A remarkable fresh build, sectioned some five inches, chopped maybe four, it was based on a genuine Ford Victoria hardtop. The taillights and dashboard were both taken from a 56 Oldsmobile, the grill bar is a 53 Chevy front bumper overrider. It took Best Custom, very well deserved.
Incredible remnants of hand lettering on a Divco truck, the owner/builder was a swell ol dude that was nice as can be. The show was beyond great, tons of new cars and old friends.
I replaced the perfectly fine Chevy logo tag badge with a gay pink plastic one that I made, just because. This truck is getting close my friends.
I first went to the grandaddy of all Central Florida car shows back in 1984, I went again with my son Miles on Saturday, he's ten and in a few years won't wanna hang out with his old man anymore. The wheels on the red GTO are 1967 Alcoas the guy bought new.
This 54 Buick was running Cragar wires.
This gorgeous 58 Buick Caballero wagon was ruined in true Florida style by horrible billet wheels and side mirrors from Miami Vice.
Fresh build 50 Buick made its maiden voyage from way down South Florida, it's gorgeous rust free but weathered body was powered by a 500 Cu in Cadillac motor and Caddy TH 400, it was my favorite car there
Bob Van Horn's lovely 40 Ford's been a hot rod since the fifties, Gene Winfield did some work on this, I believe he installed the Studebaker taillights
Typical Florida bullshit car
My not rad rod with Milner impersonator and fellow Misfire, Brian
In a parallel world from "White Bike Week" exists Black Bike Week, there is zero attitude, flashier colors, WAAAAY better music and seriously smiley faces, we passed thru on the way to the notorious Crook's Den, where no pictures were taken but memories made. A bartender had shorts clean down exposing her magnificent butt, I said to her, "you know your pants are half way off?" She said, "yeah, I got a stove top burn on my ass it hurts to pull my shorts up." I looked at the red spiral and said, "nah that's a tattoo." She said "no it's a burn." I looked closer it was a burn, I don't even wanna know how it got there.
We rode past Daytona Dave's on the way to Willie's but he wasn't there, after we left Willie's this loud as hell KZ 1000 pulls up next to us and I look and see it's Dave with his girlfriend on the back. We rode up to the fiasco that is Destination Daytona and went back to Daves. On the way there Jim suddenly had no gears, lookit the linkage came out. Dave's place is amazing, it's a compound filled to the brim with incredible machinery, a 55 Chevy here, a 392 Hemi powered deuce 5 window there, a KZ built 30 years ago with a Vertex mag, all kindsa good shit and an attack dog called Sheba to let you know to stay the fuck away.
Spent all day in the sweltering heat riding around with Indian Jim, a constant and true companion, his old timey wisdom and knowledge inspires us young 50 year olds. These pics were taken at Willie's Tropical Tattoo, I think I like old bobbers that tell a story rather than choppers these days. What's the deal with the 13 pool ball as a p-pad?
