Hello again friends. For regular readers of this post, I’m happy (and sad) to report that the TRIBUTE we did for Bob Lazier a few months ago continues to get “views.” They should easily top 1,000 by Christmas. Bob had a lot of friends, and it’s hard to imagine Christmas at the Tivoli without Bob bustling around. Miss ya guy!
You can view the TRIBUTE by going to www.mustangirs.com if you’re so inclined.
With all the buzz created by the FORD v FERRARI flick, I thought you might be interested in a video we shot some years ago as part of an effort to resurrect the Last Shelby King Cobra. The plan was to have the work done, or at least supervised, by the guys who originally built the car. Sound familiar?
Sadly, several of the people in this video are no longer with us. Phil Remington, Chief Engineer and all around wizard (played by Ray McKinnon in the F v F movie) has passed. And of course Shel, who signed the chassis later, is gone too.
Phil Collins master fabricator, also known as “Granny” in Venice, passed shortly after this film was made. He had great stories of sleeping in the London subways as a kid during the WW II “Blitz.” Too bad we didn’t capture them on video.
The late Jerry Titus (Rick’s dad) drove the yellow Can Am chassis #1 in its only two competitive races. It was destroyed in a crash at the end of the 1967 racing season. Jerry told young Rick to “Strip everything you can off that tub and throw in the dumpster.” What would that mangled lump of metal be worth today? Fortunately young Rick did a great job. The doors, duct work and other pieces stripped off #1 have recently been found and will be used to finish chassis #3.
To help you keep the numbers straight, chassis #2 (only 3 were built) has been lovingly restored and is now living in the Northwest.
Number Two at Monterey
As often happens with these projects, life has gotten in the way. The mechanicals for #3 have been found, gathered up and sorted, and the wooden buck needed to shape the aluminum body has been constructed (not cheap ! )
Once the new aluminum body is complete, it’s back to John Collin’s shop, where John’s son Graham will put it all together. Jerry’s son Rick will have the FIRST DRIVE !
Time and money will tell.
Dreams do still happen. This one has just taken a little longer than planned. Hope you enjoy the video.
Looking through the slides for the Bob Lazier Tribute (thanks for all your condolences), I found this gem.
In 1979, Pete Feistman (Bob’s crew chief) and I decided to cross the Gore Range on a seldom used route. Pete incredibly still has the map we used! Those old Nikons took great pictures. What a grand time, hope you enjoy the trip.
In April, my friend Bob Lazier flew by that final checkered flag that waits for us all. I was fortunate to work as one of Bob’s crew members for several years, including when he raced at Indy. In his honor, I’ve created a tribute video.
For a great story about Bob, check out this motorsport.com article about the time when Bob blew away the field at the Indy Legends Pro-Am, at the age of 75, probably the oldest driver in the race, and maybe even the oldest ever to compete.
Butch Cassidy was a nice Mormon boy from Utah who fell in with the a bad crowd, robbed banks and trains, had death defying adventures, founded the Wild Bunch and the Outlaw Trail, made lotsa money, and barely escaped with his life (depending on which legend you chose to believe).
In the summer of ’65, my BYU friend Ray Smith insisted we should go to Wyoming, work in the oil field as roughnecks, have great adventures, make lotsa money, and well you know the rest. Sounded good to me, what could possibly go wrong?
Five hours after leaving Provo Utah in my faithful ’55 Ford, Rock Springs, WY appeared along with a sign that said:
DON’T TELL MY FOLKS I WORK IN THE OIL PATCH. THEY THINK I’M A PIANO PLAYER IN A WHORE HOUSE
That should ‘a been a tip off. After some embellishments as to our experience level, we were offered jobs in Baggs, Wyoming, as part of a crew that, I swear, were all on the run from various southern states. No one had real names, other than “Slim,” “Shorty,” “Butt Head,” or other such handles.
The “pusher,” as the driller is called, had only been able to raise eight guys, so four of us would work 12 hour shifts, noon to midnight, and four guys the reverse, seven days a week. What the heck, we’re here to make money, right?
We were to run a “workover rig” which was already set up on an existing well, and the hope was to coax that well back to life.
Baggs was probably not on anyone’s list of tourist destinations, with one dirt street, a laundromat, a gas station/food store, and a post office. It did have one claim to fame though. The Western Hotel was the hotel/brothel where Butch Cassidy and his gang hid out after robbing the Union Pacific east of Rock Springs.
