Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Model T Tuesday


I rolled the T outside the other day - and somehow got a pic of a car that looks like what I built but, you know, nice...

I guess the evening sun hides all of the dents, questionable work and rough edges.





Not so much of a progress report, because I really have not done much more that put some bolts in places and putz around.


The real reason for even rolling the thing outside was so the dude from the hardware store down the street could check it out...

We were talking about bolts, I was looking for some graded hardware, and he didn't understand why...
So we got to talking about what I was doing.
He seemed puzzled and I suggested that he just come have a look, it would make more sense.


I am not sure, after his inspection, it made any more sense to him...

I do think he understands why I don't want to use crappy hardware to hold stuff together, though.
There is not much to the T, so I don't want bits falling off/apart due to some cheapo bolt breaking...



Two Wheels Tuesday








What?

Two wheels are touching the ground.
That counts.

Summer


You can feel it coming to an end...

Can't you?

Earlier sunsets, cooler mornings.


It will all be over, before we even realize it is gone.

Monday, August 30, 2010

This Will Help



I don't know about you, but this weekend's media diet left me wondering how we simply haven't imploded under the weight of our collective national suck.


The FoxNews-apalooza thing, with Beck and Palin blathering to a sea folks wearing red, white and blue t-shirts covered in conservative crazy talk slogans.

People hoping to "take America back.."
Which is an expression which sort of baffles me.
Back from what or who?
Shit is still fairly much fucked up the same way it has been since I can remember...
Are they hoping to take it back to like the Eisenhower era?
Don't tell me it's Reagan, because I was around for that and it was well fucked.


Plus, the Emmy's...
Which I could give pretty piss about, but it justs adds to the din.

People have actual careers based on their ability to ask what kind of clothing other people are wearing, on camera.
We, as a civilization, apparently have a great interest in knowing the name of the designer of some clothing we will never even consider purchasing...
Because it seemed like there was more of that sort of thing than the actual delivery of awards.


Good Lord.

It makes one question the value of life...


That is, until you watch this video.
One viewing of this and everything will make more sense, it will seem better...
Faith in your fellow man will be restored.



Welcome to the Workweek








This is part of a lowbrow tarot card art show, coming up in LA...
More on the show here.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Sunday Drive






Man, I can't keep track of all you punks runnin' around here backwards...


Saturday, August 28, 2010

Massacre





Friday, August 27, 2010

Weekend Tempo








Slow and low...
Holmes.




I am trying to say "holmes" more, now that I am on this coast.

I am not sure why...



Fan Mail Friday
















I get this kind of shit all the time.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Salad Recipe





Dude stole my whole goddamned recipe...


No Parking







Hey!



You can't park your car there!


You can not park your car there!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Funny








I was just thinking about you too...

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Two Wheels Tuesday




Well, it started on two wheels.



Don't like it?






Fork 0ff...

Two Wheels Tuesday




Strangely, the jump is not the thing that freaks me out, in this picture...


It's that damned ramp.


I mean...did they use up all of the wood on the landing ramp?

That take off ramp looks less stable than a Sunday School sociopath, in a strip club, on Saturday night.

I Hear Banjo Music

Jivaro Wheels and Shrunken Head Skateboards Demo from Skate Windells on Vimeo.

Monday, August 23, 2010

For the Record

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Cool

Here are two of the coolest/nicest guys I have ever met...


Doing it.

They may have had some trouble on the salt.
And I might be bummed I wasn't there to help...lamely.

Regardless...

These guys kick ass.


If you wanted some evidence that a strong will, a skinny wallet and a bunch of friends can pull off the stuff of dreams...
These guys are the proof.

I remember that T body hanging in the rafters of a garage.
Bits of the rest may have lurked in sheds and backyards around the neighborhood.
The rest is made from a shit-ton of effort and parts from guys who get it, appreciate these two and cared enough to help.

A chassis built from scratch, stuff fabricated in a garage...
A dude shipped a hopped up Model A engine from England for the cause.
Family chipped in...
Real life effort.
Horse trading, late nights and time off from work made that car.
There aren't stickers all over it because they worked for it, paid for it out of pocket and with kindness.

