Twisted & Biblical

 

For Christmas I received several books – which were on my Amazon wishlist.   Two of these I’ve finished:  Twisted Business and Biblical.

Twisted Business:  Lessons From My Live In Rock’n’Roll, by Jay Jay French and Steve Farber.  JJF was the rhythm guitarist for heavy metal band Twisted Sister.   He actually formed it in the early 1970s (March 20, 1973 was their first show), but due to a tragically comic array of circumstances, the band didn’t get its first record,  Under The Blade, out until September 1, 1982.  Then its heyday of albums, tours, and notoriety lasted until its fifth album, Love Is For Suckers, released August 13, 1987.and their last show before breaking up, October 10, 1987, at the Orpheum Theater in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Stay Hungry is by far their most popular album, the one which catapulted them to fame, and contains their best known hits, “I Want A Rock” and “We’re Not Gonna Take It”.   We managed to see them in Paris (4/28/86 at the Casino, the only show we saw at that fairly modest venue), and in Washington, DC at the Warner Theater (9/30/87).  A series of massive miscalculations (more clearly articulated in the book) explain how the band crashed and burned at that time.   JJF had to declare bankruptcy and find some other work to do – which eventually resulted in him producing and managing Sevendust. 

Dee Snider.  From Long Island, New York.  As not only the singer, but also extremely outspoken, Snider served as the de facto “mouth” of the band for much of their peak period, though he was not the original singer; he joined sometime in 1976.  According to JJF, the band members didn’t get along with each other very well, but years after the breakup, somehow managed to patch things up between them.  French himself made certain at an early point in the band’s career to secure the sole rights to the band name.

Drugs.  JJF is quite open about his initial history as not merely a drug user, but dealer.  This contrasts with Twisted Sister, an in-your-face heavy metal band not known for drugs or psychedelia, specifically because JJF abruptly went cold turkey AND insisted on a no drugs or alcohol policy in the band, as his own experiences with drugs, and the impact they had on bands, told him to avoid that.  And of course the band’s demise had nothing to do with drugs.

That being the case, he does have a remarkable array of war stories to tell about his experiences, especially with LSD.  These were interesting in and of themselves.  He found the Grateful Dead to be intolerable as a live band once he quit doing drugs, which is not hard to imagine.  Albums like American Beauty, with short and simple songs, are easy enough to enjoy sober, but a 3+ hour Dead show with extended jams pushes into territory where some form of herbal or chemical enhancement may be necessary to endure, much less enjoy and appreciate. 

Business.  At some point JJF realized that for the band to succeed, someone needed to exercise some form of control and common sense about money.  Although bands have managers for this reason, if all the band members (cough cough, Black Sabbath) are clueless about money, it’s too easy for the manager to either ruin everything or steal their money.  So teaching himself business and taking an active role in managing the band fell into his lap by default and necessity, and he discovered a natural aptitude for it.  In fact, he recognized it as a skill set which applies outside the rock business, and which he reduced to several principles conveniently in the form of T W I S T E D.

Tenacity.   Don’t give up simply because things get tough.

Wisdom.    Don’t be stupid.

Inspiration.  Use your imagination.

Stability.   Keep your act together.

Trust.  You have to be able to trust your business associates (band members).  And above all, you have to earn and keep their trust – it’s a two-way street, which many people don’t seem to realize.

Excellence.   You have to know what you’re doing.  Hone the basic skills which are the substance of your business.  For musicians, this usually means practicing your instrument constantly.

Discipline.  This means keeping yourself and your comrades behaving properly and keeping your eyes on the prize. 

As you can see, these are more philosophical principles than business ideals.  However, they’re pertinent and sensible, a good set for anyone to follow in their daily lives. 

Overall very intriguing, but the gist of it is 25% war stories and behind the scenes backstory on what was going on with Twisted Sister (and why they crashed and burned), and 75% articulation of these principles which he learned the hard way and considers valuable and applicable to people in their daily lives.  Since I only had a vague knowledge about the band outside its peak era, the history part was illuminating in its own right and very much a fun read (especially the acid stories).  Actually I found the music element to be far more interesting than the business element.

***

Biblical: Heavy Metal Scriptures, by Rob Halford.  Halford, of course, is the singer for Judas Priest, one of the more popular and famous heavy metal bands, originally from Birmingham, England (though drummer Scott Travis is from Norfolk, Virginia).  His prior book, Confess, was his autobiography, with lots and lots of details about his homosexuality.  Technically he only “came out” after leaving Judas Priest in 1992, but for many fans he was already “out”, and his official acknowledgement was more confirming what everyone – with any discernable “gaydar” – already knew.  Remaining officially in the closet, however, he had to remain discreet about his lifestyle, so all the tricks of remaining in the closet and “cruising” (this business where repressed homosexuals give each other subtle clues to alert that they’re up for slap and tickle) were likewise articulated at length in Confess.   All that was TMI for me.

Having gotten all that out in the open, now his goal is to wax poetic about literally every aspect of heavy metal:  album covers, songs, setlists, managers, producers, tours, tour buses, groupies, merchandise, etc.  It’s set up in a quasi-biblical fashion but 100% down to earth and non-spiritual.  70% of this is common knowledge which any Judas Priest fan who has been to a few shows is very much aware of; to the extent he had any deep secrets to reveal, they were in Confess.   In fact, so much of this is straightforward, it’s almost like he’s writing this for a 14 year old kid just learning about Judas Priest and music.  For my part, I found the circumstances behind each album’s creation and studio time were the areas of most interest because they were least obvious or well known.   So despite this business of telling me what I already knew, the reading experience was worthwhile all the same, and most likely of value to any Judas Priest fan of any age and experience. 

Oh, one element which is fairly substantial, and which I did not know, is that Rob Halford hates Spotify with a fierce passion.   As we may know, Spotify pays the artists a tiny percentage of a cent - not even a full cent - each time a song is played.   The result is that the artist can effectively discount Spotify as a direct source of income.  Moreover, many fans seem to use streaming sources as their exclusive means of listening to music, forgoing even downloads.  To that extent, Spotify is severely restricting the ability of musicians to make music.   Halford acknowledges that Judas Priest fans are more likely to use Spotify in addition to, not instead of, traditional formats such as vinyl and CD, but newer bands might not have the same fortune.  I'm one of those old school dinosaurs who still buys CDs; I only use Spotify to listen when I'm in a car without a CD player or on the cardio machine at the gym.  I can say I "feel your pain"/"see your point" without fully agreeing with him, as I do use Spotify myself AND still buy the music, AND see the band in concert.  If I listen to a band on Spotify I'm not familiar with already and like it, I'll tend to buy the CD and see the show.  

