Chapter 14:
The Old Man and the Chevy
23 May 2000 The Beast is back!
It's parked in front of the house, where it will have to dodge the meter maids and I'll worry about it's gonna get stolen, but it's still nice to have it back.
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| Happy '56 Chevy with a new radiator and a cool-looking hood ornament. Think I should get a hood bird? |
Because the truck spent the last few months in Santa Cruz, I haven't had much of a chance to do anything to it. The most extensive fix done was replacing the radiator, which was an oddly circular event.
I took delivery of the Panel Delivery from Debbie, Dad's second wife and widow, almost exactly a year ago. As I drove it from her place to my sister's it totally overheated, blowing water everywhere. This dampened my spirits (and a bunch of other stuff) somewhat, but Garryowen Gunsett, my sister's former boyfriend, took it upon himself to resolve the problem. The thermostat was stuck closed, of course, but the radiator was also leaky. The radiator guy who patched it said: "The radiator is not in great shape. I'll fix it, and it should last about a year or so." Spooky, huh?
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| On the left, the old, leaky Harrison radiator: On the right, The new Desert Cooler. |
About a month ago, Karen told me the radiator was leaking. Fine. I'll just replace it. I eventually found a good, brand-spanking-new unit at The famous Chevy Parts Warehouse in San Martin. I was just looking for a standard size, but all they had was a deluxe model. What the hey? I bought it. I installed it the next day, and now the Thriftmaster is cooled by the large-capacity, 4-tube Desert Cooler. I'm sure it's a happier system now. For instance, when I run the heater, the temperature gauge doesn't waver: with the old one, the needle would drop at full heat, a sign of low cooling capacity.
On close inspection the old radiator was not a Chevy truck model. It apparently had but 2 rows of cooling tubes and home-made metal flanges had been bolted onto it, which were bent to line up with the body mounts (check it out on the photo). It looked very much like the sort of patch-cocked, improvised sort of fix my Dad would do.
(This segues neatly into a section I have been meaning to put up on the site for a few months now.)
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Lawrence James Christopherson |
Don't misconstrue me: I have incredible respect for that guy. Larry Christopherson was a person of great talent and intelligence, and whatever he did he did with incredible energy and skill. And he did a lot of stuff: Member of the Vagabonds Hot-Rod club in the 1950s, U.S. Marine (1957-1960, discharged as an E-4), utility lineman for Pacific Gas and Electric. Labor union negotiator, bar owner, and an accountant.
Larry was not, however, a classic car enthusiast. He was never interested in customizing, restoring, or anything outside of simple operation and basic transportation. (My mom said that even in his hotrod days he would tool around in an old Buick with a kitchen chair in back where the rear seat should've been). I doubt he ever bought a new car, certainly never after 1970. He told me the primary reason he owned an old truck: "The engine isn't covered up with all that smog crap, and it was free." He tied a lanyard to the glove box to jerk it open, and as far as I know never fixed the heater (which would have involved replacing the blower switch and the heater core valve). But this was just an aspect of his personality, and an interesting one at that.
But let the Old Man tell you himself. In his extensive journals I found an excerpt that neatly embodies his automotive philosophy. I'll set it up: In 1994, he was working as an office manager and accountant for a small Santa Cruz company that delivered sawdust (Real names have been obscured to protect... well, me!). He hated that job very much, especially the owner, L----, who was apparently more of a big-rig enthusiast than a businessperson:
April 1, 1994
Dad, about 1961, after he wrecked my mom's T-bird. They were soon married. It was a different world.
(I colorized this photograph with the intention of giving it to Dad for Christmas, but he died before I could.)
Things are cookin' at S---- C--- S-------. I'm now scheduling deliveries for the yard two days later, and there's a list of s**t to do on the Big Strapper [Larry's nickname for L----] list that would choke a horse. The problem, as usual, is L----. He won't hire anyone to be the yard guy (all the good drivers have jobs) and he continues to try to do a job (yard guy) which he can't handle. He wants to polish trucks and steam clean trucks and generally be a groomer something like those suckerfish that people keep to clean the glass in their aquariums. He tried to hire the guy with the pacemaker, Monte H----, but Monte turned him down.
In my estimation, if we hired a yard guy, and if L---- drove the truck instead of polishing it, we could be having about 70K receivables. Regularly. At least until spring was over and things dropped back to normal. We have a delivery Mack, a delivery Kenworth transfer, an 83 Peterbilt transfer which can deliver 90 yards, two complete Pete rigs which can deliver 100 yards apiece, and we have L---- and two drivers. And L----- is as useless as tits on a hog.
True to form, L---- wound up taking care of [an important client] yesterday in driving rain and wind. He would have gotten it done and got the check if he had loaded the transfer the night before instead of fixing trailer windows. We kind of came to an agreement that we have different outlooks on Strapper policy. Him and B---- were in the office telling war stories about stacks and split shifters and hammer down when all of a sudden L---- tells me that I would look at things differently if I had ever driven a sawdust truck. He was referring to the way I schedule the runs and then question their abilities when they find excuse after excuse not to deliver.
Larry and Karen, 1969. I told him that no, I had never driven a sawdust truck. I have, however, driven Petes, Kenworths, Freightliners, Macks, lowboys, cranes, backhoes, cats, graders, line trucks, utility trailers, bucket trucks, tensioners, reel trailers, concrete plant trailers, drill cats, and a dozen other rigs in my time. I've hauled sugar beets and fence gates. The only difference between me and L----- is that I consider a truck to be a tool -- a way to get a specific job done. Driving big rigs was what we used to do in order to get to where the real work was. If a guy offers me a hundred thousand bucks to do a job which will absolutely total the truck, I won't hesitate. L----, on the other hand, puts the beauty and salability of the truck as his first priority, which costs him money all the time. To me, there isn't any reason to own a truck except to generate income.
Larry and Debbie, July 1984. L---- listened to what I had to say and then walked out. At least we won't be bickering about whether a job should be done any more. At least, I hope not. He never tells anyone how he feels about anything, but he's probably seething about my attitude.
That's what always got me in the soup before -- that piss-poor attitude. I like L-----'s honesty, but as far as I'm concerned he's a dork.
So there it is. Upon reflection, his minimalist maintenance philosophy has been both a boon and a bane. We did indeed inherit a fully operational 1956 Chevy Panel Delivery, because he preferred old, big, and simple; but it has been maintained, rather than restored, over the last fifteen years, and that shows as well. Ah, hell, what am I complaining about-- it gave me something to do!
The next work in store is a general tune-up, head bolt tightening, and I'm going to start buying what I need to get the 3.38:1 rear end gear installed. Some wonderful new developments are afoot, and The Beast will have to hit the road big-time this summer so they can happen.
Offbeat Idea Update: I've now talked to two people about paint and body work in Mexico, and I'm more interested in this option than ever. My cousin Nacho in San Diego (Yes, I have a cousin named Nacho in San Diego: I have lots of cousins. I'm half Mexican) has had work done there before, and knows the territory. You'll be hearing more about him. Another person who had work done in TJ said it was unbelievably cheap and quick.
I've also done some serious web surfing to find info on this, and there's absolutely nothing. It could be an Internet first.