of stereotypes you hear about at "LA" car shows. Well, for the most part-- a Rap Troupe of some sort rolled through at one point and shot a video amongst our cars. Aside from that, it was a chill weekend with friends, and we raised a good deal of money for a good cause.

This car has recently undergone a massive transformation and really looks great. Nice work guys:

One of the highlights of the show was handing out the Club Pick award to the white and gold 56 Chevy from the Auto Butchers Car Club that everyone knows so well by now. I didn't get a chance to take it's picture this time (in fact, from looking at other peoples show coverage I missed a TON of cool stuff), but the look on the face of the owner really made my day.

This is the type of guy that we all aspire to be like some day, an aged vetrano that still takes his car out and drives it hard and consistently no matter what the flavor-of-the-month trend is. I love this car, and I love that I see it at almost any show from here to the East Coast.

After the raffle, Josie and I ducked out quick to make it to an art gallery in Hollywood before they closed to pick up some amazing prints.

We also got to stop into Kat Von D's "Wonderland" shop, which was pretty damn cool despite all the Reality TV hubbub that surrounds it.

After all that, we hopped back in the truck, and headed home up 101, looking forward to getting the Buick back on the road and daydreaming about driving it down next year. Thanks to everyone who came out and made this weekend so memorable, we had a great time. Thanks for reading.

Sacramento Autorama 2012 2/17/12-2/19/12

2012-02-24T00:38:00.000-08:00

The Sacramento Autorama is one of Northern California's last big indoor car shows, and what a show it was. This year was back with a vengeance, the Club Room was open again and packed with tons of great cars and killer robots (that's right, courtesy of the Sacramento Poor Boys Car Club and this year's "futurama" theme). The suede room, where I spent most of my weekend was so full of awesomeness that it overflowed into the Expo Center parking lot.

I've really come to appreciate these annual shows as much more than just a gathering of cars, they're more like a time stamp on the year. The human aspect of the Autorama is hard to explain, and impossible to photograph. It's great to see my friends grow up, start families, build new cars, and win trophies. This show feels like a community. Maybe it's because we're all stuck on neutral territory for so long that we run out of things to talk about besides cars so the only thing left to talk about is real life. I love this show, I love watching it grow, and I love spending time with the people that make it so memorable. This year's Autorama felt even more special to me because after nearly a year away from shows all together after her recent diagnosis with MS, my wife was back with me in the booth. That makes all the difference; shows like these are so much better when you get to share them with someone you love.

Anyways, here's our pictures! If you detect a new perspective in them, that's Josie's eye, she took all the good ones this time:

Congratulations to Drew!

This car was the absolute highlight of the show for me. I am, of course, biased-- the builder, Walt Hughes, has been a friend for years. This kid (kid- he's my age) has worked like crazy to get where he is now, and I'm so happy for him. Not that long ago Walt actually worked at a job that required him to mop mayonaise from a hot shipping container, and pretty soon after that he decided to get serious and build cars like he had always dreamed. He started out sweeping floors at Frank De Rosa's shop (for free, mind you), and he's worked his way up enough to have his own little shop and he's turning out his own killer work. Art Himsl painted the car too, in some crazy blue ice pearl. Now, that would be impressive no matter what, but at Autorama this year Walt (And owners Ron & Karen) took home TWO TROPHIES- One for Outstanding Sports and one for First Place Class (Custom Sport, I believe). Walt poured his blood, sweat and tears into this, and I'm so happy for him to get some recognition for it. Someone my age to go from rattle-canning a car in our driveway a few years ago to winning his class at the Autorama is a really awesome thing to see, I wish him the best of luck in the future.

Killer display:

ROBOTS!!!

The Imperial Owners Club had a really impressive showing. I could have geeked out on them for hours:

The Suede Room 2012:

Upstairs was really impressive, and I think at least 80% owned by James Hetfield...

Hell yes:

Honestly, all the cars, all the awards, and all of the show would be meaningless without the company of my wife. I've missed her the past show season, and now I appreciate our time together just that much more.

LBCC Guerrilla Cruise #3, 2/12/12

2012-02-16T21:59:00.000-08:00

I was really excited to make it to this cruise, after I ended up catching a cold right before the last one and missed it. I met up with the group down at the E'ville marina to stage for our short cruise across the Bay Bridge. Since the few days before the cruise were rainy and dreary, I wasn't sure if anyone would make it, but we got lucky. The sun came out and the weather held out long enough for a good day in SF.

One of my favorite things about this cruise is that it's not really a car show at all, it's just a gathering. I love it when new cars join us, it's nice to meet new people who want to get out and use their car as a "car". We waited up for a while for more people to show up.

After a bit, we hopped in our cars and made the short drive across the Bay to Red's. It felt right to drive my in-progress car across next to the in-progress Bridge; it's been a rough couple of years for everyone, but things are finally heading in the right direction, and they're going to get better. It's half-time, America...

Anyways, the cruise went off without a hitch across the bridge.

My favorite moment was when a guy at the toll plaza yelled out his window asking where we were headed. I yelled back that we were heading to Red's, and he followed and hung out for a bit before heading back where ever he was going originally. I love that people from outside our car world can see what we're doing and want to learn more.
It was a fairly uneventful (by SF standards) day, and I had a great time hanging out with friends and meeting new people. If you're reading this and are remotely close to the Bay, you should really consider joining us.
Thanks for reading, and thanks to everyone who came!

Los Boulevardos Cruise to the Bay II, Jan 15th, 2012

2012-01-03T18:35:00.001-08:00

Mark your calendars, set a reminder on your phone, tie a string to your finger, do what you gotta do to make it to this one. This one is going to be awesome....

LBCC Nor-Cal Guerrilla Cruise- East Bay to San Francisco 11/12/11

2011-11-14T13:40:00.000-08:00

LBCC Nor-Cal Guerrilla Cruise- East Bay to San Francisco 11/12/11

What an incredible end to an insane year. The weather broke late on Friday and cleared the way for a perfect day in San Francisco. I rolled out to the Emeryville Marina, our impromptu meeting spot early to hold it down, and enjoyed being the nicest car in the parking lot (by default, I was also the only car in the lot) for a little while:It didn’t last too long, as our friends from as far as Vallejo, Sacramento, San Jose, and Fremont quickly showed me up and rolled into the East Ocean parking lot at about 9 o’clock. We waited it out for more people, and eventually hit the road trying to out run to gloomy gray sky over the East Bay. I led the pack as we rolled slowly onto I-80 and across the Bay Bridge. Seeing cars in a parking lot or on the grass at a car show is great, but there’s just nothing like seeing chrome and flake in action on the highway. It makes you appreciate a car on a whole new level, not as a collection of cool parts, shapes, and colors, but as an incredible machine, moving and bumping down the road as if it’s alive and breathing. We must have turned a lot of heads rolling across the bridge, it’s a shame I couldn’t capture the action. We pulled off on Folsom in the city, and slowly rolled through the edge of the Embarcadero to my new favorite spot in the city, Red’s Java hut. This spot is incredible; it’s an awesome greasy-spoon diner (with a full bar, if one were so inclined) on the edge of the bay with the Bridge and the East Bay in the background. A perfect spot for a breakfast cruise by all measures, we’ll be back for sure. This means so much to me. I’m still a little in shock:Every time I get to make it out to a show and hang out with people at events like this, I always leave in a daze, constantly impressed by the quality of people who this lifestyle draws in. It is so nice to close the laptop for a while, put down the car mags, and hit the road with good friends and watch your worries fade in the rear view. I am so grateful for everyone who made it, and I’m looking forward to seeing more new faces out there next time. Thank you.

Nor Cal Guerrilla Cruise Nov. 12th to San Francisco

2011-10-26T10:29:00.001-07:00

Be there! Should be a lot of fun, check the link for details:

Swanx Fall Fiasco 2011, Fairfield, Ca 10/8/11

2011-10-13T11:38:00.001-07:00

Swanx Fall Fiasco 2011, Fairfield, Ca 10/8/11

I had a great time at the Swanx show this year. I couldn't have asked for a nicer way to close show season, for me at least, than hanging out with friends and cool cars in a Sheet Metal shop. It seems like bigger car shows this season have been a little down, and while I'm not sure why that is, I've got to say it's made the smaller shows more enjoyable. The Swanx show is one of the great examples of that; you don't need a huge venue or fancy pipe & drape to have a great show. I imagine this is what car culture felt like back in the mid-nineties, it's been a return to smaller more intimate shows where everyone seems to building things in different styles and we can all meet in the middle and hang out for a weekend and compare notes. I love it, it doesn't feel like a scene, it feels like a community.

For me, this was my second car show ever in my Buick, and my first time vending out of it. The car took it well, that huge trunk is perfect for holding a ton of merch.

The car ran pretty well, it handled the load great. I made it with no problems, and had a great time at the show.

I do not get sick of looking at this car. It's so... right.

Holding it down...

This was very much in a Sheet Metal shop:

I love the taillight treatment on this 57:

I had a great time. I couldn't help but be reflective on the past year on the drive home, all in all I accomplished a lot this year. Next year is going to be even better, the initial thrill of getting the car on the road has subsided, and now I'm ready to step it up and take it to the next level. Thanks to everyone who made this happen, it was a blast. Thanks for reading.

Visual Mechanics, Somos Gallery, Salinas, CA 10/7/11

2011-10-10T10:44:00.001-07:00

I decided to make the trip down to Salinas to support our friends from Deadend Magazine and checkout this art show at this neat Art Gallery in Downtown Salinas, Ca. I've never really spent much time in Salinas, and I really had no idea what to expect. I'm also not much for art shows, I never really know what to do, so it was all going to be a surprise. I picked up my friends Stoney and Brooke on the way down, and we headed out through some of the most ridiculous traffic I've ever dealt with on the way there.

When we pulled on to Main St, we instantly knew that we were in the right place, the street was packed with hot rods, customs, and lowriders with a turnout and quality that should make any event planner proud. I'm not sure if all of the cars there were from Salinas (in fact I know they weren't, John Parker and Art Rivas made the drive all the way up from around Ventura!), but I do know that people from Salinas build a car with a ton of heart and passion, and it shows. It was a really impressive thing to see, and that was just outside the Somos Gallery!

Inside the gallery was a clean and glowing art gallery packed with incredible photography, great paintings, and cool sculpture. The gallery itself was pretty rad, it had a ton of cool books and those neat vinyl toys you always see in Juxtapose and Hi Fructose. If every gallery had lowrider bikes in the window the world would be a better place. If you're ever out in Salinas, put the Somos Gallery on your absolute must-see list, the Steinbeck Museum can wait.