2001 2010 2061 3001 A Space Odyssey

 

Arthur C. Clarke has several science fiction novels, of which 2001: A Space Odyssey – and the film based on it – are probably the most famous.   What many don’t realize is that there are actually three sequels – 2010, 2061, and 3001 – of which only 2010 was made into a movie.  However, unlike 2001, which makes no sense without having read the book, 2010 actually makes sense on its own.  To my knowledge, neither 2061 nor 3001 were made into movies.   I had done three separate blogs in the past, here I’ll simply combine all three into one.

First, 2001.

 Here’s an interesting fact: the novel was written simultaneously with the production of the movie by Stanley Kubrick.  The movie premiered on April 2, 1968, whereas the book was released in June 1968 (hardback) and July 1968 (paperback).  Anyone attending the premiere would have had no access to the book.  Audiences’ reactions were mixed: Rock Hudson was quoted as complaining, “can someone tell me what this is all about?”, whereas the Doors, forced to see the film from the front row (the only seats left) were knocked out and impressed; Morrison stood up and said, “Well, that’s the best movie I’ve ever seen, we can go now.”  For my part, I shared Hudson’s impression.

 Unfortunately for most of us (including me), the movie surgically extracts the plot and leaves us with barking monkeys, man vs. homicidal computer, and an extravagant light show.  The novel, as you might expect, fills in the gaps and tells us what is really going on, particularly useful and necessary towards the end.

 Let’s start with the movie, sans novel.

Part I.  Apes jump around mysterious monolith, grab bones, and start kicking ass.

Part II.  Humans find monolith on the moon.  “Gee, that’s peculiar” (in Eddie Murphy mocking white people voice).

Part III.  Astronauts go off to Jupiter on a big ship.  The computer, HAL 9000, suddenly goes apes**t and kills off all but one of the astronauts.  The surviving astronaut, Bowman, succeeds at neutralizing the computer and continuing the mission.

Part IV.  Bowman makes it to Jupiter and enters the master monolith, which was just floating out in space.  After an extended, very trippy light show, he winds up inside a fancy hotel room, grows old, and becomes a fetus (mother unknown).

After witnessing this for two hours, most of us (even those partaking of chemicals or herbs to enhance the movie-watching experience) have the same reaction: W T F?

 Here’s the explanation the novel provides but Kubrick did not.

Part I.  Apes can’t do much except hoot and holler, even at each other.  The leopard is at the top of the food chain.  The monolith comes from nowhere (this is 3 million years ago) and scans, probes, and analyzes the apes.  Finally it puts the suggestion in the alpha male (Moon-watcher) head of “try making a tool out of something”.  Moon-watcher crafts a crude club, teaches the others to do the same (and sharpen stones, etc.) and pretty soon they’ve got the idea.  Now they can not only assert dominance over the competing tribe of apes, but also take down the much-feared leopard and jump to the top of the food chain.  This sets the apes on the road to humanity – to become us.  (“And there was much rejoicing.”)

 Part II.  Humans find the monolith on the moon.  It is clearly NOT natural and was deliberately buried on the moon, though with an unmistakable magnetic signature someone was sure to recognize and start digging.  Whoever left it there, left it there to be discovered.  Sure enough, when uncovered and exposed to sunlight, it immediately sends a transmission in the direction of Saturn (movie: Jupiter).  The monolith is 3 millions years old, so it’s clearly alien.  And the aliens are probably not from Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, or anywhere else in the solar system.  Whatever is on Saturn is most likely itself a relay to the stars. 

 Part III.  5 astronauts are on Discovery, two remaining awake and the other three in suspended animation.  Another ship, Discovery II, is being built, but will not be ready for several years.  The plan is that once this crew reaches Saturn, they will go into stasis (cared for by HAL) and the next ship will wake them up when they get there.  That’s the plan, at least.

            HAL 9000 abruptly decides – on its own – that for some reason, the astronauts are inimical to his plan and must be wiped out.  It sets Bowman off on a wild goose chase to fix an antenna that isn’t broken.  It shuts down life support on the sleeping astronauts, killing them.  It also killed Poole, the other conscious astronaut.  Bowman, exercising extreme discretion and care, manages to deactivate HAL.  However, since he knows the next ship won’t be there for years, and he would need HAL to remain in stasis, deactivating HAL means the trip to Saturn will probably result in his death.  Nevertheless, he decides to complete his mission and see what happens.

            He does reach Japetus, the moon of Saturn on which the master monolith exists, and manages to “enter” it.  Light show?  Yes.   Hotel?  Yes.  However, this proves to be a gate to another dimension, and Bowman…well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise.  But suffice to say that Clarke actually DOES explain what happens to Bowman, and it differs considerably from the movie ending. 

 Normally book & movie complement each other so that reading the book is not necessary to understand the movie.  Not so here.  My recommendation would be to read the novel, then watch the movie again (no matter how many times you may have seen it before) and enjoy it now that you can FINALLY understand what is really going on.  Voila!  

 2010: Odyssey Two.  Here, Haywood (Roy Scheider) returns to Jupiter (note:  the movie version of 2001 changed Jupiter into Saturn) on a Russian spacecraft, the Leonov, with a Russian crew, except for another American (John Lithgow), and an Indian, Chandra (Bob Balaban – “cleavage!”).   HAL – the supposedly murderous computer of the prior ship, Discovery – is reactivated and this time around he’s OK, mainly because Chandra essentially becomes his best friend, a partnership the prior astronauts lacked.  Speaking of prior astronauts, Dave Bowman, the sole survivor (?) of the prior mission, is actually still around, but in a much different format.   Much strange stuff happens, with a spectacular finish, but neither Clarke nor the film ever take us away from sanity or coherence.   While I’d recommend reading the book in addition to, and not instead of, seeing the film, as Clarke’s writing is enjoyable in its own right, unlike 2001 you don’t have to have read the book to understand this movie.

