No Longer A Daytona International Speedway Virgin

Appropriately enough, I gathered this image last evening prior to the Bud ShootOut.

So earlier today, this olelongrooffan was sitting on my skinny white *ss in my favorite chair in my Taj Mahal trying to figure out how I was going to approach my blog about attending the Bud Shootout last night at the Daytona International Speedway (still working on that).

Suddenly, the massive communications system lights up letting me know that someone in my rather limited world wants to have a real life conversation with me. That occurrence is a relative rarity these days.

Anyway, it was thehorsefarmer calling to let me know that he and thebarngoddess were making an appearance at the internationally famous Daytona Flea Market today. "Where are you now, horsefarmer?" "LPGA and 95," was his reply. About two minutes from that flea market. "Sh*t Man, let me grab a shower and I'll hook up with y'all."

And I did.

The three of us spent a couple of hours wandering around that cool place and I was able to score a cool old Nash badge for my collection of obscure old automobile related crap.



So, after thebarngoddess conveyed to this olelongrooffan that my flea market was the best one in the northeast part of the Sunshine State, we all had a cold sody pop and decided we had seen all that could be seen. As usual, thehorsefarmer suggests lunch and we, separately, headed out to International Speedway Boulevard to see what food serving joint we could find. As thebarngoddess's Bull was the chase vehicle, I kept an eye on it in my rear view mirror. I noticed thehorsefarmer flipped on his turn signal and just a bit later we pulled into the Waffle House parking lot. thebarngoddess had a quick snooze while this olelongrooffan and thehorsefarmer enjoyed a delicious greasy cheeseburger. Bonus #1, Waffle House does not own a fryer so my potatoes of choice were hash browned. Bonus #2, this was the first time I had ever eaten at a Waffle House. Honest to God. Bonus #3, thehorsefarmer refused to accept any Washingtons from me for my four dollar meal. Thanks horsefarmer.

So during lunch, thehorsefarmer and I were discussing our afternoon plans. His included getting a tire relocated from the right front of the Bull to the right rear as thebarngoddess' daily driver seems to be having some alignment issues. Mine, as I related, was to head to the Daytona International Speedway, utilize one of the two freakin' awesome passes thejeepjunkie was able to scam score for Speedweeks down here and check out the qualifying session for next week's Daytona 500.



After we had finished up that meal, we were chatting it up with thebarngoddess out in the parking lot and thehorsefarmer mentions he would love to go to the track with me for a short time. As he and thebarngoddess commenced to figuring out what she would do while we were there. I replied, "Hey I have a media pass that will get us, in your Bull, into the infield and thebarngoddess can hang while we wander around."

And that is exactly what thebarngoddess, thehorsefarmer and this olelongrooffan did. We Hooned it right on through that tunnel under NASCAR turn 4 that is the same age as me and rolled right up to the Media parking area. You can see an image of how close we parked to the action in the following image as my Comanche was in nearly the same location last evening.



Yeah, those racing transporters just over the roof of my Indian are parked in the garage area. We were parked that close.



So this olelongrooffan and thehorsefarmer assumed thejeepjunkie's identity and wandered around the FanZone and the NASCAR garage area for a bit.



I was so excited for thehorsefarmer. We were there on a day when all of the drivers are around and we got to see quite a few of them. Kyle Busch, Greg Biffle and Carl Edwards among them.



This was the first time thehorsefarmer had visited the track during a race related event and, Counters, he was like a kid in a candy store.



I had to gather the above image of him behind the Bass Pro/Jamie MacMurray Chevrolet just because that driver is one of thehorsefarmers favorite as well as for all my kinfolk up there in the Ozark Mountains.



But it was even cooler just a tad bit later when we spotted Carl Edwards during a MRN interview after capturing the pole.



We even got to see the "hat shuffle" for the professional photographers following that interview.



It's funny how it works. Major TV networks get first grab at an interview (FOX), then the radio guys get their chance (MRN) then the still phototogs get their chance.



And today, thehorsefarmer got his chance. And I mean it when I tell you that I am standing in the background observing something I have seen a bunch of times before and watching my older brother being exposed to something he has seen on TV a bunch of times and just having a blast watching him. For that, I am grateful to thejeepjunkie and the Powers Above for aligning all of this for us.



And yeah, that is "The Cat In The Hat" Jack Roush to right in the above image.



Yeah, it was a great feeling. Then and now. How often have you been able to introduce a sibling to a much desired experience? Especially an older one. Yeah, all is good.



So anyway, after that photo op with the Daytona 500 pole sitter, and a few sightings of some team owners, this olelongrooffan and thehorsefarmer were following Carl Edwards, who was in pursuit of his race car, down to Gatorade Victory Circle.



