Sunday, December 07, 2008

December 7, 1941


My father's first ship duty after graduation from the Naval Academy in 1939:

The USS West Virginia

Picture 1 under her own power, San Francisco Bay, Ca

Picture 2 the morning of December 7th, The USS West Virginia and the USS Tennessee; the horrible smoke to the right of the USS West Virginia is the USS Arizona, sunk to the harbor floor, split in two, and burning, she is a total loss, ship and crew.

Luckily my Dad wasn't aboard when the bombs fell and the torpedoes struck his ship

He and my mother were just married and lived in downtown Honolulu

He was awakened by the roar of plane engines

Upon looking out the apartment window he realized he was seeing enemy planes bombing the harbor

He immediately went to his ship

She had already sunk to rest on the floor of the harbor

He was missing for three days while the harbor waited for another attack

My mother assisted with helping as best as she could.

Their Polynesian romance in Hawaii ended.

Dad was moved to the USS Pennsylvania which was not severely damaged and set out to sea

Mother returned to her parents home in Hollywood


To me, this is a special day, many, many thoughts.



About 1958 my family is stationed in Hawaii and my dad (still in the Navy) took a small USN boat manned by a couple of sailors and we (dad, two brothers, and me) cruised out to the remains of the USS Arizona. Dad was in his Navy uniform. At the time there was no memorial, just the USS Arizona. The oil slick oozed from inside of the ship and the the gun turrets were above the water. I truly will never forget what I saw under the water. I will never forget the look on my dad's face. It was a tough moment for us all, including the two young sailors.



My dad 1941, front row, 4th from the left. He is 26 years old in this photo. Still a youngster like all of them.

Monday, December 01, 2008


Aye, listen up ya tiki sand diggers, fer all me trusty piratey bucaneers I have a cheat sheet fer sharing...feast yor eyes to this pirate site so's ya can practice to the lore and even shop fer attire. ;-) Ahar!
and thars more pirate stuff to be seen!

Jamblogging



This isn't the best looking picture cuz it's very old and it's been scanned but the memories are there! The handsome guy with the tie that looks like me is my dad, the kids on the floor are me (making a face as usual), my "older" cousin, and my older brother...the people on the couch are (L-R) my Grandpa, Aunt Ethyl (she was so funny!!), Grandpa's 2nd wife Stella (Grandma passed away suddenly from a stroke in the 40's), my aunt Rosina and Uncle Hubert, dad's brother. My family and I are visiting Ohio as we drove across country from DC to California (Dad was in the Navy-we moved alot). All the adults (even Grandpa, Stella, and Aunt Ethyl) have a cocktail (like manhattens) and we were all having a really fun time. They even laughed at my goofy kid faces. I think my mother is taking the picture. Grandpa was a great fisherman from Ohio. It about 1960! Only the three kids on the floor are still livin it up.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

A Happy Tiki Thanksgiving to my ~loyal tiki sand digger~, Salsa yalsa sista n lua!

Monday, November 24, 2008

Where do the months go? I can't believe that the days just keep marching by. This last weekend was the anniversary of JFK's assasination. I remember it well. Last week was my birthday and the week before was my wife's birthday. Now we approach Thanksgiving. There's been lots of talk about turkey and stuffing but I have been thinking about "thanksgiving". I have so much to be thankful for. I have a great family. I have two very interesting and different children and they are both a chip off the old block. I have a great wife who is the absolute best a guy could ask for. I have great in-laws. I live in a great community. I have really awesome bikes, trains, cars and tools. I have an immense amount of incredible memories including a BFF, friends, people, a sailing trip to Mexico, High school, college, Disneyland trips, navy memories, family memories, trips to Hawaii with loved ones, feats, sightseeing, and the list goes on and on. The next big day for me is December 7th. My parents were there and I'm really thankful that they both lived to tell the story. Check out their story written by me USS West Virginia

Friday, October 03, 2008

circa 1972-73
!Genuine proof I had long hair!
~So was I a genuine hippie, didn't believe in war, believed in love, still do~
Pax Vobiscum

Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair
So everyone knows, I think, that I grew up being a cowboy as much as I could. Some of the famous ones were my heroes and still are. One was Paul Newman. Have a cowboy moment from youtube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31aETl1BESU

