"Modified"

I made some nasty comments in my F&F blog about modifications to imports.  I suppose it might be more appropriate to revisit the issue in general.

As I mentioned earlier, traditionally the cars most likely to be modified were Firebirds, Camaros, Mustangs, etc., but people have been modifying cars since they were invented: the Model T has aftermarket parts listed for it in 1920s Sears and Montgomery Ward catalogs.

 Here are some of the more popular modifications.

 Intake.  The theory is that cars make power by adding fuel to air and igniting it correctly.  Since the fuel added is dependent on the amount of air, and there’s only so much spark you can give it, ultimately the way to maximize power is to maximize air.  The crudest and most obvious way is simply displacement: a larger engine.  Leaving aside complete engine swaps, and assuming you simply want to optimize the performance of the engine already sitting under the hood of your car, here is how you do it.

            Performance intake manifolds and K&N air filters are the most popular modifications.  The former are usually aluminum and the aftermarket manufacturers claim to use CAD/CAM designing to ensure better airflow and better performance.   So they claim.  There are several catches to this.

            First, the intake system is only as efficient as its least restrictive element.  Opening up a part which was not the bottleneck in the first place will have no effect.

            Second, depending on the compression ratio and cylinder heads, the engine can only ingest a limited quantity of air.  Opening the intake larger than that not only won’t help, but if it decreases the velocity of the incoming air, will actually hurt performance.  This is why K&N filters, despite their claims of higher air flow than the stock air filter, usually don’t deliver noticeable performance gains because the engine doesn’t need any more air than the stock filter can deliver.

            Having said that, I do have a TPIS Big Mouth lower intake and SLP runners, plus an SLP throttle body with an airfoil.  I can’t say I’ve noticed a huge difference with the Big Mouth (which is Edelbrock’s model ported out a bit more); the main benefit is theoretically increased top end.  The OEM TPI baseplate was designed for a 305, and I have a 350.  Whether that makes a difference at streetable RPMs is something I’ve yet to hear explained.

 Camshaft.  Rodders love to replace the camshaft, which is what controls how the valves open and close – how far open (lift) and for how long (duration).  A hot cam gives the car a nasty, lopey idle – close to what we think of when we hear a Harley engine - but kills the low-end torque.  I haven’t replaced my cam yet, though I have the new cam in my possession (Crane with 214/220 @ 050” duration).  A bad cam will make the car fail emissions and make it unpleasant to drive on the street, a high price to pay for a lopey idle.

 Carburetor/chip.  Older cars can sometimes see a benefit with a carb change, mainly 2 barrel models upgraded to 4 barrels with the appropriate intake manifold.  Notice that NASCAR still uses ONE carburetor, so a dual quad on a street car may well be overkill; best to use a reasonably sized and properly tuned 4 barrel carburetor (Rochester Quadrajet, Holley, Carter AFB/Edelbrock).   Late model EFI cars can benefit from a performance chip; these remap the fuel curve for more power and a more aggressive ignition curve while still keeping emissions compliance.  I replaced the chip on my base Firebird (5.0L TBI) and my Formula has the SLP chip for its 5.7L TPI V8.

            I found out the hard way that TPI systems prefer working injectors and fuel pressure regulator, which you would think would be common sense.  I was thrown off by a speed shop and two dealers claiming my engine was worn out.  Another speed shop correctly diagnosed the fuel system as the real problem, and now that these parts have been replaced – without a new engine – the car passed emissions and accelerates as it hasn’t done in years.

 Cylinder Heads.  Expensive, but since this is the heart of the intake/exhaust system (along with the camshaft) it pays to pay attention here.  I have yet to be able to afford aftermarket heads, or even to have my cast iron heads ported with a 3 angle valve job, but I’d definitely upgrade when the money allowed. 

 Ignition.  Here is one mod that is way overrated.  The aftermarket companies claim huge horsepower gains, when the reality is that even their heavily touted systems really give practically no benefit over the OEM system.  The most that can be said is that a properly set up ignition system – plugs, wires, cap & rotor – are essential, but the difference between a properly set up OEM system vs. an aftermarket system is almost impossible to tell.

 Exhaust.  The flip side of the intake is the exhaust.  This usually means headers and mufflers, with a catalytic converter (cat) in between on any car made from 1975 onward.  By now they’ve developed cats which flow enough not to compromise performance, so there’s really no excuse for removing the cat and losing emissions compliance.  The muffler has no emissions role and simply reduces the sound.  A good muffler can improve performance and give a bad-ass sound, so this is one area where the money is well spent.  The main caveat here is that a muffler that’s too loud will get annoying (particularly for female passengers) and attract unwanted police attention.

