bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
The sparrow and I thank you.
Hot Rod Poetry
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bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
It was a cold winter night in Minnesota.
The temperature hadn't raised one iota.
Fifteen below zero.
Didn't phase our hero.
The northwind was raising tendrils of snow.
The rafters creaked as it continued to blow.
The barrel stove glowed a comforting red.
The shop was as warm as the beach at Club Med.
Our man was getting on in his years.
Surely no longer wet behind the ears.
People say these years are golden.
People that say that, they aren't olden.
Sitting on the bench stool, forgot what he was doing.
Deep in his brain a notion was brewing.
Been working on cars since he was fifteen.
Maybe it was time to retire from the scene.
Just getting up off the floor.
Had become a laborious chore.
The idea he forgot just came to the fore.
Finish this hot rod, then he'll be eighty-four.
Should get it done working at this pace.
Oops, found another project on Facebook Marketplace.
The temperature hadn't raised one iota.
Fifteen below zero.
Didn't phase our hero.
The northwind was raising tendrils of snow.
The rafters creaked as it continued to blow.
The barrel stove glowed a comforting red.
The shop was as warm as the beach at Club Med.
Our man was getting on in his years.
Surely no longer wet behind the ears.
People say these years are golden.
People that say that, they aren't olden.
Sitting on the bench stool, forgot what he was doing.
Deep in his brain a notion was brewing.
Been working on cars since he was fifteen.
Maybe it was time to retire from the scene.
Just getting up off the floor.
Had become a laborious chore.
The idea he forgot just came to the fore.
Finish this hot rod, then he'll be eighty-four.
Should get it done working at this pace.
Oops, found another project on Facebook Marketplace.
there was a hairline crack in an old leaded seem
there in the panel just under the rear screen
i fired up my heating torch to melt lead out
i burnt my thumb badly and a bad word got out
three small rusty holes just there underneath
the burr drill through safety specs i peeked
some rotten metal in behind hiding from sight
i cut a two inch square hole to find a bigger blight
yes it went further a third panel was missing parts
theres two inner panels, and yes my thumb smarts
so now my hole is bigger inches six by four
remembering my bodyman skills from time before
new parts made oh look there is some more
disappeared under the window frame sheesh
now i will need to make an even bigger piece
i can see trunk lid hinge, so i melt more lead
then trim out a bigger chunk for a tidy bed
now im up to shaping and small edge trimming
and yes my excitement is really brimming
i still have the other side to do, its the same
the trunk lid will fit better now rust is gone
because now that rear panel wont flex
thanks Mr Studebaker, i made a better fix..
there in the panel just under the rear screen
i fired up my heating torch to melt lead out
i burnt my thumb badly and a bad word got out
three small rusty holes just there underneath
the burr drill through safety specs i peeked
some rotten metal in behind hiding from sight
i cut a two inch square hole to find a bigger blight
yes it went further a third panel was missing parts
theres two inner panels, and yes my thumb smarts
so now my hole is bigger inches six by four
remembering my bodyman skills from time before
new parts made oh look there is some more
disappeared under the window frame sheesh
now i will need to make an even bigger piece
i can see trunk lid hinge, so i melt more lead
then trim out a bigger chunk for a tidy bed
now im up to shaping and small edge trimming
and yes my excitement is really brimming
i still have the other side to do, its the same
the trunk lid will fit better now rust is gone
because now that rear panel wont flex
thanks Mr Studebaker, i made a better fix..
soltz
The Rat Captain
Bob, thanks for sharing your thoughts, I’m looking at 80 in July and I’ve slowed down all ready 
. But as they say “the all turnery is not great”
Take care and rest often!
. But as they say “the all turnery is not great” Take care and rest often!
MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
Good stuff, Bob and Crate. You are keeping this thread going in fine fashion.
Keep on it.
Keep on it.
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
I know a guy lives life straight and narrow.
Says when he dies he'll be buried in his Camaro.
Most song lyrics don't make sense.
I sing along, there's no expense.
Where would the Captain be without Tennille?
Singing about muskrats would have no appeal.
It was an SS with a 327 and 4 speed.
Betcha he doesn't do the burying deed.
After he's gone he'll not know.
Probably his kid will sell it for dough.
Did Simon really need Garfunkel?
About as useful as a carbuncle.
Never sang about the blues.
Sang about diamonds on the soles of her shoes.