I'm not too sure what's acceptable when it comes to taking pictures in an art gallery, so I didn't take many pics of the works themselves, so if you can't make it, be sure you check out the artist's online or elsewhere, these guys are some of the best:

Rod Powell
Tim Conder
Deacon
Cole Foster
El Angel
Eric Tapley
Andy Southard Jr.
Alan Signs
April May
Flip
Juan Espinoza Jr.
Jesus Espinoza
Joshua De Leon
Steve Cabellero
Eddie Padilla

Sorry if I left anyone out! Thanks especially to Juan and Jesus at Deadend Magazine and the SOMOS Media & Gallery for making this happen, I had a great time. Enjoy:

I need to get me a chrome cowboy hat:

What it's all about. Cool cars, great art, and great people. Do yourself a favor and get out and support your local art scene.

RIP Steve Jobs (Updated)

2011-10-05T17:46:00.001-07:00

Before, when I said "it's hard to put to words for how this makes me feel", that was a total cop out. I'll try. Doing so will inevitably out me as a total nerd, but if you can see the value in an electronic web-based platform for sharing pictures and thoughts across the world in an instant, I'd ask you to consider yourself one as well. It's ok, you're in good company.

I never met Jobs personally. I've been a Mac user all my life, I learned to type on an Apple II at my elementary school, my family bought the Performa when it became apparent that we needed a computer in the house. My Dad, who was never really a "gadget" guy once brought home a Newton, which was a device way ahead of it's time, and the obvious inspiration for the iPhone I'm writing this on right now (although I'm glad to not be writing in pseudohieroglyphics using a stylus). I learned how to edit photos and film on the eMac, and in fact, most of my schools had all Apple computer labs. I realize this "credibility statement" probably isn't that important, as my Blogger Stats show about 50% of you reading this right now are using an Apple product too, and probably do so for similar reasons.

My Dad and I have, for some reason or another, never been too close, we never did the typical father-son bonding routines. One of the few things that we did, for a moment at least, really connect on was computers. The only thing that we'd do together with regularity in elementary school was to go to Macworld in San Francisco.

For the less nerdy of you reading, you might not understand why a kid would have any interest on going to a computer convention. It's true, things of this nature are typically dry, boring, and souless, but Macworld was different. Apple thrived on creativity, color, and excitement. It was a lot of fun; grown men and women were as passionate about the products that they made for a living as you could imagine, and as a kid, the excitement and fun was contagious. Corporate functions didn't have to be stuffy and dull, and computers didn't have to be gray. And this was all driven and shaped by Steve Jobs.

Jobs taught me, indirectly, of course, that if you find a passion for something you could make it happen. A start-up company started in a garage by college drop out hackers could grow to epic proportions; David could take on Goliath. He taught the world to think different, that form and function are indistinguishable and effectively the same thing, and that the world that we live in can be radically changed and shaped by good ideas and passion. His spirit, enthusiasm, and creativity has had a tremendous impact on how I've chosen to shape my life, and the lives of the people around me. Today, I'll do my part to step up to the plate so as to someday inspire others to do the same. I'm going to push a little harder today. I'm going to say how I feel with a little more conviction, and I'm going to work a little more at shaping the world into something a little more beautiful. Sometimes punkass kids like us can make a difference.

RIP Steve Jobs, your memory and inspiration lives on in me and my generation. You've shown us that we can do it too. We'll make you proud.

This blog was made 100% on Apple products, all photography, editing, and writing this year has been with my iPhone 4. RIP, sir, you will be missed. A hero of mine for many reasons. 

-Sent from my iPhone

Billetproof #15, Antioch, CA 9/17/11

2011-09-19T17:45:00.000-07:00

Billetproof, the "World's Least Important Car Show", is now in it's fifteenth year, and it just keeps getting better and better. Back to a one day show this year, Billetproof in Antioch packed the Antioch Fairgrounds with an impressive array of the world's best hot rods, customs, and traditional lowriders for an amazing Saturday.I was really excited to finally enter my car in this show, I've been going to Billetproof since 2002 and it seems that every year, in some way or another, the universe has kept me from participating. Well, this year was different, and I was able to make it in my Buick, scoring my first ever car show window sticker and Billetproof timing plate. I don't really know why there are whisperings around the fringe of our Car Culture community about the relevance and legitimacy of this show; it makes no sense to me. Alan and his wife have been doing an incredible job keeping such a big show a down-to-earth and fun time, and there couldn't be a better set of people at the helm of this show. I'd also like to extend a huge thank you to the host car club, The Dragoons, for keeping this show as fun and laid back as possible, you guys are doing great. Everyone should be excited to have a great bunch of younger hot-rodders getting active and making this incredible show a success. Thank you. My weekend started with a last minute thrash through the charging system of my Buick. This was going to not only be it's first car show ever, but also it's third time on the freeway since I've owned it. I've been working like hell to get it roadworthy for the past four years, and finally the stars lined up and I was nearly ready the week before. I installed a new one-wire alternator and eliminated the old voltage regulator in the back lot of my apartment. I live in an urban loft that's not been too old-car friendly (at least to me; blow off a transmission line in the parking lot at your apartment if you're curious of what your neighbors think of your old cars). A few minutes after getting it running, and the new wiring passing the "hasn't caught fire yet" test; I was ready:I was hesitant to bring the car at all; aside from barely being road worthy, the car looks like hell. I still need to wetsand and do a final clear on the roof, the car desperately needs body work, and my temporary grill was only held in with zip ties. I eventually decided that if my car was going to any show in this state, there couldn't be a more appropriate venue than Billetproof. Sure, the hot-rodders probably wouldn't "get" my car, and the establishment custom geeks would probably laugh at my efforts towards building a mild-custom, but whatever. Those guys have their shows, and this one is ours. This is a show made for and run by DIY back-yard hot-rodders, driveway customizers, and sideyard painters. This is a show for cars that aren't perfect; a show for unfinished driven customs, and for cars built for the fun of the owners, not the approval of the masses. This is the punk rock of car shows, but not in an annoying "in-your-face" sorta way, it's more of the cool "you do your thing, and I'll do mine" atmosphere that the show was founded in so many years ago. If my car wasn't appropriate for this show, we'd need to start a new show where it was, so thank god for the Billetproof founders to do the hard part for us and establish this epic Bay Area show. Pulling into the gates meant worlds to me. I can't tell you how much I pined for this opportunity for years. I took my long-deserved place on the lawn, strategically parked by a tree to hide the needed body work on the front fender. Anyways, enough of my ramblings, there were other cars here too. Enjoy:Early morning, lots of cars were already here:Camp Dragoon, braving the mild cold and fighting of the racoons so we don't have to:Sunrise at the Antioch Fairgrounds, a beautiful sight to behold:I love the custom work on this pickup:Damn this felt good:The model car show was pretty impressive too! I dig it:Roof swap!I was parked next to a much nicer car...I love this Thunderbird. It was painted by Jonboy's Kustoms, it's Lil' Daddy Roth Snocaine flake under gold candy. Beautiful:This Rivera was beautiful, and was sporting BC plates. Dig the 50 Pontiac taillights:Nice to see this T-Bird around again:Always a pleasure to see the living legend Herb Martinez at work:And just like that, the show was over, and I watched the setting sun fall deep behind the hills. I made it home without incident, with a mind full of big hopes and wild dreams about taking the car to the next level. Thanks to everyone who made it happen, and thanks for reading.

Ventura Nationals, Ventura, CA 9/3/11 & 9/4/11

2011-09-10T16:21:00.001-07:00

It's hard to believe that it's already been a year since the last Ventura Nationals. This show is always incredible, it's the perfect mix of great cars and great people, and this year was no different. This year I headed down to Ventura with my Mother-in-law to vend for the weekend, leaving home, school, and the girl of my dreams in the rear view for a few days. Being away from my wife is always really tough; the entire drive there I was dreading the impending loneliness of being without her. We pulled into our motel without incident at about midnight, Ventura was tightly wrapped in a blanket of beach fog, but you could still feel the errant energy in the air, as if the entire town was electric with anticipation.

I slept little, restless alone and without any idea what the morning would hold. It's ironic I suppose, I hate gambling, and would never throw down any amount of cash at a card table, but in Vending we take a pretty big risk every weekend.

We headed out early to the fairgrounds to wait in line. When I saw Coby's van waiting in the car line, I started to get a good feeling about this show. Surfers were piling out of cars at the beach in total darkness as we finally rolled into the fairgrounds.

We set up quick, and I waited for things to settle down before I made a quick run through the show. It was freezing cold, overcast, and windy, but still the fairgrounds were packed with a collection of cars well worth the drive.

This car deserves all the attention it's been getting on the web and then some. The quality of finish and attention to detail made me think it was from Japan, but I was happy to hear it was from California. Whether it was consciously influenced by recent Japanese builds or just another case for Jung's collective unconscious, it warms my heart to see cars here taken to a level most commonly seen from Japan. Anyways:

Every time I look at these photos I find another detail that I love, from the really creative body seam fades to the engraved trim, I just can't get enough:

Check out the trunk; genius:

This bike...

No shortage of interesting builds at the Ventura Fairgrounds:

Interesting use of Econoline headlight trim:

A newer club, the Tangiers, had a pretty impressive showing, I dig the plaque:

I had a great time walking around and talking with a bunch of great people, and at the end of the day we wrapped the booth and headed out. I stopped by the Motel 6 to spend a little time poolside and had a blast. I know it's been said a million times, but this club and the friends that are around the club are some of the greatest people in the world. I walked into the parking lot and instantly felt like I was at home with family. As much fun as it is seeing cars at the show, it's even greater to get to know the people behind them, it really feels like a community. It doesn't seem to be a geographic anomaly either; people come from all over the world to Ventura, and after a few minutes of bullshitting you feel like you've know each other for years.

I spent a long time trying to process the awesomeness that is Eryk Frias's Buggy. Still need more time to process it all, I love everything about it.

Exhausted from the long day and early morning I headed back to the hotel. I spoke with my wife on the phone for nearly an hour about everything and nothing. I feel sorry for people who have to spend time apart, even the most amazing car show or gathering still doesn't fill the void in your heart from not being able to see your one and only.

I watched TV until I passed out from exhaustion and slept a dreamless night. Closed captioning was provided by Sizzler, which I assumed was long out of business.

The next day was a little strange. The previous day's weather seemed to have taken a great toll on attendance, but that gave me more time to really appreciate the subtleties that made the cars there so incredible and unique. Ironically, the weather was much nicer on Sunday, allowing for better pictures.

A novel use of 59 Caddy taillights:

Less cars means there's more time to appreciate what does show up, I love the upholstered top:

And more with this amazing Bomb:

Juxtaposition:

This wagon makes me happy:

Sweet DIY grille on this Cadillac:

And finally, I made my way to Camp Boulevardo. Good times, guys. Good times.

Representing.

The Buggy; incredible.

Continuity:

Before you knew it, the show was over, the merch was back in the truck, and we were back on 101-N. I was home before midnight, back in my wife's arms and asleep in my own bed.

