Three Words

Three words that make me laugh out loud.

"NASCAR Competition Yellow".

HA HAHA hahaha!

What the heck for anyway? Like they need to throw a mandatory yellow! The "Best Drivers In The World" would, as usual, take care of producing plenty of caution periods during the Brickhead 400 at Indy yesterday, giving the "Doc" and crew ample time to rattle innane bullshit tripe non-information, and for ESPN to show that intro footage of bricks being made. Over and over and over again. Damn, I wish I could see that a couple more thousand times.

Yep, eight more times after the "NASCAR Competition Yellow" did the caution wave. For thirty-six laps total, almost one-fourth of the race distance. Ninety miles of caution. I'll say that again, ninety miles of caution. Sheesh.

Actually, only seven of the nine (NINE!) total cautions on the day can be attributed to the "drivers". One caution was caused by NASCAR, pure and simple. Which one? Well, NASCAR makes a big deal about touting that they've got an official in each pit, to keep an eye on the crews and for safety. The official in Jimmie Johnson's pit and the rest of NASCAR caused his second accident of the afternoon, and of course another caution.

The official in his pit is partly to blame because he observed the crap repairs that Johnson's crew did to the car, and then he allowed him out of his pit and back onto the racing surface. The rest of the NASCAR observers are to blame because on the caution laps during the clean-up of Johnson's first crash all the "racers tape" repair patches applied by his crew blew off (not a good sign, can you say "debris on the track"?).

Then, under the 1st two laps of green after the re-start his right front fender bodywork was obviously rubbing the tire at speed, hell even Doctor Jerry Punchdrunk could see it.

A. Did NASCAR contact his crew by radio and suggest he get the hell off the race track? Nope.

B. Did NASCAR contact that ubiquitous NASCAR official in Johnson's pit and suggest that he suggest to the crew to contact Johnson via radio and suggest that he get the hell off the track? No.

C. Did they show him the meat-ball flag. Uh, no again.

Bang, into the wall goes the #48 car, and then totally out of control, much like a flaming Miami drag-queen, he goes down across the racing line, miraculously avoided by the rest of the on-coming traffic. Good job NASCAR!

Ooh, speaking of flaming, is Kevin Harvick going for the Lindsay Lohan goofy bitch award? Does NASCAR have that? Today I loved reading the reports of him leading the press on a chase around the infield in golf carts at Indy (hahahaha!) because he was just sooo upset, and just couldn't talk right now. He was upset that he had bumped Tony Stewart, and that it had mucked up his aerodynamics. Or maybe, he was upset because Tony let him bump into him just so it would screw up Kevins aeros. Or that he had bumped Tony, or, man I never did really get it. Not that Tony Stewart and Nicole Ritchie don't often seem like twins.....or is that Paris?

Let me say publicly that I only watch NASCRAP while completely vegetating, purely for the entertainment, and certainly not for any racing action. Viewing occasionally only to see what stoopidity they might come up with next, kind of the same way that one might watch the WWF, their sporting twin.....and boy, they sure didn't disappoint me at Indy. Sorry for the rant.

Oh yeah, two more words that make me hyperventilate with laughter when I hear them, "The Chase".

HA HAHA hahahahahaha HA HAHAHA ahahahaha!

OXYGEN please!

Rabbit Ears

Yep, Rabbit Ears for Sam.

Why all over the world do people do this? I mean, I'm standing there with my Dad checking out the cockpit of the Sneaky Pete race truck at the Great Race and my buddy Jeff yells "Smile!". I instantly go for Rabbit Ears for Sam, I didn't even think a thing about it, just flashed to Rabbit Ears. What the hell?

All in all, it would've been a really nice picture of me and my Dad, 'cept of course for those damned Rabbit Ears.....

Thanks to J. M. for the foto
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7/23

Man, how I love driving through Nash-Vegas down-town traffic.

On Friday evening me and the Guru (yeah, I know that should be the Guru and I, in another life I was an english major and I knew better, fucking sue me) headed east toward the Knox-Vegas area to crash for the evening at the Nubsters. Then on Saturday morning we all continued on to Greeneville to work on the preparations of the ITSA trial for Sunday August 19th.

