Only Nuckin’ Futs would drive an orange car…with a wing in the back.
Loud. Low.
It was so low a cigarette pack couldn’t squeeze under it
Windows in the “you-have-the-right-to-pull-me-over” tint.
Photo by Drew Phillips
In the land of the California Highway Patrol. LAPD. LACS.
They love Nuckin’ Futs…a lot.
LEO’s love Nuckin’ Futs’ loud orange car
Why is that?
Polished Roushcharger with polished 2.57″ Carmen pulley; 505 HP VMP tune
Supercharger with pulley
Roush Cold Air Intake
PVD Black Chrome Moroso tanks and valve covers
Car stops on a yen. Wilwood six-pistons with 14″ slotted and cross-drilled rotors and “Red Stuff” pads with fat Yokohama S.drives
Nuckin’ Futs gets to sit on full six-way power and HEATED leather seats…as does Nuckin’ Futs’ little girl on the way to school…
…while looking at Jack Roush’s signature in front of her.
Mr. Roush signing Nuckin’ Futs’ car
Before the before the “Before the Boo Boo” Now look. You got it, yes?
Before the before the “Before the Boo Boo” Now look
Before the “Before the Boo Boo” Now look. Nuckin’ Futs behind the wheel. Only four of these body kits were in the US; the other three were on show cars.
I used the same setup but with a telephoto. Rugged Canon F-1 with a 250 exposure back. Heap of moolah back then.
In the “old days”, we shot with 35mm cameras that used something called…film.
You loaded your own bulk film if you shot a lot.
You manipulated something called “ASA”.
You had to meter the light and set your shutter speed and f/stop.
There was no auto focus.
Me on the left with my motor driven Canon F-1 dangling from my shoulder. This was my mom and aunt’s war time refuge in the town of Fukui. At my relative’s home.
The cameras were made out of steel with metal gears – weighed a ton…especially if you carried an external motor drive with EIGHT AA batteries.
You developed your negatives at home – according to temperature.
Processing tanks. For 250 exposure lengths, I used a tub.
There was no “Photoshop”. You used an enlarger and “dodged” and “burned” your prints to make corrections.
You all have it easy now. Well, I guess me too.
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Just for memory’s sake (and my ego), here are two of my award-winning sports shots from 1972. From one statewide photo contest. These are surviving test prints, i.e., boo-boo prints that had been stashed away by luck. 🙂
The final prints – from the best printing efforts – were mounted and submitted.
Available light (and lighting was poor, believe me). I didn’t use flash as I felt it distracted the players trying their best to win.
Exposed Tri-X at 2400 ASA and “cooked” the negatives in HC-110 replenisher. Brutal stuff.
I usually shot from the stands, rim level, for a different perspective.
You had to anticipate the play and pre-focus.
And some luck.
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1st Place
Recently scanned and unretouched. That’ll be cheating now, wouldn’t it?
Honorable Mention:
Ditto.
Not bad for not having taken photo classes. All self-taught.
OK.
My ego’s placated…and no criticisms from the pros who might be peeking.
I had a date last night…and she was a varsity high school cheerleader, no less. Any man’s dream as they say.
It was the most wonderful evening for me in close to two decades.
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Oh, her name is Mari Jo and very happily married. Darn. Double darn. Her loving Husband was kind enough to “lend” her to me for our 40th high school reunion. They both bought me my ticket to make sure I’d go to the reunion. How embarrassing for a man of old ways.
Mari Jo and I have been friends since six or seven years of age – from around (ahem) 1960 or so. We went to a great elementary school in the heart of East Los Angeles called 4th Street Elementary. It still stands. Brick auditorium, too.
She had a touch of freckles, blond hair with the slightest of curls and an infectious smile back then. More than 50 years later, she still does. Priceless.
True childhood friends. The best. No walls. No mask. Out in the open.
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Nearly all of us were pretty much in the same boat. Our families were trying to make ends meet. Since we knew no other lifestyle, we all looked upon each other for support. I see this in hindsight now.
Mari Jo is at the left on the third row. Me? Guess.
It seems as if mom stopped by for this “May Day” dance perhaps in 1966. Mari Jo can be seen being twirled around by another childhood friend Ralph – he’s the tallest one on the left.