Used to race the Camaro on the strip and street.
Claimed he never got beat.
That's how legends come to be.
Lies become truth, can't you see?
Parked in a shed for thirty years.
Remembered past glories over hundreds of beers.
America sang about a horse with no name.
Just give the thing a name.
Well, then there wouldn't be a song, would there?
The world wouldn't have lost much, to be fair.
Saw the Camaro in front of a Funeral Home.
Weather checked paint and pitted chrome.
Its days of glory long since ceased.
And my friend obviously deceased.
I went inside.
The band was playing "Ride Captain Ride."
And there upon the alter were his ashes, bone, muscle and marrow.
All stuffed inside a little toy Camaro.
Says when he dies he'll be buried in his Camaro.
Most song lyrics don't make sense.
I sing along, there's no expense.
Where would the Captain be without Tennille?
Singing about muskrats would have no appeal.
It was an SS with a 327 and 4 speed.
Betcha he doesn't do the burying deed.
After he's gone he'll not know.
Probably his kid will sell it for dough.
Did Simon really need Garfunkel?
About as useful as a carbuncle.
Never sang about the blues.
Sang about diamonds on the soles of her shoes.
Used to race the Camaro on the strip and street.
Claimed he never got beat.
That's how legends come to be.
Lies become truth, can't you see?
Parked in a shed for thirty years.
Remembered past glories over hundreds of beers.
America sang about a horse with no name.
Just give the thing a name.
Well, then there wouldn't be a song, would there?
The world wouldn't have lost much, to be fair.
Saw the Camaro in front of a Funeral Home.
Weather checked paint and pitted chrome.
Its days of glory long since ceased.
And my friend obviously deceased.
I went inside.
The band was playing "Ride Captain Ride."
And there upon the alter were his ashes, bone, muscle and marrow.
All stuffed inside a little toy Camaro.
smallfoot
He's rockin' the "Nuttin Special"!
Very good Bob!
MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
I would have done just like his kid did, Bob.
wow Bob !! ,, i get that ... nice work
hey you lot another year has passed,
man do they really fly by too fast
again the annual swap meet, next weekend
ill go swap stories with a few old friends
meet some new folks so im told
yes i can say that really so bold
another chap said two weeks back
an out town dude coming to the track
yes its where the speedway is held
old clay and methanol smelled
an air of anticipation fills my brain
but there will be no stude parts again
a bright note , oh yes thats true
power boat racing on the lake blue
old buddy from a town some hours south
we laugh , pouring beersies down the mouth
later when the boats have stopped for the day
providing we are able to walk that way
maybe oh or around the other way perhaps
out come the fishing rods evening trout slaps
they will be chasing minnows larvae and flies
hopefully we will catch one with a few tries
pictures ill post for all to see of adventures
yeah baby - all three and the trout caught by me
man do they really fly by too fast
again the annual swap meet, next weekend
ill go swap stories with a few old friends
meet some new folks so im told
yes i can say that really so bold
another chap said two weeks back
an out town dude coming to the track
yes its where the speedway is held
old clay and methanol smelled
an air of anticipation fills my brain
but there will be no stude parts again
a bright note , oh yes thats true
power boat racing on the lake blue
old buddy from a town some hours south
we laugh , pouring beersies down the mouth
later when the boats have stopped for the day
providing we are able to walk that way
maybe oh or around the other way perhaps
out come the fishing rods evening trout slaps
they will be chasing minnows larvae and flies
hopefully we will catch one with a few tries
pictures ill post for all to see of adventures
yeah baby - all three and the trout caught by me
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bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
You paint a vivid picture, crate. Well done.
I love that one Bob!
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
Looks like Crate and I are having a poetry duet.
There's a can of Bondo on the bench.
It's replaced the drill and the wrench.
Worked on the chassis for months, weeks and days.
Now it's time for the next phase.
Don't want this roadster to look too shoddy.
So I begin work on the body.
Found the old girl in a dry creek bed.
Some farmer left the Model T for dead.
It was left there to retard erosion.
Poor thing suffered major corrosion.
I don't want my reputation to sully.
If I can't save this refugee from the gully.
The little roadster was twisted, bent and bashed.
Should have left it there, left it for trash.
Don't know if I can work the magic.
Will the results be good or will they be tragic?
I'll beat this thing straight by gosh or by golly.
Into the drawer for my hammer and dolly.