Friday evening going through Nashville toward the east there was a total I-40 melt-down at Stewarts Ferry that netted us an easy plus one and one-half hour detour around whatever the particular discrection at that time was. We still don't know.....

The next day, on the flip-flop Saturday evening going west near the Fessler's Lane exit in five lanes of traffic everybody bowed up for this poor bastard, whose construction type pick-up truck had decided to self-blaze itself into oblivion. Luckily enough for us we got there just as dude had bailed from the inferno and we were not delayed more than a couple of minutes. The rest of the folks behind us I'm afraid did not fare so well, much less the cat that stood and watched his shit torch to the ground.....

Man, how I love driving through Nash-Vegas down-town traffic. Not.

M R Ducks

Ya' ever heard that old joke.....M R Ducks....M R not Ducks.....M R 2 ducks.....?

Actually M R 4 ducks, down from the original 7 ducks. They somehow lost their Ma and then they ended up at the Ranch to finish their raising process. They eventually got their stuff together one by one and flew off alone a day or so apart. Sometimes they'd come back for a day or so, hang out, and then head out again for good. We're down to one now, but he (she?) has a mucked up right wing and may well be a Ranch yard duck slash mascot.

Oh, Peggy Sue.....

This is Peggy Sue. I did not name her. I do not name guitars. I've been known to talk to them, but I do not name them. Nor do I name motorbikes. Cars, maybe.....

Peggy Sue's been here at the Old Dick P.O. for a couple of weeks of R & R. She now has a sweet hand-rolled neck, rubbed in with tung oil, dressed frets, a new set of D'Addario Electric Half-Round 310 jazz strings, adjusted electrics, and a major intonation job. She is a certified rocker at this point. Plays hard and stays in tune and everything.

She's gonna' go home tomorrow with The Captain and after that, it's all up to him. Check him out at a campfire near you.....

Intimidated

Imtimidated. Yep, Intimidated. Looked me right in the eye and intimidated me no end.

Sure, everybody knows that an Owl can spin their head almost all the way around just like Regan in The Exorsist. But, did you know that a Hoot Owl can blink both eyes independently and also move them and focus them independently? I didn't, until yesterday.....and boy, did it trip me out for a minute.
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God, I love crossing the Mississippi. Over and over and over again.....It always makes me feel as if I've just done something special.

More Straight Eight

Straight Eight Special

From what I understand, the folks that are driving the open cars in The Great Race encountered some problems on Tuesday outside of Albuquerque when they were forced to drive through a monsoon that included some rather large hail. There were some dents, some busted radiators, and a few bruises and fat lips.....

This is a Buick Straight Eight Special Indy Car from the early 1930's. It makes a pretty wicked sound.
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Not My MeMaw Alsup's Buick.....

My Grandma on my mom's side had the absolute Buick boat from hell. It was a freaking huge powder blue 1955 thing that probably could've seated a couple more folks than my Astro van, and it must've weighed three tons. As a small urchin I used to love to go for a ride in the beast. She was a kinda' frail lady but she didn't take any crap off of the big Buick!

As Usual.....

Sam, as usual, getting right to the heart of the matter. I promise I have pictures of other vehicles, but this one is just an amazing piece of gear.

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Sneaky Pete

A lowered, chopped and channeled 1962 Peterbilt hot rod.....

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Teaser Rod

The Great American Race stopped in Nashville last night at The Lane Motor Museum . We were there to investigate, and on Tuesday and Wednesday Sam and I will infiltrate the ranks whilst on our motorbikes.

About the rod. Can you say Rolls Royce/Allison V-12 tank engine? 1790 cubic inches.....1200 horsepower.....1600 foot pounds of torque (yikes!)..... and 2 miles to the gallon! This is easily the most outrageous thing I've seen in some time.

More to come.....on this and other rods from The Great Race, and also from the week-end car show at Titans Stadium.

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Hubcap Reflections