Real life, good guy shit...

They may not have put names in a book, yet...
But these guy's names will echo in the hearts of a lot of pals and associates, for years to come.


I like these guys...

Sunday Drive








So, we probably are not going to get ice cream...

Are we?

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Swampthing

Friday, August 20, 2010

408MPH Friday

Ferrari Friday




The Dino might be my favorite Ferrari...

Svelte, curvy...
Downright sexy cars.


Even the steering wheel looks cool, huh?























Note, the Dino is one of the few cars, outside of DOT fleet vehicles, that is acceptable in a yellow livery.

No other cars should be painted yellow.
Ever.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Space





So, uhm...

Who, exactly, does a person need to talk to to get a ride in a U2?
I would also think the SR71 would be acceptable...
Either one, I am not picky.


Who do I need to call, though?

Vacation?





When I hear about people talking fantastic vacations, to exotic destinations...

Places with pools right on the beach...


I picture something like this.




Because pools are not for swimming.

What Time







What time do you usually wake up?


Just curious...

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

White Trash Wednesday








Don't call me that...

Keeping It Real


You wanna know who keeps it real?

Fucking five year olds are nothing but real...


My main little man, Oscar, stopped by to check shit out.

He ran the dog, watched Iron Man and provided some review of the ergonomics of the T.
Real world, pretend driving of the old gal...

Sawing the wheel back and forth, flippin' the switches, making the shifter earn it's rent.

He worked the Model T over.
He made me wear a helmet and ear protection and shit...


Oscar kicks a lot of ass.

And by a lot, I mean his parents...
Both of them.
Because he wants to know why things work.

But he and I were able to to talk about stuff...
We talked about how things work.
I didn't exactly cut a car in half...
Which may have been a disappointment.
I was able to give him some HotWheels.
Which may have not made up for not blowing shit up...

But we hung out...
And messed with some shit.
We wore helmets, talked cars and burned metal.


You know, to corrupt his mind.


I apologize to D and A, preemptively, because...
Well, just because.


He is going to grow up and...

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Marcel the Shell

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

NomNomNom

The 555


Sure, it is Speed Week and I could easily continue to bore you with snapshots of really fast cars sitting on vast salty expanses...

But the 555 is going on as well, right now.
I think it deserves some mention...








This year, a bunch of dudes converged in Detroit, they all bought bikes smaller than 500cc's, for less than $500 and then there is some other 5 rule I am forgetting.


These nut-jobs then load up and start riding to Portland, Oregon...

Rather slowly.


Because, well, they are riding small, crappy, unloved bikes...the kind that have been sitting in you neighbor's garage since it stopped shifting into third gear, back in 1981.

The dudes are doing a pretty good job of documenting the slow race between roadside repairs over here.

Rain, campfires, greasy hands, hotdogs and bastard motorcycles...
And it is not exactly a race at all.
Just some guys having fun, doing shit...


Sounds pretty awesome, huh?


Monday, August 16, 2010

Speed Week


I saw this car last summer, at Pleasanton...

One of the early streamliners, maybe the first bellytank car.


Mountain Monday

Look at That






Yeah...


Look at that, will you.



Yup.





More of this sort of thing here.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday Drive









What?
We just stopped five minutes ago.

They Are Out There

Folks are showing up on the salt...

After a years worth of work and a month or more of late night thrashing to get ready...
They are out there.

To the few guys I know, looking down that line this year...
Staring down history and destiny.

Go fast.
Don't die.
Good luck.


I am jealous.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Fist City

Friday, August 13, 2010

Go Fast Friday

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Philly Photographers

This seems to be the standard kit for Philly folks taking pictures...

I can't quite figure it out.

I mean, do you think your friends are really so interesting or pretty, that you need to haul all that gear with you on a night out?







Listen, outsider opinion here, they are not.

More Easy Rider?




You know what?


You guys should just stop now.





Knock that, the fuck, off...