Monday, September 15, 2008

sad day...
somebody i love is hurting,
and there's nothing I can do.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Sitting at my desk and just pondering. I have thoughts, many thoughts. Wish I could have been an actor. I like to entertain. I love standing ovations. Many of my tears have been shed at standing ovations for plays I've done. I love plays even when I'm not in them. I'm enchanted when entertained by hard working actors. Theaters embrace me and give me joy. I would love to work at a theater for the arts.
I might have been a cowboy once. I love horses, leather, boots, and the west. I almost feel as if I have ridden horses and camped among the best of cowboys and native Americans. Some of my best heroes are cowboys. Like Michael Landon. I know he wasn't a true cowboy but he was an inspiration to me and as a kid I emulated him. Roy Rogers was one of the best. A cowboy gentleman with a great lady by his side. My favorite movie is "Tombstone". Kurt Russell played Wyatt Earp with true dignity. Watch it sometime, ignore the nonsense and enjoy good acting.
Art deco, I want it in the house and the car. Where's my rat pack bar?
Polynesia, it's always there to please ya.
Friends and friends and more friends, they run with the trends.
Love, there's never enough.
Comfort, everyone needs it.
Give and you shall receive (maybe)
Waste not want not.
Can't wait for another good movie, you know, the ones that make you warm all over and cleanse your eyes of uneeded tears.
It's sad to be alone yet that's when you get the most accomplished, like now.
Mermaids, if only they were real, but it is a good movie with great acting. Maybe my daughter will let me watch it with her.
"Apollo13", dang, this is what is "the right stuff", amazing movie of how it was then. Bravo Tom!
"Man in the Moon" with Reese, I love this movie (not the end). Such a touching movie about young love. Sometimes it really hurts.
Last but not least "Under the Tuscan Sun", touching, soothing, and entertaining with bread, cheese, and a good glass of wine.
Enough, I'm done.
Adios!

Friday, August 15, 2008

Elvis Aron Presley, born January 8, 1935 Tupelo, Mississippi; died August 16, 1977 Graceland, Mississippi, He was 42 years old.
Elvis, you amazed us. Such energy and charisma, sad songs, happy songs, playful songs, love songs and dance all your own. Concerts like no others, Las Vegas, Priscilla, great movies, your mom, a pink Cadillac and even the Army. Your an icon, a legend, and an American. You did it all. You gave rock and roll a burst and at warp speed. You gave us Elvis, yet you were just one of us, just a guy. All the same stuff, feelings, emotions, daily life, a drive to be good, and personality. We miss you good buddy. You're like apple pie and America, the only difference, we can always have apple pie whenever we want.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Recently I visited the Grand Canyon and the red rock mountains of Arizona. The majestic beauty created over billions of years of this awesome planet churned about in my mind. I felt so amazed at what I saw in the Grand Canyon. There have been so many millions of visitors to this incredible place. I was there when I was about age 7 and nothing had changed to me. I remembered the mountain lodge and the Hopi house, both built in 1905. The Native Americans were performing dances in the same location as they did 48 years ago. I began to think about it all. I saw rocks painted red by the earth. No two mountains were the same, the landscape was breathtaking, and the geological wonders were stunning. The thunderstorms were awesome and entertaining. Each cactus had a personality that was all it’s own. Hawks and ravens hovered all around. The air was fresh and fragrant. The Grand Canyon gave a perspective of beauty that inspired me to bring my existence into focus. Post cards cannot convey the forces of earth displayed in this immense canyon. In the background I heard the dances of the Native American dancers. The stage was alive during my visit and the act was just like I thought, inspiring, amazing, and thought provoking. I was so happy to share this amazing Arizona experience with all around me.
OK, turn my playlist off, go to the bottom of this blog, see Suzanne Vega and start the song, her music is so awesome...crank the speakers, start dancing, listen to the lyrics. It might just make you forget your troubles today. You may play it twice. I do.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

This post is for Rhonda and her cat Rascal who needs special care. Refer to this site for an article written by a Franciscan priest and some reflection on our furry friends like Rascal who really depend on us: Blessing of the Animals (Yes, I know it's a Catholic site but like JAM says: if it's about anything that promotes goodness and peace then it's OK)

Monday, June 30, 2008

Ok this is nutty but this robot is my favorite all time robot. Remember the TV icon "Lost in Space"? Remember the Robinson's robot assistant, Robot B9? We could all use one of these robots to give us a hand and some non human advice. Now you can own one! Click on the link. I'll take two, one for home and one for work.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

