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I Wish I Could Blame Just Dad

LongRoofian October 14, 2010 Meet Your Hoons 22 Comments

So this week, we contributors to Redusernab are exposing-hey get your mind out of the gutter-a little bit about ourselves so we Hoons can get to know each other a little better.

In my very first post on Redusernab, this olelongrooffan described How This Hoon Became A Hoon.
Rather than rehash that old blogpost, this olelongrooffan thought I would approach my Hoonage from a bit different perspective but you have to cross over to the other side to read all about it.

As I described in my inaugural blogpost my Dad always had an unusual car around and sometimes more than one.

I readily remember riding in and driving his 1972 Citroen DS21 Palas. It was a super sweet ride, not overly powerful but, Man, the leather front seats were soft and cushy, much like a barco-lounger, and seemed to swallow you whole in their comfortableness. And yes, it had clutchless semi automatic transmission.
He drove that automobile until it just gave out and then he parked it in the pole barn out back for a number of years. At the time, I was in my early college years and tried to talk him into installing a VW GTI motor in it. But, alas, he passed along to me, and all my brothers, the belief that Stock Rocks! And that car withered away. But by then he had purchased a pair of 66 Pontiacs and moved on.

But as the title suggests, it is not just Dad I can blame. I have three older brothers who are also into all things vehicular.

During my preteen years, my oldest brother, prior to leaving for the Land War In Southeast Asia, purchased, not only a swing set for we “four little kids” and a matching console television and stereo system for the folks, a 1970 Chevelle 2 door hardtop. And as Dad had passed along his trait, it was bone ass stock and stayed that way until he bought his Cutlass Supreme after his first marriage. His wife couldn’t drive the “three on the tree” equipped Chevelle! He also owned a vintage WWII Willy’s M38A1.

My second oldest brother (the Bus), back in the same era, purchased this sweet British racing green Triumph Spitfire. Prior to leaving for Germany to serve his country as a medic for the US Army over there, he put this thing up on concrete blocks and took the knockoff wheels and tires to a buddy’s home so that my little brother (thejeepjunkie) and I, about 13-14 at the time, wouldn’t steal it and totally Hoon The Hell out of it. Know this, we would have! But I do remember sitting in that thing, up on blocks, with thejeepjunkie as my navigator shifting that 4 speed transmission while driving in our imaginary rally that took place, not geographically, but cerebelly. And this olelongrooffan remembers that like it was yesterday. It was actually 37 years ago!

Now for my third oldest brother (thehorsefarmer), back in the late 60’s he owned a 1955 Chrysler New Yorker. Later in life, after he retired after serving in the US Navy as the Senior Chief Hospital Corpsman, Submarine Services, he bought a small farm and had the two trucks shown in the following image.
thehorsefarmer got that blue F1 from my dad. Dad bought it as a backup pickup on our farm back in the early 70’s. My dad had a friend, Hap Henley, who was an old Chrysler New Yorker driving, plaid flannel shirt wearing, pipe smoking shade tree mechanic. When it came time to rebuild that flathead six under the hood of that old truck, Hap was around and told this young whipper snapper to file down the top of the engine block til it was smooth. So I commensed to filing that old block to what I thought was perfection. When I had completed that task, I went to get Hap to show him what I had done. He came over, inspected my work and told me I had done a “jam up job.” This 14 year old boy didn’t know what that meant and went to find Mrs. Henley and ask her. She told me I must have done an exceptional job as Hap rarely paid that compliment. I walked out of the kitchen just beaming with pride!

Thus far I have explained the contributing genetics as to How This Hoon Became A Hoon. Now I want to share a couple more memories.