 2061.  Obviously takes place 50 years after 2010.  Two separate plotlines converge: a celebrity mission onboard the spaceship Universe lands on Halley’s Comet – with Heywood Floyd aboard – and a spaceship Galaxy crashlands on Europa, a former moon of Jupiter, now a planet of Lucifer, the Jupiter-turned-into-a-star.   There’s a spectacular theory about a diamond-shaped object on Europa.  Dave Bowman returns – in spirit.  Lots of fun stuff going on and very much worthwhile reading, especially if you enjoyed the prior two stories.  It was NOT made into a movie.

 3001. Finishing up.   Recall on the Discovery, the original spaceship in 2001, two astronauts were awake when HAL went apes**t and killed the sleeping ones.  Poole was lost into space, while Bowman ventured to the monolith and said “It’s full of stars”.  As noted earlier, Bowman has some pretty weird experiences in the subsequent books and is indeed back again here.  But remarkably, Poole did NOT die.  In fact, he was recovered and revived, although in 3001 – and brought back to Earth.   Everyone he knew is dead, and he has to adjust to a life which is much different.  Due to his intimate familiarity not only with the Discovery mission but also life in the twentieth century, he’s actually sought out as a celebrity and valuable source of knowledge.  Even so, he’s not really happy on future Earth.  

 Finally – out of frustration and boredom – he goes to Ganymede and decides to disobey the aliens and land on Europa.  He has a hunch – correct, as it is – that “Dave Bowman” will protect him.   Unfortunately, there’s some big bad news about the aliens who made those monoliths and turned Jupiter (gas giant planet) into Lucifer (mini-sun).   How do they resolve it?  Stay tuned.

The Problem With Weed

 

My brother and I attended the Iron Maiden concert at Capital One Arena last Sunday night in Washington, DC.  The prior show had singer Bruce Dickinson chastise the fans up front for heavy cannabis (flower) consumption, which upset not only Bruce Bruce himself, but also bassist Steve Harris, who hates marijuana (Robin Leach voice: I don’t know WHYYYY”).  Sure enough, there were stoners at the DC show, blazing up, and sure enough they got a similar lecture from the Singer.  To quote Alex Lifeson, “blah blah blah.”

For some reason, not everyone consuming cannabis at this show felt it appropriate to consume in the form of edibles – which these days usually means gummies.  Nope, vape pens and joints, with lots of smoke, was their preferred way of not only enjoying their bud, but also ensuring that everyone else around them had to put up with it as well, whether they liked it or not.

Dickinson himself urged the stoners to “smoke out back” – outside the venue, presumably in a back alley somewhere.  This strikes me not as a concession but more of a demand.  Had he been inclined to meet the stoners halfway, he might have recommended they use edibles.  But from what I’ve heard from him, earlier and more recently on this tour, Dickinson seems to share the common bemused contempt for stoners that the non-stoners often have, looking down on all MJ users collectively as the functional equivalent of opium addicts.

For my part, I was in that category for a long time.  The stoners I met in college were mostly jerks and assholes, cutting classes to get stoned, or going to class stoned.  With no personal familiarity with the drug itself, what I could perceive was a form of recreational stupidity.  Eventually I found a few stoners who would smoke on the weekend and go back to studying on Sunday night and attending class like everyone else – a minority who could be bothered to exert any restraint on their consumption and integrate it into a productive college education, the same way I was integrating my beer consumption.  So it inevitably dawned on me that that the problem wasn’t weed itself, it was the yahoos smoking weed.  The irony is that, just as it’s too easy for the stoners to simply blaze up every night of the week and avoid doing anything productive, it’s just as easy for nonstoners to fall into the trap of believing all stoners do this, and writing off cannabis itself as the modern equivalent of opium.   

Another irony is that marijuana itself is harmless.  Death toll?  ZERO.  That includes any form of lung cancer, which takes its toll on tobacco smokers every year – although Bill Hicks will remind us that “non smokers are dying…every day.”  Its major benefit is amplifying the awesomeness of any music you’re listening to, which is even better at a concert.  Yeah, we get it:  music and weed go together.  Oh, and it’s a major appetite enhancer, with even the worst, greasiest food elevated in enjoyment to any gourmet food you might imagine.  Whatever you might enjoy, you’ll enjoy it more stoned.  Finally, relevant to the concert context, unlike alcohol, which turns mean jerks into mean, violent jerks who ruin it for everyone else, weed makes people mellow and laid back, less inclined to pick a fight than they otherwise would.  So weed itself is good, m’kay?

So what’s the problem with weed?  Again, the problem is not the drug itself, it’s the stoners.  Evidently, too many stoners, especially the less intelligent ones, seem to have it on firm conviction that getting stoned is SO COOL, that you can be a total dick or asshole and hey!  It’s all cool!  We’re stoned!   Blow smoke up everyone else’s ass?  Yeah, that’s totally cool!   Treat people like shit because they don’t smoke weed?  Also 1000% absolutely positively cool! 

Here's a news flash:  if you were a douchebag before you lit that joint, or packed that bowl and blazed with the bong, you are STILL a douchebag:  now you’re just a douchebag who’s stoned.  The weed hasn’t made you cool, or not a douchebag.  But it has made you somehow believe you aren’t, and that whatever you do is cool. 

Granted, the straight edgers can be assholes too.  “Straight edge” means people who, as a lifestyle choice, don’t smoke weed, don’t drink, don’t do any drugs at all.  But a straight edge asshole is still an asshole.  So no real difference there.  I’ll also argue yet again that alcohol is more apt to cause actual violence.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen stoners actually fight. 

I’ll give my Marijuana Etiquette Rules here, though chances are most of the problem stoners will ignore it and go right on being the major league stoned assholes they are:

1.         Don’t give anyone shit for not smoking weed – even if you honestly believe they would enjoy it.  It’s their choice, so just f**k off.

2.         If you’re at home or a friend’s place among stoners, by all means blaze up on the flower.  Hot box if you want.  But in public, it might be a better idea to take edibles.   You’ve heard of them, right?

3.         Don’t be a dick when you’re stoned.   Less likely to happen than with alcohol, but don’t assume you aren’t being a jerk simply because you’re stoned.

4.         Lots of people do weed.  It’s not just Mexicans or jazz musicians anymore, and hasn’t been for decades.  The fact that you do weed doesn’t make you special, let alone cool.  Somewhat like tattoos:  by now they’re so common among Americans (if not Japanese) that having a tattoo, or multiple tattoos, is no longer special.