In keeping with my Tiki theme I feel it's about time to share a Hawaiian story for all my Tiki loving bruddas and sistas. When I was a kid (kindergarten and the first grade) I lived on a Navy Base in Pearl Harbor, Honolulu, Hawaii. I can remember it well because it was amazing. We lived in Navy housing, a duplex, on the top of a dead volcano crater called Makalapa. Living amongst us were huge banana trees and hibiscus plants. I can remember the banana trees because when I wanted a banana my mother would simply say, "go in the back yard and pick a few". The weirdest slimiest creature that hopped around was an enormous frog called a Bufo frog. They were huge and ominus, made a splat sound as they hit the asphalt, and were only around at night or early morning. They were always getting run over by the cars and becoming pancakes. Living in the Hawaiian atmosphere is so much different than visiting for a week. Life and the people are so tropical and fun. Rain is fun to run in and it's warm! In the mid 1950's, the Navy Base at Pearl Harbor was filled with every size ship you can imagine, from Navy tug boats to huge aircraft carriers filled with aircraft. It was bustling with naval movement. All the Navy personnel casually wore kacky short sleeve shirts. Military service life was really kick back and relaxed at the time. At the east end of the harbor, the rusting bases of the gun turrets of the mighty battleship, USS Arizona, were very prominate above the waters of the harbor. A memorial had not been built at that time. Old and forgotten bomb shelters were scattered around the base. They were locked up but they were very spooky and full of tropical spiders. Downtown Honolulu was a great place to roam, shop, listen to local music of da kine (the local Hawaiians), and see beautiful hawaiian girls show us the Hula. You could enjoy raw sugar from the cane sold at the markets. Strolling Hawaiian kamaainas made hats and tropical birds out of palm tree fronds. As a family, we would visit the beach on weekends. I remember the waves being so high and the local surfers riding the waves like they were gods of the wind. Their surf boards were long and sleek, made of wood. The surfers were so tan and buffed. Everyone was so friendly and so very relaxed. I think my parents went to a tropical luau almost every other weekend. My Makuahine (Mother) had a moo moo and my Makua kane (Dad) an Aloha shirt for every occasion. Dad would shimmy up the palm trees, knock down coconuts, split them open, and give us the raw cococnut. He would make pupus (hors d'oeuvres) on a hibachi pot in the back yard. The experience for me was absolutely unforgettable and I learned so much about Hawaii and it's culture. Today I share these memories with my 'Ohana (my family) because to us Hawaii is so much more than a vacation spot. We enjoy the beauty of the islands, the culture, the people, the food, the music, the luau's and the Aloha spirit of the islands.

Kipa hou mai (Come visit again).
Aloha,
Kimo

Kimo's favorite hawaiian cocktail:

BLUE HAWAII

1 oz light rum

2 oz pineapple juice

1 oz Blue Curacao

1 oz Cream of coconut

1 slice pineapple
1 cherry

Blend light rum, blue curacao, pineapple juice, and cream of coconut with one cup of ice in an electric blender at high speed. Pour contents into a highball glass. Decorate with the slice of pineapple and a cherry.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

"Beachy Keen"
a tip of a wave slides beneath the feet
wet sand drifts between naked toes
salt spray mists the face
sand crabs probe the surface
sea mist cools skin
sea gulls dive at roaring waves
wind blows speckles of sand
dogs bark at sounds
pelicans skim the sea surface
lone surfers dash in wave tunnels
sails are wind blown
footprints in the sand
sandcastles dot the seas edge
sea shells catch in the sand

Friday, June 13, 2008

My dad, 1980

Please click on "On My Father's Wings" in my song list sung by The Corrs who are a Celtic folk rock group from Dundalk, Ireland...Maybe listen to the songs lyrics first, think about your father and then after that, read my post.

(The irish song is a tribute to my father who was part Irish and so am I, go Irish!)

Father’s Day!