Prior to moving to the Missouri Ozarks, my family lived in Shrewbury, Missouri, a bedroom community on the border of St. Louis. My paternal grandmother, Moo, lived across town from us and for my family to go visit her was a big deal. She was of the age who believed kids were to seen and not heard. Whenever we “4 little kids” went with the folks to visit her, my brother and I were bannished to the dark, dank basement of Moo’s row house to play with toy cars from an old wooden box. I have been fortunate enough to have gotten a couple of them over the years.
I showed these to thejeepjunkie earlier this evening and he about died! “I remember that old Packard from when we played with it in Moo’s basement.” And that wheelless silver longroof I remember playing with it while it still possessed those vital items necessary for vehicular movement. Wonder if that toy planted an early seed of longroof fondness in this olelongrooffan? This is my earliest recollection of anything automotive, occuring around age 3, 1962.
While we lived in St. Louis, this Microbus was my Mom’s daily driver. My Dad had an identical one. Those are my three older brothers looking cool in the early 60’s.

As I mentioned, my dad always had a unique vehicle around. In the early ’60’s while in St. Louis he picked up a 1932 Ford Model “A”. Shown below are me, second from the left, and thejeepjunkie on the far right. My neighbor across the street, Mark Ryan, is on the far left and the other boy is unknown. Yeah, I remember “jam up job” but forget someone’s name from 46 years ago. Well, that’s how I ride.
That car rode down to the Missouri Ozarks on a flatbed trailer behind my Dad’s 65 Country Squire and, for a time, resided in my dad’s garage where it became a backdrop for a photograph taken by this olelongrooffan of a bunch of neighborhood kids with thejeepjunkie front and center.
And lest you think dad never started on that restoration, note the following picture of more neighborhood kids after we had rebuilt the motor in that early FOMOCO product.
At this time, circa 1970, my dad’s fleet consisted of the following: 1967 Ford Country Squire, 1966 Buick Electra Deuce and A Quarter(the bishop’s old car), this Model “A”, a 1963 Corvair Convertible, a Starcraft tent trailer, a 32′ pontoon boat, two Wheel Horse lawn tractors and about a hundred bicycles, including one built for two.

Well Hoons, one day my dad pulled an Oliver Wendel Douglas and moved his brood lock, stock and barrel from urban life to a 173 acre farm a thirty minute drive from “town”. He traded that partially restored Model “A” for a big, stout Black Angus bull who provided many calves out there on Haven Lee Farm. My sister totalled that red Corvair so my dad took the proceeds and purchased a brand new 1971 Dodge Sweptline pickup truck for daily use on that farm.
While in the stead of this olelongrooffan and thejeepjunkie, it spent alot of its time in this condition.
Usually stuck during the spring thaws.

Dad also found a tricycle front IH Farmall “C” tractor and much like Mr. Douglas’s tractor one day the wheel fell off!
And those are just a few of the thousands of memories this olelongrooffan retains from a childhood with a dad and older brothers who, just like you and me, were Hoons of their time.

I have shared with my brothers this fine website and they follow it as religiously as you and I do. And I am confident my Dad, with a glass of all things Cutty in one hand and a cigar in the other is watching over we Hoons from up above and giving all of us his nod of approval.

  • huesos350

    damm.. i wish i could have those types of memories with nt father and brother.. my father all he did is sell anything motorized i bought for half of what paid for..

  • clunkerlove

    I wish this piece had been amongst the Jalopnik "Amercas Next Top Car Blogger" competition. I can really relate to the people and places depicted here and like the easy going spirit of the prose. Your oldest brother was a real stand up guy, buying your parents a nice car before jetting off to possibly die in the theater of battle. I can also readily imagine the titanic shift in in your lives moving from St. Louis to a farm in the Ozarks.
    My marriage recently cratered and my in-laws live in SE Mo, deep in the gorgeous Ozarks. My former in-law dad built a 5k sq. ft steel building on the farm to house his treasure trove of old Lincolns, Buicks and my former wife's '64 Ranchero that he painstakingly restored while recovering from cancer. I thought my in-laws were the best a man could ask for – but alas their daughter certainly was not, so it's a chapter in my life that's now closed. Obviously your story evoked some of the better memories of my visits there.
    Apropos of nothing, please go see Winter's Bone before it leaves the theaters. Filmed in Ozark meth-country, it's a touching film set in a place you know very well but depicting a hard-scrabble lifestyle I hope you don't.
    Over and out.