When word got out that a bunch of guys with saddle bags full of money were in town, all the “professional ladies,” and probably a few semi-pros too, flocked to the Western.
Baggs, 1965. The Western is the two-story white building third from left
The scene where the posse
rides up and asks the proprietor of the Western if he’s seen the Wild Bunch,
while Butch watches from an upstairs window actually took place. Fersher nobody
wanted that damn sheriff ruinin’ the party.
When we started work on the rig, Ray went on one ½ of the crew and I went with the other. A few days later on my shift the drill bit mysteriously “cratered,” which means it fell apart. Major delay and expense. Shortly after that, the drill operator named Buford, let a 1 ½ inch thick cable get loose from its anchor and it almost killed us. My ½ of the crew got fired (yea!). I left my few clothes behind in Baggs, hitchhiked to Rock Springs to get my Ford, and didn’t see Ray until months later at BYU.
By now I knowd a few folks in the orl biddness, so I hired on for a job at the Hiawatha Pumping Station, which is on the CO/WY border. Right on the Outlaw Trail near Browns Park, it’s an hour and a half on a two-track through the sage brush to the nearest anything. The pump station was run by Mountain Fuel Co and had about an 18-inch main line. It collected gas from miles around and pumped it to the Western states’ gas grid. There were three small bunk houses, and it was BYOB everything.
We only worked 40 hours a week, which seemed like a vacation. There were a couple of other college guys with other crews, so we began exploring the area. We also figured out how to run my low-compression, 6-cylinder Ford on “drip gas,” a byproduct of the natural gas wells. WAHOO! Free gas for the summer!
There were abandoned cabins,
corrals, and dug outs everywhere, if you had the patience to look for
them. A great place to hide out. You could see a posse coming for miles, and then
either disappear or lay a clever trap for them.
Inside one particularly remote cabin, I found a denim jacket, which had been patched and patched again with a single needle. No new fabric added. It had been hanging on a nail for a very long time, judging by the newspapers pasted over the cracks in the walls. I like to think whoever found the body lying on the floor gave it a decent burial and just left the jacket behind.
By the time summer was over, I had a complete “Found Wardrobe.”
The rig I was working on was drilling a new well, so it was several times the size of the previous “workover.” The crew was also MUCH more professional, they had most of their fingers and teeth, and spoke in complete sentences. The “pusher” and I got along, so he assigned me to take care of the four motors on the rig, which I quite enjoyed.
There were two skid-mounted Waukesha motors powering the mud pumps. Their radiator caps were 10 feet off the ground. The two motors powering the drill table were 6-cylinder supercharged two strokes made by General Motors. Each cylinder displaced 71 cubic inches, thus they were known as a 6-71 GMC, very popular as bus powerplants. Everything ran on propane from a very large tank set up about 50 yards from the rig.
Once, I noticed all the guys on my crew sprinting as fast as they could, in their rubber boots and coveralls, toward the entrance of our little valley. I quickly decided to join them. The genius delivering a load of propane had ripped the supply hose from our tank and the valley was quickly filing with a fog of explosive vapor!
As we watched from a distance,
the motors all died for lack of fuel and the only sound was the loud hiss of
propane. Somebody (not me) decided since
there was probably no ignition source, he could safely run back into the fog
and shut off the main valve.
That job eventually came to an end, and the pusher said if I wanted to finish out the summer, I could go to work in Jeffery City, WY. Jeff City as the locals call it, claimed the distinction of having the last bar in WY to have swinging doors. It was a stop on the Outlaw Trail, about two days by saddle south of Thermopolis (Thermop) where Butch and the gang often hid out in the OWL bar while planning their next caper.
I don’t think I was ever
happier to leave a place than Jeff City, well except for leaving the Army, and
Provo never looked so good.
In 1968/9 Robert Redford filmed Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid (Bob played Sundance and Paul played Butch) and Bob used the considerable money he earned to buy and develop the Sundance Resort near Provo. His first wife Lola is/was from Provo.
The resort had to have a bar, and Bob wanted to call it the OWL, of course. He heard through a friend of a friend that when the original OWL was knocked or fell down, an old timer had dismantled the actual bar and stored it in a tumble down shed in Thermop.
Of course, Redford HAD to have it. Legend says it wouldn’t all fit into his rental truck, so Bob strapped a few pieces to the top of his car. He had a Porsche 911 Carrera Targa with a ski rack at the time, so I guess that’s possible.