It’s always one of my favorite celebrated days. I am a member of the father brigade. I always wanted to be a dad. I was naive when I daydreamed about fatherhood as a kid. I didn’t know just how much emotional input is required, the total rebirth of your personality traits, the death of your youngster coolness, and the tremendous capacity of the responsibility to the life you create. At some point in my parental career, I began to examine the trueness of the word “parent”. My own two parents suddenly came into focus and I realized that they weren’t these demagogues or fearless leaders. They were both kids at one time who grew up, fell in love, got married, and took on the responsibility of parenthood as I have done. They were just people. They had fears. They had inadequacies. They had no training at raising kids. They had faults. I remember being a teen and carefully examining their faults and persecuting them for there trespasses against me. Having my own children taught me something. Forgive the parents for their faults and honor them for giving me the best they could give given the tools they had inherited or had at hand. Yes it could have been better but it could have been worse too. I am thankful.

So this brings this post to Father’s Day. I had an amazing dad. I would never in a million years trade him for another. My dad left this wonderful earth nineteen years ago. I still love him to this day. When 911 occurred there was an immense amount of heroes that America honored. Through all these tributes I could think of no one but my father. I had been blessed with a hero in my presence but I never knew the meaning until 911 occurred.

My father attended the Naval Academy and graduated in 1939. The Nazi’s were in the process of crushing Europe at the time and they were headed for world domination. After graduation dad was sent to one of the big battleships, the USS West Virginia. Please check out http://www.usswestvirginia.com/. The morning of December 7, 1941 while the West Virginia was moored in Pearl Harbor, Oahu the Japanese unleashed there master plan to sink the American naval fleet at Pearl Harbor. The West Virginia was torpedoed and bombed. She sank and settled on the harbor floor, on fire with water 2 feet or more water above the main deck. My father was at the ship that morning and witnessed the death of the ship’s captain, several crew members, and he could do nothing for the burning ship. Fortunately my dad was not seriously injured but it did scar his memory forever. He spoke very little of the attack or the terrible days that followed the attack.

Several years later during the Korean conflict my dad became the captain of his own Navy ship, the USS Stephen Potter, a Destroyer of the Fletcher Class for those that know that info. He gallantly took the ship and his crew into communist infested waters and successfully bombed several enemy ammunition dumps which allowed US land based troops to move into the front lines with an advantage. The ship escaped with no harm to the ship or crew. The Navy gave him the Bronze Star for his actions.

I was lucky to get a really good dad. Amongst all the gold stars and stripes he wore on his uniform, he was always just dad to me. Everyone liked him. He was smart. He was well educated. He was a lifetime naval officer. He was funny. He was dashing and charming. He was kind and loyal. He was a hard worker. He was a patriot and a true American. He was doer. He was a fisherman, a golfer, and loved fine cars. He was a good cook. He loved to watch television. He loved his workshop. He could fix anything. He loved my mother. He loved family. He loved his kids. He loved his daughter-in-laws. He loved his grand kids. He loved the animals. He grew awesome tomatoes. He was a great swimmer.

But above all, he was my dad. He gave me a great childhood and a great adulthood. I absolutely love my dad and even though he’s gone I think about him everyday and I am thankful he was chosen to be my dad.
I miss you Dad!

Fathers I would like to pay tribute to:

My uncles, Bob (Navy hero WWII), Hubert, Richard (Army hero WWII), & Bill (Navy hero WWII)

My brother, Tom

My wife's father, Frank

My friends dad, Alex Sr.; truly a second dad and another naval hero (WWII)

Monday, June 09, 2008

Junior prom March 8, 1969


~Suggested music listening in my songlist: The Windmills Of Your Mind by Dusty Springfield (1968)~