I had an amazing weekend, it was great making new friendships and reinforcing old ones. I can't even attempt to thank everyone personally for their kindness and generosity because the list is so overwhelming. I can't wait until next year.

Thanks for reading.

Royal Jokers Cruise Night, 8/5/11

2011-08-06T15:02:00.001-07:00

Well, another month down, another great night in Downtown Oakland for the Royal Jokers Cruise Night. I didn't stick around too long, but the time I had there was great. I can't believe summer is almost over, it seems to go by quicker and quicker each year. Here's the few pics I got before the sun went down, enjoy:

First, I love the Buick wheels on this Impala, for some reason. Apparently they're just temporary while they get ready to take the car to the next level, which I'm pretty excited to see:

Bomba City-

This car far and away the winner for me. I have no idea who's car it was, but the quality of finish was incredible.

This was happening.

Another great night. Thanks again to the Royal Jokers for hosting, hopefully I'll have the car ready for next time. Thanks for reading.

The Van Story- Part 3, The Dramatic Conclusion!

2011-07-23T13:17:00.001-07:00

We pulled into the U-Haul on the edge of Las Vegas and spat out our thinly rehearsed lie to the kid at the counter, and at first it seemed to stick. He ran the info through his computer, but eventually we hit the same dead end. Unsafe, they couldn't get a truck, they couldn't rent a trailer, we were fucked. Again. Outside the sun was slowly falling and the darkness began to come creep over the desert. I could feel the world pulling us in, trying as best as it could to hold us in this god-forsaken Valley of Fire. The kid behind the counter had a devilish smirk on his face, and you could tell that he was the type of guy that gets off on the tiny sliver of authority they grant him there. Josie and I stepped away from the counter, defeated and tired. Josie, unable and unwilling to succumb to defeat, suddenly saw something that made her jump.
''What about that? That could work!'' she yelled. I turned my exhausted and sun burnt face to see the object of her attention: a bumper-mounted tow bar. When I saw the tow-bar she was pointing at, our eyes met, we both nodded at each other, and we made a silent pact there on the floor of the Las Vegas U-Haul: We were going to flat tow the van home. The look on the face of the kid behind the counter was priceless when we walked up and set our tow-bar, magnetic lights, and safety chain on the counter. He stuttered about for a minute dumbfounded, but finally, failing to find a reason to do otherwise, he clumsily took our money and we ran back to the truck, our spirits refreshed with our new plans. I was exhausted, but our new plans made me catch my second wind, and we drove off into the desert with a new hope and impetus towards success.

The creeping darkness over the desert had stirred some primal feeling inside me to run, I had a knot in my throat and a cold sweat took over me as a tired adrenal gland dripped cold pure liquid energy down my neck and into my soul. This fight to escape had become much bigger inside me; it was no longer just about a van in the desert, this was the ultimate struggle, this was pure survival. I felt with every iota of my being that failing to make it out this night was certain death, and there was no way I'd leave my van behind. The surrounding mountains became the gates of hell themselves, and I knew that one more night would damn me forever to stay and writhe for eternity in the Valley of Fire. I was going to make my escape from hell and steal one lost soul from the clutches of the Devil himself. I could feel the lines of Raoul Duke coming from my mouth, ''There was no turning back. Fuck no, not today thank you kindly.''

On the way back to Walt's, it occurred to us that we didn't have the right tools to properly install this already unsafe apparatus (i.e.: something to put a hole in the bumper to mount the tow-bar to), so I hopped on the next exit towards a place I was sure would have some tools, a Las Vegas Super Wal-Mart.

Now, there are few things in the world that can convince you that modern society might have been a mistake better than the fluorescent-lit interior of a Super Wal-Mart at sundown. It is, without a doubt- proof enough that mankind is willing to destroy itself to save a buck on bulk mayo and cheap beer. The store reeked of cancer, every synthetic and lead-coated plastic that you could imagine was on display, and the faceless mass of people that occupied the store moved as one slow, thoughtless body. Josie and I had thought that maybe we might be able to get something to eat, something we had neglected to do since California, but the shelves of the store offered us nothing of the non-chili cheese variety. We bought a cheap battery-powered red drill, and hit the road back towards the van. A bloated red sun fell completely behind the mountains on the horizon in our rear-view as Josie and I treaded on into the quickly darkening desert. During the drive I mentioned briefly that if Josie wanted, we could stay another night at some dive in Vegas and get started again in the morning, but Josie reminded me of a few key facts:

1. Flat towing a car is dangerous. To make a daytime trip through traffic and commuters would be dangerous for everyone on the road. All it would take to roll the whole rig would be one random mini-van cutting us off.

2. Flat towing is illegal on the freeway. The tow-bar itself expressly stated this fact in bold red letters on a sticker. The van would get impounded for sure and there was no way in hell that we would drive back, much less have the means with which to get it out.

3. The van had no plates, and without being registered was also illegal to be on the highway.

4. Waiting one more night was probably what caught most of the people in the trailer park there in the first place.
Josie made a strong case, as she often does, and so we were set. We would drive all night and flat tow our van home, sleep be damned. I pushed on towards the trailer park.

We got to the trailer park to meet a half-cocked Walt and his girlfriend Brenda, whom we were meeting for the first time. Apparently our small exchange of money for the van earlier was being put to work quickly towards flooding the desert with booze and cigarettes. Brenda had spent her whole life in the desert, you could tell by every crack and wrinkle in her dried out and tanned face. We all drove down the road to the storage yard to get my van; Josie and I in my Dad's truck, and Walt and Brenda in hers. For some reason that now escapes me, we decided to pull the van out of the yard with a towrope and Brenda's truck, I think because we weren't supposed to work in the yard or something along those lines. Walt and I tied the rope between the bumpers of the two vehicles, Walt hopped in the driver’s seat of my van and Brenda jerked away in her truck. I tried to switch places with Walt but he ignored me; this was still “his” van in his mind. The first time the van moved, Brenda slammed on the brakes to poke her head out the window and see what was going on. Predictably, the van smashed into the truck, cracking the turn signal and denting the otherwise relatively straight front-end of my van. Walt let out a laugh that confirmed to me his inebriated state, and I tried to interject, but it was no use. Eventually, we got my now slightly damaged but free-rolling Van on the street, and it was time to both literally and figuratively put the rubber to the road.

With the van out of the lot, I pulled the tow bar out of its box and fumbled with the bracketry. Admittedly, I had never hooked up a tow-bar, and what seemed so simple in the store suddenly seemed tough and confusing. Josie, being the quick thinker that she is, pointed to the bumper braces and muttered something. She pointed out that we could just drill one hole next to the existing bumper hole and be done and on the road, and she was partially correct. When I got up to go to our truck to get our newly purchased drill, a single bat circled the street light above us, adding to the anathemic and dreary ambiance of the desert at night. I shuddered, grabbed the drill and the brackets. Upon trying to use the drill, once more Josie proved her wisdom, as she had been correct in thinking that a place like Wal-Mart wouldn't sell drills with charged batteries. Brenda, watching over the end of a Kool 100 from her truck assured us she had a drill back at the trailer park, as her ex-husband had been an electrician, and had ''left all sorts uh that shit'' in her trailer when he left. Reluctantly, we secured the van to my truck with rope, and drug it down the street to the trailer park.
The sky was completely black when we pulled through the chain link gate on the trailer park. Denny had started a fire, and welcomed us to a beer. Josie and I declined, but Walt and Brenda obliged. A new character had emerged, a man whose name I never got, who looked like Jack Black's fatter cousin, with his largeness actuated by his largeness of presence and half-eaten box of pizza in his lap. He, Walt, Brenda, and Denny all took a seat to watch me struggle with the tow rig, peppering their conversation with jabs at California and my effort to return there. By this point, I was worn-out but determined, I had all the drive to finish but hardly the strength.

While I worked on securing the tow-bar, I overheard Denny and the Pizza guy talking:

“Denny- I want to move my trailer to the spot that Jeff left. That one’s got a tree.”

“Dammit, no! I gave you a tree, you never watered it, and you killed it. Nope, you’re gonna stay in that spot until you die! I ain’t gonna waste a tree on you.”

I got the hitch attached, and backed up my truck to it. As I locked the ball hitch in place, I realized I had neglected to check the plug on the trailer lights. Fuck me; it was the wrong goddamn plug. I decided to do the next best thing, which at the time made sense to be to cut off the plug all together and strip down the wires and splice them with electrical tape. While I was taping the growingly hideous ''adapter'' together, something got the Pizza guy's attention, and he started in:
''Well god damn. Y'all sure as shit ain't making it to Californ'ee.''
Busy trying to get the turn signals to work, I ignored him.
''Nope. I reckon you ain't even gunna make it to the freeway.''
Josie finally started in, ''Oh yeah? I'll be home tomorrow.''
I taped the rest of the wires to the tongue of the trailer and ran the magnetic lights back to the end of the van. Not only was the plug wrong, but the cord was too short. I extended them with whatever wire I could find, and after about an hour it looked like hell, but it was together. All of the lights worked. I checked the lug nuts, they were tight.

The pizza guy continued: ''You ain't never seen the cops we got out here. Hell, they'll stop you just for fun.'' Walt sat by the fire and smirked, but said nothing. Denny joined in, eager to get in a few last jabs.

''You'll be lucky just to have that piece of shit hold together. You get a flat, all three of you are rolling over.'' I knew he was right, so I said nothing. Brenda must have taken this as a sign of yielding, because she offered, ''If you want, you guys could stay the night in my trailer, I got a couch.'' Feeling a strong sense of attachment to my kidneys, checking account, and car keys, I declined. This was it; we were set. The van was coming with us to it’s new home in California, and nothing could stop us.

I started the truck at about ten at night, walked the perimeter of our pathetic rig one more time, and shook hands with our hosts one last time. Josie hopped in the truck beside me, and I squeezed her hand as I threw the truck into gear. A half second later I felt the tug of the van behind us, and we rolled out of the trailer park gates.

After making the first turn onto the main drag, I began to get a feel for how the ride was going to be; the van pulled unlike anything else I had ever towed. When I made a turn, I would watch the van follow behind me, except when the van made the turn it would bump from side to side, barely staying in my lane. That meant no sudden movements for me, hopefully that'd be enough. I met eyes with a traffic cop at the edge of town, and did my best to play it cool. Sure as the pizza guy had warned, this guy looked mean as hell, so I made sure I came to a complete stop at the stop sign. When I did, something in the back of the van came loose, and I could hear it roll to the front of the van and crash. I could feel my heart beating up in my throat; if this guy flipped on his lights this whole thing would be fucked. The cop looked up, he must have heard it, but luckily he decided to let it go, and we rolled on towards the freeway.

