Killed by a VeeDub
04-14-2005, 10:23 PM
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Killed by a VeeDub Have you ever done something in your life that was so stupid that you would just die if it were to get out?
If you did, and I suspect we all have, I'll bet it was something that taught you a life long lesson.
I am prepared to share one of these little "gems" with you guys only because you don't know me and there is little chance that I will suffer any more embarrassment than I already have.
When I was 17 years old, I had a quick answer for just about anything.
Yes, it's going to be one of those "me and my mouth" stories.
It's also why I cut 17 year old's a lot of slack.
The year was 1961 and I was starting my Junior year at Clover Park High School.
This was the year that allot of us got part time jobs and cars.
My first car was a 1956 Olds 98 with a J2 tri-power V8.
Gobs of power and enough room inside to have a party.
I spent many hours sitting in it, doing my homework and just listening to the radio.
Radio's back then drew about 6 amps and were all vacuum tubes. I had a home made batt charger built under the hood so I could plug in and listen and still start the car later.
We were all pretty proud of our rides and in some respects they reflected our status and taste with the others at school.
Then there were those who started coming to school in these little ugly, round, funny sounding, bug cars.
VW's, of course.
Most of the guys that drove them were individualists that didn't subscribe to the "car cult" scene.
All they knew was that they performed well and were cheap to drive and insure.
One of my classmates, I'll call him Clay, became the resident expert and local VW guru.
He touted the VW's virtues and abilities until it made us all sick.
I can't tell you how many arguements we endured and the name calling and challenges were endless.
One particular day I was sitting in Clays living room listening to him play his Bass and, of course, the subject of cars came up.
Back and forth it went.
Get a real car. One that dosen't eat gas and one that handles. "Yeah, said I,""get one that will get out of it's own way".
"lead sled",,,,,, "yeah, Hitler's revenge", "yeah Behemoth", "yeah, shopping cart", back and forth it went.
Then, a breakthrough.
A Challenge!! I can take my little car to places you could never get that Detroit monster of your's.
Oh Yeah? I'll bet ya.
"Well then, monstro boy", says my friend. 20 says you can't follow me on a course of my choosing for a half hour.
You have to stay at least within 10 car lengths.
I hesitate. 20 bucks is allot of money.
( a good months work got you 500 bucks if you were lucky then)
"ARE YOU CHICKEN, MONSTRO BOY"?
Damn!! I jump up. Let's go.
More barbs....."do you want me to help you push start it"?
Out of the trailer park and down Bridgeport way we went.
I was so close to his tail that I thought I had a new hood ornament.
Around the corner and up on the curb with half the car on the sidewalk for a few hundred feet and then into the Park Lodge grade school play ground (no kids) and around the swings and monkey bars in tight circles.
Mine were wide but I made it.
Back onto the main drag and North to the old Navy base.
Down the middle of the old airstrip and then up onto the deserted loading dock ramps and into the the warehouse, around and in and out the open doors and back down the ramps and out onto the main drag again.
My Old's was RIGHT ON HIS ***!!!!!!!!
I had 10 times the horsepower, I thought to myself.
20 bucks was going to be sweet.
I kept seeing Clay looking back over his sholder.
"Yeah, look you little sucka".
Out past Medow Brook Golf course and onto a dirt road we go. We burst out of the trees onto the course and
"SHooT"!! There are people there.
There was much yelling and one guy even threw some golf ***** at us. Hostile!!
Back into the trees and down Bridgeport again.
Back towards Clay's trailer......He He He...."he's had enough".
Across the railroad tracks and "DAMN"! He turns left and starts driving down the tracks.
I crank a hard left and my mighty Old's hops onto the tracks as well.
Thumpty Thumpty....man I'm still right on his ***.
Around this curve and out on to this tressel.
All of a sudden, there is a lurch and the left side of the Olds drops.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeee, Screechhhhhhhhh and we come to a stop with the Olds high centered on the left rail.
We just sit there teetering as the tail lights of the bug disappear around the corner.
It didn't take long. It dawned on me. "You've been had"!
I quickly jump out to assess the damage. There didn't seem to be any but at one corner of the tressel, the bank dropped away and left no support for my tank.
I hot foot it down the tracks to Bridgeport and thumb a ride to Danny Jakes service station at Ponders corner.
I burst in the station yelling,,,,Danny, man, you gotta come now. It's an emergency.
About that time, a State Patrol officer comes out of the restroom zipping his fly and says, "where's this emergency"?