Tall one on the left is Ralph. The cute blond girl he is twirling around is Mari Jo. The “Asian” in the middle… Well…
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We were all blessed to have stayed together through what we called junior high school back then. That school, too, is still standing. Junior high school would end up giving Mari Jo a lot of memories – both painful and happy. One of her proudest moments… I think she looks fabulous, don’t you?
Mari Jo was a “Tower Queen Dance” princess in 1969.
Mari Jo was cheerleading even in junior high. She is at the far right.
You know which one is Mari Jo by now…off to the right.
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In high school, our friendship continued. Mari Jo was a popular young lady. She was funny, outgoing and cared about others…and she was one of our varsity cheerleaders. Odd that bubbly Mari Jo would be one. Are you kidding me?
She is off to the far right – it is from a frame from one of my surviving negatives from back then.
Not a very good shot (I would crop later) but there’s Mari Jo on the far right cheering on our football team.
Did I mention she was a ham, too? She was one of my favorite candid photography subjects. I was apparently known as the guy who always had a camera hanging from my shoulder. While sports photography was where I exceled (with basic equipment), many of my photos ended up in the school newspaper or the yearbook. I had taken tens of thousands of photos, then developed the negatives at the house then printed them. And the friends I gave the prints to were happy… and that made me happy. The plumbing was never the same after all the processing and printing. That didn’t make my parents happy, I’m sure.
I treasured the negatives for decades…but about six years ago, my littlest firecracker Brooke decided to let the air out of an IMMENSE three tier inflatable pool full of water… but the darn wife had put the IMMENSE pool IN the garage (where my CAR should have been) so that the kids would not get dark from the sun. Why have an IMMENSE three tier pool bigger than Lake Erie if you don’t want your kids to get dark??
When my angelic Brooke pulled the plugs, the garage flooded – and all but one set of the high school negatives were ruined. The prints from those precious days that survived were also gone…including my most favorite one which was a double-exposure of Mari Jo immediately after losing the football league championship game in the final seconds.
A devasted Mari Jo – and school – sobbed after losing in the final seconds. Scanned from our yearbook. My most favorite photo of all.
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I last saw Mari Jo later that year – 1972 – after graduation. She was moving to Las Vegas to get married.
While we had written a letter or two soon thereafter, for the next 37 years, I oft thought of Mari Jo (and of two other childhood friends, “Fritos” and Ralph)… What happened to her? Was she happy? I was so angry at myself for failing to stay in touch…
Then… I came across a lead. I sent off another blind email like I did for my dad’s high school yearbook; I guess that’s my MO… and she replied! OMFG.
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We learned of each other’s paths since parting. But most of all, she was HAPPY. That was all that mattered to me. She is now happily married with two great kids…and a granddaughter!
But good ol’ Mari Jo… She knows of my life’s recent events and she – with her good husband’s encouragement – came to my rescue last night. If I can sum it up as best I can, she said basically you plan for life – but what happens is life. Life is but ambiguity and dwelling does no good… to move on.
Before we met, I kidded her my hands were sweaty and that I was nervous… like a certain escort she had one night when she was young. She called me poop head. Loved that. But I was nervous.
She snuck up on me and surprised the dickens out of me… and man, it was worth it. She looked stunning – gorgeous if I may say – but it was Mari Jo. That same infectious smile. From 4th Street School. In East LA.
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Speaking personally, I had the most grandest of times… It started with Mari Jo screaming – just a tad. After picking her up from her hotel, I did a burn out in my car. It was just a little scream, Husband. Really. Well, it was more a case of Mari Jo sinking her manicures into the ceiling.
Needless to say, she was the most ravishing one there… and she was my date! Thank you, Husband!
I felt so good, I did the cha-cha with her… Well, kinda. I had forgotten how to… but the song was “Suavecito”. An East LA favorite. My legs hurt this morning.
I won’t go into the reasons but the varsity cheerleaders and I overall had a special relationship – and four of the eight were there!
Three of the four cheerleaders there at the reunion.
Aren’t I a lucky old fart?
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Thanks for rooting for me, Mari Jo. You blew in fresh air and helped rekindle a smothered flame.