 Transmission.  On an automatic, the best mods are shift kits which bump up the shift points and firm up the shifts.  A firmer shift improves the longevity of the transmission, and may even cause the tires to “chirp” on gear changes.  A properly modified A/T can frequently push the car to competitive performance with a similarly-equipped manual transmission car.  Also, a higher stall converter can improve the car’s speed if picked correctly.  Of course, you can replace the transmission itself for an upgrade: swap out your Turbo 350 for a 400, your C4 for a C6, your Torqueflite 904 for a 727, or replace any of these with the modern, electronically controlled, overdrive variants for better fuel economy and reliability with no loss in torque capacity or performance.

            For manual transmission cars, the better mods are better clutches and even full trans upgrades.  Although I’ve always preferred and owned automatic cars, my choice for a manual would be a Richmond Six Speed.  This has a 1:1 fifth gear with the sixth gear being overdrive. 

 Rear Gears.  Stock cars tend to have rear axle ratios in the neighborhood of 2.73-3.55.  Some rare cars have 4.11 or 4.33 gears from the factory.  My own Formula came with 3.23 gears in the back, which I upgraded to 3.73.  A higher numerical gear ratio will improve the low-end acceleration but limit the top end, but since we never drive at 120 mph we’d never notice the latter part of the tradeoff but certainly notice the former part, i.e. the benefit.  Warning:  Richmond gears are VERY noisy – and annoyingly so.  I went with Precision Gears, which were much quieter.  When you replace the rear gears you definitely have to replace the speedometer gears, or the speedometer will be way off, like 10-15 mph.

 Suspension.  The best mods here are upgrading shocks to performance varieties and adding sway bars to cars that didn’t already have them.  Stiffer springs usually don’t help nearly enough to justify the far harsher ride quality they inflict.  A car that handles well is more fun to drive, and suspension mods have no emissions impact.  I even put a rear bar on my Neon – Neons have excellent aftermarket support as they were popular in some SCCA classes – and it did much better.

 Wheels/Tires.  Usually this means larger wheels with lower aspect ratios.  I was lucky that my Formula already had 16x8” wheels fitting a 245/50ZR16 tire.  The OEM Gatorbacks were never that good, and over the years I’ve upgraded to Dunlop SP4000s, Goodyear Eagle F1 GS, and most recently Firestone Firehawk Indy 500s.  The tire selection in this size has shrunk dramatically since I bought my car back in 1995. 

            Do NOT cheap out on tires.  Crappy tires are terrible: the car feels uncontrollable in the rain, a real terror to drive.  Good tires grip the road and keep the car ON the road when it rains.  Pay the money to get the good tires.  It’s worth it.

 Brakes.  No one really cares about this much, and I haven’t upgraded my brakes except to slotted rotors in front and keeping with OEM GM pads on all 4 wheels, which are MUCH quieter than aftermarket pads.  Here’s one area I leave well enough alone and stick with GM stuff.  Besides which, I haven’t modified the car enough to make an upgrade necessary.

 Nitrous.  Made famous in the F&F movies.  Nitrous oxide – yes, the same stuff we used for general anesthesia back in the 70s – gets injected with fuel and gives a huge bump in HP…while the bottle lasts, activated at wide open throttle, and IF the engine doesn’t grenade in the process.  Hot Rod (or was it Car Craft) even did an article where they juiced a stock engine just to see how much it could endure before blowing up.  Nitrous kits are far cheaper than superchargers or turbos, but have those important drawbacks. 

 Supercharger/Turbocharger.  As mentioned earlier, the engine can only take in so much air by itself.  To add more air than the pistons can draw in on their own, an air pump can be used.  Either it’s run off a belt from the crank pulley – a supercharger – or uses exhaust gases to spool a turbine, which is linked to another turbine on the intake side, i.e. a turbocharger.  Turbos need a bit of time for the gases to spool up the turbine – turbo lag – while superchargers come on right away.  Centrifugal superchargers can fit under the hood, whereas Roots style typically tend to stick way up out of the hood – although in recent years they’ve begun designing extremely low-profile models which will fit under the stock hood.  None of these kits are cheap, but they do make some serious horsepower.