The bar’s not real big, made of Rose Wood, built around 1890, and has some fun stories associated with it (bullet holes and such).
I stopped by when the OWL was completed. A warm, wonderful place, with some very nice folks. As the evening got late it occurred to me that I’d started and ended my Butch Cassidy adventure in Provo, Utah.
After driving past the entrance to Nine Mile Canyon zillions of times, my son Mike and I vowed to dedicate a day to exploring this international landmark right on our doorstep.
The road turns off Hwy 6 at Wellington, near Price UT. You can pick up the free one-page brochure at the Chevron gas station, or load carry map on your phone. The road proceeds east through the canyon to intersect Hwy 40 near Vernal. Why it’s called Nine Mile, being over 40 miles long, is one of the many unexplained mysteries of the canyon. Billed as the WORLD’S LONGEST ART GALLERY, the petroglyphs (an image created by removing part of the rock) and pictographs (images painted on the rock) were drawn by the cultures that lived there for at least 8,000 years.
Loads of academics, including some from my alma mater, BYU in Provo UT, have taken a shot at interpreting the art. This is how it usually goes. Young, ambitious student enters the Anthropology Dept., obtains Bachelor, then Masters, then PhD. Does Post Doc. work and is awarded Asst. Professor title. Older Prof. and mentor retires, now former sudent is promoted to Full Prof. and immediately debunks all previous theories and publishesnew study. Not based on any new info, just a re-jiggering of all conclusions of previous academics. In other words, no one knows, so make up yer own ideas!
Based on the above astute observation, here goes with Nine Mile Canyon according to Yours Truly.
The day was perfect. The skies, the red rocks and the greenery were stunning.The road is now mosty paved (over objections from environmental wackos) to accommodate the gigantic oil trucks that ran both east and west. The trucks are now idled, so traffic is almost non-existent. There is a big natural gas pipeline though, looks like about a 16-incher, that runs through the canyon and is still in business. It takes natural gas from the east end of the Canyon (the Uintah Basin) and pipes it west to intersect the gas grid near Salt Lake City. That grid then runs all the way to the West Coast.
The app on your cell phone or the brochure will tell you where the major art stops are along the way.
One of the most interesting of the hundreds of ‘glyphs I’ll call The Theodolite. You can google that. Looks like the tripod-mounted laser Mike & I use to lay out sewers, foundations and roadways. That would require some basic math, and of course lasers, optics and a few other technologies. Hmmm.
Nearby is what I’ll call Bubble Man. Mike and I couldn’t decide if these were bubbles (natives didn’t have access to soap, that we know of) or if this was a represention of a person approaching in the dark with multiple bright lights. That would indeed be impressive, since the brightest lights the natives had (that we know of) were camp fires, burning sticks and starlight.
Some say it is a representation of Spider Woman, a deity who taught the natives how to weave. That could be. Natives did have access to peyote though, from their trading partners the Hopi and the Navajo to the south, so that could also be an explanation.
Speaking of trading, Utah was and is “The Crossroads of the West.” There was an active slave trade in North America long before the arrival of the white man (with apologies to New York Times 1619 historical revisionists). Passing travelers and war parties would often grab children or young people to use as slaves or as trade goods. As an example, search history.com for Sacagawea. She was kidnapped, enslaved, sold to pay off a gambling debt, married at age 12, and then while pregnant was offered as a guide and interpreter to Lewis & Clark and the Corps of Discovery (1804-6). So much for slavery & racial sterotypes.
Besides the obvious difficulties (being careful not to impose my beliefs onto another culture), slave trading did act as a spike to the gene pool, which decreased the effects of inbreeding.
The horse arrived around 1680 (stolen from Spanish explorers), and that changed everything. Imagine you are a person about 5 ft. tall who eats grass, leaves, berries, and an occasional squirrel, with a top speed of about 10 MPH in a short sprint. Now you sit eight feet off the ground, on something that can move 50 MPH, weighs 2,000 pounds, and you can control it! Suddenly them buffalos, them deers, and them ‘noxious neighbors is ripe fer the killin’!
Nearby was a picture of 16 dots, which looked a lot like a calculator keyboard. Actually, there were two such pictures. Could the natives and their big-brained visitors have used a system of math based on the number 16?
(Special prize to first Electrical Engineer to identify TRIANGULAR WAVE & SINE WAVE diagrams.)