Dad’s eyes got a teensy-weensy bit watery again today.
Perhaps its becoming a routine.
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Went to see Dad this morning. Took him his “bentou”, or Japanese lunch to-go, as a change of pace. They only serve America cuisine there.
Pork cutlet bento
Not that he complains. He doesn’t. But all the servers there know he WON’T eat fish. He makes sure of that.
Also took him “yokan”, “senbei”, “manjyuu”, and Morinaga caramel (his favorite from decades ago)… Oh. And “anpan”. Gotta feed his sweet tooth. Make him happy is all that matters now.
Another favorite of Dad’s – anpan
While he asked how “Sue-boh” is as usual (his favorite brother who was KIA), he – by coincidence – talked about how he broke his elbow again. 😉
But this time, I had the pictures I had taken last month with me! Blew his mind. He “kinda” remembered my son and I went to Japan, but he couldn’t comprehend how I got those pictures. Oh well. Anyways, the most important thing was that yes, that was the large stone he jumped from…but he asked, “Where’s the benjo? There was a benjo there behind the tree.” A “benjo” is kind of like an Japanese-style outhouse. 🙂 And that definitely was the (remnants of the) branch.
You should have seen his boyish smile.
I took along what vintage pages I dared to from Grandmother Kono’s album today. I was concerned as they were so fragile… but Dad handled them gingerly.
He said there was a butcher shop in the brick building in the background. That brick building at King and Maynard is still standing.
He particularly liked the photo of him, Mieko and Suetaro… He had a nice smile. I wonder what was going through his thoughts then but I wasn’t going to interrupt.
He is smiling while looking at the three of them. By the way, the stone bracelet he is wearing was from Masako and Izumi. He says he doesn’t take it off but doesn’t remember where it came from. 😉
I think his eyes got a bit watery.
He said, “That was a long time ago,” and “懐かしい”
Just a teensy-weensy bit.
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About an hour later, he remembered looking at the vintage pictures.
One of the finds from the 100 year old shed were photos from my Grandfather Hisakichi’s barbershop. It would appear these are from about 1917 through 1930.
His shop was in the Hotel Fujii at 620 South King Street in Seattle, WA. Being raised here in America, it is not only striking to see my grandparent’s barbershop but it is so unlike those of other barbershop photographs of that time being manned by “non-Caucasians”. Is that best way of putting it? You can see the hair tonics that were used as well as the Koch porcelain barber chairs. Through the help of my friends interested in WWII history, we believe the calendar indicates shows “Thursday, October 9, 1930”.
Grandfather Hisakichi is at right. Due to the blur, we are uncertain if the lady on the left is Grandmother Kono…but the gal in the center is very attractive.
In this picture below, a “no nonsense” Grandfather Hisakichi is holding my Aunt Shiz; this would put the photo as being taken in 1917.
According to my dad a couple of weeks ago, Grandfather would work the shop by himself during the slow times but would bring in others as the season changed. They lived upstairs in a room at the hotel.
It is difficult to imagine he supported the family with this one barber shop but you would think he worked hard and was a sound businessman in a foreign country.
Oh… Since WWI was raging, he registered for the draft.
It was there at Grandfather Hisakichi’s feet… a Coleman stove! My guess is circa 1920 up near a Mt. Rainier campground… It’s just so…unexpected to see a Japanese family of the early 1900’s with such an “American” icon. I hope I am not a rascist but I sure didn’t expect it.
Grandfather Hisakichi at the right. Unretouched.
And amateurish-ly (is that a word?) retouched with free software. I’m El Cheapo:
As retouched.
Grandmother Kono is not pictured but I wonder who snapped the photo.
There was a photo of Mt. Rainier dated August 1920 on another page in the deteriorating album kept by Grandmother Kono.
Unretouched.
It is remotely possible the man on the right is also Grandfather Hisakichi but I doubt it. I feel this was at a separate outing from the campsite photo.
In the past several years, as his dementia progresses, Dad is repeating many times how he broke his elbow as a young boy… “Many times” like as in every four minutes. No…every two.
I thought, “He doesn’t remember he ate like a horse ten minutes ago… How can he remember something that happened 80+ years ago?”