 Stroker Kits.  These replace the stock crankshaft with one with a larger stroke, which typically increases torque while limiting top RPM.  The kit includes new pistons, the full reciprocating assembly, i.e. crank, connecting rods, pistons, and piston rings.  One of the more popular stroker kits is a 383 combo for the 350 small block Chevy V8 – the crank from a 400 in a 350 block.

 Crate Engines.  These range from short blocks (the block and reciprocating assembly minus the heads), long block (same, but with heads), all the way to turnkey motors ready to be dropped into a car.  The ZZ4 has been a popular Chevy 350 crate engine, and GM has upgraded its 454 HO (LS6) with 502, 540, and 572 cubic inch big blocks, plus crate versions of highly sophisticated late model EFI engines; as you can imagine, they aren’t cheap.  Mopar Performance has reissued the 426 Hemi as a crate engine, and upped the ante with a 528 cubic inch version of the same engine.  The V10 Viper engine is also available in crate form for those with a wallet large enough to pay for it.

 Top Aftermarket Companies.  The most popular are:  Edelbrock (intakes, cylinder heads, carbs, cams, and more recently crate engines and suspension products), Crane (camshafts), Lunati (cams, stroker kits), Holley (carburetors), AFR (cylinder heads), Hooker (headers), Flowmaster (exhaust), SLP (late model EFI cars), Lingenfelter (late model EFI cars), MSD (ignition), Paxton & Vortech (superchargers), Gale Banks (turbo), NOS (nitrous), B&M (automatic transmissions), Richmond Gear (rear gears and manual transmissions) just to name a few.   GM Performance Parts, Ford Motorsports, and Mopar Performance also make aftermarket parts for their brands and a wide and impressive array of crate engines.

            While they can be very expensive, crate engines come with extended warranties, are put together intelligently with mutually compatible parts for a specific intended purpose (stock replacement, high performance street/strip, or full race), and are brand new.  When replacing like with like (e.g. one-piece rear main seal late model small block Chevy V8) it’s simply a matter of pulling one engine and replacing it with another.

 Warnings.  By now we’ve learned to take the aftermarket suppliers’ claims of horsepower gains with a grain of salt.  They typically diss the OEM engineers as incompetent hacks diligently trading off HP to satisfy federal emissions and fuel economy standards, whereas their own wizards know how to unlock obscene amounts of horsepower.  The reality is that the car companies hire smart engineering students and spend $$$ trying to figure out the best system before an engine is even stuffed into a prototype, much less put into a production car sold to the public.  I’ve read an article which showed absolutely no HP gains from various aftermarket intake manifolds over the OEM Pontiac 4 barrel cast iron intake; the stock Pontiac cam grinds, all the way up to the Ram Air IV cam, were likewise intelligently designed and do well when properly selected.

            The major problem is that the fiduciaries we “trust” - Hot Rod, Car Craft, and the local speed shop – all have a vested interest in maintaining the fiction that the aftermarket products are better than what came on your car from the factory.  The car magazines can’t afford to alienate their advertisers; their installations invariably occur with no snafus or missing parts, and the aftermarket part ALWAYS performs as promised, which we know almost never happens in real life.  Unfortunately, there is no Consumer Reports for the automobile aftermarket.  The speed shop makes its money selling you these parts and installing them for you, so they naturally want to sell you the most expensive upgrade, e.g. a custom-built, balanced and blueprinted engine, when your stock engine just needs new injectors and a fuel pressure regulator and it will be on its way.      

Charley Varrick and Hopscotch

For years, our family was subjected to an obscure Walter Matthau film from 1980, “Hopscotch”, about an involuntarily retired CIA officer, Miles Kendig, who decides to write unauthorized memoirs and leads his erstwhile comrades and the KGB on a humorous wild goose chase across Europe and the US.  My father loved the film and had memorized half the lines, much to our annoyance, but the memories of his obsession are now endearing and sentimental since he’s been gone. 

 Matthau had an earlier film in a similar vein, from 1973, “Charley Varrick”.  He plays a small-time crook, a former crop dusting/barnstormer, who robs a small New Mexico bank with his comrade, Harland (Andrew Robinson, the “Scorpio” killer in “Dirty Harry” and much later, Garak, the Cardassian tailor/spy on “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine”).  When the pair count the loot back at Charlie’s trailer after a successfully getaway, Charlie realizes they have a major problem.  Instead of $5,000 – the likely contents of a small town bank vault – they have $750,000, which is probably Mob money.  So now instead of just the local sheriff (William Schallert, the station manager in “Trouble With Tribbles”) they have a mob hitman, played by Joe Don Baker (best known for playing Felix Leiter, Bond’s CIA counterpart, in the early Sean Connery Bond films) chasing after them; the Mob won’t bother with search warrants and habeas corpus, and won’t give up until he’s dead.  Even John Vernon, aka “Dean Wurmer” from “Animal House”, is in here as the main mobster trying to get his money back.  The rest of the film is Varrick’s clever scheme to evade the hitman and cover his tracks, permanently.  It’s very entertaining, an underrated 70s action adventure film.

