dogtag

But as you get older you tend to think of
things that invoke fond memories. Most are
funny, that's why you remember.
In the years after high school a lot of us
hung out at the drive in and passed
judgement on the cars and those who
brought them. It was the summer of 66.
There was a line of stalls for those who
actually bought food or wanted to pick up
women and another set of diagonals where
the really fast rides parked.
Now that I look back on it, it strikes me
a little funny. A kind of "pecking order"
of sorts. Most of us would stand around
and bs about cars and mods and how to make
everything faster.
The fastest three or four got the first
slots and the number of cars driving thru
never ended.
A new driver and car always had the option
to pull thru and try to call a guy out.
Most races took place in front of the
drive in execpt when the cops were there
for a coffee and doughnut break.
Then races were taken over the Narrows
bridge and out of the city.
Some of the heavy hitters were guys like
Bill McCann.
(geeze, 40 years and I still remember his
name)
Bill drove a white Chev Belair with a 430
hp, L88, 427.
It's was obvious. Bill thought it was a
sleeper, with it's four doors and stock
paint but it had one of the few sets of
mags in town,a suspention kit and a huge
set of slicks; and the hood had shims on
the hinges so he could get it to close
over that engine..stocker?....O ya, sure.
It made the car look like it was in an
accident and it definitely did not sound
stock. It really was a tank.
The others were two brothers who hated
each other. One had a 65 GTO, 360 tripower
and the other had a 442, 350 hp.
There was a new guy in the fourth of fifth
slot every friday.

This one night, there were two races of
note.
A guy from high school came through in a
brand new Buick Riv. He even had his date
with him.
He would pass in front of the other racers
with his nose in the air and leaning into
the center console and rev in neutral and
would drop the thing into "Low" and
get a short chirp and then continue the
cruise....most of the guys looking on
would just go nuts laughing....I got to
admit, it was funny.

One of the brothers in the 442 follows
this kid out to the light in front of the
restaurant and lines up next to him. We
all get out of our cars to
witness......both rev and the 442 and
Buick jump. The kid in the Buick revs the
thing tight and drops in into low and
there's this bang, as the car lurches to
follow the 442. The rear end "U" joint
self distructs and the drive shaft beats
the holy livin k rap out of the bottom of
the Riv for a few seconds and then falls
in the street.
The Riv coasts a few dozen feet and comes
to a stop.
The 442 is long gone.

Well, the first one to get over his
surprise is my buddy Bill. I thought he
must of passed that mouthfull of Coke he
had thru his nose. Dam n near choked to
death.
The kid and the girl get out of the Riv
and walk across the street.
I can only imagine how he felt. The girls
face is beat red. She gets in another car
and the kid gets on the phone to
call......you guessed it.....
Anyway, as we were leaving to go over the
Narrows bridge to the Industrial airport
to check out another race, this guy pulls
up in a 52 Buick Roadmaster and gets out
and looks at the Riv....then he starts
chasing the kid around the car....there
was alot of yelling.
You could spend good money and never see a
show that good.
This night, a Mexican kid came in with a
289 comet.
It was a four speed with a set of 4:88's
and slicks.
No back seat, just a bench in front. No
air cleaner either.
He'd also taken out the spare. We really
started to rag him about what else he left
on his garage floor and then when it came
time to leave, we had to help him push
start it. He'd tried to use a motorcycle
battery to save weight.
Enough to run the car and lights but not
enough to start it.
What a hoot!
He wanted to race Bill's 427. He just
wanted to see how his "lil Juanita" would
do.
Yeah, he even had the name of the car
painted on the drivers door.
The Mexican kid was a Senior at the local
school and was in auto shop. I guess he
was viewed as an up and commer. He'd got
the 289 out of a wrecked "HO" Mustang
along with the tranny. He and his Dad had
managed to stuff this thing into this
comet.
Bill suggested he tie off the wheel and
stay behind....maybe save another 150
pounds. We all laughed.
The quarter mile was marked off on the
Perimiter road next to the airport and
most of the serious races took place
there.
They both lined up and went on the third
blink of a flashlight. The Ford was at the
top of second gear before the 427 got
second. niceset power shifts I've ever
heard.
It was no contest.
The 427 didn't have a chance. He couldn't
close the gap.
Just trying to move to much weight. The
Mexican kid really handed him his lunch.
The rest of the evening at the drive in
was spent with people telling Bill he
should take off the two rear doors before
he raced.
I often wondered what he did with the car
but never found out. Most of the guys made
Viet Nam a permanent home that year.

As I've said before, nothings changed.
They guys from the auto shop and the guys
with ideas that moded their cars do the
same thing on imports now instead.
Those who can talk their daddys out of the
family sled still do and then the yuppies
and "dinks" (dual income, no kids) still
come thur in their expensive sports cars.
The resturant is still there but no more
car hops.
I sit in my ride and wonder in 30 or 40
years, if the kids will still cruise thru
but maybe in electric cars run on Hydrogen
fuel cells.


What's the point? A nostalgia fix for me
my man....while I still can.
Dogtag

CharlieCobra03

No doubt.