    • Lotte

      But, alas, Jalopnik isn't looking for touching personal stories, no matter how well-written. (I think) they're looking for someone that's able to turn the everyday mundane news into something you'd want to read. It'd almost be a shame to see some of the more poetic writers here poring over the latest car trends/ press releases/ what-have-you to find something snarky to say. (Graverobber's NPOCP is an exception, I don't know how he does it but there's always something that makes you go "ha!". Or "snort." Or "What? *googles…Oh. Ohhh…)

      I'm jealous of your car life, olelongrooffan. Mine's mostly 1/64 of what you've experienced 😉

      • With their latest "Top Drivel" stunt, all they are looking for are pageview numbers. Content has no relevance. I was tempted to submit "Bikini clad Zombies and their flaming pinto" and a picture of my turtles.

        • Alff

          I'm honestly dismayed at how poor most of the published entries are. I shudder to think about the ones that were deemed unworthy.

          This is why an all-volunteer army works better.

          • clunkerlove

            Roger that. I read the majority of them and found myself squirming in discomfort over most entries. Mr. Wert was polishing turds for what was actually posted though there were a few excellent standouts. Unfortunately for those of us who like thoughtful prose, he's running a business that aspires to turn a profit which means more than a little pandering to the lowest common denominator. So I'll keep reading Redusernab, thanks.
            I considered entering … but was afraid that I might actually win and would thus have yet another obligation hanging over my head like the sword of Damocles. In retrospect, there were a couple of entries that would have trumped mine so it's just as well not having put something out there for the world to poke with a stick.

        • You've got turtles?

          • "I like Turtles…"

            We inherited two Red-Eared Sliders that were around 17 years old a few years ago. They now live in my bathtub (for realz) and have tripled in size over the last few years. They have waterfalls, toy ducks, and even a mini flashing Vegas-sign. I even trained them to do a dumb trick.

            • Turtles are rad.

              Somewhere there's a picture of a very small me sitting on top of a very very large tortoise at the Happy Hollow Zoo in San Jose, circa '85.

            • We need images of this turtle tub or it ain't true!

              • Mr_Biggles

                Agreed. Make sure the Vegas sign is plugged in please.

                • Vegas sign seems to be on the fritz… when it works it lights up just like the real one. We have a larger version for the cat and dog ing area, and a small palm type thing.

              • Happy turtles are notoriously hard to photograph. 🙂

                <img src="; width= "500" >

  • You did a jam up job on that write-up!

    • Also, I love the old pictures. Nice touch.

  • Excellent. Farms are possibly the best place for a young hoon, I believe. My grandpa still has the farm where I spent my summers, driving tractors and trying to do wheelies on the 4-wheelers, wrastlin cattle and sheering sheep. Good times.

  • citroen67

    Awesome story! I enjoyed every word of it! So…what ever happened to the DS?

    • My dad ended up selling it to a pilot from Denver who was interested in the interior to use in his freshly restored DS.

  • jeepjunkie

    pretty good post longrooffan….but you failed to mention the time we stuck the old M38, not a M38A1, thought I taught you better, in Turnback Creek….took four horses to pull it out….and you also failed to relate "Getting stuck in the mud is a family affair."…perhaps these will be fodder for future post….but all in all………you did a 'jam up job'…….the 5thouta5……….jeepjunkie……

  • Mr_Biggles

    Nice. I like the Longrooffan writing style. It's a bit like listening to a good story teller around the campfire. Very relaxing.

    And perhaps I missed something over the last year, but is it officially Longrooffan or Longroofian?

    • longrooffan is my aol address. However, when I was admitted to the vault that is Redusernab, Mr. Mad Science bestowed this olelongrooffan the moniker "Longroofian". Either way, just happy to be here and contribute, in my own pseudo folksy way, to all things Hoonworthy. Thanks for the campfire compliment. I am that way in real life also! Remember to Celebrate Life along the way.

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