My heart sinks. Danny grabs his keys and down Hiway 99 we go to Bridgeport.
Danny says, "where's your car"?
I say, "Man, It's on the tracks". We get there and Danny says, "It's gone".
I point down the tracks to the East and Danny looks at me with bewilderment. "Your ****tin me" he says.
"No man, I wish I were".
Danny starts to back down the tracks and the cop comes over and jumps on the old wreckers running board.
Danny explains as we back down the tracks, around the corner to the tressel.
There sits my prize still sitting as I left it, teetering back and forth on the rail.
Danny starts to hook it up and the cop comes up to me and says, "I'll bet this is going to be good".
After I explain, he has a puzzeled look on his face and says, "I don't like it when people lie to me, son".
I said, "it's the truth sir".
The cop says, "are you some kind of smart ***"?
I tell the cop that if any part of me was smart, my car wouldn't be sitting on the tracks.
The cops starts to laugh. He sounded like a friggn Hyena.
He tells Danny to give me my car back as he didn't want to persecute the mentaly handicapped.
Well, back to Clays I go after paying towing charges.
Clay meets me at the door with a worried look on his face.
"Man, are you OK"?
I relate the story to Clay while forking over the 20 and having to listen to him laugh like a hyena as well.
Next day, it's all over school. Even my girlfriend knew.
I won't dwell on the aftermath execpt to comment that
it was a bitter defeat.
What did I learn?
My car was a lead sled.
My pride was writing checks I couldn't cash.
I had a big mouth.
I was indeed, stupid.
Over the years, I've picked my races pretty carfully and I've even walked away from a few. If you don't race, you don't loose.
I don't tell people what I'm running. No stickers, badges etc.
I don't race bikes
I don't bet for money.
I don't let my pride back me into a corner.
It's been almost 40 years and Clay is still telling people this damn story.
I'm telling you guys first because, eventually, he'll get around to you too.
True story, yeah, I'm afraid so.
Dogtag
If you did, and I suspect we all have, I'll bet it was something that taught you a life long lesson.
I am prepared to share one of these little "gems" with you guys only because you don't know me and there is little chance that I will suffer any more embarrassment than I already have.
When I was 17 years old, I had a quick answer for just about anything.
Yes, it's going to be one of those "me and my mouth" stories.
It's also why I cut 17 year old's a lot of slack.
The year was 1961 and I was starting my Junior year at Clover Park High School.
This was the year that allot of us got part time jobs and cars.
My first car was a 1956 Olds 98 with a J2 tri-power V8.
Gobs of power and enough room inside to have a party.
I spent many hours sitting in it, doing my homework and just listening to the radio.
Radio's back then drew about 6 amps and were all vacuum tubes. I had a home made batt charger built under the hood so I could plug in and listen and still start the car later.
We were all pretty proud of our rides and in some respects they reflected our status and taste with the others at school.
Then there were those who started coming to school in these little ugly, round, funny sounding, bug cars.
VW's, of course.
Most of the guys that drove them were individualists that didn't subscribe to the "car cult" scene.
All they knew was that they performed well and were cheap to drive and insure.
One of my classmates, I'll call him Clay, became the resident expert and local VW guru.
He touted the VW's virtues and abilities until it made us all sick.
I can't tell you how many arguements we endured and the name calling and challenges were endless.
One particular day I was sitting in Clays living room listening to him play his Bass and, of course, the subject of cars came up.
Back and forth it went.
Get a real car. One that dosen't eat gas and one that handles. "Yeah, said I,""get one that will get out of it's own way".
"lead sled",,,,,, "yeah, Hitler's revenge", "yeah Behemoth", "yeah, shopping cart", back and forth it went.
Then, a breakthrough.
A Challenge!! I can take my little car to places you could never get that Detroit monster of your's.
Oh Yeah? I'll bet ya.
"Well then, monstro boy", says my friend. 20 says you can't follow me on a course of my choosing for a half hour.
You have to stay at least within 10 car lengths.
I hesitate. 20 bucks is allot of money.
( a good months work got you 500 bucks if you were lucky then)
"ARE YOU CHICKEN, MONSTRO BOY"?
Damn!! I jump up. Let's go.
More barbs....."do you want me to help you push start it"?
Out of the trailer park and down Bridgeport way we went.
I was so close to his tail that I thought I had a new hood ornament.
Around the corner and up on the curb with half the car on the sidewalk for a few hundred feet and then into the Park Lodge grade school play ground (no kids) and around the swings and monkey bars in tight circles.