There were no cars on the freeway, which is a strange thing for someone born and raised in the Bay Area where traffic never stops. I got the truck up to 50 mph, and things felt ok, but when I pushed 60 the whole thing felt unstable. I let it back to 50 and slowly rolled on; quickly doing the math in my head I realized what a long night it was going to be driving home to the Bay.

We hit traffic for the first time on the edge of Las Vegas. Other motorists gave us incredulous and terrified looks as they passed us, but I looked ahead from the slow lane. We made it through Vegas without event, and we pulled on towards the empty desert towards the California border. I kept the needle pegged at 50 while semi trucks passed me uphill. Right at the edge of Vegas, the fuel light came on, and I pulled into one of the last gas stations on the edge of town to refuel.

I pulled in, navigating our rig through cars full of twenty-something college kids and Asian tourists heading in while we were fighting to get out. I squeezed the truck to a vacant pump, and ran inside to fill up and grab some provisions for the road. Now, in Las Vegas, there are slot machines everywhere, but there’s something beautifully pathetic about the ones that are in gas stations. When I entered, there were a few people at the end of their rope wasting their last few dollars, still hanging on to a sliver of hope that they might win big despite the glowing monument over the hill that should prove otherwise. The guy behind the counter was having some cracked-out conversation with the drunks at the machines, egging them on, when I set my armful of energy drinks and bag of pretzels on the counter. He turned to me, apparently drunk and high on any number of illicit drugs and household cleaners.
“Weeel- you guys next to hit it big? How many days you guys staying?” I stood, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, and replied:
“No sir. We’ve had our fun. It’s time to go now.” Something about that changed him, the smile dropped off his face, and it seemed that the mask he had been wearing was suddenly lifted:
“Go now, then. Go quick, before they get you.” If I had been there myself, I might brush this conversation off as imagined, but luckily Josie was at my side and saw it too. Horrified, we ran back to the truck, filled the tank, and pulled away from the pump towards the freeway.

For as insane as the last 24 hours had been, the drive was surprisingly uneventful. We got some strange looks from weekday commuters in Bakersfield when the sun came up, and each stop for gas took a lot of quick judgment, since our tow-bar rig wouldn't allow us to use Reverse. At one point I had to back away from a spot, which required me to unhook the van, Josie hopped in behind the wheel, I pushed it into position, then ran back to the truck, re-attached the tow-bar, and pulled away with the truck.

We pushed like hell up I-5 towards home. The sun was bright upon us; I was on the verge of insanity because of the lack of sleep and my diet of energy drinks and anything else I could grab without slowing down from the counter of the few gas stations we stopped at along I-5. My eyes were dry and tired, and I almost missed the sign for 580 through Tracy. Amazingly, we pulled onto the home stretch down the Altamont at close to noon, and we pulled into Josie's mom's house at about 12:30. I didn’t have a spot for it at our house, so we’d leave it there for now to re-shuffle the cars. The goddamn thing held together, and we were home. I dropped the hitch, ran my dad's truck over to a gas station, topped it off, scrubbed the bugs off the grill with the windshield squeegee, and rolled the truck through the auto car wash. I dropped the truck back at my dad's, Josie and I loaded our bags in the 57 and drove home. I woke up at about 9 at night on my couch to a frantic call from Josie's mom, shouting, ''What the hell is this Van doing in my yard!?!''

The Dragoons Nite of The Hot Rods- 7/16/11 Antioch, CA

2011-07-17T19:41:00.001-07:00

The Dragoons- Nite of The Hot Rods, 7/16/11 Antioch, CA

If I were older, I'd probably be sitting here rattling on about how nice it is that the younger generation is carrying on the tradition, blah blah blah, but I'll leave that to someone else. As someone in the same relative age bracket as most of the Dragoons, I'm really happy to see my contemporaries doing cool shit and making this great show happen in Antioch, of all places. This show is always impressively packed with killer cars that always makes you take pause by the end of the night and wonder how, exactly, these punk kids (and punk-kid-minded adults) manage to drag such top quality cars out to a parking lot next to a public fishing pier by the railroad tracks. The secret? Honestly, if you met these guys you'd do anything you could to make what they've got going on out here a success. I was booth-bound for most of the show, but thankfully MLV held down the fort for a few minutes while I ran frantically to take a few pictures of the beautiful show. Custom cars, punk rock, and great people, if that's not enough to get you out to a show I don't know what is. Enjoy:

Mrs. Gambino's new Cadillac:

Check out this cool in-progress custom:

Thanks for reading!

The Van Story- Part 2, Past the Edge of Oblivion

2011-07-14T08:47:00.001-07:00

Part II- Past the Edge of Oblivion

When we got out of the truck, a old man wearing aviator shades was walking out to greet us. He introduced himself as Walt, and we got to talking. The more Walt, Josie and I talked, the clearer my understanding of this place became; this wasn't a place that people came to by choice, but rather a place of last resort for people who had expended all of their other options. Walt had been married once before in Utah; his wrinkled forearm still bared her name on a tattered banner over a shaky rose. He was living here, not sure for how long, seeing how things went with a much younger girlfriend out here in the trailer park. Everyone here, it seemed, had some story about how they were just passing through. Nothing about this town had any sense permanence about it; it was as if the whole goddamn place could just pack up and leave in the middle of the night without a trace.

Walt told me he had a couple of vans back in his heydays, and how he had picked this one up as a project a few years back to relive some of those wild times. The 300 six-cylinder in it that his daughter had insisted over the phone was rebuilt and running seemed to be neither; it had been ''installed'' by a shady mechanic in Utah, and Walt's decision to sell it was largely due to the fact that he couldn't afford to pay the guy to finish it. My heart sunk a little when I heard that, but we had already come so far I was still excited to go and see the van. With the desert sun straight overhead, we decided to get down to business, and Walt hopped in our truck as we headed over to the storage yard down the street to go check it out.

Now, for those out there who have never seen a storage yard in the middle of the Nevada desert, you may have missed an important lesson in humanity. The dry air and sand preserves everything like I imagine an Egyptian tomb might, so you get to see in one moment decades of mummified remains of the people who had passed through this place before, either chasing or running from the eerie glow of Vegas over the hill. Walt's space was as sad a display as any, a few pots and pans from a house he once had, old dress clothes from a time he had a reason to own them, and outside, sitting timeless and incredible, was the van; it's faded paint was the color of the desert sand and seemed as old. I’m not sure what you’d call it; if it was a girl you’d say it was love at first sight, but right then I knew that our destiny was intertwined, and there was no way in hell that I’d leave this beautiful piece of machinery to die a lonely death out here in the Nevada desert.

Despite the mechanic's best effort, the van was in great shape. The body was pretty straight, there was absolutely no rust anywhere inside or out, and all of the important stuff was there. The 300, which had been a selling point for me, didn't appear to be rebuilt but it still seemed fairly fresh. When we pushed it forward to see the whole thing, a few cockroaches scattered from where the wheels had been, seemed to consider hiding for a second, then gave up and resolved to lay out in the sand and die. I looked over the suspension, everything was there and secure, and this looked like a deal. A little disappointed that it was more of a project than I had anticipated, Walt shot me an excellent price in California dollars, and we headed back to the trailer park to finish the deal. I began to consider briefly just how I was going to get the van back to the Bay Area on the drive back to the trailer park, but I remembered the U-haul down the street and the thought left my mind.

Walt and I stepped into the only real doublewide in the trailer park, everything surrounding it was an actual trailer- each with sun-baked tires full and Bearing Buddies greased to maintain the illusion that some day they might hook up and roll out of this place. The interior of the doublewide was remarkably sparse; there were two recliners, a TV on a stand playing god knows what, a table in the kitchen, and a shotgun and rifle leaning in the corner. On the table sat a single Crock-pot, and the smell of beans burning in the bottom of it was unmistakable. An older man sat in one of the chairs looking like a redneck’s caricature of Fred Mertz, and introduced himself as Denny. Denny had a sharp wit and a mean spirit about him, but overall was pretty welcoming considering that I was a stranger in his home. I paid the Walt, we did the paperwork, the Van was mine, and it seemed the difficult part was over. Now all I had to do was get it home.

Walt, Josie and I headed down to the U-haul to rent a Tow-Dolly. The U-haul, as it turned out, was ran through the local hardware store. I looked through the store, was relieved to see a few appropriate trailers out in the storage area out back, and I went to the counter, and attempted to rent one.

“Uh, we don’t rent trailers here”, said the kid at the counter, confused, I replied,
“But you have tons of them out back”.
“We used to, sure, but we don’t no more. Company’s coming to pick up the rest of them this week”. I pushed a little more, but the kid was unrelenting. It was about noon, and I figured we had plenty of time to figure something out. We went back to the trailer park; as it turned out Denny had been in town the longest, so Walt figured he’d know where else to try. Denny seemed to remember there being a spot the next big town over, a place called Mesquite. It seemed a reasonable place to go, since I had no map or place to reference where it was. As it turned out, Mesquite was a few minutes drive from the Arizona/Utah border, in the absolute middle of nowhere. Walt decided to join us for the drive, probably because this was the most exciting thing he had done in months, and him and a tired Josie made polite conversation during the drive. I kept my eyes on the road ahead, having no idea of the strangeness that we were headed for.

This is the point in the story where things take on a mystical sort of feel; even now, thinking back, I question if this series of events actually happened. I’m glad I had Josie with me to assure I’m not crazy. I don’t know if it was the almost total lack of sleep, the desert sun, or the malnutrition from not stopping to eat, but the next few hours seem a little fuzzy. Before I go much further, here’s a little back-story on me. It’ll make sense later:

I was about 22 at the time we went to Nevada. My first real job out of High School when I was 18 was working as the Yard kid for a construction company, which meant that I was there to help out, order and deliver materials, and keep track of where all our supplies were. The company was an electrical contractor, and with the rising price of scrap our wire supply was under constant threat of theft. After a few break-ins, my company decided to rent a storage shed from the company across the street so the wire would be a little more anonymous, as well as under video surveillance and behind a gate. I would pull wire from the storage shed for my bosses almost every day to get it ready for the crew to take home in the morning, and since my bosses wouldn’t give me a gate key I had to go in the lobby of the Storage yard and ask for them to let me in, which they always did. After being at the company for about three years, and seeing the family that ran the Storage place almost everyday of it, we got along pretty well, always waved at each other in the morning, I’d share a smoke with them every once in a while, and we’d talk about whatever was new on the block and whatever damage our employees had done to their yard, which always ended in me either sweeping up or getting the bosses to pay for the damage. The husband was an old curmudgeon with a white moustache, he disliked our company about as much as I did, plus he chain-smoked and drank black coffee, so we had a lot in common. The wife was a red-haired British woman; she had an accent thick as the rose-glasses she always wore. About a year before the trip to Nevada I had quit the construction company to go back to school full time, and I said goodbye to the nice couple across the street on my last day, thinking I’d never see them again.