Our present culture uses a system based on the number 10, which we call metrics, while simultaneously employing another system based on the number 12, which we call dozenal. We use that to measure time, but it can also measure distance. It’s a very handy number, being easily broken into 1/2s, 1/4s, 1/8s, and even 1/5s and 1/6s. Try that with yer metrics, Mister “Accurate to the nth decimal!”
The Ancients may have used a system based on the number 16, which our culture has already given the name Hexadecimal, or just plain Hex. You’re probably most familiar with it in computers as a positional locating system. Remember 8 bits, 16 bits, and 32 bits? The movement of the heavenly bodies in the universe has been described as “dancing with math” and Hex could be the tune. It’s the same rhythm my phone app is using to locate me next to the petroglyph in a three-dimensional satellite fix.
Are these positional diagrams for the universe, or at least
for our solar system?
Is the fourth dimension, time, hidden in there somewhere too? Maybe we just can’t see it .
Our culture’s baby steps into space have found methane (natural gas) everywhere in the cosmos. The latest theory is that methane is part of the planet-building process and is captured underground by natural formations. It ain’t rotting dinosaurs! (Check out The Deep Hot Biosphere by Thomas Gold to read more about hydrocarbons seeping UP from the earth.)
This pump station in the canyon pushes the gas toward civilization.
As we came out of the canyon into the small town of Vernal, we passed block after block of oil drilling equipment stacked behind locked gates. A local in the area said there hasn’t been a new well drilled in over two years. Fortunately, we have enough proven reserves to last for at least another 100 trips around our sun on Mother’s spinning clockworks.
For more cool pics, Google NINE MILE CANYON IMAGES.
You can file this story along with the 100 mile per gallon FISH carburetor (GOOGLE that). Some people can see a conspiracy behind every rock, but this one, the 6 CYCLE ENGINE, kinda gets to me.
A few years ago, I co-hosted a one-hour Saturday morning talk show called CAR TIME with Gene & Randy, the owners of a local repair shop. The radio station provided our call screener/producer/D. J. and coffee pot operator named Scotty. Besides being a great guy, Scott knew virtually NOTHING about cars, and somehow that turned out to be an advantage. He could turn a complex question like “My car won’t start and I think it’s the carburetor” into something like “Caller on the line wants to know if he should rebuild his old Pinto, or just follow his girl’s advice and buy a newer car.” Lots more entertaining, and probably more useful than a long technical discussion about carburetion. Scotty’s quick wit could turn a complicated situation into something the audience could understand …. and we could sound intelligent answering.
The CAR TIME show was immediately followed by CAR TALK, the National Public Radio (N. P. R. ) broadcast featuring CLICK & CLACK, The TAPPET BROTHERS. We kinda rode on their coat tails, and were in the same “market demographic.” Station management told us that people who tuned into their show early helped our ratings. By some miracle, ours was the second most listened to locally produced radio show in Utah, right behind the MORMON TABERNACLE CHOIR !
Sometimes we had guest interviews, and a friend suggested to me that we interview Bruce Crower, of Crower Racing Cams, about a new type of engine he was developing. I tracked down Bruce’s number and arranged to have him on the show. Scotty called him a few minutes before 7 A.M. (6 A.M. his time!) and after the opening commercials I introduced Bruce to our audience. I asked him about his revolutionary new 6 CYCLE MOTOR, and he took the next 30 minutes to explain how the 6 CYCLE worked. We were all amazed, and in the second half of the show, minus Bruce, most of our callers were also amazed.
Bruce Crower
Bruce has since gone to that race shop in the sky, but not without patenting the basic concepts. It works like this: The standard 4 cycle, (1) intake stroke, followed by (2) compression stroke, (3) ignition and power stroke, and then (4) exhaust stroke (except the exhaust valve stays partially closed). Bruce called it the re-compression stroke. Now, a shot of WATER is introduced into the dense 2,000+ degree combustion chamber, gases causing a steam explosion that creates a second power stroke (5). This is followed by another exhaust stroke (6) and the cycle starts over.
Crower 6 Stroke motor
Not only is there a 40% increase in fuel economy, but the super-heated water molecules combine with thems nasty carbon dioxides, carbon monoxides, nitrous oxides, and other oxide baddies to create essentially carbonated watervapor coming out of the exhaust pipe.