Mine were wide but I made it.
Back onto the main drag and North to the old Navy base.
Down the middle of the old airstrip and then up onto the deserted loading dock ramps and into the the warehouse, around and in and out the open doors and back down the ramps and out onto the main drag again.
My Old's was RIGHT ON HIS ***!!!!!!!!
I had 10 times the horsepower, I thought to myself.
20 bucks was going to be sweet.
I kept seeing Clay looking back over his sholder.
"Yeah, look you little sucka".
Out past Medow Brook Golf course and onto a dirt road we go. We burst out of the trees onto the course and
"SHooT"!! There are people there.
There was much yelling and one guy even threw some golf ***** at us. Hostile!!
Back into the trees and down Bridgeport again.
Back towards Clay's trailer......He He He...."he's had enough".
Across the railroad tracks and "DAMN"! He turns left and starts driving down the tracks.
I crank a hard left and my mighty Old's hops onto the tracks as well.
Thumpty Thumpty....man I'm still right on his ***.
Around this curve and out on to this tressel.
All of a sudden, there is a lurch and the left side of the Olds drops.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeee, Screechhhhhhhhh and we come to a stop with the Olds high centered on the left rail.
We just sit there teetering as the tail lights of the bug disappear around the corner.
It didn't take long. It dawned on me. "You've been had"!
I quickly jump out to assess the damage. There didn't seem to be any but at one corner of the tressel, the bank dropped away and left no support for my tank.
I hot foot it down the tracks to Bridgeport and thumb a ride to Danny Jakes service station at Ponders corner.
I burst in the station yelling,,,,Danny, man, you gotta come now. It's an emergency.
About that time, a State Patrol officer comes out of the restroom zipping his fly and says, "where's this emergency"?
My heart sinks. Danny grabs his keys and down Hiway 99 we go to Bridgeport.
Danny says, "where's your car"?
I say, "Man, It's on the tracks". We get there and Danny says, "It's gone".
I point down the tracks to the East and Danny looks at me with bewilderment. "Your ****tin me" he says.
"No man, I wish I were".
Danny starts to back down the tracks and the cop comes over and jumps on the old wreckers running board.
Danny explains as we back down the tracks, around the corner to the tressel.
There sits my prize still sitting as I left it, teetering back and forth on the rail.
Danny starts to hook it up and the cop comes up to me and says, "I'll bet this is going to be good".
After I explain, he has a puzzeled look on his face and says, "I don't like it when people lie to me, son".
I said, "it's the truth sir".
The cop says, "are you some kind of smart ***"?
I tell the cop that if any part of me was smart, my car wouldn't be sitting on the tracks.
The cops starts to laugh. He sounded like a friggn Hyena.
He tells Danny to give me my car back as he didn't want to persecute the mentaly handicapped.
Well, back to Clays I go after paying towing charges.
Clay meets me at the door with a worried look on his face.
"Man, are you OK"?
I relate the story to Clay while forking over the 20 and having to listen to him laugh like a hyena as well.
Next day, it's all over school. Even my girlfriend knew.
I won't dwell on the aftermath execpt to comment that
it was a bitter defeat.
What did I learn?
My car was a lead sled.
My pride was writing checks I couldn't cash.
I had a big mouth.
I was indeed, stupid.
Over the years, I've picked my races pretty carfully and I've even walked away from a few. If you don't race, you don't loose.
I don't tell people what I'm running. No stickers, badges etc.
I don't race bikes
I don't bet for money.
I don't let my pride back me into a corner.
It's been almost 40 years and Clay is still telling people this damn story.
I'm telling you guys first because, eventually, he'll get around to you too.
True story, yeah, I'm afraid so.
Dogtag
04-14-2005, 11:22 PM
#3
Originally Posted by dogtag
I tell the cop that if any part of me was smart, my car wouldn't be sitting on the tracks.
I would have beat him down and stuffed him in the trunk (I mean bonnet) of his little VW. 
04-15-2005, 08:30 AM
#5
RIP April 14, 2008
Join Date: Aug 2004
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hey you win some, you lose some. Just make sure you win more than you lose. 
Man you've got a great way of writing stories like that. It just flows.
Brad
Man you've got a great way of writing stories like that. It just flows. Brad
04-15-2005, 10:20 PM
#7
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3x2 on your '56 aey. was it from a '57 or '58. I just reconditioned a '57 pontiac tri-power and converting it to manual linkage form vacuum. Very hard to find setup these days.
good story
good story