At first, I was a bit concerned as I noticed the gate from the garage area to Victory Circle was open (and we had exited the garage area) but when we approached that hallowed area, the security dude at the gate must have noted the look of awe on thehorsefarmer's face and motioned us right on in.



We gathered up a few images of the proceedings, and yet another "hat shuffle" and then in typical Lee fashion, thehorsefarmer says, "Okay, I've seen it." and we head on out.



As we were leaving, he mentioned he would love to have an image of him with the grandstands in the background. We were outside the fence at the time and he said we could just get it with the fence in the background.

Bullsh*t, this olelongrooffan replied, let's go to the pits. And we did and here is the image of him



sitting on the pit wall of the Daytona International Speedway this afternoon.



and a gratuitous one of this olelongrooffan as well.

But wait, I haven't even related the best part. Remember back when we were in the garage watching Carl Edwards getting interviewed?

Well, as it turns out, thehorsefarmer was captured by the FOX TV crew in the backround and was broadcast on national TV, if only for a brief time.

Even better?

His daughter, the Shark, some 1,200 miles away on Haven Lee Farm in the Ozarks, just happened to be watching that broadcast and saw her Dad on national TV, an occurrence that was totally unexpected and is just awesome as Hell.

That, my friends, is how we Celebrate Life down here in the Sunshine State.

Happy Birthday To TheGentlemanFarmer

My dad, whom I affectionately refer to as TheGentlemanFarmer was born on February 18, 1924. I love him and miss bouncing ideas off his intelligent being since he left us to join a whole bunch of other cool folks in 2003.

Anyway, last week I did a post over on Hooniverse, a car related blog I contribute to on a semi regular basis. I thought those of you Counting Along With Me might enjoy reading up on just some of the cool stuff he owned in his lifetime. And how he was able to that on a journalist's income is still a mystery to me.

Alas, one this olelongrooffan won't be able to solve in my lifetime.

Anyway, it's directed toward the Hooniverse audience but those of you Counting Along With Me will get it also. I hope all y'all enjoy it and remember to take every opportunity to

Celebrate Life.

Here it is. By the way, the "pseudo folksy" writing style I refer to is something a couple of critical commenters mentioned early on in my blogging career over there.



Once again, I must offer my apologies to my fellow Hoons. As usually seems to be the case, this olelongrooffan just couldn't stop once I got started so be prepared for some more of my rambling ways. And yes, it is kind of "pseudo-folksy"

Allow me to start out by saying that longroofs have had a fond place in the heart of this olelongrooffan since I was a mere toddler. The first one I remember was this '65 Country Squire dad owned when we moved to the Queen City of the Ozarks from St. Louis.



A ways back, the esteemed Mr. Brennan did a Hooniverse Wagon Wednesday post about a longroof that triggered this whole thought process and one this olelongrooffan fondly remembers from my youth. I had thought that any image of it was lost during the settlement of my folks estates but, thankfully, this olelongrooffan was pleasantly surprised to receive an image of it from one of my older brothers, the Bus, recently and I thought I might share it with my fellow Hoons.



Now longroofs have played an important role in my folks life. When my Mom was a mere teenage hottie, her dad had this cool old woodie wagon. As I've said previously, I really believe this is why my dad married her.



Early in their married life, just after my dad built the brick house in the background, he was hooning around Shrewsbury, Missouri in this awesome Willys Station Wagon.



As his brood continued to enlarge, he acquired this ultra sweet Mercury longroof complete with wood siding. This was one beautiful automobile and my older brothers still talk about that creature with reverence.



Alas, as my Mom continued to pop out kids to the tune of one every two years, the decision was made to move from conventional longroofs to the ultimate longroof, a Volkswagon Microbus, of which my folks owned two at the same time. The first ones sold in the greater St. Louis area. Yeah, that is Mom and Dad in the above photo with my brother, thejeepjunkie, resting comfortably awaiting his entry into this world in a few months time and, undoubtedly, dreaming about all of the vintage CJ's he would eventually wheel and deal.



A few years later, my dad accepted a position as the founding editor of a Roman Catholic newspaper in southern Missouri and the entire clan moved lock, stock and barrel to the Ozarks. That is thejeepjunkie hamming it up in the above photo while this olelongrooffan is watching those movers work while almost simultaneously walking off the tailgate on the rear of that vintage moving van.



My dad, who always seemed to have a Hoonworthy car, drove that soon to be damaged '65 the five hours down Highway 66 towing the "A" he, thejeepjunkie and I later partially restored.