Well, I just HAD to find out about his story… and I did.
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The story (which never varies) is/was he was playing “oninga”, or tag, with the neighborhood kids. “There was nothing else to do then,” he would tell me. They would end up in the yard of 正覚寺 – pronounced “Shoukakuji” – the Buddhist temple which is a hop, skip and a jump from his home. No wonder he excelled in the triple jump at Nichu.
You can see a tiled roof on the tallest structure to the right of him. That is 正覚寺.
The tiled roof of “Shoukakuji” can be seen behind and to the right of Dad in this 1948 photo. He is standing alongside his childhood home.
For those who like visuals:
Satellite view of home and Shoukakuji, 2012.
He would tell me (over and over) that while playing tag, “…I tried to get away so I jumped on this big round stone then leaped up to a branch on big a pine tree in front of 正覚寺.”
Now that I know he did the broad jump at Nichu, I thought this jumping thing was therefore plausible. (Did I mention I’m a writer for “Mythbusters”?)
“Trouble is, I jumped too far so my hands couldn’t grab onto the branch. I slipped off the branch then broke my elbow when I hit the ground”.
OK. So now, after “An Atomic Spark From a 1937 Yearbook“, I also know he excelled in the triple jump at Nichu. Plausible. (See… More proof I am a writer for “Mythbusters”.)
To this day, he cannot completely straighten out his right arm. It’s crooked. He now tells this story to my youngest kids, Jack and Brooke… Every four minutes.
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On September 7, 2012, I had to know. Off to 正覚時… But unlike my agile father of the 1920’s, I was walking very gingerly. There were four humongous blisters on my toes from walking in Japan and (from being tricked into) climbing Mt. Misen on Miyajima.
The sign at the entry gate, or “mon”. Shoukakuji’s middle character is written with an old Japanese character.
Indeed, there was a Japanese pine tree, or “matsu”. A huge one. You couldn’t miss it as you walk through the “mon”, or gate. It was so huge, the temple had steel braces installed to help hold these majestic branches up.
Steel posts and braces were installed to help hold up these ancient branches.
Off the to right, was the base of the tree. A puny trunk in relation to the Goliath branches… It was hard to believe at first this small trunk was the heart for this proud tree.
Then… at the base… was a large round stone. Could it possibly be? Plausible as we don’t know how long the stone was there… Am I tough?
Masako and my son Takeshi stand next to the large round stone and pine tree made famous by my father some eighty-plus years ago.
But where’s the branch my father jumped for? Myth: Busted!… or so I thought.
Then we saw it. Above my son Takeshi in the picture. The base of a broken branch. It was at the right height! OK… Myth: Plausible.
Here is the branch that Dad supposedly leaped for 80+ years ago…but fell and broke his elbow.
But conclusive proof was just beyond reach. There was no evidence as to age of the tree or how long the stone was there…
Then, as if Aunt Shiz summoned him, the reverend of 正覚寺 came out…with his wife. He was about 90 years old. Almost as old as my dad but he still had his wits about him. Thank goodness.
He told us he didn’t know my father personally…but that he played with Suetaro and Mieko, Dad’s youngest brother and sister! He knew Suetaro well, he said. He listened to Suetaro blow on his flute from the house in the evenings.
My Japanese wasn’t good enough so Masako stepped in… She explained to the elderly reverend how my dad (her uncle) had jumped from a large round stone at the base of a pine tree here 80+ years ago and broke his elbow.
Masako is mimicking my father’s broken right elbow and his story while my son Takeshi and cousin Kiyoshi watch. Kiyoshi was pointing to the stone to supplement the story.
Unbelievably, the reverend said with pride, “The pine tree is about 400 years old…and that stone has been there for as long as I can remember. It hasn’t been moved, either.”
Then the wife said that a number of years ago, the branch had broken off but it was very long. Then after it broke off, “…a swarm of bees made a home inside. We had to seal the crack unfortunately,” to account for the mortar on the branch.
Was his story a myth? Busted? Plausible? Confirmed?
Myth: Confirmed.
Dad wasn’t imagining ANYTHING. His memory is intact from that time.
Masako and Spam Musubi 