Voila! Oil crisis, pollution crisis, climate crisis, and maybe a few other crises solved! Not only does it take advantage of the 1,500-to-one expansion ratio of steam (vs about 10 to one for gas or diesel) but the water injection cools the motor also, eliminating the need for a radiator, fan, water pump, and hoses, with their attendant cost, weight and parasitic drag. And the aerodynamics of the front of the vehicle can be cleaned up, with no need for an opening to cool the radiator. In a big diesel, all that water handling equipment can weigh over 1,000 pounds, which can now go toward payload.
Yeah, you need another tank about the size of the fuel tank to hold distilled water (or do as Bruce did…..just collect rain water) plus a high pressure water injection system similar to a diesel fuel injector, but these two things quickly pay for themselves.
Why the 6 CYCLE concept never took off, I have no idea. N.P.R. did a whole hour interview with Bruce (THEM SCUM BAGS obviously stole the idea from us !) and the patent has zillions of views. Some big companies like Ford have looked into it ….. but I think it’s a conspiracy by big oil to suppress this new technology, just like the FISH carburetor!
Thanks to Louis Floquet of Crower Cams & Equip. Co. for
reviewing this article.
My son and I left Van Nuys early one morning headed south to the Shelby facility in Gardena. Traffic Alert said there was a wild fire on the east side of the 405 through the Sepulveda Pass, and we wanted to avoid the inevitable traffic jams. Sitting in a Chevron gas station, loading up on coffee for our journey, we could see traffic was already beginning to slow. Once on the 405, we crested the Pass just as traffic stopped. The fire had started on the east side, easily vaulted the multi lane freeway and was now on the west side, licking at the concrete walls of The Getty Museum. As we sat there, along with everyone else, I asked Mike if he’d like to hear the connection between The Getty and the Chevron drink cups we were holding.
Too bad… you have to hear the story anyway.
In the mid eighties, the C.E.O. of Pennzoil, Hugh Liedtke had a problem. Pennz had great retail distribution, but lacked refinery capacity and oil- in- the- ground to be able to compete with the big guys. Getty Oil–founded by J. Paul Getty (1892 – 1976), at the time the world’s richest man–had more oil than it could possibly use and plenty of refinery capacity, but lacked distribution channels. It could be a marriage made in heaven.
Liedtke had been trying to buy Getty for some time, and finally through contacts in the art world found a sympathetic ear in the person of Gordon P. Getty. Gordon owned 40% of Getty Oil stock and also was a trustee of The Getty Museum. The Museum owned an aditional 11.8 % and if Liedtke could convince Gordon and the other trustees to sell, he would control Getty Oil.
Gordon was third generation and much more interested in opera than the oil business. Most of the other trustees were second generation and were getting on in years. After appropriate schmoozing, Liedtke offered Gordon and the other trustees 110 dollars per share. The stock typically traded for around $50, but the oil- in- the- ground said it was worth more like $100. A hand shake deal was struck at $112 and lawyers started drawing up the papers.
Liedtke was ecstatic.
Days later he woke up to news from New York that Texaco had
purchased Getty Oil for $125 a share.
“I’ll sue the bastards!” were the first words out of his mouth, and that’s what he swiftly did, under the legal construct of tortious interference. T. I. is similar in the contract world to alienation of affection in the domestic world. If someone interfers with a settled arrangement–i.e. Some scum bag seduces your wife and she leaves you–you can sue the bastard foralienating her affections. Yea I know, don’t try that today. That law was written a long time ago.
After two years of legal manuvering, a jury trial was finally convened in Houston. It was billed as DAVID v GOLIATH, with the much smaller Pennzoil taking on the eighth largest corportion in America, owning properties in all 50 states and Canada. News acounts of the day bragged that Texaco had spent over 11 million dollars on scores of attorneys just preparing for the trial.
Joe Jamail, Pennzoil’s lead attorney, always wore Italian-made cowboy boots with zippers on the sides, and western-cut suits when working in Texas. In the sixth week of the trial, Joe looked up at the spectator area and saw John McKinley, C.E.O.of Texaco, sitting in the gallery. Joe whispered to his assistant Susan, “Get as fast as you can to the clerk’s office and get a subpoena to put Mr. McKinley on the witness stand.”
There was no way Pennzoil could have extradited McKinley from New York to Texas to appear in a civil proceeding, but there he was. And by God he was going to testify !
If the head of a major corporation is going to testify at trial, his legal team will spend days, if not weeks, coaching him on every possible question he could be asked, and exactly how to respond. But not today.
