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Sticks and Stones My Break My Bones But they Also Can Fix My Chevy

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I've posted a couple serious and deeply personal posts lately so I'm going to balance it back out with goofy car stories. This one is actually a "humble brag" post about my mechanical ability and ability to work a situation that isn't necessarily going my way.

In 1992 while driving in my neighborhood, I passed a car with a for sale sign in it and it immediately drilled into my psyche. It was a gunmetal grey 1962 Chevrolet Biscayne 2-Door Post. The "post" referred to the B-billar of the car. Oddly, to me a the time, it was also known as a "sedan" even though it was a two door.


It had huge front and back bench seats and the seats were sprung, not of foam like modern cars are. The body was straight and it was a 283 V8 with a 3-speed and automatic overdrive, essentially making it a 6-speed. A great drag car!

The $1600 asking price was within reach - if I sold my 1968 Chevrolet 3/4-ton truck. I didn't need a truck, I'm not even sure why I ever…

The Low Odds, High Desirability Event (Cars & Girls)

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Hello, lovers. It is time to get back on the horse, or should I say horseshittery?

This story comes to us from the great state of Washington in the summer of 1990. If you've followed this blog so far you know that this is basically a blog revolving around funny or stupid things I did as a kid. So here we go.

I was 17 years old in 1990. In that year people in cars actually drove them rather than pretending to not look down at their own crotches while looking at their cell phones. By the way people, we CAN see you looking down at your phone even when you're tiring to make it look like your head is looking out the window - but that is another rant for another day.

My F-body Chevrolet (That is a Camaro to you) was never going to be complete without a CB radio in it. So, as a 17 year old in high school, working 40 hours a week and pulling 3.7GPAs I figured dropping $50 on a Uniden 510XL CB from Costco was more than a fair weekend joy. It turns out radio would be a life love of mine - …

The Demise of Harley Arlen "Sam" Smith

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About every ten years I get an itch. I start thinking about my childhood and my parents divorce in 1979 and leads, inevitably, to my fathers death in 1985. 

I was raised in the same city that was my fathers home town, Renton, Washington, USA. He graduated from Renton High School in 1964 - and if you know your history - you know that what came next was a call from Uncle Sam to head towards a place called Vietnam.


This post isn't about his 1st Cavalry experience or his Purple Heart. I do believe those things had to do with his demise but I cannot reconcile how much it did.

In 1985, when I was 13, my father (as far as I knew) took his own life. Even back then there was talk that it wasn't suicide but murder. Being his son, over the next ten years of my life, I came to believe that indeed he killed himself. The reports said so, the family said so and the coup de grĂ¢ce was that he was a disabled Vietnam Veteran. The dots all lined up and as we even know today, the kids that get sent o…

Veterans Day, Renton Rock Band Style

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Hello, Lovers! I was trying to think of a post that wasn't "thoughts and prayers" but thankful and informative. With some Adam flair and style.
So click on this and continue reading:



My father was a Disabled American Veteran. He earned a Purple Heart in Vietnam in 1966. He was told he'd never walk again and while he was at Madigan hospital having two of three AK-47 shells removed from his riddled body he was threatened court martial if he got out of his bed.
Well, he did, again and again until you know what? He walked.
These are the men that Donald Trump could berate publicly while still, SOMEHOW getting some of their votes.
Anyway, this song is by a Renton, WA, USA band from the late 80s called Green House. They never toured the world, they are clearly pretty decent - but please let your ears listen to the analog hiss and stuck magnetic tape. I found what I believe the be one of the last demo tapes thrown out at a Sweet Water show that was put on at the University of Was…

The Great Blimp Attack of 1994

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Ah, my beloved Seattle Supersonics. I was a complete NBA head until the league decided that Oklahoma City(!?) of all places needed a team so bad that expansion just wouldn't work. They needed a team, in place, that they could steal from a city and plunk down in the great market that is OKC. Don't even argue with me that this was a premeditated attack and rip off of our team here, 1967-2008.. over 40 years of support and love.