That rusty old tin put up a mighty battle.
Hit it so hard made my false teeth rattle.
Sweat running down, my mouth agape.
Sure enough it began to take shape.
There goes May, there goes June.
Hope this panel beating will be done soon.
After the hammer and dolly ordeal.
The roadster body has some appeal.
Bondo and sanding began in July.
The smell of the resin makes me kinda high.
A skim coat all over should be quick.
I confess in some places it got pretty thick.
Primer, block and sand, sand and block.
You can do it endlessly, around the clock.
How do you know when it's done?
I quit when it is no longer fun.
Finally I squirt some black lacquer paint.
A Riddler winner? no it ain't.
But it's the best one I've done so far
I'll enjoy driving this little car.
And the satisfaction of knowing I did save.
This Model T roadster from its creekside grave.
There's a can of Bondo on the bench.
It's replaced the drill and the wrench.
Worked on the chassis for months, weeks and days.
Now it's time for the next phase.
Don't want this roadster to look too shoddy.
So I begin work on the body.
Found the old girl in a dry creek bed.
Some farmer left the Model T for dead.
It was left there to retard erosion.
Poor thing suffered major corrosion.
I don't want my reputation to sully.
If I can't save this refugee from the gully.
The little roadster was twisted, bent and bashed.
Should have left it there, left it for trash.
Don't know if I can work the magic.
Will the results be good or will they be tragic?
I'll beat this thing straight by gosh or by golly.
Into the drawer for my hammer and dolly.
That rusty old tin put up a mighty battle.
Hit it so hard made my false teeth rattle.
Sweat running down, my mouth agape.
Sure enough it began to take shape.
There goes May, there goes June.
Hope this panel beating will be done soon.
After the hammer and dolly ordeal.
The roadster body has some appeal.
Bondo and sanding began in July.
The smell of the resin makes me kinda high.
A skim coat all over should be quick.
I confess in some places it got pretty thick.
Primer, block and sand, sand and block.
You can do it endlessly, around the clock.
How do you know when it's done?
I quit when it is no longer fun.
Finally I squirt some black lacquer paint.
A Riddler winner? no it ain't.
But it's the best one I've done so far
I'll enjoy driving this little car.
And the satisfaction of knowing I did save.
This Model T roadster from its creekside grave.
ah Bob you old romantic,,, 
Great story !!, and i feel your pain ,,
"satisfaction" thats the Ridler winner ....
Great story !!, and i feel your pain ,,
"satisfaction" thats the Ridler winner ....
tales of rotories and blowers and men
there at the the swap met old friends
and old cast iron range came from a bus
a couple of cracks varying degrees of rust
parts galore and old classics parked on the lawn
Bargains! yes some treasure and talked till i yawned
chrome tube front axle i nearly asked how much
various end parts to make a front end and such
a clutch an "A" gas tank good enough to refill
small block chev in parts 10thou over that mill
a ledsled caravan selling fifties womens wear
be sure not that i bothered to go over there
but the caravan was cool so a picture ill post
along with a few more, i thought ill get most
when im finished wandering the parts galore
nope didnt, was distracted by stuff on the floor
the weather turned bad for an afternoon up the lake
the one and a half hour trip i did not make
was looking forward to that and i sulked for while
even the fishing gear store couldnt raise my smile
so back home i went and fitted new wiper blades
i pulled out the old rod, thinking fish in 'glades'
i could go tomorrow the weather will be fine
but life has reserved other things for that time.
so sorry old friend i hope we'll catch up again
the trout they wont stand a chance in the rain
unless we drink too much beer and stagger
its quite hard to cast with a half drunk swagger.
but i never forget what my Fishing Dad always said
"the fish dont mind the rain cos theyre already wet"
there at the the swap met old friends
and old cast iron range came from a bus
a couple of cracks varying degrees of rust
parts galore and old classics parked on the lawn
Bargains! yes some treasure and talked till i yawned
chrome tube front axle i nearly asked how much
various end parts to make a front end and such
a clutch an "A" gas tank good enough to refill
small block chev in parts 10thou over that mill
a ledsled caravan selling fifties womens wear
be sure not that i bothered to go over there
but the caravan was cool so a picture ill post
along with a few more, i thought ill get most
when im finished wandering the parts galore
nope didnt, was distracted by stuff on the floor
the weather turned bad for an afternoon up the lake
the one and a half hour trip i did not make
was looking forward to that and i sulked for while
even the fishing gear store couldnt raise my smile
so back home i went and fitted new wiper blades
i pulled out the old rod, thinking fish in 'glades'
i could go tomorrow the weather will be fine
but life has reserved other things for that time.