John McKinley, a decorated World War II hero and a real life Wall Street Titan, was dressed befitting a man of his stature and surrounded by his personal assistants. He had flown in on his private jet to get a look at what the whole financial worid was talking about.
On the stand, Joe asked John if he remembered the Wall Street Journal story on January 5, 1984 stating that Pennzoil had reached an agreement to buy Getty Oil. John couldn’t remember.
When Joe asked him if it was true that 50 copies of The
Journal were delivered to Texaco headquarters every day, John couldn’t remember. The
jury squirmed.
When Joe asked him if he could remember anyone at Getty refering to the situation as “A bird in the hand,” John couldn’t remember. The jury looked at the ceiling.
When Joe asked him if he knew what “A bird in the hand”
meant, John didn’t know.
McKinley had been circling of the drain, but now he headed straight down the tube!
The trial was schedueled for twelve more weeks, with the
jurors earning a whopping $6 a day. Joe
wrapped up his arguments and rested his case, further endearing himself to the jurors.
They found Texaco guilty, and awarded Pennzoil almost 11 BILLION DOLLARS in damages! No matter who you are or how big you are, no one can take a hit like that.
Texaco filed for a defensive bankrupcy, and in a very unusual move, Pennzoil continued pursuing them into bankrupcy court. It was almost like opening the grave and robbing the corpse. An appeals judge finally reduced the award, but penalty and interest charges were mounting at 3 million per day, and attorney fees were in the tens of millions. Pennzoil had to fight Texaco’s secured creditors but finally managed to scrape out about 3 BILLION DOLLARS.
Now that the grave had been ravaged, Chevron Oil came by and picked up the bones, fired most of Texaco’s management, and merged the operation into Chevron’s San Ramon CA headquarters. Some retail outlets were sold to Shell, and thousands more were re-branded CHEVRON / TEXACO, apparently in a bid to retain loyal Texaco customers.
Traffic on the 405 was starting to move. The sun was brightening the sky and J. Paul’s solid concrete structure had withstood the flames. The story and the coffee were both finished, so we put the truck in gear and headed south to Shelby’s shop to build beautiful cars …. on another beautiful California day!
To paraphrase
William Faulkner, “The past is never
dead, and today it pays good money.”
The success of the Ford v Ferrari movie (4 Oscar nominations and 2 wins), which is set in the mid 60’s, is a story of life, death, love and brotherhood, all fueled by that universal solvent money. At last count the movie has generated over 225 million dollars.
The design talent that helped Ford defeat Ferrari was, and is, my friend Peter Brock . Peter has received several LIFETIME ACHIEVMENT awardS, recognizing his design work starting when he was a teenager. He penned the Cobra Daytona Coupe, which brought America its first and only F.I.A. Grand Touring Championship in 1965. He is now an entrepreneur, prize winning author and speaker. This reflects the love and respect the automobile world has for Peter and his work, including those early days when Carroll defeated Enzo. I have a tee shirt dated 1964 that says “NEXT YEAR FERRARI’S ASS IS MINE.” Love it.
This post features an interview I did with Peter for the
Shelby American Auto Club quarterly way back
in the mid 70’s. It still resonates
today. Rick & the gang at S.A.A.C. were kind enough to dig out the old issue and
send me a scan.
As Peter says in the interview, Shel was no dummy when it came to making a buck. By the decade of the 70’s he was no longer making Cobras, no longer associated with Ford, and was watching a new industry known as “kit cars” sell 427 Cobra bodies and even completed cars with no questions asked. The now defunct magazine from which I copied the pictures below listed 36 different companies selling Cobra bodies.
“Guaranteed to attract chicks, will fit any frame, even a VW floor pan.”
Carroll came up with
the idea that under the legal term of TRADE DRESS, which protects the appearance of a product (you can’t sell a soft drink in a bottle that
resenbles a Coke bottle) he ought to own
the shape of the 427 Cobra roadster, as well as the 289, the Daytona Coupe, and a few other Shelby
cars.
Car manufactures in that era were focused on THE FUTURE and didn’t give a _ _ _ _ about last year, much less 10 or 20 years ago. Owning the past was really unheard of in the business. Carroll thought otherwise, and after a few false starts and some expensive appeals, he began winning lawsuits and collecting judgments against the makers of Cobra knock-offs. The rest, as they say, is history.
