Kickin' Rocks

with Don Pennington

The Best of Times... The Worst of Times. Grab the Rake.

Hot rodders... being the only true kings of American motormania, we are always on the look out for ways to enforce our superiority over others species such as the SAAB-ladites and the Club d'Vespa Internationale. I slipped off into a nice nap and noticed some guys playing the "King of the Car World" game. This is a game that we all can play, it should have simple rules and best of all, exhibit our dominance over other car species. It's about buying and selling cars and car stuff, or make something and sell it, or buy and hoard it... anything that puts the second best "good feeling" in you jeans, the ching ching of cash, feeling the power of the almighty buck. Most of us are apparently especially adept at buying high and selling for whatever we can get, not real good for the bottom line but fun just the same. Maybe it's just that we want the bragging rights of making the killer buy or selling some of the junk destined for the trash for twice the asking price. Maybe it's just the idea of playing with stuff you like and having a way to keep changing your inventory, it's one of the hot rodder's commandments that "keeper" inventories need to be in a constant state of change, it also keeps the wife guessing as to just what project you are working on and why you need all that new stuff.  Most of us are hobby cash collectors, we'd like to do it professionally or at least with professional piles-o-cash but we never seem to be able find that secret door in the financial world to jump through, so we are just happy to make a buck or two, profit be damned. Others have found that door and are real serious about it even to the point of calling themselves hot rodders when they are actually just glorified flea market reptiles.

It's not so much the buying and selling, but buying and selling car stuff, playing in the field sorta speak, and if you could mix in more fun with more cash, that would be even better. The talk in any self respecting rock kicking circle always seems to come around to the new stuff you or your buddy has picked up, or the 26th car that Mr. Megabucks has bought. It seems like this guy's job in life is to show YOU what HE has and YOU don't. Next comes that discussion about where that guy got all his change, and of course the "why didn't I think of that"... thought. But... it's never too late, or so they say. Into this rock circle you toss a querry stone (you gotta be careful using that word nowadays), "what is the most fun about this hot rod deal?" Building the cars? Pretty coll, but not quite there. Collecting the stuff, coming up with something different or picking the right color of chrome? None of the above, it's driving the cars, sliding big giant donuts in the dirt and splashing through mud puddles, just like the little kids we actually are. I think it's time for a theme park with cars!

Many of us have had this idea that it would be cool to have a place like a theme park or theme village that centered on the car culture of the 50s and 60s. There are things in our past that just kick the hormones into high gear... like six twos on a Cad... or non-wrinkle wall slicks on a street car. There was always one girl in school that... let's say was more talented than others. This all pops up because we think the good old days were the cool time, and there is nothing better. Walt did a good job with his park, me and the boys are gonna take the place over and  being hot rodders and creative gear heads... we can do some stuff so it'll fit car folks better. Take Walt's place as a model then start chucking things out we don't need. Wait... let's leave it alone, I like everything that Walt did really cool stuff except maybe that "It's A Small World" song, the guy that wrote it is most likely in a funny farm somewhere standing in a corner in his nightgowm and flip flops, sucking on his thumb... humming that tune. That goofy song hangs in your brain for decades! Being a veteran of day one at Disenyland (they let women who planned a baby within the next decade or so, in for free) I always liked the coupons for the rides, they quit using them years ago, you bought a book which had a stack of coupons labeled from A to E. A's were the coolest and E's were the most ordinary, you got more E's than A's. We could bring those back, "A" could be for any ride powered by alcohol or any alcohol/nitro mix. B's could be for rides powered with Chrysler 300 motors, "C" for... well forget about the others, after a nitro ride and a hemi the others don't mean much but we could still use them for something, maybe the Vespa rental.

We could turn the buildings on Main Street into condos and put houses on the Matahorn and those islands by the paddle wheel boat. Don't this sound cool, hot rods cruising all over the places, lots of eat places, we need to add a drag strip, a small windy road for fun swoop driving and of course a few dirt lots for donut practice. Main Street needs to be widened to 4 lanes and several signals added so there can be the appropriate amount drag racing from light to light. What would we charge? Keep it cheap, maybe a sliding scale, the shinnier the car the more it costs, or the more you drive around the less it costs. There... that'll do it, the car show guys don't drive so they pay the freight, the rest of use play for free! Spectators? Lettum in, but there is a strict dress code and hair rule not to mention the $500 turnstile fee.

We might add or change one of those "lands" to say High School Days... land. Can't you just see it, as you and your car passes through the gate Scrooge McDuck hits you with an invisible laser warp beam changing you into what you were and what you drove the day you graduated. Wait... not so good, let's make it the way you thought you were back then, that's better. Letterman sweaters, duck tails, see through blouses, saddle shoes, and the bad group of kids that smoked cigarettes!  It'll be better than a high school reunion though because we can still have our grudges and hate the guys that screwed with us, at reunions everybody is friends, no fun. For the Friday night football games we'll just sit in the stands and imagine there is a game going on or the guys could just stand around and brag on how good they were way back when.

Can't you just see it...a warm Saturday night, sidewalks along Main Street lined with people, motors screaming and cars jumping from light to light, hot rods everywhere, people spinning the turnstiles, buying stuff in the stores, eating at one of the 76 malt shops, what's her name and the team...the cash in flowing and everybody loves it. The park is humming and me and the boys are eyeball deep in cash, one of the guys just bought car number 26, catching up with the rest of us, and we're all standing in a circle remembering how it was when we only had one hot rod, what a drag. Just then I am rudely shocked out of my nap as my wife smacks me with the rake and points at the leaf covered front lawn. It just goes to show you, good times are always followed by reality, that seems backwards somehow.

Keep Kickin'

DP