In the spring of 1969 I attended my very first "official" prom (I had attended other formals). It was the junior prom at De La Salle High School, the local Christian Brothers private high school. I asked a girl from Carondelet High School, the catholic "all girls" private school across the street. She was a sophomore girl named Kathy who I had a big crush on. It wasn't a crush because she was a really cute girl (although she was cute), it was a crush because she was so fun and energetic. She had a great smile and never said a bad word about anyone or anything. As a matter of fact, everyone liked her and she was so fun to be around. The evening of the junior prom was absolutely amazing. We doubled dated with Mark and Lisa. They were a really fun couple and Mark was a really good and everyday friend of mine. Lisa had a crush on Mark. I was able to use my parents 1964 Buick convertible for the evening. It was a sleek and long car, perfect for a double date. I had the responsibility of obtaining adult beverages for the evening so of course I got a big bottle of champagne, what else? Nothing but the best. I picked Kathy up and she was just so damn cute in her prom dress. She was so proud of her "beauty parlor" hair which was up in some sort of bee hive or something. We picked up Lisa and ventured to the Oakland estuary for a bay view dinner at a seafood restaurant named after a famous Navy submarine. The girls and Mark had a great time. I did too! Next we went back to Walnut Creek to enjoy the prom evening. I looked forward to many slow dances and lots of laughs. I had proclaimed early at the start of the evening that the champagne had to be consumed when we were parked at the prom. No drinking and driving! So that's exactly what we did. I parked and popped the bottle open. I can't remember whether we had glasses or not but heck, would we care at that age? The bottle was finished in no time and we were giggling away our cares. We walked up to the prom building and as we walked up a flight of stairs to enter the prom, I was amazed that all the girls were dressed so elegant. I hate to say it but the guys looked outstanding too. Here we were all dressed up like the parties our parents went to, I was so amazed. The evening went without a hitch and Kathy and I danced every dance, all evening. I got lucky, she danced pretty close in those slow dances. I must say that I will never forget that evening, it was so Cinderella like and I spent my first prom with three very amazing people who made life perfect. On May 16th of this year Kathy left this earth from natural causes at the tender age of 54. Although I haven't seen Kathy in 38 years, she has touched my soul forever. Mark ventured to the other side in the early seventies from a tragic motorcycle accident. This was a total shock to me. I never stop thinking of his life and his inner beauty. Mark has touched my soul forever. Mark and Kathy are gone now but the memories and the story will live on. Long live the good people! The picture above is the prom photo of Kathy and I.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

So I decided to do some studies on St. Francis. Actually he's an amazing guy, more than the birds and animals stories. If you have a moment to reflect on someone else's life 800 years ago then read his story. I'll warn you, it's long and some of the words are old school but the story is amazing. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/06221a.htm
I would claim that Francis of Assisi was the first hippie, a true believer in peace on earth and with all.
Read the following notes written by a Franciscan Friar based upon the life of St. Francis. So basic yet so important.

1. Focus on people’s good points. Tell all with whom you come into contact the good things you see in them.
2. Develop a positive approach toward life. Compliment more than you criticize.
3. Build a climate of trust and support in all your relationships. Cooperate with others instead of competing with them.
4. Use gentle, loving, respectful language dealing with others. They won’t hear your words if you’re too busy dodging your sharp tongue.
5. Take a genuine interest in the work and activities of others. Make a point to ask about new projects.
6. Listen patiently, with your heart, when others are talking. It’s Christlike to put aside one’s own interests for the love of another.
7. Learn how to refuse with a smile. If you have to say "no" to something, do it respectfully.
8. Put the devil of jealousy far behind you. Deal with your personal insecurities in some other ways, but don’t put others down to make yourself look better.
9. Be loyal. Never allow yourself to tear down the kingdom of God by destructive, behind-the-back criticism of others.
10. Do extra little things that are nobody’s job. Be generous by volunteering—especially for the jobs for which there is no great reward.
*Putting these all together is another way of being an instrument of peace in the manner of St. Francis of Assisi. Let us learn to tame too what is wild and violent within ourselves and the world around us.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

This famous house was located at what famous place?
You must name the location, the land, the years the house existed, and who originally built the home.
The mountain in the background is a hint.
Have fun kids!










When I was a teen, Ed "Big Daddy" Roth made a big impression on me. His wild art, his amazing custom cars, and the "Big Daddy" Revell model cars were such a dramatic outside force that shaped me as an automotive thinker. "Rat Fink" was drawn all over our Peachee folders and we all tried to mimic his art, his look, and his go-t. I have had the pleasure of seeing his custom rods at custom car shows in Washington, D.C. and in California. The following article is from Hemmings Motor News (hope they don't mind) just to pass the word on to you. Live on, big Daddio!

There are many people born with a talent so great it takes them to the top of whatever profession they choose. To have multiple talents and use them to the fullest is an achievement many of us can only dream about. Not for Ed Roth. In fact, it was serendipitous where and when he grew up.
Born in 1932 to German immigrant parents in Beverly Hills, California, Roth and his family soon moved south to Bell, California, where at an early age he demonstrated both mechanical and artistic aptitude. About the same time, hot rodding was in its infancy in Southern California and as fate would have it, Roth would become a major factor in that movement.