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Cooking Tips




Just find some food that will cook itself...

Duh.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Two Wheels Tuesday

Monday, August 9, 2010

Better than Shark Week?





You know what is more bad-ass than Shark Week?




Speed Week.

Bar Ferdinand


I am going to come right out with it...

Once we had figured out where we were gonna live in Philly, I started looking at restaurants in the neighborhood.
You have got to find your spot, you know.
The place that makes you extra happy...

I really thought Bar Ferdinand was going to be it, for me.


Coming from the Bay Area, a place where you can not spill your wine without getting some on the next small plates joint, BF seemed to have all of my criteria for a nice evening pretty well handled.
Good reviews, a menu full of interesting sounding stuff, a big wine list.
Even the pictures of the decor seemed, well, if a little heavy handed...at least comfortable.


Perhaps, I just wanted it too much...
Perhaps, it is just not that great.

I confess, I have only dined there once.
It didn't really inspire much confidence in a need to return, Bar Ferdinand...


KVC went for an early evening nosh on a hot summer night...
Slow night, no crowd, no waiting.
We were pleasantly greeted and chose a table outside.
Our server was on it, made recommendations, advised us on the wines she preferred.
We selected a half dozen small plates...

Shortly thereafter, the whole experience just fell apart.

As the food came out, we noticed a theme of over-seasoning across half of the items we ordered.
By over-seasoning, I mean dishes that were salted heavily enough to withstand a long sea voyage without refrigeration.

The special watermelon gazpacho, delightful. The signature potato thing which "everybody orders" seemed suspiciously like random diner home fries (only with aoli). The scallop on squid ink risotto perched said delicate bivalve atop a paste of black dyed sodium chloride, as best as I could tell.

The other items we ordered were so forgettable that I honestly don't remember them...


Why?
Because food came out with less timing than one might find from short order cook's kitchen.
Two by two, one person after another, tiny plates arrived...
Before I could even consider one, another two...
I am saying I couldn't even finish a glass of wine before all of the damned plates were gathering flies in front of me.


Now, if we were a table of four or six, that would have been great. Sure.
But, no, we were a table of two...
And, maybe, if it were a busy night and the kitchen was slammed I could let this slide.

Or, if I was at fucking Denny's and needed my Grand Slam Skillet in a hurry, so that I might hop back into a big rig, hauling load of Lone Star beer to some midget's birthday party...that hurried pace would be acceptable...


But that is certainly not the pace I am looking for at a tapas joint.

No, I hope that I can while away some time.
Think about wine and food pairings...
Savor delicious little samples of weird proteins...
Feel languid enough to, for example, order a second fucking glass of wine!

And why does this misstep bother me so, you may ask?
Because I have cooked on a line, in a restaurant...
And sending food at the right pace is right after sending good food, on my list of priorities.
If a place serving food can not get that, I have to wonder where all of the other details fall, between the front and back of house.


I mean, if the punk-rock taqueria, down the street, can figure out how to send chips, sopes and tacos to my table, with enough time to enjoy each and maybe also get a chance to gulp down some fluids between bites - why can't Bar Ferdinand?


Straight up, Bar Ferdinand is a disappointment to me...
Will they get another shot?
Probably.

Will they get to be my extra special neighborhood happy spot?
That chance has probably been lost.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Take a Fairlane to the Ring?


Alright, I have posted some videos of fancy cars going around the Ring before...

Cars with all manner of fancy schmancy shit going on.


How about a trip around the Ring in a Holman Moody tuned 1964 Ford Fairlane?
You know, something goddamned American.
Big, ill mannered and loud...

Something like this?


Yeah, I know.
It is nose heavy, has a live axle rear and all of the aerodynamics of a brick.

Fucking awesome...



Sunday Drive















No, I can not get into the car.

Not if you keep pulling away as soon as I attempt the grab the handle...


Saturday, August 7, 2010

Black Landlord





Also, perhaps, my favorite bartender in Philly.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Fan Mail Friday













I get this kind of shit all the time.

Shark Week

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Salty


So I was looking at some food stuff, on line, today...

