I had the luck of being invited to audition for a wonderful musical stageplay , here on Kauai, called "Oasis Lounge" produced by the lovely and talented Gina Mears and directed by her son, Joel Guy. I got the part of a henchman who threatened patrons with a big knife and eventually got poisoned by a mysterious assassin sent by Cleopatra herself. This is my beautiful friend, Julie Sorey who plays Zarafana. What a blast we all had!
This is the entranceway to the Oasis Lounge (painted by yours truly) and you can see how we all banded together and put together a really amazing production that sold out every night. It was a huge hit. You can see clips on YouTube.com by punching in Oasis Lounge.
This photo gives you an idea of the lavishenss of this stage set. So many people gave Gina their all to make this happen. Many of us (including me) auditioned and got parts for an America's Most Wanted reinactment filmed here in October 07. We became a very tight family. Gina rocks!
Yeah, that's the NASCAR Uncle Tim back in '84. I used to race stock cars at Californina tracks like Watsonville and Baylands. That night I won and got to smooch the trophy girls. I raced Chevelles for three years and did well. And I lettered a LOT of race cars, too!
This is me going for the win against my old enemy Kim Beard. He later went on to win the track championship,(the bastard). Kim and I were not only neighbors, we were great friends. The best thing about racing was the fellowship we developed when the inevitable crash left us wanting for parts. Someone always had the right part and just in time to fix the car and get back out there and race. One night I actually broke the track record. My good friend Orval Burke came right behind me 15 minutes later and broke it again. But for 15 minutes I was the king of the mud people!!!
I just love this photo for some reason. When we "qualify" we can either go out on a loose or a sticky track and set as fast a time as we can. This was the first car I campaigned and we ended up 12th in the track standings that year. Out of 100 or more cars that's not too bad, I think. Next year we ended up 9th.
This is a very ugly race car. In this photo I am very dirty and greasy under that fire suit. I totalled the 65 and had one week to build a complete new car. I found this used 66 Chevelle race car stripped behind a former track champion's barn and bought it for 200 bucks, put it on the trailer and swapped all the parts from my 65. Motor, tranny, rear end, interior, etc. I found a hood and a fender at the junkyard and made a quick stencil for the numbers out of cardboard. We barely made it to the track. Because I was late they made me qualify first on a sloppy track. I had no time to lose so I warmed it up on the trailer while my crew was unstrapping it. I went out and set fast time that nite with two spares and my tool box in the trunk. I took them out and went out to win the trophy dash. The NASCAR Steward came over and said" Nice win" ..."Now make sure this thing comes back painted next week!"
Ahhh...the roar of the totally redneck crowd! That's me behind the steward in the red jacket (with a fresh paint job) taking our parade lap before the race begins. On any given night there were more fights in the stands than in the pits. They always invert the top 16 qualifiers so I almost always started in the back. 20 cars filled out the main event.
This is what it looks like when you qualify on a sloppy track. But there is a certain thrill to going about 70 or 80 sideways on the high edge of high bank dirt track.
After about 10 races into the season the nice body became a wrinkled body and I got tired of sanding and all that so I just got out a paint roller, brush and some One Shot and rolled it out like it was an old barn. Then I lettered it up and hauled it to the track. Turned out pretty good I think. I was about 31 here. They called my wife a "Racing Widow". I had a lot of fun until the politics ruined it for me and I quit after 3 years and 65 races.
This is me back in 1972 in a dry dock in Sassapo Japan getting repairs after coming back from Viet Nam. I'm about 19 here and just got my first tattoo from Pinky Yun when we stopped in Hong Kong. I was a Gunner's Mate on the"Old Tin Can" Destroyer called the John R. Craig DD885.
Here I'm about 15 or 16 I think. This was my favorite place to escape. It was in the hills of Saratoga far away from the traffic and the noise of the Silicon Valley. It took me about 5 minutes in first gear wide open to climb up this hill. My engine smelled like burnt pickles every time I went up there. This is probably all condos by now. It seems that I've been escaping cities my whole life.