Anyways, back to the desert. We followed the hand written directions that Denny had given us through the desert to the surprisingly quaint town of Mesquite. Between all of the signs advertising golf, the RV resorts and signs advertising “early-bird specials” in the windows of diners, we could tell that the three of us, Walt included, were probably the youngest people in town by many years. I followed Walt’s instructions, and parked near the gate of the yard where again, I could see a few single-axle trailers that we needed. The trailers were being rented through a Storage yard, so we went inside the air-conditioned lobby to rent a trailer. Walt led the way, and Josie and him started talking to the couple behind the counter. Something seemed off to me, and although my fatigued mind couldn’t quite place why I stood at the back of the room, unable to participate in the conversation. When Josie told them the make and model of our truck, the red-haired lady entered the info in her computer without a problem, but things got a little tough when it came to what we would be towing.

The computer system, which always seems to be the thing that keeps us in the “old car” world from getting what we need from the person behind the counter, no matter what the store, only had certain cars listed in the database, and 1963 Ford Econoline apparently wasn’t there. 1963 Ford was, but Econoline was not. The lady entered 1990 Econoline, which is a radically different vehicle in both weight and construction, and probably outweighs the 63 three-fold, so predictably, the computer showed our F-150 half ton wasn’t rated to tow it. Now, in all honesty, it probably wasn’t rated to tow the 63 Econoline either, but safety be damned, we were going to pull the Van with our truck. Besides, she was already “lying” by entering 1990, I wondered if I could get her to err on our side and the side of reason. Finally I joined the conversation, frustrated.

“Look, the Van is about the same weight as a 1963 Ford Falcon [probably not, but still closer in weight than the 1990 they had entered], just put in that and see if we can tow it”. She replied in her thick British accent:

“I can’t just add things in that are false, it’s a liability for our company”. The man with the white moustache sitting next to her sipped his coffee, and nodded his head. All of a sudden it hit me, and my initial nausea made sense: THIS WAS THE SAME COUPLE FROM ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY OLD JOB IN CALIFORNIA!!!!

I couldn’t believe it! Surely, they’d remember me, and I’d be able to seal the deal, and we’d be on the road! I couldn’t have been happier, our problems were almost over. I figured I could draw on my intrinsic old-world Italian charm, shoot a wink and a smile and we’d be on our way. I don’t know what it is about passing through Vegas, but throw in even just close proximity to cheap booze, flashing neon, and gambling and every Italian American suddenly thinks they’re either Nicky Santoro or Frank fucking Sinatra. Besides, these guys knew me, probably better than anyone else in Nevada at least, of course they’d help out a friend in need.

“Hey”, I said, “didn’t you guys run that Storage yard in Livermore? I used to work across the street! Remember? Small world, huh?”

I stood awkwardly shooting the best Ring-a-ding-ding smile I could muster for what felt like hours. The man with the moustache looked deep into my eyes for a second, and for whatever reason, didn’t smile back. Thinking back, I must have looked ridiculous, with a few days beard, a pit-stained shirt that was the only one I had packed, and a greasy sunburnt forehead bearing a mouthful of unbrushed teeth. I never got the terms of how exactly they ended up here, but for whatever reason they seemed to regret it, and my mentioning of their old life actually seemed to make them more upset and less reasonable! Apparently, they weren’t too happy out on the edge of the desert. Eventually, after about a half hour of back-and-forth, they told us to go to another U-haul, rent a truck and a trailer, and tow it that way. I didn’t like that idea, but I did like the idea of the opportunity of a fresh start by going to another rental space, so, defeated, the three of us hopped back in the truck and headed back into the desert. My mind, still blown from the lack of sleep and the smallness of the world was only focused on the drive.

Stoneypalooza and The Strangers BBQ 7/9/11-7/10/11

2011-07-10T21:14:00.001-07:00

It's not my intention for this blog to become a deeply personal account of my travels, but this weekend my personal life and my show-going life are inseparable and indistinguishable. My wife has been having a really tough time getting around lately. She's had a hard time walking, and hasn't been able to stand for long periods of time on her own for a while now. We recently started seeing a neurologist about it, and she's been going through pretty intense treatment for what we learned was an inflammation of her spinal cord because of lesions on her brain. Its scary stuff, and not something to be taken lightly. She's been knocked down for a few weeks, and really hasn't left the house, aside from coming to the shop, for about a month. I stepped up and with the help of a few friends we've been running the shop in her absence. The past week was particularly tough, because not only did she have to deal with the side effects of some pretty harsh medicine, but also because we've been waiting for a blood test to reveal what life-long condition we'll be up against. Well, Friday's doctor appointment revealed that she has MS, a yet uncureable auto-immune disorder that's going to require long term treatment, but the fact that we now know what we're dealing with has been surprisingly comforting. Also, the harsh medicine seems to have worked, because after a few weeks of being house-bound Josie's feeling much better and is back on her feet again. Saturday was her first full day back at the shop, and since she was feeling pretty good we decided that we'd drop by Stoney's Third Annual Pre-Strangers Show "Stoneypalooza" on Saturday night.

Stoney's street was packed with a gathering of cars so top-notch that they would make any automotive outing worthwhile, and it was really great to get to meet the owners in such a laid back and casual environment. Not only were there amazing cars and great people, but Stoney's wife Brooke cooked up some killer food, which for me, put this shindig over the top.

It was really great to get out again and to be greeted with open arms by both friends and complete strangers. I was busy stuffing my face and avoiding some heinous creation called a "Blanco Basura", but Josie managed to step out and take a few pictures out front under the streetlights. The lighting didn't allow for great full-car shots, but enjoy this tasty sampler of the Stoneypalooza awesomeness:

Stoney's Cadillac, hours after having the front end air-bagged, tucking Tru=Spokes like it ain't no thang.

The Starlight Crew made it. Hopefully next time we'll have more time to talk!

Starlight under streetlights

Some killer endless line by Phil:

We had a really great time, but had to head out early so I could get up early to set up for the Strangers show. Thanks again to Brooke and Stoney for their incredible hospitality and generosity, it means a lot.

I woke up the next morning and headed South to San Jose for the Strangers BBQ at an ungodly hour. I met Josie's Mom and Uncle down at Kelley Park to set up for the show, where we took our usual spot on the grass. I didn't get to stick around too long because I had to pick up Josie and open the Berkeley shop, so I only got a few pics as cars rolled in. I headed out around 10:00, and there was still a line of cars into the parking lot. Here's what I got, and a huge thank you to the Strangers Car Club for hosting this excellent event:

The roof on this wagon is fantastic:

That's all I got. I wish things could have been different, and that I could have stuck around and hung out, but that's just not my life right now. Josie and I are really optimistic about the future, now at least we know what we're up against, and we've got a plan to treat it. Tomorrow is promised to no one, and things could be a whole lot worse. Not everyone gets to have what we have, and I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have her. It's also great to know that we've got great friends and a great community of like-minded people out there to fall back on when we need someone to talk to. Thanks for reading.

Two good reasons to buy Traditional Rod & Kulture #26

2011-07-06T18:05:00.001-07:00

1. An EXCELLENT article and great photos on Coby of Church Magazine's amazing Econoline, Van Go.

2. Wonderful coverage of the Sacramento Autorama by BOMB CITY, AKA my wife and I! It's a tremendous honor to have our work in such a huge publication.

A huge thanks to Zombie and the crew at TRK. Check it out, it's a damn good issue.

Like it? Let them know!

- Posted from the road

The Epic Tale of my 1963 Econoline, AKA: The Van Story- Part 1

2011-07-01T17:28:00.001-07:00

I decided I should post up the long and strange journey that is my van build-thread from the LBCC board. I'll post it up in a few installments. Enjoy:

Part I- In the beginning:
Josie and I left for the desert at about seven o'clock at night. Still being at the height of summer, the sun hadn’t fully set, but it was steadily on it’s way there. I hadn't even unpacked from Paso; my duffel bag sat in the back seat of my dad’s crew cab half full of yesterday’s dirty laundry as we climbed the Altamont. My heart pounded as I held the wheel of the truck, swerving around potholes with one hand, pounding an energy drink with the other while my brain went over all of the important details of our trip: We were heading for Nevada, and tomorrow I would be pulling home my Econoline. We left so quick I didn't even bother to get directions; I knew we were staying the night in Vegas, a drive I’ve made a handful of times, and finding a room should be easy. We would call Walt in the morning to go see the van, thus far I had only spoken to his daughter who had posted the van to the Las Vegas craigslist for her computer-illiterate father. This whole ordeal started from that ad and a picture she emailed me before Paso:

She had said that there was a U-haul down the street from him, and we'd rent a trailer one-way from there for home. I don’t even think I said much more to my Dad when I borrowed his truck than “We need to borrow the truck for a few days”, carefully not mentioning the madness and adventure that we were heading straight into.

The sun had set thoroughly before we got through Bakersfield; Josie dozed off as I drove steadily through the Mojave Desert through Tehachapi, Barstow, then Baker. The drive was surprisingly uneventful; I hardly even remember talking much on the way there aside from debating whether Chrome Smoothies or Supremes would be more appropriate on the van, whether or not 1963 was too late for Lake Pipes, and whether I could still pull them off in more of a 70’s street-machine sort of way.

I pulled on the strip in Vegas at about four in the morning, but with Vegas being, well, Vegas the street was alive with tourists in t-shirts. We pulled in to the Flamingo at about four in the morning, a place decidedly hard on the eyes after an all-night drive.

As we walked through the lobby we passed endless aisles of middle-aged women staring blankly at slot machines and video poker, slowly watching their money leave them with one hand poking at buttons with the other gripping a cigarette with a mile-long ash. We made it to the counter, and checked in to an over-priced room for the night. The coked up kid at the counter wouldn't cut us a deal based on our late arrival, and we ended up staying in the room for a few hours. I didn't really sleep, but rather passed out from exhaustion for an hour or so. We took this picture from the window of the hotel room:

We got dressed, grabbed our things, and we were off for Day 2:

I felt just as bad as I looked.
We stumbled out of the room at about nine in the morning and wandered slowly through the Flamingo back to the truck. In a daze from the Nevada sun, exaggerated by our overall exhaustion and lack of food we took a minute to observe some of the Flamingo’s wildlife; a handful of dying koi fish swimming listlessly through a green pool marred with spit and cigarette filters.

I called Walt from the truck, and he gave us directions- we still had an hour or so before we were in his town, so we were back on the highway again, nearly blinded by the bright desert sun.

