Yipes.
Back from LA after a weekend of hijinks centered around the "Mopars at the Mansion" car show at Hugh Hefner's pad, along with a couple dozen surviving brain cells. Good time, you ask? I'll let this early Sunday AM Mansion driveway photo of my pal Aaron "Plowboy" Grote provide the answer.
How did we get here? Story and more incriminating evidence below the jump.
(Where are the girl pictures? Be patient.)
Friday
Arrived at LAX and headed for lazy lunchtime victuals with Ruth Waytz, the vivacious Silverlake raconteur and frequent panelist on NBC Los Angeles' "The Filter." As a well known connoisseur of the arts and fine cinema, I was taken by this striking macaroni & glue tribute to Showgirls at Ruth's pad
Afterwards, a quick spin up the 5 to Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, where I picked up Aaron at the arrival zone. He is the reason I am here. Aaron's iconic Atomic Punk bubble top show car was one of 25 or so invited to appear at the event, and the only true hot rod (most of the rest were rare numbers-matching factory cars). He has invited me to tag along, to help set up the car and chronicle the mayhem.
"Dude," he declares throwing his dufflebag in my rental, "we are going to make sure they will never invite another hot rodder to this thing again." More prophetic words were never spoken.
After battling through late afternoon LA traffic to Century City, we reach the hotel and rendezvous with the other two members of the Grote entourage. Dave and Lance have spent the last two days hauling the Punk out from its home base in central Illinois, and are ready to start the bacchanal. From there the four of us corn country hilljacks headed back up and over Laurel Canyon to Burbank for the venerable Friday night car cruise-in at Bob's Big Boy. As luck would have it, reactionary internet heartthrobs Bill Whittle and Jeremy Boering are there, and we join them for a round of Big Boy's famous Quadruple Bypass Burgers. A secret project is discussed. If it ever happens, you'll be the first to know.
After that, back over the hill for drinks at Stinker's Truck Stop, old pal Bobby Green's fabulous new watering hole on the Sunset Strip. Behind the bar we spot Bobby's lovely lady Carol who comps a round of Coors and hits a blast on the bar's truck air horn. After a few rounds we head back to l'hotel. Tomorrow is a big day.
Saturday
(Now for the girl pictures?? Hold your horses, we're getting there.)
The Playboy car show thingy is strictly scheduled and we are instructed to be at the staging area (a Beverly Hills parking garage) at 830 am. Most of the cars are pristine numbers-matching high end Mopar muscle cars from the late 60s - early 70s. The Nash Bridges Cuda, Hemi Dart, Charger R/T, Superbird, etc., plus a few with race provenance and a couple of tasteful custom G-machines.
Then we roll the Atomic Punk out of the trailer and crank up the straightpipe 392 Hemi. I don't think the muscle car guys quite know what to make of it.
After a couple hours of thumb-twiddling, Aaron's name is called. A 150 decible poodle-terrifying spin through 90201 follows (video coming soon) and the Punk takes its place of honor in the Mansion driveway.
We've got a couple hours to kill so we head out east to Azusa to meet up with diesel speed guru & Automotive X Prize jurist Gale Banks who gives us a sneak peak at his secret laboratory, including his new Banks IQ system that will debut at SEMA in a few weeks. We see the diesel dragster and the record-setting drag pick up. Gale's latest efforts include this hi-performance 50 mpg Jetta wagon (a joint project with Bosch)...
And an amazing '68 Camaro Pro Touring he is building for his son Andrew, who recently returned home after a tour in Iraq as an Army medic. The engine? A twin turbo 700+ hp Duramax diesel, natch. More on this one later.
Daylight's burning so we head back to the hotel to prepare for the evening ahead. A shuttlebus comes to...
(Shut up fool! Let's see them girls!! )
Okay, you've waited long enough. From the show:
Gregarious chap that he is, Aaron invites the multitudes of scantily clad lasses to enjoy a refreshing sitdown photo-op on the car.
Them girls enjoy the bubble top.
You're not even reading this, are you?
Even with a designated driver I thought it best to pace myself at the open bar, so I limited my drink orders to 3 Jack-and-Cokes at a time. This puts me several laps behind Aaron. Not a big celebrity contingent there, though we almost trip over Vern "Mini Me" Troyer. There's a tent with entertainment, and we are surprised that the band is a trio that we've met before -- Swedish rockabilly sensations The Go-Getters.
Aaron is summoned by a Mansion employee, who presents him with Hugh Hefner's Best In Show Award. He informs us that in 3 years, his is the first participant ever to receive it. He is staggered by the honor. Or possible a gullet of Jack Daniels. Luckily a couple of rescue bunnies are nearby to help him keep upright.
This duo helped reenact one of the best hot rod photos of all time...
... Ed "Big Daddy" Roth and the Beatnik Bandit, circa 1962.
We stumbled around the grounds and discover the Game House, containing a treasure trove of vintage pinball machines, and the monkey preserve. Believe me, finding a night forest full of caged monkeys after a bottle of JD is not as wonderful as it might seem. At this point, a dip in the Grotto seemed appropriate. I was obviously faced. In the interest of decorum, pictures and descriptions of this segment of the evening will be kept at a minimum.
As the midnight chimes rang out, Cinderfella staggered back to his enchanted pumpkin, losing his Chuck Taylor slipper on the way. Then he bazooka vomited all over the castle driveway.
Wishes do come true! They will never, ever have a hot rodder there again.
Sunday
The 8 am alarm goes off. I might look like hell, but Aaron looks like an outtake from "Saw VI." No matter, the car must be retreived from the Mansion grounds pronto. On the way Aaron requests a play-by-play recount of his Saturday night behavior, having lost all synaptic response at approximately 10 pm. I do my best to fill in the 3 hour gap. After loading the Punk back on its trailer we head back to Burbank to drop it off at the world's coolest garage, Bobby Green's Old Crow Speed Shop. The Punk will reside there for the next few months.
We are greeted at the shop by Old Crow mechanic Lucky Burton and his three year old son Cash. Lucky is moving around some vehicles to make room for the Punk, including Bobby's "Money Shot" Model A roadster.
How many of you have your own garage yeti?
Aaron's Trophy sees the light of day.
Aaron has a mid-afternoon hell-flight to St. Louis, so I give him my bottle of Immodium and drop him off at the Burbank airport. Dave and Lance hit the road for a the 3 day drive back to Illinois. On the way back through Burbank I spot a bitchin' black lacquer hot rod Model A coupe. Turns out it's my hot rodding acquaintance Chris Casny, and his car is in the middle of a shoot for a hot rod magazine. Small world.
After sundown, I pick up Ruth and we drive to Hollywood for cocktails at Yamashiro with noted bloggerati Rand Simberg and Marc "Armed Liberal" Danziger. Sparkling bonhomie ensues, punctuated by bitter backstabbing gossip about various non-present bloggers. I say my farewells to all, as United Airlines beckons tomorrow.
At the hotel, I learn that Iowa beat Wisconsin. All in all, a pretty good weekend.