 “Hopscotch” is based on a novel for which the plot is – for all intents and purposes – the same as the movie, though the movie is somewhat more humorous and lighthearted than the novel.  Kendig is brought back to Langley for a desk job, an assignment he definitely does not enjoy.  He abruptly leaves the Agency and begins writing his memoirs.  He mails each chapter of the manuscript directly to his former superior (Ned Beatty) and to his counterpart at the KGB.  The KGB man is considerably more amused than Beatty, but both agree that Kendig is airing dirty laundry which could cause both sides a lot of problems.  Unfortunately, catching him is quite a challenge:  he never stays in one place long enough and is constantly throwing them off the trail, sometimes in a very mocking fashion:  at one point he rents Beatty’s summer house in South Carolina, which the FBI then shoot up.  He’s assisted by Glenda Jackson (I believe her character was absent from the book), an Austrian aristocrat who appreciates his sense of humor, as exasperating as it is sometimes.   His replacement, Joe Cutter (Sam Waterston) is in awe of his mentor and acutely recognizes the futility of the apprentice trying to beat the master at his own game.  Finally – as you can imagine – Kendig sews the whole thing up quite convincingly.  As often as I’ve seen it, I can still recommend it to anyone who hasn’t been subjected to it countless times. 

Another One Rides The Bus

Awhile back I commented on school bus memories.  After a recent trip up to NJ by “Chinatown” bus, I can comment on inter-city bus travel as well.

 Back when we lived in the US, before moving to Paris in January 1979, we must have taken a few bus trips to New York.  I recall we went to my cousin Colleen’s wedding in Glens Falls.  We had to switch buses in NYC at the main bus terminal.  I do recall at least one other trip to NYC by bus.  We’d take a Greyhound bus from the terminal in DC, which was next to Union Station.

 In 1995 I went up to Flint, Michigan with my best friend Phil, to purchase a 1968 Pontiac Firebird 400.  The owner claimed he’d meet us at the bus terminal in Detroit, then abruptly changed his mind.  We had to get a cab to the airport, rent a car there, and drive up to Flint to see the car – which we couldn’t buy.  The return trip was in the rental car.  Driving back by rental car, we could take a much more direct route than the bus took: no delays going through Pittsburgh or Cleveland on the way back.  The bus trip up was overnight, with a 3 a.m. stopover in Cleveland.  This is, so far as I can remember, the only overnight bus ride I’ve taken, and I had no more luck sleeping than I ever do on overnight flights. 

 More recently, my friend’s younger daughter would travel to and from DC to NYC by BoltBus, for which the drop-off was somewhere in DC (NY Ave).  With my car acting up – a repair should fix the problem soon – making long distance travel iffy, I tried the Chinatown bus, which was just $40 round trip.  I left from Rosslyn and got off in Hoboken, then picked it up in downtown Manhattan for the trip back.  It took a bit longer than it would have had I driven, but I saved $100 in gas and $38 in tolls, a net savings of $100.  I could read, listen to my iPod, and recharge my cell phone with the plug socket. 

 On one hand, it’s a great relief not to have to drive.  There is little risk the bus will break down on you.  You can sit back and relax, and read; and on this trip, the bus made very short trips (15 minute stops) at rest stops along the way.   Since the bus is higher up off the road, you get a better view as you go along, and can pay attention to things which otherwise you’d miss focused on the road ahead of you.

   

 On the other hand, you’re limited to the exact bus schedule:  your ticket is only good for THAT time (no cancellations).  You have to pick up and get off at specific spots which are not all that convenient; it also restricts your flexibility at changing plans.   I’m not convinced the benefits outweigh the costs, even allowing for the lower total price.

 Bus vs. Plane.  For cross-country trips (down to Florida or over to L.A.) you really can’t beat the plane.  But for short hops, e.g. DC to NY, the quick flight is less competitive due to time spent getting to the airport and going through security.  There is NO security on buses: you just hop on.  Your friends, relatives and loved ones can see you off at the bus itself and be there at the stop when you arrive.  