5.         Strictly speaking, cannabis consumers are not “brand ambassadors” and have no affirmative duty to behave appropriately among nonstoners solely for the purpose of not discrediting cannabis itself to would-be consumers.  Having said that, as a practical matter, they are.  And as much as concern over legality and health issues, poor behavior by clueless stoners acts as an effective deterrent dissuading otherwise sympathetic nonstoners from either trying it – a harmless act with more positive potential than danger – or giving them a negative impression of stoners themselves, which works to defame other stoners.  In other words, being a dick about it ruins it for everyone else – so don’t be a dick. 

Just to be clear: MJ consumption itself is not the issue, it’s doing so in a way which inconveniences others.  No free pass simply because you’re stoned.

We now return to Master of Reality, track 1.

Back in the Formula

 

In summer 1992, I was working at the law library at George Mason School of Law, after my second of three years, putting books on the shelf for $5.50/hr.   I was driving a fairly new 1991 Toyota Tercel, not a bad car aside from being short four cylinders.   At some point during the year I had acquired the 1992 Pontiac catalog, which included the Firebird.  I fell in love with the Formula: its hood, spoiler, wheels, and clean lines without ground effects.  Moreover, it was available with the most powerful engine offered, the 240 HP 5.7L V8.  A small blurb on the bottom right of the page promised, “another 50 HP is available at the parts counter: ask about the SLP Package”.   But good luck getting any such car on $5.50 an hour.

By October my situation had changed:  I was now earning $10/hour, working twice as many hours per week, for a real attorney on real cases.  I could now afford a new Firebird, although not a Formula.  By that time, a year after the 1992s had gone on sale, the Formulas with the 5.7L V8 were long gone.  I bought a base Firebird, black on black with T-tops, loaded with options, and the 5.0L V8, 170 HP.  Not nearly as fast, but with more than enough torque to get out of its own way and let me know there was a V8 under the hood.  For the first time since my father was a priest in the 1950s, our household had a car with a V8. 

Fast forward to June 1995, I was now licensed in Virginia and Maryland, and making enough to buy a used 1992 Firebird Formula, dark aqua metallic, black interior, and with the 5.7L V8 with that SLP Package.  That package included a performance PROM (ECM chip), cool air intake, larger throttle body, siamesed intake runners, headers, 3” exhaust from the dual cats, and a performance muffler.  In 1998 I had it painted black, and also beefed up the suspension, modifying the four speed 700R4 transmission with a shift kit and a 2800 stall converter, and upgraded the rear gears in the positraction rear axle from 3.23 to 3.73 gear ratio.

This was my daily driver from 1995 to 2012.  That year, when I was working at the office, it caught an engine fire and ended being history.  The engine was removed and wound up in a machine shop in Fairfax (now in Midland), while the car eventually wound up in salvage in California.  My daily driver became a new Honda Civic (black on black), then a 2009 Dodge Charger R/T (also black on black), and finally my mom’s Chevrolet HHR, yet again with a 4 cylinder engine.

This July I finally managed to buy another Firebird Formula “350” (5.7L V8), 1991 model year, black with a grey interior.  Sadly, it’s fairly stock, but it does have power windows.  It took me ten years to find one.  By now, these cars are thin on the ground.  The newest are 30 years old, and a 1982 Firebird is 40 years old.  Many have been “Uncle Cletus’d” – horrible modifications and butchered in various ways – or simply rusted out and totaled, whereas the mint condition, low mileage survivors have owners asking $15 - $40 thousand depending on the model.  Somehow I managed to find one in the sweet spot: decent shape, running, with no major problems, though far from mint.  Sadly, it’s not nearly as modified or fast as my 1992 was, but it’s good enough to satisfy me.  If and when money comes in, I’ll pay off the machine shop and have the prior engine installed. 

Now I’m a bit older and look back on these cars differently as of 2022.

Firebird Formula.  In 1970 the F-Body (Chevrolet Camaro and Pontiac Firebird) was redesigned, a body style which lasted until 1981 and included the famous Smokey & the Bandit (S/E) Trans Am of 1977.  With the body change came model changes.

1970-81 Firebird models:  base, Esprit, Formula, and Trans Am.  Base was entry level, either a six cylinder or low power V8 engine; Esprit was semi-luxury, with a V8; the Formula was the budget performance car, with forward facing hood scoops but the engine, transmission and suspension of the Trans Am.  Finally, the Trans Am was the top model:  shaker hood, spoiler, top engines and suspension, and – from 1973 onward – the ever-popular hood bird, aka the “Screaming Chicken”.  Burt Reynolds’ “Smokey and the Bandit” Trans Am was a 1977 Special Edition. 

In 1982 they dropped the Formula model and replaced it with a quasi-Esprit type model, the S/E.  In 1987 they brought the Formula back in place of the S/E.  The Formula got the bulge hood from the earlier Trans Am, the wing spoiler from the Trans Am, its own pattern Deep Dish 16x8” wheels, and NO ground effects, which had then afflicted the Trans Am.  If there’s one style feature of performance cars I can’t stand, it’s ground effects.  To me they make the car look fat.  The slim lines of the 87-92 Formula – or, for that matter, the 1982 Trans Am before they ruined it with ground effects – are the #1 feature. 

 By that time, Pontiac V8s were long gone, replaced with Chevrolet 305 cubic inch, or 5.0L V8s, either with an electronically controlled Quadrajet, throttle body injection, or the performance electronic fuel injection system, Tuned Port Injection (TPI).  A few Formulas received the Trans Am/ Z/28 / Corvette 5.7L V8, also with TPI.  From 1987-90 the door decals said “FORMULA 350”; for 91-92 the hood bulge had a decal, “5.7 LITER F.I.”.   More than just 45 more cubic inches, the 350 was the best small block Chevy V8.  350 powered cars were much faster than the 305 ones. 

Now these cars are very rare.  Days and weeks go by without seeing any Firebirds, of any year (1967 through 2002) on the street.  For that matter, the much more numerous Camaro is also fairly rare as well.  This car is now 30 years old, and has 120,000 miles.  For a daily driven car, I can expect to put 10,000 miles on it per year. 