If there was anything to do with tools, Roth wanted to be part of it. Roth began collecting electrical things, radios, tubes, resistors, anything dealing with electricity, and studied them. He learned welding as a teenager and in high school took a deep interest in art. He soon began drawing posters and cartoons. Roth also had a wild personality that drew in anyone who met him.
After high school, in 1951, Roth joined the Air Force and was shipped to Morocco. He made extra money lettering fellow soldiers' names on their duffel bags and cutting hair. After the service, he settled with new wife, Sally, near Los Angeles and began to earn a meager living pin-striping bicycles, wagons, cars, just about anything with wheels on it, in his driveway.

In order to put food on the table, Roth needed more income, so he took a job at Sears and Roebuck making displays and dressing windows. After finishing work at Sears, he'd run down to his one-car garage and pinstripe for the rest of the night. There were only a few pinstriping shops at the time and all charged more than Roth. He put a sign out front "Complete Car - $4."

His wild artwork, which has become his trademark, began when the Drag Wagons, a local car club, wanted some T-shirts made up. Roth began airbrushing not just the Drag Wagons logo, but a caricature of each member and his car. By happenstance, a magazine photographer took a photo of one of the members leaning over into his Model A and published the photo. The magazine was inundated with letters wanting to know who made the shirts. Always one to recognize a lucrative business opportunity, Roth began selling "Weird-O Shirts" at $4.50 each.

Roth grew intense in his quest to design, fabricate and build the wildest custom cars. In fact, he built one per year for 10 consecutive years. All told, Roth built more than 40 specialty cars, and the futuristic vehicles appeared in movies and on magazine covers. He built the original Beatnik Bandit in 1960, and it was hailed by contemporary writers as the "Hot Rod of the Future." Now restored, that car sits in the National Automobile Museum in Reno.

Roth's car-building skills were sometimes overshadowed by his colorful artwork. He is likely more known for his bulging, bloody-eyed, drooling characters such as "Rat Fink," a Roth trademark. At the genesis of counterculturism, Rat Fink was an underground response to the sanitized Mickey Mouse, and transcended car culture to become popular with teens regardless of their automotive interests. In retrospect, Roth's creation was a prelude to crudely drawn icons such as Bart Simpson, Ren and Stimpy and the kids from South Park.

How much Roth made from each model Revell sold has been argued, but one article after his death reported that he made a penny per kit. He got the nickname "Big Daddy" from a Revell model company official who reportedly told him, "You can't put 'Beatnik Bandit by Ed Roth'" on a model kit box, according to Pat Ganahl's book, Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth: His Life, Times, Cars and Art. In response, Roth told the Revell official he was called "Big Ed" in high school because of his 6-foot-4-inch frame. So, the Revell exec suggested "Big Daddy" and Roth loved it.

The 1960s were the Roth era. Starting with the "Outlaw," finished in 1959, Roth built a string of paradigm-shifting automobiles such as "Road Agent," "Mysterion," "Orbitron," and the "Druid Princess."

Most of his creations were eye candy, but even Roth called "Wishbone" ugly. It got its name from the frame design: two frame rails welded together down the center of the car and forked out in a wishbone shape at the rear, where it housed a Volkswagen engine. Roth fabricated his own intake manifold for this car and took off the fan and shrouding. The front of the car was half Ford and half VW.

Before the onslaught of custom motorcycle builders like Jesse James, Roger Bourget and Billy Lane, Roth was building wild bikes and three-wheelers, far different than anything the modern-day builders roll out. One of those custom trikes, dubbed "Kolob," featured a six-cylinder Porsche engine, a rear wing, dual headlamps and, of course, chrome and custom paint.

Roth eventually amassed a small fortune doing what he loved. But in 1969, Roth put most of his money into Choppers, an outlaw motorcycle culture magazine, which was a dismal failure. He lost most of his money and went back to work as a sign painter at a California amusement park. He eventually became a devout Mormon and moved to Utah. By the 1970s, even Roth's influential characters were fading out of fashion.

Among other hot rod builders of the time, he was criticized for using fiberglass and building cars that were not practical. But as fast as his empire dissolved, a rage for nostalgia in the mid-1980s and a decidedly low-brow art movement embraced "Big Daddy," rediscovering his eccentric vision. Demand for his art and "Rat Fink" has returned, evidenced by the annual Rat Fink Reunion in California.