 Bus vs. Train.  Security-wise both are the same: none.  The train is immune to traffic issues which snarl buses as well as your car.  The rail lines typically snake their way through a seedier part of town than the highways, giving a much different view.  I haven’t been on any high speed trains, so most train rides take about as much time as an equivalent bus trip.  

Trial of the Century

As an attorney, I’m often asked by non-attorneys about high profile cases, which in the most recent news would be the Casey Anthony trial.  As a general matter I tend to ignore them, but here I ended up watching some of the proceedings and getting a vague and general idea of what was going on.  The general feeling I could gauge, judged by almost all of the relevant Facebook postings I’ve seen, was that the woman literally got away with murder – that the jury failed in its job.

 My own impression is somewhat different.  There seemed to be absolutely no evidence that Casey actually killed her daughter.  In fact, the jury even returned not guilty verdicts on the manslaughter/neglect charges.  What we really have is a general consensus that Caylee died on her watch – we don’t know how – and Casey covered it up.  The belief that Casey is legally responsible for her daughter’s death, somehow, is difficult to reconcile with a not guilty verdict.

 May I remind the public that the standard of evidence in a criminal case – yes, even in Florida – is “beyond a reasonable doubt”.  “I think she probably did it” does not cut it.  By applying the standard even if they really believe she did it, but aren’t satisfied that the prosecution has met the evidentiary burden required, takes some excellent judgment and discretion on the part of the jury; they should be praised for doing their duty and not condemned for letting a murderer walk free. 

 The Founding Fathers were well aware that placing the burden on the prosecution and giving the defendant every benefit of the doubt is going to mean some very lucky (or careful) murderers walking free on the streets.  The alternative is Stalinist Russia:  Stalin himself was aware that many of his victims of the purges in 1937 were probably completely innocent, but he’d rather kill innocents than risk any potential threats to escape revolutionary justice.  I don’t think any of us would want to be convicted of a crime we didn’t commit simply because the jury thinks we “probably did it.” 

 Contrast this with the standard in a civil case, which is “a preponderance of the evidence”.  Here, “I think she probably did it” does cut it.  And the result is not jail time or a gas chamber, but compensatory and punitive damages, possibly in the millions. 

 Look at the O.J. Simpson cases.   In October 1995 the criminal jury acquitted him of murdering Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman.  Why they did so is up for speculation:  the general consensus seems to be that the jury had no good faith reasonable doubt as to his guilt but simply acquitted him as a “f**K you” to the LAPD.  I think that’s probably true.  But what people forget is that in February 1997, a completely different jury found Simpson liable for the same deaths in a wrongful death (civil) action: and awarded a $33.5 million verdict against him. 

 If anyone has standing to sue Casey Anthony in a civil case for the death of Caylee – e.g. whoever her father is, and I couldn’t tell who that was – the outcome will probably be considerably different than what happened here.

 Whether it will turn out to be the trial of the century…we’ll have to wait until 2101 to find that out.  Here’s hoping at least one of us, preferably me, is around to make that judgment.

Hell's Angels

“…which was the stage at Altamont

My humble boys of listless power

We’re pain, we’re steel, a plot of knives

We’re Transmaniacon.”

Blue Oyster Cult, “Transmaniacon MC”

 A few weeks ago I read Hunter S. Thompson’s book on the cycle gangs, which I’d picked up at a Borders clearance sale.  It was an intriguing story (though true).  Nothing which spurred me with any inclination to get on a motorcycle, though.  Here’s the story….

 The Wild One.  This is the 1953 black & white movie with Marlon Brando and Lee Marvin as competing gang leaders terrorizing a small town in California, loosely based on the Hollister incident in 1947.  The movie is fairly sympathetic to the bikers whose “abuse” of the locals seems more like nonchalant fun and good-natured teasing than violent terror, much less rape; the sole female character begs Brando to take her with him, but he declines.  The locals come off as hostile, narrow-minded idiots who expect their sheriff to single-handedly evict 100+ outlaw bikers.  Barger (see below) cites this movie as major inspiration to start up with the Angels in California; he preferred Lee Marvin’s character, Chino (see above).

 Hell’s Angels, by Hunter S. Thompson.  This book was written in 1968 after HST had spent some time with the Angels on various rides and got to know quite a few of them.  His depiction is 80% favorable and certainly sympathetic; any more favorable and it would have been nothing more than a PR deal.  While it doesn’t cover as much time as Barger’s book, it’s considerably more objective.