Second, aesthetics.  I realize this is extremely subjective.  But when Pontiac redesigned the Firebird for its third generation in 1982, they hit it out of the ballpark.  Although it shared the same body as the Camaro, the Firebird’s front and rear were better looking, to the point where the Knight Rider TV show saw fit to use a 1982 Trans Am as the basis for KITT.    Too many cars, especially economy cars, SUVs, and crossovers, all pretty much look the same.  They’re not built to look pretty, they’re built to get you from point A to point B reliably. 

Third, performance.  Somehow I doubt the engine is putting out its stock number, and even if it was, 240 horsepower isn’t much these days.  It was respectable in 1992.  The handling is still great:  I can take curves much quicker than prior cars, even better than my ’09 Charger R/T.  Seating is somewhat reclined: my mom used to complain that the passenger seat in my 92 Formula was too much like sitting in a dentist chair.  For me, with the four wide wheels, low ground clearance, and WS6 Performance Suspension, it’s a car that handles well whatever engine is under the hood.

Type A, B and C.  To me, things in life are either pleasurable (type A), neutral (B), or painful/unpleasant (type C).  Type A includes sex (obviously), great music, great TV shows or movies, and delicious foods.  Type B includes most bodily functions, most job work, and simply going from point A to point B.  Type C includes pain, taxes, boredom, rape, torture, etc.  If you can reduce pain or unpleasantness and bump something from C to B, so much the better; the same with making something which might otherwise be neutral (B) to pleasurable (A).  A few months ago, I replaced my old comforter on my bed with an UGG variant.  WOW, amazing!  So sleeping went from merely neutral (B) to actually pleasurable (A).

When I was driving the HHR, simply driving from point A to point B was merely neutral.  However, it certainly beat having no car at all.  But in the Formula, now it’s no longer B, it’s A.  A car that moves immediately, and takes corners like a knife, now is actually FUN to drive – and we’re talking just driving through a parking lot or down the road, except maybe being stuck in traffic, which is C territory no matter what car you’re driving.  So right there I’ve improved my quality of life.

The flip side is reliability.  My main concerns are starting and cooling.  Fortunately the car seems to start up cold and warm (far easier warm than cold), and hasn’t overheated – even on superhot days in August, stuck in traffic.  The A/C doesn’t work, but fortunately the compressor and equipment appear intact, so hopefully it will just need a recharge – albeit with R134a (a conversion I had done with my 1992 model).  I missed having the row of gauges on the dash, and fortunately these read what they should: oil pressure normal, coolant temperature where it should be, alternator voltage normal.  The fuel economy is far less than what it should be, about 7 mpg less than what I was getting from the 92 Formula, which not only had the same type of engine and transmission, but was substantially modified.  Moreover, it has a rough idle.  Usually, in a performance car that would be a good thing, due to a hot camshaft, but with the poor fuel economy and no corresponding huge power gain higher in the RPM band, the most likely cause is a vacuum leak.  With the rough idle and aftermarket exhaust, it certainly sounds like a performance car.

As noted, the engine from the 1992 is still around, albeit in a machine shop, rebuilt, balanced and blueprinted with aluminum cylinder heads and performance camshaft.  If and when the money comes in, I’ll have it installed in the 91 Formula.  One more thing to look forward to in the future….

Earth and Earthless

My writer’s block has been cured by a pair of concerts at local clubs by a pair of bands with similar names.

Earthless, Wednesday, September 7, 2022 at the Ottobar in Baltimore, Maryland.  The Ottobar is a small club, capacity 400, up on Howard Street, in a somewhat rundown neighborhood of mostly body shops and auto repair shops – in fact, very similar to the Knockdown Center in Queens, NYC where I saw the DesertFest in May of this year.  The flip side is that it’s easy to get to (just drive up Martin Luther King Blvd. until it merges with Howard Street) and street parking is plentiful.  Moreover, the venue has a decent amount of seating, perfect for my 50+ year old back. 

Earthless themselves are mainly Isiah Mitchell (guitarist), Mike Eginton (bass), and Mario Rubalcaba (drums), from San Diego, California, USA (yes, on Earth).   Their albums are Sonic Prayer (2005), Rhythms from a Cosmic Sky (2007), From the Ages (2013), Black Heaven (2018), and Night Parade of One Hundred Demons (2022).  The material is 90% instrumentals, with the song structure essentially being nonstop 100 mph guitar solos.  This is not music with a general commercial appeal.  I find it from tolerable to enjoyable depending on my mood.  I enjoyed the show; the opening act was Black Lung (not to be confused with British band Green Lung), who are actually from Baltimore.  I can say I’m glad I went.  I had seen Earthless before, at the Rock’n’Roll Hotel in DC in March 2018, plus a few online streaming shows during COVID.  As with any band, check them out Spotify to get some idea of what to expect.  In any case the way the music is set up, every studio album may as well be a live album. 

Earth, Friday September 23, 2022 at the Black Cat in Washington, DC.  Before I go further, I’ll clarify this is an American band from Olympia, Washington, formed in 1989 (hereinafter “Earth 3”). 

There was a British band called Earth in the late ‘60s – or rather, two such bands.  What I’ll call “Earth 2” was a band from Birmingham, England – Ozzy Osbourne, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler, and Bill Ward.  They had to change their name to Black Sabbath due to another band called Earth (hereinafter “Earth 1”).  While Earth 2 released 9 albums with Ozzy Osbourne, 4 with Ronnie James Dio (5 if you count The Devil You Know), 5 with Tony Martin, and one each with Ian Gillan and Glenn Hughes, the original band which caused them to change their name only managed to release two singles, “Everybody Sing The Song”/Stranger of Fortune” in April 1969, and “Resurrection City”/”Comical Man” in December 1969, i.e. a total of four songs and no albums.  Guitarist Glenn Campbell (not the American musician often associated with the Beach Boys) disbanded Earth and founded Juicy Lucy, which put out five albums from 1969 to 1972, and four more from 1995-2006.  At an early stage they had Micky Moody, better known as guitarist with Bernie Marsden in the earlier, blues-oriented incarnation of Whitesnake.  I listened to the first Juicy Lucy album, and it sounded pretty much like all other blues-based bands of that era.

ANYHOW.

Earth 3 is mainly Dylan Carlson (guitar) and Adrienne Davies (drums).  Carlson actually took the name from the E1/E2 Earth bands, neither of which were still active in 1989 when he founded his own band.  I saw him play as a solo artist opening for Sleep at the new 930 Club in DC in 2018, then with Earth at the Ottobar in 2019 – so I can say I saw both Earth and Earthless at the Ottobar, albeit on different dates. 