One of the favorite past times of our clan at the time was camping. I mean with ten kids on a journalist's income, there is not a bunch of discretionary income available for spending on amusement park tickets nor on hotel rooms. Mom's daily driver '65 was commissioned as the transport vehicle to Table Rock Lake dang near every weekend during the spring, summer and fall months. The green '62 Belair to the right in the above photo belonged to my grandmother, yes Granny, and had a two speed transmission mated to a 283 (IIRC) engine. Ah, the things I think I remember from my youth. My grandfather, his name was Man, drove a '56 Belair post at the time.



After Mom's '65 recorded 98,000 miles on its clock, Dad traded it in on a similar '67 Country Squire, one of my favorite all time vehicles. I remember thejeepjunkie and I riding in the back back on the way to the lake and rushing to be the first to identify an oncoming vehicle. I damn near always won, something my younger brother still talks about to this day.



The '67 even spent some winter time with my Dad and a couple Catholic priests playing in the snow. The dude on the left, Fr. Bob Landewe, is a lifelong family friend and performed both Mom and Dad's funeral services many years ago.



While my older brother was overseas in southeast Asia defending freedom seekers, my folks decided to divest themselves of dad's project "A",



and sell the recently acquired tent trailer and



the big house in the city and shuck it all for



this truck and a 173 acre farm. Yeah, we were Green Acres and the Beverly Hillbillies combined. Yeah, the wheel even fell off TheGentlemanFarmer's tractor.



However, my folks did stay in touch with their city friends, including Else Watson who drove this wedge off the showroom floor back in this country's bicentennial birthday year.



And lest my fellow Hoons think living on a farm is a breeze, check out the load of hay on that old Sweptline. This is not a staged shot. We four boys, two of them city kids, thejeepjunkie and this olelongrooffan, hauled that hay from "Dad's field" (the biggest one) and tossed it into that little square hole on the second floor of that old oak barn.



And my dad, now known as TheGentlemanFarmer, was able to stumble his way into the ownership of yet another Hoonworthy automobile to add to his collection. This DS21, a 71 Dodge pickup, a 51 Ford stepside pickup, a Buick LeSabre, a Ford longroof, and



this tractor along with assorted tractor impliments made up the vehicular livery my dad called his own. And I'll bet my fellow Hoons thought I was lieing about that wheel falling off.



And mom continued to grill dinner for her brood nearly every night. Only now it was beef, pork, mutton and veggies harvested right there on "Haven Lee Farm."

Now about this time, this olelongrooffan can hear my fellow Hoons screaming "What the hell does this have to do with Mr. Brennan's post about a Plymouth longroof?"

Well, I'll tell ya. When my folks decided that we "four little kids", as we are known as to this day and I am the oldest at 52 and the baby is 46, needed to have proper schooling (read Catholic school education) they decided to sell most of the farm and move back to the city. During that move, my dad bought his last longroof.



That's correct my fellow Hoons. A 1976 Plymouth Gran Fury Sport Suburban. Maroon with the requisite vinyl wood siding and a light cream vinyl interior. Yes, it was powered by a gas sucking 440 that roared whenever this 16 year old longrooffan would punch the accelerator. Man it was fun but my dad was always, and I mean always, bitching about its fuel consumption. I think he secretly knew why though. And that chicken in the above photo? When we moved back to the city, it was to three acres of semi woodlands just 12 blocks from the downtown square. My folks had grown accustomed to farm fresh eggs so a few of those hens and a rooster or two made the move with us. Yeah, it's hard to take the hillybilly out of an Ozarkian, even transplanted ones.



Shortly thereafter, dad's DS21 decided to cease running and he sold it to a dentist out in the Mile High City and dad decided that shortbed Blue Oval pickups were to be his newest Hoonworthy rides. He bought this '67 in 82 and then an '80 a few years later. The rear end of the farm owned 51 pickup can be seen in the background of this photo.



And my folk's camping desires resurfaced so dad picked up this Mobilux motorhome to satisfy those desires. Man, there are a ton of stories about this brown campercar this olelongrooffan will share with my fellow Hoons someday. Yeah, google image image "Mobilux" and see how many show up. Prior to my getting the above image, I did and there was exactly one. A powder blue one. Just think, with the publication of this post, the population of Mobiluxes on the net will double!



As Dad got older and over his love for shortbeds and '66 Bonnevilles and Catalinas, he downsized substantially and picked up this Fix It Again Tony for Hooning around in. But see those wagons he built in the foreground? He, much like this olelongrooffan, just couldn't stay away from woody wagons. Dad presented the smaller one to my, now 17 year old daughter, on her birthday. Not for her birthday but on her birth day in 1995.

RIP to TheGentlemanFarmer and thanks for the vehicular influence you provided to this olelongrooffan. And for the "pseudo-folksy" writing style you provided to this olelongrooffan to share with my fellow Hoons.

What I Saw Today