We saw a foreboding sign along the way that said we were just outside of the “Valley of Fire”, which didn't lie. I guess it got that name from some Indian tribe, and I could see why- this was the closest place to hell I had ever seen. We pulled off at Walt's exit, and headed in about twenty minutes off the highway into this small town. I don't remember the name of the town, or if it actually had one; the place was more of a collection of people living on the edge of the desert, still dry-humping on to the American dream, but just barely. The dry wind of the Nevada desert seemed to have blown most of the life out of there. It was the kind of place that doesn't get a lot of visitors, a fact that quickly became apparent to us- our white California plates must have been shining bright on the truck because every porch-sitting denizen of this place couldn't take their eyes off them. Some people even got up and stood in the street behind us as we walked by, which was one of the eeriest things I had ever seen. It didn’t occur to us at the time how vulnerable we were out there, no one, including ourselves, really, knew where we were, we had a handful of cash, one cell-phone between Josie and I, and no idea about the caliber of the people we were about to meet. After driving up and down the only paved road in town a few times, we finally found our meeting place- a trailer park with no visible address on the edge of oblivion.

Last Originals Car Show 6/25/11

2011-06-28T18:29:00.001-07:00

The Last Originals Car Show in Pacifica; what is there to say? Every time I make it out to this show it's special, I don't know if it's the lovely refurbished retro bowling alley or the crashing waves of the Pacifica shore across Highway 1, but something about this show has made it become so engrained in my subconscious that even thinking about not making it to this show would surely cause long-term psychological damage. I weathered the typical Pacifica fog and sea breeze alone this time, so I didn't get too many pics of the great variety of cars at this show, but I hope the few that I did will properly convey the fantastic "anything goes" attitude of one of my favorite Bay Area car shows.

I think that what makes this show so special is that there's no year cut off, no restrictions on make, and no big attitudes. It's the sort of show that's not really a show at all, it's more of a great excuse to hang out and catch up with old friends, meet new ones, and take in some great atypical Bay Area weather. I didn't have a car in the show this year, I came alone, but as soon as I arrived I instantly felt at home and welcomed. I hope this show continues to be here in the future, it's one I'd really miss a show season without.

Enjoy:

Usually I'll save the Hipstamatic stuff for Twitter (@eastbayvendcore ), but I'm pretty happy with the few detail shots I got with it:

- Posted from the road

Kings by the Bay 6/18/11

2011-06-22T14:14:00.001-07:00

It's been a pretty heavy week. I've had a lot on my mind, so it was great to step out and clear my mind for a day and take in one of my new favorite shows in the Bay Area, "Kings by the Bay", hosted by the Style Kings car club and held at Cal State East Bay up in the hills overlooking Hayward. The venue was terrific; looking at beautiful cars and seeing the Bay Area in the background made the show feel both incredibly grounding and surreal. I was working solo, so I didn't get too much time to step out and see much of the show, but hopefully the few photos I took will help convince you to pencil this show in on your "must attend" list for next year. Enjoy:

- Posted from the road

HAMB BBQ TODAY in FREMONT

2011-06-20T21:25:00.001-07:00

Today:

Road Zombies 16th BBQ 6/11/11

2011-06-12T18:13:00.001-07:00

Sixteen years ago, I was a snot-nosed punk-ass ten year old on a skateboard without a thought about cars more than to avoid them when they roll out of driveways. Little did I know that over the hills in the South Bay there was an event taking shape that would grow to define exactly what every car club BBQ should aspire to be.

This year was the sixteenth annual Road Zombies BBQ in Santa Clara, and it could not possibly have come on a more perfect day. I was here again as a vendor, so I was sure to make it out early to get my usual spot. Josie packed me a stunning tray of donuts for the morning, which took a great deal of restraint and composure to deliver intact.

The car ran fine, and I made it there with plenty of time to set up and take in the scenery. The Elks Lodge in Santa Clara is really everything you'd want for a car show/BBQ location: green grass, a big area for sitting in the shade, and a surly bartender. Every time we do this show I appreciate the venue a little more.

Another great thing about showing up early on the damp lawn is that your car has time to sink into the grass and look a little lower by the end of the show.

I didn't get a lot of time to walk around since I was vending solo, but fortunately the few cars I saw were well worth the trip by themselves. Thank you to everyone who came out and made this show happen. If you're in the area, you owe it to yourself to make it out to this one, it's one of the most fun and laid-back shows that we go to. Here's the few pics that I got, they're mostly from the early morning, enjoy:

This is pretty much the vibe here by the end of the day, good times.

Really wish I had more time to check out Ahmad's truck, this was it's first show:

That's all I got, be sure to check the HAMB for more comprehensive coverage. Thanks for reading!

Show Coverage: Royal Jokers Cruise Night 6/3/11

2011-06-04T12:58:00.001-07:00

Another great night at the Royal Jokers Cruise in Downtown Oakland. The looming threat of rain kept a lot of people at home, but the weather held out and it ended up being a great night. My favorite car of the night was Goozgaz's newly repainted Lincoln, with new tangerine metalflake panels and new hubcaps. It's the sort of car that warms your heart just hanging around it. Bay Area, you NEED to attend this cruise in, it's one of the best things going on in the car world right now.

I only took a few pics because I was busy hanging out, thanks to everyone who came out. Enjoy:

Batmobile!

Another great night in Oakland. Thanks to everyone who made it happen!

- Posted from the road

Show Coverage: Royal Jokers Cruise Night 16 (May 2011)

2011-05-07T13:23:00.000-07:00

Here's my shots from last night's Royal Jokers Cruise in. Another great night in Downtown Oakland, this show keeps getting bigger and bigger.

I love Oakland. I'm really glad that The Royal Jokers have their show out here, more people need to get out of the 'burbs and check out Oakland, it's an awesome city.

Show Coverage: Royal Jokers Cruise Night 4/1/11

2011-04-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

Another great night in Downtown Oakland! This cruise-in is a lot of fun, I'd highly recommend it to anyone within a reasonable distance. Good times, good cars, and good people, what's not to like? I'd also like to extend a HUGE thank you to the Royal Jokers Car Club for putting on and organizing this event, it's great to have something like this in the city.

For those of you who haven't yet been, it's at 22nd St. and Telegraph at an old Burger joint. The event coincides with Oakland's Art Murmur on the first Friday of the month, so it's an interesting crowd. Check out the Royal Jokers blog at:
http://royaljokers.blogspot.com/

Sorry about the dark and grainy pictures, it IS at night; I'm doing my best. Here's my pics, Enjoy!

Thank these guys for making it happen:

Hope to see more people out there next time!

Show Coverage: Cruise to the Lake

2011-03-07T10:38:00.000-08:00

It's really hard to put to words how much this past weekend meant to me. I joined the Los Boulevardos Message Board in 2007 as a total stranger. I knew only one or two people from the board in real life, and I really had no idea what I was in for. For me, this club/forum was a collection of my favorite cars from the HAMB; these cars were the coolest of the cool, yet so abstract, far away, and hopelessly intangible. I was amazed when I registered for the board at how friendly everyone was, I felt honored to be so welcomed into the community that I had such respect for even though I brought so little to the table. As time went on, I got to know a lot more of the local LBCC crew, and made it down to a few shows down south. What I found there, behind all the witty banter and phenomenal build threads on the LBCC board, was a group of the most solid, stand-up, and downright "cool" people I've ever met. Where I once felt alone in my oddball obsession, I now felt surrounded by people who thought like I did, who built cars like I did, and finished cars to a level that I could only dream of. I was honored to be asked to prospect for the club last September, and I hope that I can represent the LBCC up North in a way that's on level with the high bar that's already been set. I don't know what it is about our specific sub-set of the custom car world, but I love it; it draws in the best, the brightest, and the funniest people from all around the world. When I saw that the LBCC's annual Cruise to the Lake in Southern California was coming up again this year, I knew that I needed to go. I couldn't sit this one out and just look at pictures; I had to be a part of it.

Mike LaVella agreed to run the Berkeley shop for us for the day, which was incredibly generous considering that Sunday was the Scarlett Fever show in San Francisco that he sponsors. Thanks so much Mike, it means the world to have someone like you in our lives. If ANYONE is unfamiliar with Gearhead Magazine, please stop right now and click the link in the sidebar; your life will be richer for it. Cars, Art, Punk Rock, and writing with heart and soul, is there anything better?

I took a half-day at the shop on Friday to get the 57 ready. The day before I had remembered that this was a pretty tough drive, and it had been at least four years since we'd made a trip down south, and about eight years since we had taken the car all the way into Los Angeles. I caught and fixed a horrifying fuel line leak, filled up all the fluids, tightened down a couple of things that had rattled loose, and threw the interior together the best I could. Daily driving a car certainly takes a toll on it.

I headed down to the Shop and loaded up a sweet set of Rocket wheels for Eryk, because if we're heading down, we might as well go with some sense of purpose. And of course, if you're in temporary possession of someone else's stuff, you need to take gratuitous pictures of you abusing it.

Seven O'clock couldn't come soon enough. We closed up in a hurry, and rushed home to pack our stuff. We ended up heading out later that I had hoped, so we had to miss the Royal Jokers Cruise a couple blocks away. We hopped on 880 around nine-o'clock, and drove on towards Southern California. It's been cold, foggy, and rainy here and I couldn't wait to see some sun and Palm trees.

The car ran great, and we kept a pretty steady pace, stopping every couple hours to fill up on fuel and coffee along 101.

After the long and grueling drive, roughing out the fog outside of Santa Barbara, we finally pulled off the 101 to 405, and on to the Hotel. We pulled up to the front door around four AM to find our friends parked VIP style on the sidewalk in front of the lobby. We followed suit; us Nor-Cal kids park wherever the fuck we want. Apparently.

We checked in, and I could hardly sleep. I took a quick walk around the parking lot and saw the Arizona caravan parked it the back lot:

I couldn't believe I was standing in front of Ryan's Cadillac; this car was so important to me, without seeing pictures of it years ago I hesitate to say I would be here today. This was one of the first "60's style" cars I remember seeing on the HAMB in the early days, and here it was

We slept for a few hours, then packed it up and rolled into the show around noon. I would have liked that have made it in earlier, but I don't think my body would have let me. I parked the car, and made the rounds. I can't believe what an impressive turnout there was at this show, and how perfect the location and weather was.

This Riviera was awesome. I love the wheels & bullet caps, Keystones I believe. I want to run down pedestrians in it:

I assume this is another brilliant Starlight Customs creation. I really like the endless line on this, and the quality of finish was really impressive:

This car has a cool "Summer Madness" vibe:

This Oldsmobile was really impressive. Excellent execution, great line work, I'm in love:

There was a hell of a trophy for club pick. It looked a little strange at first glance:

The inside was a special "surprise", I'm sure the winner's wife appreciated it:

It went to this car, which absolutely deserved it. This car was really impressive. No trendy bullshit, nothing fake. A little restraint goes a long way; it looked like a photo-chop come to life:

One of my all-time favorite 56 Chevys was there:

I was really happy to finally see Sperry's Chrysler in person, this was another really important car for me autobiographically; it really changed the way I thought about what makes a good start for a custom. You don't see a lot of Mopars finished in this way, and it's really a shame.