By now they have 9 albums:  Earth 2: Special Low-Frequency Version (1993); Phase 3: Thrones and Dominions (1995); Pentastar: In the Style of Demons (1996), Hex: Or Printing in the Infernal Method (2005); The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull (2008); Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I (2011); Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II (2012); Primitive and Deadly (2014); and Full upon Her Burning Lips (2019). 

Whereas Earthless are nonstop guitar solos, Earth do the opposite:  each song picks a specific musical phrase, and repeats it over and over again without lyrics, although often with some interlude/solo in between to break up what would otherwise be the same riff simply repeated over and over again.  Like Earthless it’s a fairly raw and primitive version of hard rock music with negligible commercial appeal.  Supposedly the band was co-headliner with Iceage (more of a pop band and NOT a stoner rock band) but Earth’s set was only an hour, somewhat more than an opening act and 30 minutes short of a full set of a headliner.  However, the songs are much shorter than Earthless’ – which average out at 20-40 minutes each.   Live, they had another redneck looking guy playing guitar and bass pedals in his socks, which amplified the sound somewhat. 

Strangely, Carlson knew Kurt Cobain quite well – maybe too well.  But that is another story….

American V8 Engines

 

I’ve commented on the Pontiac 400 cubic inch V8, and the Chevrolet 305 V8.  Now I want to ease back and give you bigger picture.

Pull the cord on a gas-powered lawn mower, and you’ve got a single cylinder gas engine spinning a blade around to cut your lawn.  Look under the hood of a Citroen Deux Chevaux (DCV) and you’ll see a flat two cylinder engine.  Most economy cars have 4 cylinder engines, mostly inline, with Saab, VW and Porsche making flat 4s, and V4s exclusively in motorcycles.  Their upscale brethren can usually be found with six cylinder engines:  straight six (favored by BMW), V6s (most of the others), and flat sixes (Subaru and Porsche).  But the most epic of these is the V8.  Eight cylinders, two banks of four, generally 90 degrees apart.  The V8 replaced the straight (inline) 8, which lasted until the mid 1950s.

Despite the advent of modern electric motors, gasoline V8s are still around and will be for some time.  Even if electric cars completely replace ICE (internal combustion engines) on showroom floors, that does nothing about the millions of existing gas powered vehicles which won’t be magically transformed into electric cars overnight – if ever.  That being the case, they are still relevant, and thus V8s are still relevant as well.

Straight Eights.  While the V configuration (two banks of 4 cylinders at a 90 degree angle) is most common – and I haven’t seen a flat (horizontally opposed) 8 (Porsche used one in racing cars, but no production cars) – inline 8 cylinder engines were popular in the 1930s, 40s, and into the 50s before being phased out in favor of V8s.  Most American companies made straight eights, though Cadillac stuck with V8s, V12s and even V16s.  Buick’s straight eight was distinctive for using a more modern overhead valve format, while the rest of the straight eights used flathead (L head) engines. 

Flathead vs. overhead valve vs. overhead cam.   Flathead engines have the valves (intake and exhaust) in the block itself, leaving the cylinder head little more than a cover through which the spark plugs poke into the combustion chamber.  OHV and OHC engines have the valves in the cylinder heads.  OHV engines locate the camshaft, which opens and closes the valves, in the block, linked to the valves by lifters, pushrods, and rocker arms.  OHC engines put the camshaft(s) in the cylinder head itself, directly opening and closing the valves.  Although the OHC system is marginally superior, Chevrolet still uses the OHV format for its current LS engines. 

Ford Flathead (1932).  While Chevrolet had an ill-fated V8 in 1916, the first popular V8 was the Ford Flathead, debuting in 1932.  Instead of being a luxury car engine, this was mass-produced, so most Americans could drive a car with this V8.  Not only were the cars themselves popular, but the V8 started the trend of hot-rodding, birthing the performance aftermarket.  The main two displacements were 221 (3.6L) and 239 (3.9L), maxing out at 85 HP.  Although Cadillac (1948) and Oldsmobile (1949) came out with their overhead valve (OHV) (modern style) V8s earlier, it was the Small Block Chevy V8 (1955) which toppled the Ford Flathead from the throne.  Ford phased out the flathead in 1953, replacing it with its Y block (OHV) series in 1954.

Small Block Chevy 1955.  Introduced in 1955 in 265 cubic inches, later growing to 283 (1958), 327 (1962), 350 (1967), and 400 (1970), with the 305 (5.0L) coming into the picture in 1976 as a fuel-economy variant.  The 400 was never very popular, leaving the 350 (5.7L) as the optimal size for performance.  The SBC went into Novas, Camaros (in which the 350 debuted), Chevelles, Corvettes, Bel Airs, station wagons, vans, and pickup trucks – plus marine versions as well.  By 1998 the LS engines took over and are now the favored hot rod engines.  But while the SBC is no longer under the hood of anything you can go into a GM dealer and buy today, it’s still available as a crate engine from GM (as is the LS).

Innovations of the SBC:  very light – even lighter than the stovebolt (Chevrolet) straight six; well breathing cylinder heads with stud-mounted rocker arms (though it was Pontiac which invented this innovation); and a one piece intake manifold which also covered the lifter valley (contrast with Pontiac’s two piece manifold).   Mass produced with excellent power for its weight, the small block Chevy knocked the Ford flathead off its throne.   

The Big Three.   That would be General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler.   GM consists of Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, and Cadillac.  Ford includes Mercury, Edsel, and Lincoln.  Chrysler also includes Dodge and Plymouth (also known as"MOPAR").

Other, defunct car companies also made their own V8s; of these, American Motors (AMC) lasted the longest.  Popular displacements included 304, 343, 360, 390, and the largest, the 401.  Like many V8s of a given series, they were the same size externally; like Pontiac, AMC did not have “big blocks” or “small blocks”.  Oddball AMC models like the Gremlin and Pacer could be purchased with the 304 – and hotrodded with the 401, which would otherwise be in the Javelin (muscle car) or full size models.  Studebaker, Packard, and International Harvester also made their own V8s.

