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Tag: Books and Bistro (Page 54 of 92)

Do they still – Slug Bug?

April 24, 2014 /

Dig those Beatle-boots! The total-denim mechanic’s outfit, complete with flared-jeans – what any self-respecting VW whiz was wearing. What?

1976?

Apparently, Volkswagon was a little late to the Tune-In-Drop-Out-Flower-Power 1960s. Or maybe they were simply hanging on to the Herbie the Love Bug thing.

The Peterson’s Complete Book of VW was a little large for the Beetle’s glove box, but carried such indispensable tips as “At-Home Lubes,” “Disk Brakes for Early Beetles,” and “Transaxle Swaps.” (The latter is now a reality show featuring significant-others on the History Channel.)

The issue came in with a batch of books and brought back a couple of memories. Who remembers the Thing? That strange-looking VW was introduced in 1969, as a reworked version of the wartime Kubelwagon – sort of like a version of the US military’s Jeep. Readers got to look back on the history in a four-page article.

Some models even I barely remember (not being a VW owner, perhaps). There is an article about Adding Dash to your Dasher. The only Dasher I recall had reindeer-power instead of horsepower.

My buddy Craig had a Bug as his first car, back in the Big Mac High School Daze, but we won’t be recalling our adventures in that thing. (Some things are best as lost to history.) Folks from McAlester – where there were plenty of unpaved county roads on which to drive Volkswagons for fun – will surely remember Mr. Isbell and his collection of VWs. I believe he was retired by the time I met him, but he might have worked harder trying to stay ahead of the mechanic work that came his way. The smiling pic of the VW ace is courtesy of Steve DeFrange.

Mr Isbell was quite patient with me, back when I was trying to repair my British sports car, and my admiration for his mechanic’s knowledge has never wavered. He put up with my interruptions in the garage at his home, where he always had a stack of newspapers to use as hand-towels.

When the engine was – at last – returned to the car (deftly lowered into place with the Stizza family’s truck and crane), the darn thing would not start. I cranked it until the battery died. We pushed it up and down the street. Nothing. I was so sure I had done it right, I couldn’t believe the engine wouldn’t fire up. Finally, I called Ken Isbell. Again with the patience, and without hesitation, he told me to remove the timing gear, flip it around, and try again.

Less than five minutes later – Vroom vroom.

Man. You gotta admire anyone who knows their stuff like that. Looking at the guy on the magazine cover, I don’t get that same feeling.

Never did see Mr. Isbell in a pair of Beatle-boots.

What’d you say? Oooooh.

April 23, 2014 /

Luckily, most interview subjects are cordial during the session. But the others more than make up for it. Take for example, the reply given to the BBC’s Sandra Harris in an interview with British author Barbara Cartland…

Harris: Have English class barriers broken down?

Cartland: Of course they have, or I wouldn’t be sitting here talking with someone like you.

Ouch.

There is a bit o’ snide. Personally, I prefer the snappy comeback. My best in-person snappy is the one my father volleyed back when I pointed out the orchestral music he was listening to was actually a Beatles song. “Too bad the Beatles can’t play it like that,” he replied, without missing a beat.

Another quick-draw that remains one of my all-time favorites came from musician Frank Zappa. The interviewer was a fellow named Joe Pyne, who employed an argumentative and confrontational style. Pyle walked on a prosthetic leg after a bout with cancer, but it didn’t slow down his verbal assaults.

Joe Pyle: “So Frank, you have long hair. Does that make you a woman?”

Frank Zappa: “You have a wooden leg. Does that make you a table?”

Ooooh.

Merely repeating the quote from Winston Churchill leaves me red-faced with embarrassment for Betsy Braddock, who encountered the British Prime Minister at a party.

Braddock: Winston, you’re drunk.

Churchill: Bessie, you’re ugly, but tomorrow I shall be sober.

Eeek.

Then, there are those casual observations that go beyond the mark, like that of then Senator Robert Dole of Kansas. He remarked on the Washington party that brought together former presidents Jimmy Carter, Gerald Ford, and Richard Nixon, a trio that Dole described as “See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Evil.”

Pow.

Then again, some observations jab with a sharpened funny bone, like the words of comedienne Joan Rivers describing Mick Jagger and his lips of renown.

“I saw him suck an egg out of a chicken,” said Rivers. “He can play a tuba from both ends. This man has got childbearing lips.”

Oh, what an Awful Thing to Say. In fact, that’s the name of the book, with quotes gathered by William Cole and Louis Phillips. It may say something of the acerbic wit of Oscar Wilde that so many of his quotes found their way into the pages. He praises George Bernard Shaw as “an excellent man. He has not an enemy in the world and none of his friends like him.”

Bam.

Scanning through the volume makes me wonder whether these famed talkers stayed up late dreaming up these barbs and jotting them down in an ever-handy notebook. I suspect though, that some people have sharp enough tongues that – if they ever nodded off – the pillow impaled at their lips would smother them before sunrise.

No insults here, so – Come Visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!

Who so readeth this blog…

April 21, 2014 /

The year and occasion both escape me, but I remember visiting Tulsa (as a young pup) and being impressed mightily by the Camelot Hotel. Most of you probably recall it, although it has been gone for quite a few years and had lost its medieval identity years before that.

In its prime, that impressive structure made it easy to imagine King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Although history buffs will recognize that medieval castles had few amenities – you know, things like bathrooms.

The Camelot opened in September 1965 and became an instant landmark.

As ornate as the exterior was, I was compelled to see inside. The details aren’t as clear as they were decades ago, but I remember launching myself inside as though I had every right to be there, as if I had a room key stuck in my back pocket. Of course, I didn’t. But no one even seemed to notice me as I wandered around.

I poked my head into ballrooms that appeared more corporate than castle. I wandered down hallways checking out the décor. By the time of my exploration, the Camelot was on its last armour-clad legs. I distinctly recall the carpeting as pretty threadbare – long past the expiration date, if only carpets had such a thing.

The Arthur legend begins with the Sword in the Stone, (or the Lady in the Lake, depending on the version) and the Camelot had the sword-bearing-rock feature as well. In fact, the brass plaque that was mounted near the stone-embedded sword is currently being offered for sale on eBay.

If it wasn’t so pricey, I’d buy it myself and hang it over the literature section. I can imagine it with a little rewording: Who so pulleth this book of this shelf is rightwise born King Reader. Umm. Might work better left as is.

There’s no clue as to what happened to the Camelot’s sword, part of the display said to have been located by the swimming pool. If I saw it during my medieval sojourn, I have forgotten it. As I said, the place was pretty run down by the time of my tour, and apparently the carpet made a bigger impression than Excaliber. (Or maybe the sword had been removed from the stone by some King-to-be.)

Although there was no disguising the exterior, the hotel was reinvented for a short period as the Parkside Hotel, and I seem to recall a time when a religious group was going to make a headquarters of it, or some such.

Eventually, the structure went the way of so many aging buildings and was razed. Some stories associated with it are probably all but lost by now. I recall one of the Francis Ford Coppola films was shot at that intersection on Peoria, but I don’t remember if they worked it to include or exclude the hotel.

Maybe one of you broadsword-swinging-swordsmen (or swordswomen) will bid on the plaque and keep it in the vicinity. We can hang it over the mythology section until you clear up the required wall space.

Merlin smiled gently. “I cannot join you in that wish, brother.”

“Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”

Arthurian quotes, while we wait for the auction to end. (Mists of Avalon, Monte Python and the Holy Grail – respectively. Or disrespectively, as the case may be.)

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

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