Note: Be careful when parking under Palm Trees. Seconds after this picture a big-ass branch fell and landed on top of this beautiful Caddy.

So Josie and i NEVER go to shows without working. Josie was there for about five minutes before she was helping out in the Deadend booth. She just can't turn it off!

Luckily, she took a few minutes off to snap some killer pictures:

So all this: an awesome show, beautiful weather, amazing cars, all for free. If that's not enough, on top of that you've got the LBCC serving FREE FOOD!

More gratuitous T-bird love. Expect to see a LOT of this car in magazines this year:

Bob's 1962 Buick is coming along really well. I'm excited to see it's custom-evolution. Nice to see it on the road again, plus it's on Star Wires now. Bonus cool:

So perfect in it's simplicity. Seeing this car meant a lot to me:

I like fins.

This was the winner for me this weekend. Simple, elegant, classy. Thanks for rolling it out, it made my day:

Big open sky. Hard to believe there's still places like this in Van Nuys.

Another favorite from Gilroy:

I'm looking forward to the next Deadend update, this is what it looks like in the making:

Very cool 1955 Chevy, you don't see a lot like this:

I love the interior of the Starliner. Endless line stitched into the seats, a really clever move.

And after a long day in the sun with the best people on the planet, Josie and I said our goodbyes and headed out into the sunset. So long for now, Southern California. Thanks for being an amazing host.

Show Coverage: Sacramento Autorama 2011

2011-02-14T11:06:00.000-08:00

Just two weeks after GNRS Pomona comes the Sacramento Autorama, or as I like to call it, "Sac-O-Rama". This show is usually one of the classier Northern California shows, and with the falling of the San Francisco Rod & Custom Show, it's the biggest indoor Hot Rod and Custom show in Northern California, at least that I've attended.

For us, normally this show is a good excuse to get a nice hotel room and stay up in Sacramento, a city that, aside from shows, I've never really gotten to know very well. Sacramento is like Northern California's LA, except for without the industry and money. In years past we've stayed in a hotel right down the street, and there's nothing quite like waking up, strolling down to the lobby, and grabbing a cup of coffee while George Barris is eating oatmeal in a track suit at the table next to you. This year, however, with the tight economy, and the added stress of having two shops open, we didn't get the hotel room, and I was stuck doing the show by myself.

Vending solo is not just tough work, but emotionally exhausting. I'm lucky enough to work with people that I love, specifically my wife and Mother-in-law, and without them along, vending is just work. I'm still fortunate that it's work with a beautiful backdrop, but it's work nonetheless.

I headed out on Thursday after class in San Francisco, and made the boring two hour drive up I-80 towards Sacramento. The radio in my Mother-in-law's truck picked up only static, so to add to my solitude I drove in silence. Driving alone makes me strangely introspective; I always find myself recounting my life's history, talking aloud to the car about the people I've met that have come and gone, places I've worked, and the strange things that I've seen.

I got to Sacramento around noon, and cars were still rolling into the Suede room. I set up solo, trying to remember how Josie would do things, constantly second guessing myself. After a few hours, I had a decent looking booth, so I walked around the suede room and got a few pictures. The Suede room in Sacramento, I have to say, was a little more up my alley than the one in Pomona; there were a lot more in-progress customs, and a lot fewer period hot rods. Period correct high-boy roadsters and pre-war builds might be fun to drive, but they don't do much for me sitting still on the show floor under fluorescent lights. I think I liked Sacramento's suede room better, but you can decide for yourself:

I really appreciate the amount of work it takes to clean up a 55 Dodge, it looks great:

This is going to be a good one to watch, dig the custom work on this sweet Olds four-door hardtop:

I'm a sucker for quad lights:

This car was pretty good. A few missteps for me, but all in all more was right than wrong:

The paint was really well executed:

I finished setting up, and I made a quick run through the rest of the show. The show seemed significantly smaller than in years past, and there didn't seem to be too many big budget customs. John D and Zocchi's cars were in the same spot they always were, and looked great, but were a little underwhelming for me, as a fan of the radical 60's and 70's style customs that I've come to expect.

I dug the hell out of this safe, in a vendor booth (I didn't get a name, I was practically running through the show!):

Flawless.

Toy car:

John D'Agostino and Richard Zocchi's entries this year. The paint on both was absolutely beautiful.

Yes, it was still set-up day.

Skoty Chops' car is coming along really well. I dig the brown suede:

After set up, and a few problems checking in, I headed back to Livermore, and switched cars. I took the 57 over to the car wash; if I'm driving into a show, even if it's just in a daily driver, it needs to be clean.

The car looked pretty good, but I couldn't help but notice that the spots where the primer is wearing thin are getting a little bigger. Someday I'd love to have a place to park under a roof, I'm sure the car would be grateful. I headed home to Oakland, and slept for a few hours.

Friday:

The next day the car fired right up, and I filled up in Emeryville before making the trek up 80 again. Stopping on the West side of the freeway makes it hard to leave the Bay, the still waters of the bay and the open sky made me think twice about going to the show, I have to admit.

I hopped on a surprisingly empty freeway, and pulled on to Sacramento. The 57 doesn't have any form of a sound system aside from the glasspacks, rattles, and wind, so I drove up nursing a coffee whistling to myself the iPod playlist in my head. I got to Sacramento about a half hour before they opened the gate, so I sat in line and rolled through the HAMB on my phone, trying to see if anything new was going on around the show. Nothing was, and I pulled in at 11:00, parked alone on the side of the Suede Room and opened the booth. I got a few more shots of cars in the Suede room in the morning:

Another of Alex Gambino's chevy, it deserves it. I love the new paintjob and overall finished-ness of the car:

A shot of the rear of that custom Oldsmobile. Check out the roof scoop:

Friday was pretty slow. I never understood why they open these things at noon on Fridays; this is very much a blue collar crowd, and no one seems to show up until after 5 anyways. I took a few more pictures after closing, and headed home, alone. I drove like hell knowing that my wife would be waiting for me at home, and I made the drive in record time.

Saturday:

Saturday was the actual "drive-in" day, so when I rolled in at 8:30am I was both surprised and excited to see such a huge line to get in. I sat in a crowd of mostly street rods and what appeared to be the local "tri-five" chapter. My wife's 57, one of two running cars that we own, is definitely not a show car, and it's sure as hell not a rat-rod; it's a mild custom daily driver with a tip of the hat towards the late sixties, plain and simple. I felt a little out of place, and kept getting awkward looks from the other cars. I get the impression that a lot of people don't get having a daily driver; it's not here because I want to show it, I'm driving it because otherwise I'd be walking. Of course, it feels a lot better to participate in the show than to drive there then park across the street, and even if the car isn't a show car I still take pride in it. Once the line got moving, I parked in the same spot next to the suede room, glad that the car didn't boil over in the slow movement of the drive-in line. I only took a few pictures of the Drive-in because once I got there, it was time to throw it together and work.

Some cars rolling in:

I think there are more Edsel Taillights rolling around on customs than there ever were on stock Edsels. I love it.

The front of that Ranchero:

The show went pretty well, this car world that we live in is full of some of the best people on the planet; they'd make you feel at home on the moon if there were a car show there. I had a good time, and thank you to everyone who stopped by and said "Hello", it really breaks the monotony of being on your feet all day working. I took a few more shots at the end of the show, and headed out. The drive home was pretty uneventful, but I had a lot of time to myself to reflect.

Blessed Mother Protect Us:

This weekend made me come to a few conclusions: I really enjoy indoor car shows. There is a feeling of purpose and place in history, and I really appreciate it when people take the time to set up a display. I could care less about awards, but I love that they date and stamp our world with who did what which year; without awards we might forget truly amazing cars from years past. The show really seemed down this year, but I suppose anything would after GNRS. At the same time, I was inspired by the cars that did show up, and I'm afraid if there isn't more people willing to show their cars up North that we might lose what is one of the last great Northern California indoor car shows. Northern California's indoor show history is long and rich, but it's not stable. We've already lost so many great shows up here, I would hate to see this one go the way of the Rod & Custom Show.

Also, I learned the 5-Hour Energy drink's claims are widely exaggerated. Why on earth would you not only quantify your claims as a product, but make said claim a part of the name of your product? It's so fallible; they should just follow Rockstar and Monster's examples and make only strange and nebulous promises of product performance. I also realized how lucky I am to be able to work with my wife, who I love more than anything in the world; without her I'm only half a person. And I am so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing, hard-working, and downright "cool" Mother-in-Law. Also I'm glad that I don't have to commute regularly to Sacramento, that drive really sucks the life out of you.

I had the day off on Sunday, well sort of off; my Mother-in-Law and her brother drove up to finish the show while Josie and I held down the Berkeley store. I didn't see who won what award, but to be honest, I don't really care.

Thanks for reading, and thank you so much to everyone who put on the show, and an extra thanks to everyone who came out and put a car in the show, without your participation there is no Sacramento Autorama. Thanks.

Can anyone tell it's raining?

-Nic

Show Coverage: GNRS 2011

2011-02-03T12:31:00.001-08:00

Pomona is always a great way to start off the show season. Everyone has had a few months to prep their car and square away all of the little details that they've been neglecting, and the fact that Pomona is a primarily an indoor show makes people step up their game just a little bit more.

For my wife and I, however, GNRS is a show that pushes us to our limits. We vend at car shows and run a shop for a living, so while everyone else has been taking time off and vacationing, we are just a few days off of our busiest time of year when it's time to take on Pomona. Wiped out of merch from Christmas, and with me in my first week classes, our trip to Pomona is always challenging, to say the least.

This year was no different. With two stores open now, we spent the few days before Pomona arranging someone to be at each shop, and stretched the little inventory that we had to fill each location.

I'll spare you the intricacies of our loading, because I'm sure that it's as boring to read as it is to write. I will add, however, that because I had class during the day and we had to pack between two shops that are about an hour apart, we weren't loaded up until 10:00 at night.

We left the Bay in a hurry to make it down I-5 to hopefully outrun our exhaustion and push on pure adrenaline from the prospect of a fantastic show. I had been following the coverage on the HAMB, and was psyched for the opportunity to see such an impressive collection of famous and historic cars all under one roof. Pushing on through the vacant Central California, we drove all night through 100' visibility fog at a snails pace to get to Southern California. We got on the 210 at about 3am on Thursday morning, and exhausted, we checked into our quaint hotel in Claremont, a few miles down the road. For those who do car shows for a living, the goal in finding a room is to be close enough to get into the show in the morning, but far enough out to be anonymous and away from the party. Staying at the host hotel might be fun for a few hours, but those of us who get up early to work the show the next day need just a little bit of solace.