Hot Rodding.  An engine’s “displacement” is the cubic volume of its cylinders (leaving aside rotary engines, only made by Mazda, for the purpose of this discussion).  A cylinder has a height (stroke) and diameter (bore).  An engine makes power by bringing in air, mixing that with a specific ratio – 14.7:1 (stoichiometric) – of fuel, and igniting that mixture with a spark plug.  The larger the cylinder, the more air can be thus processed, and thus more power.  However, the bore and stroke are internal dimensions; the external dimensions generally remain the same.

Although Pontiac, unlike other GM divisions, did not have “small” and “big” blocks, it stratified its V8s into three parallel series.  The smaller engines, the 326 and 350, served as entry level.  The larger engines, the 389 and 400, were mid-level, and the larger engines, the 421, 428, and 455, were reserved for the full size cars – the Bonneville and Catalina.  However, all these engines are the same size externally.  One Saturday morning back in 1963, the Pontiac techs and engineers, led by John DeLorean, realized that the 389 V8 would drop into the entry-level sized LeMans in place of the 326 it was being sold with.  The 389-equipped LeMans was much faster and more fun to drive.  “Pity we can’t sell it with that engine,” they thought.  “Well, we can – as an option” – the GTO.  An instant success! 

GM vs. the others.  With Ford/Mercury and Chrysler, the corporate family shared engines across divisions.  Cadillac and Lincoln make their own engines, which have more in common with each other than with their division brothers.  GM, until 1982, had each division making its own, which caused some confusion.  Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile and Buick all had 350 cubic inch V8s, all four being completely different.  All four had a 400 cubic V8, again all completely different.  Chevrolet’s largest big block was a 454, while Buick, Olds and Pontiac (“BOP”) all had a 455 – and all were different.

I have to laugh at this.  In the early 70s, GM started switching around V8s in its different divisions, without telling the customers, assuming they didn’t know or care – and many of them didn’t.  Until…one Oldsmobile customer (Joseph Siwek) brought his brand new 1977 Olds Delta 88 into the local Olds dealer for service.  The tech gave him back his Olds V8 parts, telling him the Chevrolet (not Oldsmobile) 350 V8 in his new car didn’t need them.  “Chevrolet V8?  But I bought an Oldsmobile!”  Tech shrugs, “I guess they’re putting Chevrolet V8s in Oldsmobiles now.”  This irate customer sued GM for false advertising and won.  They didn’t stop the policy, but the court ordered that they add a fine print disclaimer to the sales material warning customers that their GM vehicle might be equipped with an engine made by a different division of GM.  Automotive History: The 1977 Oldsmobile Chevrolet Engine Scandal – There’s No Rocket In My 88’s Pocket | Curbside Classic

The most pertinent example of this was when Pontiac stopped making V8s in 1981, and all 1982- (third and fourth) generation Firebirds wound up with a Chevrolet V8 under the hood.  This was even more tragic because until the 350 became available in 1987, the best Chevrolet V8 you could get in a Firebird was a 305, most of which struggled to reach 200 HP.  In addition to putting out considerably more horsepower than the 305, the 350 also puts out far more torque and responds much better to performance modifications, which is why it remains the most popular displacement of the classic small block Chevy V8. 

GM has a pecking order of its divisions.  The basic idea is that a GM customer would start out with a Chevrolet, and progressively upgrade to the other divisions as he/she got better jobs.  Trade your Chevrolet in for a Pontiac, trade your Pontiac in for an Oldsmobile, trade your Oldsmobile in for a Buick, and finally upgrade to a Cadillac.  Failing the last, most hearses (station wagons used to transport coffins) are made by Cadillac, meaning your last ride is likely to be in a Cadillac, even if you’re not alive to enjoy it.

Chevrolet.  I’ve already described the revolutionary small block.  In addition, there are two big block series.  The first was the W block variety, from 1958-64, in 348, 409, and 427 cubic inch displacements.  The 409 features in the Beach Boys’ song of the same name: “my four speed dual quad positraction 409”.  The valve covers look like inverted W’s, but the heads didn’t flow nearly well enough.  So they started from scratch with the big block (1965-76 in passenger cars), in 396/402, 427, and 454 displacements.  The big block remains in existence as a crate engine, a monster 632 cubic inch, 1000 HP behemoth, which will presumably drop in where a 396, 427 or 454 used to be. 

LS Engines.  With the notable exception of the ZL1 427, all Chevrolet V8s have iron blocks.  Corvettes received aluminum cylinder heads on its TPI engines, but the block itself remained iron.  In between the Tuned Port Injected 350 (L98) in Firebirds, Camaros and Corvettes was the LT1 V8, with aluminum cylinder heads, reverse flow cooling, and Optispark ignition, bringing power from 240 (L98) to 275 (LT1).  But GM started from scratch with an aluminum block for the LS engines, the current standard V8s.  4.8, 5.3 and 6.0L displacements are in trucks, 5.7L and 6.0L in Camaros and Corvettes, all the way up to 7.0L for its most powerful versions. 

Pontiac.  Its three series of V8s are noted above.  Add to this the 265/301 from 1980-81, a last-ditch effort, including turbocharging the 301 in Trans Ams and Formulas.  Pontiac brought its V8 out in 1955, the same year as Chevrolet.  As noted, Pontiac is closest to Chevrolet in the pecking order.  Oddly, when it came time to make the F body (Camaro and Firebird), Oldsmobile wanted in, but GM thought a third variant would thin the market out too much.  So they thew Olds the bone of allowing them to jazz up the Cutlass with the Hurst/Olds model in 1968, silver and black with the 455 V8.  Imagine an alternate universe where you have Oldsmobile F-bodies in 1967-69, 1970-81, 1982-92, and 1993-2002.  Mind.  Blown. 

As noted, Pontiac doesn’t have big or small blocks, and its V8s range from 326 to 455.  In addition to the small block, Chevy has the big block, generally in 396, 427, and 454 displacements.  Pontiac dropped 455s in Firebird Formulas and Trans Ams in the 1970s, from 1971-76, while Chevrolet never did the same with Camaros – and it phased out the 396 after 1972.  Dealers like Yenko (in Pennsylvania) or Baldwin-Motion (on Long Island) may have dropped 427s and 454s into Chevys themselves. 

Pontiac cylinder heads.  The standard heads have semi-circular exhaust ports, so-called “D” port.  The Ram Air II, IV, 455HO and SD455 heads have round ports.  The round port heads flow much better than the D ports, which is why those engines are the top Pontiac V8s.  When Edelbrock decided to make aluminum versions of Pontiac cylinder heads, they used the Ram Air IV heads as a starting point, although their aluminum heads actually have D ports – but the “D” is on its side.