so sorry old friend i hope we'll catch up again
the trout they wont stand a chance in the rain
unless we drink too much beer and stagger
its quite hard to cast with a half drunk swagger.
but i never forget what my Fishing Dad always said
"the fish dont mind the rain cos theyre already wet"
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MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
Ah Crate, I wonder how many guys get so cranked up to go to a swap-meet. I know I'm one. Only a few weeks left and I'll be on my way to my favorite one.
Mac, you know it !! that anticipation is as much fun as finding treasure !! theres not Stude stuff at swap meets very often, but theres ancillory stuff all over the place..
i picked up a new pair of (matching) stainless wiper blades for less than a new one ! at least two doors worth of the fuzzy window channel ( $40 usually for a 6ft length ) the lot - $30 and a CR industires glass inline fuel filter ( boy do i need that!) for $10..
so a few smiles were had
GOOD luck for your swap meet !! ( ill send you a shopping list
)
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
Always entertaining, crate.
bob w
Still crazy after all these years!
Every Thursday a bunch of guys meet.
Most of them bring along some meat.
The grill is manned by Chef Ted.
He makes sure everyone is well fed.
Others bring delicious dessert.
You won't find any fat free yogurt.
As for green and yellow vegetables.
There's no room for that on the tables.
There's only one bloke.
That ever lights up a smoke.
As for drinks from barley or rye.
No one ever gives it a try.
Most of us in our younger years.
Drank plenty of booze and plenty of beers.
Some are suffering the ravages of time.
We talk of ailments, some are mine.
As the evening progresses.
We talk about humorous messes.
That formed who we are today.
Though not without some dismay.
A lot of us guys are very fond.
Of what creates this common bond.
Though we come from different walks of life.
Some had it easy, some dealt with strife.
We forget all that at the end of the driveway
Whether it'd frigid December or sunny May.
Over hot dogs, burgers and Diet Cokes.
We reminisce and repeat the same corny jokes.
Some of us have very sad losses.
Missing are their domestic bosses.
You can tell even the sunny skies.
Can't keep the mist from their cloudy eyes..
Yes, we are all pretty old and gray.
Except for those whose hair went away.
The weekly party keeps us out of the bars.
And reaffirms our love for our special cars.
Hot rods, muscle cars, a few like to race.
Many are laid back, enjoying a slower pace.
This group tends to have cars that are fine.
Well, that is, except for mine.
The rich guys might not understand.
How I can march to a different band.
But we all treat each other well.
Realizing we are here for just a short spell.
Most of them bring along some meat.
The grill is manned by Chef Ted.
He makes sure everyone is well fed.
Others bring delicious dessert.
You won't find any fat free yogurt.
As for green and yellow vegetables.
There's no room for that on the tables.
There's only one bloke.
That ever lights up a smoke.
As for drinks from barley or rye.
No one ever gives it a try.
Most of us in our younger years.
Drank plenty of booze and plenty of beers.
Some are suffering the ravages of time.
We talk of ailments, some are mine.
As the evening progresses.
We talk about humorous messes.
That formed who we are today.
Though not without some dismay.
A lot of us guys are very fond.
Of what creates this common bond.
Though we come from different walks of life.
Some had it easy, some dealt with strife.
We forget all that at the end of the driveway
Whether it'd frigid December or sunny May.
Over hot dogs, burgers and Diet Cokes.
We reminisce and repeat the same corny jokes.
Some of us have very sad losses.
Missing are their domestic bosses.
You can tell even the sunny skies.
Can't keep the mist from their cloudy eyes..
Yes, we are all pretty old and gray.
Except for those whose hair went away.
The weekly party keeps us out of the bars.
And reaffirms our love for our special cars.
Hot rods, muscle cars, a few like to race.
Many are laid back, enjoying a slower pace.
This group tends to have cars that are fine.
Well, that is, except for mine.
The rich guys might not understand.
How I can march to a different band.
But we all treat each other well.
Realizing we are here for just a short spell.
Last edited:
MercuryMac
Builder Junky!
Well said, Bob. I really believe in building community, too.