We crashed in the room for a couple hours, then rolled out to the Fairplex around noon on Thursday to go set up. After a few SNAFU's in line, we made it into the show, got to our building, and set up the booth as we always do.

Suede Room: Set-Up day

After a few hours, I couldn't take it any more, I absolutely had to poke my head into the History of Customs building. Josie and I ran in the building, and I took a quick inventory of what was there: A Larry Watson tribute, a few bubble-topped Ed Roth cars, a few Barris customs, and a handful of neat but unfamiliar customs. Dazed and overwhelmed, we walked through the room, scanning as quick as we could for my all-time favorite custom car of all time- a radical early sixties custom 55 Buick known as "The Busonic".

The room was completely overwhelming. At any area of my vision were cars that I could drool over for literally hours at any other venue, but here, the sheer volume of amazing cars forced you to limit your vision to take in only a few things at a time. At any other show, just one of these cars would make it worth any price of admission, but here I found myself brushing off historically and autobiographically important cars to me to find The Busonic. This car stands alone for me. I love everything about it's history, it's evolution as a custom, and it's eventual restoration. I love it in the original Bronze, and I love it in it's 1964 lime green. This car fucked me up since I first saw it in a magazine when I was in High School, and cemented permanently my love of Custom cars. Seeing pictures of this car back then is why I'm here today, working on ridiculous builds and loving the hell out of it.

I'd recognize it anywhere. Cadillac Wire rims, Distinct Home-made Nerfs/Bumpers, Busonic Bronze, Metalflaked Scallops.

And there it was. Hood popped, doors opened, trunk popped. No ropes were up yet, and with the same caution an archaeologist would use entering a newfound tomb, I approached it. I was awestruck. A familiar face was standing in front of it, a man who I've seen around at cars hows for the past several years, and have only known as "Chico Von Spoon". He was taking a picture of it, and so was I. He said something along the lines of "Yeah, I don't normally take pictures of my own car." I laughed a little, thinking he was making a joke. I asked if he new much about it, and he said, "Yeah, a little. You ever see how the door poppers work?" and hooked up the battery cable.

Holy hell. He wasn't kidding; this was his car. I was dumbfounded. "Chico", or Jimmy, as he introduced himself, has owned the car since the late 90's. He was totally cool about showing off all it's little eccentricities, like the original custom interior, the micro-switches in the side trim, and he even hit the Hydraulics for me. Keep in mind, this is one of the first cars to ever to have hydraulics installed. I was awestruck, I couldn't really say much. He offered to let me come out to San Jose and see the car in person, so look forward to a proper write-up on this historic custom in a future article. I was amazed.

Detail Shot on the Wheel- They didn't let one inch of this car go unfinished.

Look at the spacing on the perforated steel. That's hand drilled, not machine punched:

I've always loved the headlights, those are one-off, not just some chrome bezel from another car. Every bit of this was thoughtout and well executed:

Fully Chromed Nailhead:

Still sporting the original custom interior from 1962, with real fur:

The tailfin exhaust is fully functional:

We were able to snap a couple of shots in the room. Like I said, it was completely overwhelming. Imagine you were starving, and all of a sudden you walked into a buffet full of your favorite foods; there would be no way to take it all in.

The Trendero. Another one of my favorites, in as-found condition:

The Watson display was incredible. It was crowded, so I didn't get too many pics

Coby's van was incredible. I felt a little intimidated to take pictures of it because I knew that no matter what Coby would have better shots of it. For anyone unfamiliar, please click the Church magazine link on the side, it's a work of art:

Keeping on the "Van" theme, this awesome vendor's vehicle was parked outside the building:

Setup day came and went, I walked about in a daze after seeing my all-time favorite car in person. We went back to the hotel, starving from not eating at the fairgrounds all day. I went to a grocery store, and came back to the room to find a refrigerator only; no microwave, toaster, or any way to heat the frozen food that I bought. We improvised, and I had a veggie burger cooked on the room's iron. It turned out way better than one would think. If you find yourself ironing your pants in a Claremont hotel room someday and they end up smelling like Boca burger, now you know why.

One of the highlights of the show, the premiere of RJ Diaz's Riviera "The Mothership". Amazing candy work by the LBCC's Alex Valdez.

I loved the scallops on this 55 Chevy:

Who says they need to be street rodded to be cool?

Sweet Dodge:

Another highlight was Eryk Frias's amazing 1967 Oldsmobile Cutlass, "Hush Hush". Another breathtaking Alex Valdez paintjob. Eryk runs the LBCC message board, if you're not on it, check out the link on the side and do so.

Show pipes, candy panels, and Rockets. If this doesn't get you excited check your pulse:

Lots of flake in Building 5

While we were running the booth down in Pomona, Mike LaVella, the publisher of Gearhead magazine was running the Berkeley store for us up North. About half way through the day, he texted me a picture of himself hanging out with one of my closest childhood friends, so for the rest of the day I tried to one-up him by sending him pictures of me hanging out with his friends.

Me & Juan Espinoza, of Deadend Magazine:

And with Jesus:

And of course, I had to raise him Justice, one of the greatest kids in the world:

Josie had some fun harassing Vintage Klass

She joined it, raising the bar with Vern from the Burbank Choppers:

And then she put us all to shame with the dreaded "triple-up":

That's Scott Mugford of Blue Collar Customs, Von Franco, and Skoty Chops. Game over.

Jack Rudy recently did the awesome script logo for our shop, for which we will be forever grateful. We printed up some shirts with his logo, but made him a special "Beatnik Purple" shirt to say thank you. Jack is one of the nicest guys in the Tattoo world, and it is an absolute honor to have his art a part of our shop.

After the show, it was back to the hotel, I ate another "iron burger" and crashed on the bed, exhausted.

Saturday was great, there were even more cars there at the Drive-in portion of the show, but bound to our booth I didn't get to see much of it.

After the twelve hour show day on Saturday, Josie was beat.

I took her back to the hotel room, and I headed out into night to go meet up with some friends for a BBQ/after party. Goozgaz, the President of the Los Boulevardos Car Club, hosted in his backyard in El Monte, and it was a great time. I'm always amazed by the quality of the people that this car "scene" draws in. My sides still hurt from laughing, and while I didn't take many pictures from the BBQ, the few that I did are priceless. Bretto, from Canada, decided to mark his trip to LA permanently on his ankle, and a very drunk Stoney apparently decided he was up to do it, prison style in Gooz's garage.

The LA tattoo turned out better than one might think. In exchange, Stoney decided it was only fair to have Bretto tattoo him back, and someone, Eryk I believe, convinced him that getting a Maple leaf would make sense. Stoney said do it, and here's the result:

Everyone would stop in and check the progress of the prison ink and drop their best insult/joke, leave and refuel, then come back to fire again. My personal favorite:

"Dude, is he really doing it?"
"Yeah man, they just started."
"What's he getting?"
"Staph infection."

I had a blast, these guys are the best. I got back to the hotel around 12:30am, and woke up at 8am the next day to return to the show. Sunday is always slow, Awards in the Suede room (where we're at) are Saturday, so things die out in our building pretty early. As it turns out, Albert Hammond was wrong, and it rained pretty heavily on Sunday. We snuck in a couple more shots as the day went on, but not a hell of a lot. I have a ton of respect for anyone who has the guts to show their car in the rain, so these guys deserve all the credit for sticking it out.

Here's some random shots from Sunday:

Dig the striping on this Galaxie wagon:

This was on the wall of the Womens room. I hope it was a joke:

We packed up at around 6pm, and eventually I lined up at the gate to pull in. If if wasn't raining, I would have hand-trucked our stuff out to the parking lot, but wanting to keep our merch sellable, I waited. The thing that sucks the most about this show is move out on the last day. It's a predominantly indoor show, and there are a TON of inclosed trailers that want to get in and pick up their car, so we all have to wait together. It's always a clusterfuck, and I'm suprised that no one has ran down a security guard yet. I waited for about an hour in line to get in, and finally things got moving. I had thought I was in a parking lot, but once my line started moving, all of the other vans/truck in the "lot" fired up and started moving too.

We packed it all up and were out of there by about 9:30, back on the road to get home to the East Bay. I drove like a bat out of hell, well, at least like a bat out of hell might in a fully loaded cargo van. I fucked up my voice screaming through our AFI playlist, and was goddamn happy at 3 when we rolled down the Altamont. There's nothing quite like the warm glow of the Livermore Valley after a trying weekend in Southern California. We were back to Oakland around 4am, and I was up at 7:30am running to catch the BART train for school Monday morning.

I'd like to give a tremendous thank you to Axle and Celeste for putting our Suede building together, and to Luke Karosi for helping make the History of Customs display the SINGLE BEST collection of cars I have ever seen under one roof. An extra thanks and everyone from the Los Boulevardos Car club for being great people and awesome hosts at the after party, it's an honor to prospect for you guys. Last but not least, a tremendous and honest THANK YOU to Mike LaVella for being a stand-up guy and helping out while we were gone.

Thanks for reading.
-Nic

Blogozine relaunch

2011-02-02T12:07:00.001-08:00

I finally decided to clamp down and update this more regularly. Stay tuned for the relaunch!

- Posted from the road

a mobile blog post

2010-07-19T15:33:00.000-07:00

boulevardos board is down :(

vantastic

2009-12-29T18:27:00.000-08:00

livermore, ca

2009-08-08T17:24:00.001-07:00

before the storm...

2009-03-01T01:15:00.000-08:00

Rod & Custom show SF 2009

2009-02-25T18:15:00.001-08:00

waiting

2009-02-19T00:52:00.001-08:00

Winfield is the man!

2009-02-14T18:17:00.000-08:00

Check out the flipped axle on the "Rolling Lab". I was lucky enough to meet Gene at the Autorama, he's a super nice guy.

Sacramento Autorama 2009

2009-02-12T13:12:00.000-08:00

bad brains fucking rules

2009-01-31T18:17:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine called me a few weeks shit-faced in So-Cal outside of a Bad Brains show just to rub it in. Color me jealous, these guys rock HARD.

My freshman year in high school my water polo coach hooked me up with his mag-tape collection from the 80's, included in there was a rough bootleg tape (do you call it a bootleg for tapes?) of I Against I on one side, with Black Flag's DAMAGED on the other. I used to shred through the neighborhood on my homemade longboard with red kryptos nearly bleeding from the ears with that tape at max volume in my walkman. Good times, good times, thanks for taking me back

grand national roadster show twothousandandnine

2009-01-29T11:19:00.000-08:00

way too much work

2009-01-13T20:02:00.001-08:00

last of 2008

2009-01-08T02:16:00.000-08:00

best of 2008

2009-01-05T02:11:00.000-08:00

we are forming...

2009-01-05T02:01:00.000-08:00