Everybody should have toys in their toybox, don't you agree? This is my 97 Fat Boy, my 86 FXR and my Yamaha V-Star. Five days a week, I enjoy a wonderful 30 minute ride to the shop on the Northshore. Oh yeah, and 30 minutes back, too!
Here's a couple of pix of my old Evo I built back in the early 90's. I blacked out most of the chrome because I hate it. Being next to the ocean (Monterey), chrome rusts so easilly and I'm too lazy to polish it every day. I've been doing this since the early 80's and now eveybody seems so want blacked out bikes. By the way, that's a 24k twirled gold outline around the purple pearl flames. Striped by me, of course.
Below is my old 1945 Knucklehead HD. I bought it for 3500 bucks back in 1982. When I bought it ...it was this horrible orange and the first thing I did to it was black it out. The orange just had to go!
I love to ride or drive around and take pix like these. Of course some require a bit of a hike. So, simply, I believe that beauty is where you find it. Also I consider my mind a toy so take a little trip inside the sick mind of Uncle Tim below. Enjoy!
Grandma died and so did her famous chowder recipe. People just didn't come around here anymore. We watched the decay take over while they all left for the city. The winds seemed to get colder every year. Even the wood stopped creaking and groaning. The water didn't move like it used to and the sand turned black. The town died a slow agonizing death.
The wood nymphs were too quick for me. Or were they leaf knomes?But they took my food and my supplies and I was doomed, several miles from nothing in either direction. Damn they were fast! The reality hit me like a cold, bone-rattling chill. The sun would be setting very soon and I was going to die here. In a passing thought, I wondered which of the frogs were edible. Then I wondered what wood nymphs tasted like with Tapatio sauce but they took that, too the little bastards.
The nearby waste plant was having a dramatic effect on the foliage since the laws were relaxed back in '88. I drove by this very spot last week and planted that tree. Now the leaves had taken over. It was if they issued a proud warning that they were the new species to reckon with. The crackling sound of the wind hitting them shattered my false sense of security. I had not feared like this since childhood. I prayed that the leaves had no teeth. I cursed President Bush under by breath.
This is where I had dumped the body of Old Man Connors. He was a real prick so I killed him when I caught him pissing on my old 57 Panhead. He didn't know about the electric wire I put around it. I like fish.... matter of fact I like FAT FISH, so they would probably chew on him for about 6 months or so. I pondered for some time wondering who would eat the most. The Bass or the Catfish? Oh, nevermind. It's such a lovely day without him and I keep my old Harley in the barn these days anyway. Connors wife ran off with the Insurance agent. Funny thing is ....nobody ever went lookin' for him. He musta pissed on a lotta Harleys.
It was a bitter-cold February day. I could sense their souls stirring in the breeze. They howled in off pitch harmony as I fought off an aching chill. I pulled up my collar tight and watched my breath escape into the emptiness. The restless horde called to me like wolves crying from far far away.
The town had been abandoned for some years. They did it to themselves. What first started out as innocent gossip then turned into an angry war for power and principal. These weren't included in the seven deadly sins but they should have been. The wasted flesh painted Town Hall with a loud, screaming fury. It consumed for what seemed an eternity. We thought it would never end. Now, citizens long gone, the hate floated above the empty buildings like a dried blood colored cloud. It somehow reminded me of the calm aftemath of a tornado. Still slowly swirling in a giant circle, hanging there, like it wasn't finished with it's evil carnage, waiting to strike on any remaining sign of life. I was too horrified to return.It smelled like terror and death.
Okay, make up your own story about this pic and win a free $300 tattoo from Uncle Tim. (No cash value) Keep it short like 200 words or less. Just click on my blog page (The Buzz) leave your addy and I'll announce the winner at the end of the summer. Probably September 1st.