 Hell’s Angel, by Ralph “Sonny” Barger.  Barger wound up as the de facto spiritual leader of the Angels from the late 60s to the present; he now lives in Arizona.  He was an Army veteran in the early 60s (discharged before the war because he lied about his age), served time in jail and prison on various charges, and survived throat cancer.  His book was written in 2000, so he could cover Altamont and a wider range of Angels history than Thompson’s book does.  Although Thompson was very sympathetic to the Angels in his book, Barger slams Thompson as a coward and a poser. 

 Facts.   As culled from Thompson and Barger, here are the most pertinent facts about the gang.

California.  Although by now the club has spread across the country and has chapters across the world, this expansion has been fairly recent.   The source of the Hell’s Angels is California, and Oakland is essentially their original home base.  There have also been chapters in San Francisco, Sacramento and L.A.  Sometimes the chapters wound up fighting each other.  With its year round sunshine and warm weather, California is well suited, if not uniquely so, to cycling – motorcycles are dangerous in the rain and useless in the snow.

            There seems to have been a tendency for police and uptight squares to label all cycle gangs “Hell’s Angels”, but the reality is less tidy.  The club has definite membership requirements and chapters. There are plenty of other cycle gangs which are NOT the Angels – though they may act like them and wish they were them.  Oftentimes crimes or outrages committed by other gangs, many well outside California, were simply blamed on “the Angels” as if they were all-inclusive across the country.    The top rivals to the Angels are the Pagans (East Coast), Outlaws, and Bandidos (“the Big 4”).  Members of the other three are NOT welcome or eligible for membership in the Angels.   By the numbers, outlaw gang members comprise a tiny minority of registered motorcycle owners in the country, leading to the famous “one percenter” label the outlaws proudly use to refer to themselves. 

 Gang.  The police, and particular the Feds, consider Hell’s Angels a criminal organization, like any gang (Mafia, Crips, Bloods, MS-13, etc.).  They even went after the Angels under RICO, a Federal law targeting organized crime.  But the primary form of criminal activity the Angels engaged in was illegal drugs – buying and selling marijuana, heroin, LSD – but this was incidental, as widespread as it may have been.  These were not drug dealers who happened to ride motorcycles.  At worst, the Angels were simply a club of Harley enthusiasts with colorful backgrounds and criminal records, a fierce passion for drugs, sex, and fighting, but above all, riding.

 Harleys.  As a practical matter, you have to ride a Harley-Davidson to be an Angel.  They seem to acknowledge that Harley has no monopoly on good cycles, but out of sheer loyalty they stick with HD exclusively.  The company itself hasn’t always been completely cool about the Angels’ endorsement, nor have all the Harley dealers.  The Angels were among the first to customize their bikes, and HD itself has often incorporated their modifications into its own designs.  The Angels pride themselves on being good bike mechanics and keeping their bikes running well, smoothly, and aggressively. 

 Nazis.  As Barger puts it, none of the Angels are Nazis.  The swastikas, iron crosses, German helmets, etc. are all for shock value.  Having said that, the club is almost exclusively white – however, they have been on modestly friendly terms with black cycle gangs in Oakland. 

            Women are not allowed in the club as members, but they are certainly welcome to hang out.  “Mommas” are women who are somewhat unselective and nonexclusive in the range of their companionship with the Angels.

 Colors.  Only the Angel who earned the patch can wear the colors on the back of his jacket.  Getting your colors taken away from you by someone – usually from members of competing gangs – is among the worst disgraces an Angel can suffer, and cause for dismissal.  Likewise, the Angels look extremely unfavorably on any non-members wearing the colors and will seek out and punish offenders, a form of extrajudicial copyright enforcement.

 Vietnam.  Much to the horror and dismay of the Berkeley leftists who thought of the Angels as fellow travelers – being social outcasts who rejected mainstream American values – the Angels remained fiercely patriotic and vehemently opposed the anti-war movement. 

 Altamont.  Part of the chaos can be seen in the movie “Gimme Shelter”.  The Rolling Stones hired the Angels to provide security at the outdoor festival at the raceway in California in December 1969.  The Grateful Dead declined to play due to the violence, Marty Balin got his butt kicked by the Angels, and a fan – Meredith Hunter – was killed.  It didn’t help that people were knocking over the Angels’ bikes and trying to prove how tough they were by provoking the gang members.  Barger puts the blame on Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones for being arrogant, clueless, and causing trouble to stoke their own notoriety.