My closest experience with Pontiac V8s came in 1998, when I purchased a 400 out of a Trans Am which had gone bad.  I put it on a stand in my parents’ garage and gradually broke it down to the block itself.  The machine shop confirmed that the block and crank were history, so they went into the trash.  The heads were “6X”, a later D-port variant (no Firebirds after 1974 have round port heads).  I took out all 16 valves and cleaned them, later having some of the parts bead blasted and painted.  I still have some of the parts (oil filler tube guide). 

Oh, and Pontiac is named after a famous Native American chief from the Detroit area.  Its earlier logo was an Indian head, and later switched to a down-pointing red arrowhead. 

Oldsmobile.  Oldsmobile was second, after Cadillac, to produce an OHV V8 (1949).  Small blocks include the 330, 350, and 403.  The 403 replaced the Pontiac 400 in 1979 Trans Am automatic transmission applications (“6.6 Litre”) for 185 HP, vs. the 4 speed manual Pontiac 400 (“T/A 6.6”) with 220 HP. Big blocks include the 400, 425, and 455.  Someone put an Olds 455 from a 1972 F-85 in my 76 Firebird.  Someday I might even get it running.  Olds V8s have rear mounted distributors and an oil filler tower in the front of the engine, as opposed to simply a cap on the valve covers most V8s use.

Oldsmobile’s logo features an uprising rocket, with “Rocket” frequently invoked in the name.  [Clutch: “My Rocket 88, fastest in the land, crucial, crucial, VELOCITY!”].    

Buick.  Small blocks range from their aluminum 215, all the way up to 350.  Big blocks include 400, 430, and 455.  Somewhat confusingly, the big block series replaced the first V8 series (1953-64) (the Nailhead, due to small valves) which ranged from 264 to 425 cubic inches, including a 401 cubic inch variant.  Buick V8s have front mounted distributors.    

Cadillac.  The first GM division to produce an OHV V8, in 1948.  This series lasted all the way the 1970s, ranging from 331 cubic inches all the way to 500 cubic inches, the largest displacement V8 engine ever available in a US car.  And since the Cadillac V8 isn’t much larger than any other, some hot rodders will drop a Cadillac 500 into another car. 

Northstar and Blackwing.  While the non-Chevrolet V8s – except for Oldsmobile diesel V8s – died in 1982, Cadillac, being GM’s luxury division, kept their own V8s.  For awhile these were the Northstar engines (1993-2011): all aluminum, shared with Oldsmobile, and capable of running without coolant.  The newest Cadillac V8 is a new design, the Blackwing, a 4.2L twin turbo OHC V8, from 2018-2020.

Moving off from General Motors…

Ford.  Ford eventually phased out its flathead V8 and joined the rest.  Then it came up with a variety of different families and displacements.   302 (5.0L) is probably the most popular, winding up with a carburetor and then EFI in 1979-93 Fox body Mustangs, often with the 5 speed manual (5.0 5 speed).  The 351 can either be a 351 Windsor (same family as the 302) or Cleveland (different family).  For larger engines, there’s the 427, the 428 (including the 428 Cobra Jet), 429 (Cobra Jet and BOSS), and the 460.  Then they phased out the 5.0L in favor of a new design 4.6L, and then went back to 5.0L displacement for a new version of the engine.  To be honest, I’ve never been much of a fan of Mustangs.

Ford V8s – Post Flathead.  Part 1: Y Block (1954-64).  As noted, the Flathead was retired in 1953, replaced with the Y block, which was a more modern OHV design.  The Y blocks have a strange intake setup where the ports are on top of each other rather than side by side.  The lifter design, solid lifters adjusted by the rocker arms, was the most troublesome part of the design.

Part 2:  Windsor/90 Degree (1964 – present).  260, 289, 302, 351W.  Of these the 289 was common in the first Mustangs, and the 302 more common in Fox body Mustangs as the “5.0L”. 

Part 3.  335 Series (1970-75).  351 and 400, with the 351 Cleveland (named after the factory they were made in) the most popular.

Part 4.  FE Series (1958-76).  390, 427, and 428 are the most famous examples.  And the most famous of these is the 428 Cobra Jet, arguably the best street V8 Ford made in the muscle car era (1964-75).

Part 5.  385 Series (1968-75).  429 and 460.  The largest engines Ford made.  These include the Boss 429, the closest thing to a hemi engine Ford made. 

Chrysler.  Small blocks:  318 (5.2L), 340, 360 (5.9L) are the most popular displacements.  The small block Mopar V8 can be recognized by its rear-mounted distributor.  Big blocks: 383, 413, 426, and 440 are the most popular displacements. These include the 440 Six Pack (three two barrel carburetors) and the 426 Hemi.  A 360 will drop in place of a 318, a 440 in place of a 383, but the Hemi heads are so much larger and the engine so much wider, that fitting a Hemi in car that didn’t come with it is not an easy task.  There was actually an earlier Hemi V8 in the 1950s, distinguished by its rear mounted distributor; the 66-71 Hemi has its distributor in the front. 

In 2006 MOPAR resurrected the Hemi as a modern, fuel injected engine in 5.7L and 6.1L (later 6.4L) displacements in the Magnum, Charger R/T, Challenger R/T, and Chrysler 300.  All have two spark plugs per cylinder with individual coils on each cylinder.  I had a 2009 Charger R/T from 2015 to 2020, which had the standard 5.7L Hemi (370 HP).  The SRT8 version, in 6.1L, had 420 HP.  Then they upped the ante with a supercharger, the Hellcat, putting out 700 HP.  Although MOPAR has announced the end of gas engine Chargers and Challengers, the Hellcat V8 is available as a crate engine – should you have the $$$.

Again, the trend seems to be to phase out ICE engines for electric motors, but given the extremely limited recharging infrastructure and length of time necessary to recharge – compared to filling up your gas tank in 5 minutes – the full transition is years down the road, so to speak, if ever.  And crate engines suffice if we need to replace an older V8 with a new one.  LS swaps have become more common and popular among GM owners, as the LS engine is light (all aluminum), reliable, and not only powerful in stock form, but respond well to a richly developed aftermarket.