 back to cover page |
May, 2007 |
Mr. Jeff's by Steve Moore
Away from the grind of x-sheets and stale donuts, Jeff is rebuilding a 1961 Dragmaster dragster that he presumably owns. Dragmasters were among a handful of styles built during the late 1950's through the mid 1960's. The Dragmaster design was lighter and faster than the competition, and led to a two engine version called a "two thing".
Jeff's Dragmaster in its heydey. Dode Martin and Jim Nelson created the Dragmaster from their shop in Carlsbad, California, which still operates today. Little did they know that 3000 miles away, a weird little kid getting glue on his model's windshield (dang it!) would some day restore one of their masterpieces to its glory. Jeff has had to completely rebuild the engine and re-weld some of the chassis and roll bar, careful to keep it period correct for 1961. He's not your weekend Harley warrior, nor a hot-rod poser on Big Boy's carhop night. " I race other cars from my period as a non-professional. The speeds are in line with what they were in the early 1960's. My Dragmaster will go about 140 miles per hour." Jeff says. Top speeds then reached 200 mph. Today's dragster will reach 300 mph.
Jeff looking for the manual. Get Jeff started on drag racing and he turns into Mr. Toad. "It's a quarter mile run down a straight line against your opponent, 1,320 feet to be exact. Both cars are at the starting line." Jeff's brow sweats, eyes bulge, tongue becomes hairy. "There are starting lights, called a Christmas tree, that count down to a green light. Then both cars floor it!" Jeff shouts through a bullhorn, standing on his desk in racing clothes. "It's awesome horsepower unleashed in a matter of seconds. You cross the finish line and pull that drag chute.........a true adrenalin rush!" Hanging from a rafter, Jeff drops himself onto the couch below and lights a Twizzler, taking a long drag. "There's nothing like the smell of racing fuel and burning rubber." He sighs, throwing his head back on the couch. He falls asleep making clucking sounds.
|
Mad man behind the weld. Jeff's passion for dragsters goes back to his New Jersey childhood. " I built tons of hot rod models and drag car models. I never liked building boats, space ships or planes. Just hot-rods." Jeff smiles, glancing toward the life size stand-up of Sigmund Freud peering over a fake fern . Hot-rods also got Jeff interested in drawing. "Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth (the creator of Rat Fink) was my very first inspiration to draw. I spent a lot of time in the back of class drawing Ed Roth monster cars during the '60's." (Jeff is still drawing cars, published regularly in Drag Racing Online Magazine.) "We lived near a raceway park in Englishtown. My buddies and I watched the drags long before we got our licenses." Jeff started drag racing during high school in 1975, which made for a very noisy algebra class. "When I bought my first car, a 1968 Camaro with a 327 (horsepower engine), I prepared it for the drag strip. This was the same car I used everyday." What lucky neighbors. "I ran in stock and modified classes. I collected a lot of trophies and had a lot of fun. It's all about the fun. My best time with the Camaro was 13.90 seconds which was around 100 miles per hour in the quarter mile." As for hair-raising racing stories, "I don't have enough hair on top of my head for hair-raising tales!" Jeff laughs, choking on a Twizzler. While hacking and wheezing, he stresses safety. "Make sure you and your car are safe. Equip it with fire systems, good welding and good parts." Jeff tries a self-Heimlich. "I'll be wearing a fire suit, mask and gloves in case of fire from the motor in front of me." Still choking, face purple, he rushes out of his office. Moments later, the fire alarm sounds and the building is evacuated. Dora and SpongeBob and the rest of the Nickelodeon gang have been supportive of his racing. His '61 Dragmaster will be on display at the studio later in the summer, along with his drag racing artwork. Jeff's madcap humor will also be shown in his Finster Finster Show pilot for Oh Yeah, Cartoons. Jeff can be seen racing at the Los Angeles County raceway in Palmdale, the Fomoso raceway in Bakersfield and Fontana Drag City. " I'm not looking to break any records. Just to have a lot of fun and enjoy drag racing, California style, the way it was in the 1960's!" Be there!!!!
|
Aussie by James Baker Drive-In theatres are fondly remembered for providing teenagers with a relatively private place for their furtive anatomical research. But they were also frequented by families with small children. Before the age of video and DVD, a drive-in theatre was where parents could see movies without having to feel self-conscious about their bawling kids. Sealed off in a more or less soundproof bubble, you weren't likely to bother the other patrons (probably families themselves, or teenagers who had more pressing things, ie; the pressing of things, on their minds). I saw Bambi for the first time at a drive- in. I was five years old. My brother Jo, then just a baby, provided his own vocal accompaniment from the front seat attended to by my Mother, already pregnant with brother Rob who would be along to help with the yodelling chores in a few months. Despite being treated to moments of SENSE-AROUND from baby-bro, and his having his underthings changed right there in front of me, I was very much engrossed in what was going on up on the screen. I added my own blubbering to the general commotion with the death of Bambi's mother. This moment of tragedy is one of my most powerful early-childhood memories, but Bambi was about to affect me in an even more profound way. It was there, at the drive-in in Hobart, that I realised that this film was different to other movies. It was DRAWINGS, moving and talking and seeming to be alive and then seeming to be killed. Drawings making me feel both happy, and then sad. My tears were barely dry when I started to wonder how this could be so. What kind of magic was this? I could not grasp how it was possible for these drawings to be alive. It was a singular moment. I was both pulled into and popped out of the movie at the same time. I was a five year-old who needed some answers. Mum and Dad did their best to explain, but.....tiny drawings? What? I hadn't forgotten the great lengths they had taken to dupe me with that Santa nonsense. You never knew what kind of hokum grown ups were going to put over on you next. Behind our car at the back of the drive-in, in the same building as the snack bar, there was a tiny window allowing patrons to peek into the projection booth. In an attempt to convey the truth of the animation process to me, my Dad lifted me up high enough that I could see in. I watched a big machine spool out a long shiny ribbon that passed through a ray of light, sending a flickering beam out through the main window and onto the huge screen, in front of which our family car was parked, under the night sky. I was told that there were thousands of hand drawn little pictures on that strip of film and through some process as yet beyond my ability to comprehend, they looked alive when put through the projector. Even if it wasn't real magic, it was clearly the next best thing. James (JAMIE) Baker is an animator, character-designer and storyboard artist. Originally from Australia, he has been living in the San Francisco Bay Area since 1991. |