Anyway, this short story is about one particular game in 1994. The very good Orlando Magic were visiting and the Sonics were playing in the Tacoma Dome. Why? Because Seattle was trying to placate yet another NBA bitch that our arena wasn't good enough. It was, but still we took a year to give them exactly what they wanted. 

The 1994 Orlando Magic were a powerhouse but the Sonics were also very good these mid 90s years. Orlando came packing Shaquille O'Neal and Anfernee "Penny" Hardaway who were nearly as fun to watch as the Sonics duo of G…

1998 The Daily 5AM Duel

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OK, so my blog is starting to read that the only accomplishments I've achieved are driving cars and screwing around. In order to reinforce the fact that the thought that I'm a super talented person who just has a lot of interesting experiences - I have a fully new story to share regarding cars.

For a good one and a half years, every day when I got up to go to work, there was a 3 out of 5 possibility that when, after warming up my 1978 Z/28 to drive to Starbucks Retail Operations in Seattle from Renton that the "5AM Daily Duel" as I like to call it was on.
My 1978 Z/28 had 55,000 original miles and looked like it rolled right off the factory with the sole exceptions that I had dismantled the 5.7L engine (that's 350 cubic inches to you, kids), added a roller cam and rockers and a more modern Holley Double Pumper™ Four Barrel Carburetor. Usually Q-ships are cars that don't look fast but are. My car was a Q-ship if only because it was fast to begin with but the sle…

Spring, 1993, Stone Temple Pilots Show

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If you haven't heard of Stone Temple Pilots, that's fine. Just substitute STP for one of the hottest, sweatiest most packed live shows you have ever gone to and it'll all make sense, kids.

I'm not going to get into a debate about STP. I think there are two people: One who dig them and others who think they just aped Seattle Sound. Let's not argue that. Let's just say that if you're GenX you definitely rocked to Plush, Interstate Love Song, Sex Type thing... and many more tunes that are near and dear to my heart.

So, when STP came to the Mercer Arena in 1993, you bet your sweet ass I was gonna be at that Rawk Show! I'm a music snob but I couldn't wait to see frat boys who only knew two songs packed in and getting their lame asses rocked off just to hear Plush while they were high.

Well, turns out, it did't matter who you were that night. We all got our lame asses rocked. 

I had bought a brand new pair of Chuck Taylor high tops, the only size 13s in t…

They Day Flamin' Amy Died (And I Almost Did Too)

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Hello, Lovers. I've had ten emails just in two hours - ridiculous for a post from this rat-trap blog - wanting to know about my near death experience. No, I do not think this is gruesome or prying. Now keep in mind, because I am a Norwegian Viking Warrior, no scars nor blood was shed in my near death experience. In fact, I only woken to permanent, catastrophic pain on September 29, 1999 at 3:15PM on a clear, sunny day in Seattle.

First, one should know that by age 26 still nobody has ever trained you on what to do when a 1990 Kenworth from CTI (complete with second trailer) full of broken cement is out looking for trouble. You yourself don't have to snort cocaine to be effected by it. So if you send email questioning what to do after your spine is inevitably turned to liquid I do know now. Teachable moment.

On that afternoon I was driving home on Highway 167S which is a known gridlock generator full of semi trucks and people driving to Auburn or Puyallup (or the "Paris of W…

Anesis Pain Clinics - A Pain in the Anesass

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My close friends all know that I am the survivor of a Near Death Experience (NDE). In 1999 while sitting in my 1979 Dodge Truck, which I loved, a semi driver high on cocaine plowed into me while he was doing 55-65MPH. This changed my life forever.

I'll describe the action packed event in a different blog (because if you do survive, only to be injured badly it is kinda exciting to think back on - if only it was a ticket to ride the most violent thing I think I could have experienced behind the wheel of a vehicle).





This truck had no damaged body panels on it before contact. The tailgate was flat and straight.

Today I'd just like to write about my experience after my beloved doctor retired after 17+ years of saving my life, keeping my body moving with as little pain as possible and generally just being a super person. Dr. Edward Hartzler is no longer practicing and I hope he has his toes in the sand, sailing his boat that I helped make payments on over the years.... maybe even build…