Roth died at age 69 on April 4, 2001, reportedly from a heart attack in his workshop at his Utah home. Like the decade that spawned him, Roth was an icon who did everything to excess. There will likely never be another like him.

This article originally appeared in the AUGUST 1, 2005 issue of Hemmings Muscle Machines.

Last weekend I tried to start my newly rebuilt 1938 six cylinder Chevy engine. Of course it didn't start. It coughed, stuttered, blew gas out of the exhaust manifold and eventually got flooded with fuel. I wasn't sad because I have been through this with so many engines. I decided to give the engine a week to rest while I went over issues like timing, valve lash, point gap, dwell, and other items. This weekend with the help of one of the guys from the "Danville Dukes" and after some adjustments and tweaking, I turned the engine over and it lit up like a rocket. It was loud since the exhaust system was not there but that's the exhilaration of raw power (not as loud as V8's). I was just so totally excited. So it was successful and the engine is past the hurdle of getting started. Too bad there's no brakes and seats or I certainly would have terrorized the neighborhood with my awesome ride. My buddy was afraid of fire so we had a fire extinguisher close by. Gotta tell you that none of the engines I have ever started after tearing them apart have ever erupted in fire. I have started engines where fire has blown out the top of the carb and out the exhaust manifold but never any disastrous type fire. Whew!

Friday, April 11, 2008

I'm back after a brief absence. I have been adding tunes to my playlist. Lots of tunes! Now whatever your mood is you can pick a tune to listen too as you read my boring blog. Each tune has a meaning to me, all good. I use music as a way to remember my past, present, and future. For instance, "Someone like You" by Van Morrison always reminds me of my better half and the woman in my life for the last going on 28 years. "When you wish upon a Star" always reminds me of being a kid and going to Disneyland. "What's going on" by Marvin Gaye reminds of the those incredible Motown years when I was a young teen. Try guessing what the other ones might mean to me. Enjoy! (The better your computer speakers the better the sound)

Friday, March 21, 2008

As I searched the Internet today for car news I was saddened and shocked to read that Boyd Coddington has died. He was 63. Who's Boyd you ask? I didn't know him personally but I knew of his legacy by watching his show on TV. Boyd was a custom car builder and designer. He even had worked at Disneyland, one of my favorite places. His custom cars are the "creme de la creme" of custom cars, just beautiful creations dreamed up and built by Boyd and his staff. These kinda guys are not your everyday guys. They dream it and they build it from scratch. Boy toys, dream machines, and power houses for us to drive, ogle, and enjoy. He's gone but his legacy continues thanks to his wife who will carry the dream on. I don't know her either but I bet she's amazing. These custom car builders are amazing. Starting with the frame and ending with the flames, they fabricate, bend, mold, bolt, paint, and upholster cars like no other. There aren't many of these guys who can do it right and make it pretty. They are a breed of special brains that give us pure automobile beauty. When one of these artists pass on, we can only hope that the legacy is passed on to others.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Watched the news last night, saw an SF cop beating an Iraq war protester in the street with a billy club. The protester was just a guy, not a thug or a bully, just a guy. Looked to me like the guy just bumped into the cop and the cop went into a fury, clubbin' away at whomever he could hit, including young girls and old girls. It all took me back to Viet Nam days, when I was a late teen. At the war rallies I attended, I saw the cops swinging the billy clubs then too. My girlfriend and I huddled next to big building column so we wouldn't get hit. They never stop. Yeah, they hit whomever they could strike. Just plain people making a statement. Free speech is what we are free to do here, yet the cops just don't get it. My Dad was in WWII. He said war was hell and he said it with conviction. War is hell and we have a right to be against it if we so desire. That doesn't give the cops the freedom to beat the ordinary citizens into oblivion. Cops don't beat bicyclists when they ride their bikes down Market Street, SF.
Watched the news last night, saw a bunch of protesters protesting the Marine Recruiting Center in Berkeley. Marines have saved our asses for many decades. They are good people too, always faithfull. They are just doing their job, just like war protesters. Marines don't like war anymore than us plain folk. The Marine Corps is a way for some Americans to find something to join, just like religion. It isn't about war, it's about comraderie and fellowship. Marines are just doing the job they have found to do that makes them feel good. The Marine Corps should not be protested, the people who run our government are the ones to protest. The politcians get us into war, not the Marines and all the other Armed Forces. It is the commander-in-chief who gets us into war. (George W. Bush) Let's honor the Armed Forces because they protect us against fascism. They protect our American freedom. Protest in front of the White House, keep the president up all night. It will give him time to think about it and all the son's and daughters who have lost their lives fighting for his agenda overseas. And oh yeah, watch out for the DC cops billy clubs, we all saw those being used during the civil rights movement and Viet Nam war rallies.
Here's some homework, google the meaning of Semper Fi, Marines don't have to take this quiz!
and read this: http://www.oo-rah.com/Store/editorial/edi52.asp
Imagine all the people, John, I do.
"Imagine"
Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