Today every car company has a Licensing Division, which sometimes brings them more dollars than selling their cars, with no risk or capital investment !! When Hot Wheels makes a toy in the shape of a ’57 Thunderbird, even if they don’t use the name, the good folks at Ford get a piece of the sales price. Same with after market body panels. Even interior structural parts that no one will ever see … if it resembles a piece that came out of a Ford stamping die in 1965, you pay ! My friends the Kirkhams, based in Provo UT, just completed their 1,000th aluminum Cobra, and a part of the $100,000 (more or less) purchase price of each one goes to the modern day Shelby organization. Good on ‘em.
What makes this car
from the past worth all that money ? The
Shelby name comes with the love, life, death, brotherhood, that the Ford v Ferari movie celebrates. The past is still not past, and it now pays really good money.
Ol’ Shel was one of
the first to recognize the sales potential of all that, especially when wrapped up in a beautiful body.
Er…… maybe I should rephrase that. Anyway, until next time, thanks for listening.
Hello again digital friends, and welcome to 2020. “If I’d known I would live this long I’d taken better care of myself.” comes to mind. Those of us who’ve known each other a long time can nod in solemn agreement to that. “I spent the money on fast cars & fast women, and the rest I just wasted” kinda fits too, doesn’t it ?
The big news this month is ROAD & TRACK named the O.V.C. Mustang we built in Peter Brock’s shop one of the 10 favorite cars they’ve driven this DECADE ! How cool is that ?
By Road & Track staff, December 24, 2019
They said:
Given that we’re the staff of Road & Track, you might expect that we’re only interested in the unattainable supercars that dot magazine covers at airports across the world. But the best cars do more for us than the latest supercars; they accompany us on adventures, mark important moments in our lives, or open up entirely new frames of reference by which all future cars will be judged.
That’s not to say there aren’t insane, unattainable cars on this list. It just means that they’re accompanied by cars that defined points in our lives, pins on the map of where the past 10 years took us. From priceless race cars to barely running beaters, these are the cars that’ll linger in our minds long into the next decade.
1865 Ford Mustang Shelby GT350R (DW Burnett/Puppy Knuckles)
This job revolves around driving new cars, but it’s the classic stuff that always sticks with me long after I’ve handed back the keys. Take this ’65 Mustang fastback. It’s not merely a clone of a Shelby GT350R. It’s the car that Shelby and company could have built, if a few things had gone differently—with an independent rear suspension that Shelby’s crew experimented on, but ultimately shelved before they could ever race or build it.
This Mustang, built by “The Original Venice Crew,” guys who worked at Shelby American back in 1965, is one of just 36 that will be built with the newly-rediscovered independent rear suspension. It does everything you don’t want in a modern car. It’s shatteringly loud, straight exhaust clamoring in an interior made mostly of naked sheet metal. It’s rough to drive, unhappy below 2500 RPM. It’s demanding, with about four inches of slack in the manual steering, and brakes that yearn to lock up at the least forgiving moment. It smells like raw gasoline, hot metal, and gear oil.
In other words, it’s perfect. Old cars teach you things that new cars assume you never wanted to learn. My time in the OVC Mustang was short, but it revealed more about the inner workings of performance cars than a half-decade of reviewing modern machinery ever did. In other words, it was perfect.
Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear…. the fictional Lone Ranger has nothing on the real events depicted in the movie Ford v Ferrari. It stars Christian Bale as Ken Miles and Matt Damon as Carroll Shelby.
If you haven’t seen it yet, go now… it’s great fun. It tells the story of Henry Ford II and his quest to defeat Ferrari and prove Ford doesn’t “just make fat cars.” The media coverage has been massive, and it’s being touted as a sure Oscar winner. Talk about publicity. Wow!
Just out of curiosity, what is having the FORD name on billboards, on TV and in the movies worth to the Ford and Shelby brands? Turns out there‘s an app for that. Entertainment Resources & Marketing Association (E.R.M.A.), located in lovely Palm Desert CA, keeps track of such things. If you want star X to be seen carrying/wearing/drinking your brand, this is Who Ya Gonna Call.
What started out as product placement, where a can of Coke appears in a camera shot, has now grown to where Steve McQueen always drives a Bullitt Mustang, James Bond always drives an Aston Martin, while wearing a Rolex, and drinking Bollinger champagne.
Partying with Edsel Ford II and Aaron Shelby
E.R.M.A. was no help with my question, but I have some friends in the marketing business, so I thought I’d see if they could help me put a number on this kind of exposure for the Ford and Shelby brand.