I have time for that, these days.

You know checking out recipes and shit.
I usually just sort of get a vague idea for dinner options and make something up...
But it is easy to get into a small rut.
I try to keep things fresh.


These days that seems to involve a lot of work.
And that is fine...
Good food usually takes a little work.

I enjoy a trip to the farmers market, an actual butcher or to the out of the way specialty spice joint.


Anyway, I notice a bunch of recipes are calling for specific salts...

Sure, yeah, I am down with the kosher or the plain old iodized options.

I will admit to having some salt that claims to be sea salt in the cupboard.
Which, you know, tastes like salt...
Any hint of deep briny undertones exists only in my head, as best as I can tell.


But the one that got me?
Stopped me in my tracks?

A recipe calling for Himalayan rock salt...

You know what?
No.
I will not do it.
It may be the most awesome, saltiest, fucking salt ever...
It could be cultivated from the sweat of virgin, tantric nuns, who feed only on wild goddamned gooseberries...for all I care.

I am not going to buy Himalayan rock salt to improve my guacamole.

Screw that and the associated fussy dissection and deconstruction of food into absurd gourmet components...


Food, is about the combination of a few ingredients, positive energy, some conversation and maybe a bottle of wine...

Some rock salt, from some far off mountain range, is ultimately not going to change the rest of that dynamic much.
Unless you invite me over for dinner, and I discover you have some K2 brine bag hidden in a cabinet.
I hope you are good with laughing with me, as I laugh at your salt shopping obsessions, because I will laugh.
A lot.

I am all for buying really great ingredients, when I am making some food.
I want my food to to be good, and starting with good stuff makes that super easy.
But there are limits.
And salt shipped from the other side of the planet might be just past my limit...

That is just gratuitous name dropping, label whoring shit.



Alright, I did some research and there are no nuns involved.

Just poor, stooped Pakistani guys and one of the world's biggest salt mines.

That sort of spoils the idea of some kind of pristine, glacial super salt doesn't it?
Nope, just a big ass hole in the ground, outside of Islamabad.
A bunch of giant diesel machines scraping up salt...

I am sure they gouge salt out of the ground with the utmost of care and delicacy.
Like Martha Stewart operating an excavator...
Knowing that some fanciful foodie in a fake suburban villa will be dashing just a bit of their salt across some avocados.

Shark Week

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

This Should Explain Everything




I don't mean to bore all of you with technical mumbo-jumbo...

Just posting this up for a colleague to refer too.


Some new concepts relating to baboonbot design.


Man, I feel like we are so close on getting this program out in the real world for some testing...


The relocation set things back a bit.
Work continues at the western facilities...
Largely under the supervision of my main man, Chuck the Chimp.

He has really stepped up his efforts in the last few months...
I thought he really deserved the chance to advance.


Being a good manager and helping people/monkeymen grow is part of being a good leader.

And, really, what happens after I take over the world?
I have to manage things.
You know, lead the world.


I did make the poor decision to let some of the more advanced research baboons drive themselves across country, during the move to my new east coast lair.

Sure, it just sounds bad right from the start...
I know.
Have you priced out moving a secret lab full of baboons and lasers, though?
That shit adds up, quick.

So, I outfitted about three dozen of the little baboon bastards with disguises and a recreational vehicles - and told them to meet me here.
They had all gone through basic training and passed the battery of aptitude tests I give all of the program animals, performed all of their roles and duties admirably...


I guess there was some sort of parking lot fender bender, outside of Wichita...
Things got out of hand, so they ran for Mexico.
None of them have really told me the whole story.

You can imagine what a pain in the ass it is to get three dozen baboons back across the border.

Shit.


Anyway, we are getting things squared away in the new facilities here.
Back to the work of taking over the world and all of that...

The usual.

Shark Week

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Shark Week

Two Wheels Tuesday







Well...

I feel like I never learned how to ride a bike now.


Holy, goddamned shitballs.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Shark Week

Mint 400 Monday

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Sunday Drive















Don't stop.