John Lennon

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

JAM wins: Orange and pink, mini skirt with boots and round cap, oo la la

Monday, February 25, 2008


Today's existential thought: I am pretty convinced that I can probably write whatever I want and say whatever I want since not a soul visits this blog and if they do they don't dare post a comment. I ponder what I might post that might excite the inner creativity of the reader to make regular visits to this blog. Maybe I should talk about irrigation? Or Disneyland? Or life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. What would Tom Jefferson write about if he were here today to blog? Maybe I could write about architecture? I could write about Love. I sure did a heck of lot of love passages in 1968. Hey! Let's talk about art! Have you been to the Museum of Art in Washington, D.C.? I have and it was absolutely amazing and that was in the 3rd grade! I have never been to the Louvre in Paris :-( and I can't wait to go. Then there's the Sistene Chapel at St. Peter's in Rome, never been there either. How can anyone lay on their back all day and paint? I get tired laying on my back and sunning at the beach so I go to the pool bar! Maybe I can write about Hollywood. My grandmother lived one block from the Sunset Strip. I used to walk Sunset as a kid just to read the stars names and do the shops. Did you know that Jane Mansfield's Beverly Hills house was pink? We used to drive by it all the time. Does that officially make her the first "PINK"? We also used to drive by the Hollywood Playboy Club with all of it glitz and glamour. Never saw Hef, Barbi Benton or even Dorothy Stratton, bummer! It was still really cool though. Hey! When I was a teenager and we would fly into LAX on PSA I would see Hef's all black jet with a huge white bunny painted on the tailwing and parked at its own hanger!!! No kidding! Enough for today. Here's a thought to ponder: Who can tell me a good description of the outfits the PSA stewardesses wore in 1970?

Monday, January 28, 2008



Here's the oldest lady in our family, 70 years old! She's a 1938 Chevrolet and she's on a tow truck headed to the body and paint shop. A new engine, new paint and a new interior will soon make her feel fresh again and ready to cruise the streets of Danville in the same glory she displayed in 1938. Roll out the red carpet when she comes home!

Next! Kid #2, David Nathaniel and to me better known as "Goofy". This is another no-boring kid. He's an old spirit who's full of day-to-day thoughts and revelations. He's absolutely never dull. He inspires you to be creative. He builds things, draws things, cracks jokes, and does all the guy things you can imagine. He's a master bowler and bike rider. He too is a chip off the old block. There's never a moment that his kindness falls too short. He's great with the ladies and a perfect boy scout who helps wherever he's needed. Beware of the rubber spider under your pillow, it may be the work of David! Yes, he's a prankster and I hope he gets over it prior to college. I gotta say I have the best son in the world.





Well, the next question is "OK, pretty wife, so where's the kids?" Hey, got 2. Here's kid #1 and me. Heather Michelle's her name and she not your average daughter. She's more than that. She's almost too hard to explain. A multi faceted person with fears and visions like all of us. Driven to conquer, even on a beer budget. The happiest I see her is at Disneyland and the saddest I see her is when she's sick. In between it's up to the particular day, person, weather, or cocktail. She's taught me alot about being a father. Never had a sister so the only thing I knew about women was my mother and my aunts. Guy's, having a daughter is a helluva hard job. Unlike cars and toasters, the daughters do not come with instructions. Anytime I can hang with her and make her happy is a blessing. She's our first child and I am grateful for her. I knew I never wanted a boring daughter. Anyway, she's a chip off the old block and there's never a horse she can't ride! I gotta say I have the best daughter a guy could ask for!




Aloha! There's nothing like sitting by a resort hotel pool in Hawaii and sipping a tropical beverage with your amazing wahini wife. Ooh, la, la! (Even if it was a year ago!)