Modern day marketing seems to be full of fun terms such as:
BRAND AWARENESS
MEDIA EXPOSURE
NAME RECOGNISION
SOCIO METRIC STATUS
ETC. ETC.
Companies pay BIG BUCKS to get their names in front of their target market. (Stay with me, we’ve got a lot more ad speak ahead.) A second of screen time or a glance at a billboard, multiplied by the number of viewers, is used as justification for spending the bucks.
F v F opened with a $37,000,000 weekend box office in the U.S. (52.4 mill globally). For ease of calculation, we’ll use a $10 ticket price. That’s 3.7 million U.S. buyers looking at the names Ford and Shelby for 2 ½ hours. And it didn’t cost either of them a dime! In marketing lingo that’s brand awareness … with a turbo.
The main narrative is Ford vs Ferrari, but the subplot is Shelby vs the Ford bureaucracy. So maybe not everyone will leave with a positive impression of Ford. Don’t worry. My friend Shelby once said, “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.” Or was that P. T. Barnum …. no matter, same difference.
Next, let’s look at demographics. Reuters said 80% of F v F ticket buyers were males over the age of 25 (talk about hitting your prime market !) and audiences rated the film a rare A+. That could drive sales! We’ll break those males down by income in a few moments.
How about political awareness (correctness)?NEW YORKER magazine, that paragon of hipness said, “This is definitely a Boys Will Be Boys movie. It’s a film about male pride, insults resulting in fights, and a bewildering rarity: the non-sappy happy family. Ken’s wife reads Better Living while watching her husband engaged in a fist fight.“ Oh well, they thought it was beautifully filmed though, so I guess that’s something.
I’d cancel my subscription if I had one!
The P. C. score is in the dumper. None of us could decide if that will help or hurt potential sales.
I love this one: socio metric status. Basically this is the respect and admiration of your peers. Once all our material needs are met, we adopt products and symbols to indicate our membership in a group, and our status within that group. With all the attention this movie is receiving, if you’re a Ford guy, or a Shelby guy, you may gain new respect from the masses and your peers. Or at least that’s the theory.
If you own a branded Shelby product you will receive extra adulation. Shelby put his name on all kinds of stuff, from cars to pickup trucks, to bicycles, to an underarm deodorant named Pit Stop — great name! And of course to a beer, and being a Texan Ol’ Shel also has his own chili seasoning, available, believe it or not, right now at your local grocery store.
Hot & cold!
Slipping deeper into this Orwellian Rabbit Hole, there is something called a Dunbar’s Number, which quantifies how many people you know (Facebook?) and how likely you are to influence them. If you paid for the movie with a credit card, or better yet a movie discount card, the big advertisers know who you are, your occupation, spending habits and amounts, where you live, the approximate worth of your home based on your neighborhood (Zillow?). That and other factors determine whether or not you are a “thought leader” and an “influencer.” The more likely you are to be either of these, the higher your number, and the more your contact information will sell for. Expect to be getting sales flyers from local car dealers or an invitation to a special event.
Most of my friends know I’m full of chili byproduct, and I will have zero to negative influence on any of them.
Bottom line, none of us dared put a dollar value on all this media exposure and brand awareness, but it’s gotta be worth a TON! Way more than even a multi-billion dollar car company could afford to buy.
Here’s hoping my friends at Ford and Shelby have to get bigger shoe boxes to store all their money .
ME AND SHEL WITH THE DAYTONA COUPE* Weren’t those far-out fashions groovy? Lynn Park photo
Having known Shel since the early days, and owned and driven a few of his cars, it’s nice to see that era come back into the collective consciousness. Nobody wants to hear an old f – – – rambling on about those were the days. But this movie does, and does it much better than I ever could. Yea, those were great times. I’m glad I was there!
Footnote: This was taken in 1976, at the first Shelby American Auto Club (SAAC) convention in Oakland CA. Shel had spent the entire afternoon in the parking lot autographing cars, and he was resting in the shade (this was pre-transplant). I got a moment to ask him if he’d read the interview with Pete Brock I wrote, which SAAC published in one of their first quarterlies, then just a pamphlet. I ‘d spent most of a day riding around with Pete picking up parts for his hang gliders with a portable recorder and a mic hanging on the rear view mirror. Shel said “I LOVED IT” got out of his chair, walked past the rope protecting the Coupe, posed the picture and had Lynn Park take the shot. Lynn sent me an 8 X 10 later. It’s one of my most precious moments.
