Most men are terrified of death. This is understandable. How can we be sure that the beer, or the tools, or sports on the other side are really cool? What if all the women have breath that reeks from garlic, have dark moustaches, or what if the beer is warm like in Britain? What if the other side feels like just like sitting on a hard bench at the IRS Office waiting to meet an agent who wants to do a tax audit?

What if all of the cars on the other side are like the cars in Cuba, or Dodge mini-vans?

For as long as we men have had imaginations we have wondered and fretted about what happens after we leave this life. Just check out the wisdom of the Egyptian Pharaohs they created chariots for their tombs so as soon as they got "there" they could take their favorite wheels for a spin.



I was driving down Route 7 in northern Vermont on a beautiful summer day in my XTASVNATO listening to America’s ripe fertile fields, singing in harmony with my roller tappets, my dual downdraft Weber carburetors sucking Cam 2, gas and listening to Clint Blackwell on the guitar, when my car was struck by lightening.

I shot up a tunnel of white light and arrived at THE TOLL GATE IN THE SKY and this Goliath in coveralls, whose face was covered with grease and a big grin, walked over to my car and pointed at the rear engine compartment. I knew what he meant so I released the latch. He opened my hood and bent over and took a hard look at my motor, and then closed the hood gently, grinned and beckoned me on. I was in Wrencher Heaven. I had passed the test.

As I drove ahead I saw a big blinking neon sign STOP HERE FOR YOUR NEW CAR. As I stopped four beautiful women wearing coveralls came running out of the garage and beckoned me to drive into the open stall.

My hosts sat me down in front of a computer screen and explained that whatever car I wanted, MY DREAM CAR, they would immediately build for me all that I had to do is design it on the computer screen and two hours later all of the parts would be delivered and assembly would begin and I was to join in the assembly process..

I naturally asked about the cost. Do you have your potty safety belts on? ZERO, NADA, ZIP.


1938 JAGUAR COUPE STYLE BODY: I have a thing for wheeled art that was designed between 1938-1941, and that includes cars and motorcycles. These pre-war years are an apogee of beaudacity. Read my lips: No four wheel computerized jelly beans with air bags.

KEVLAR/COMPOSITE BODY: Why not create a classic 1938 body with the latest high tech ultra-light composites so we can meet our target horsepower/weight ratio.

TITANIUM TUBULAR "BIRD CAGE" FRAME: What would be prohibitively expense on Earth is "no problemo" on the other side and using this ultra/light/ultra/strong tubular frame gives me the rigidity and it is really cool to have a classic Maserati bird cage chassis.

BLUE PRINTED/BALANCED DODGE VIPER V-10 MOTR WITH DOUBLE TURBO CHARGERS: Personally I think that 800 reliable horsepower in a 2,000 pound touring car is about right for elegant driving. What do you think? The combo of elegant 1938 body style and wretchedly excessive American horsepower is what dreams are made of.

LEATHER UPHOLSTERY MADE FROM RAWLING'S BASEBALL GLOVE LEATHER: When I was a young baseball player (age 10) I dreamed of having a car that had upholstery that was made from brand new Rawlings baseball leather…and smelled like new baseball gloves. Why not?

TRUNK: CIGAR HUMIDOR/HOT HOME MADE PIE CUBARD/ESPRESSO COFFEE MAKER. No explanation about the benefits of stopping and eating a fresh slice of hot home made pie, a cup of espresso and smoking a fine cigar.

MUSIC SYSTEM: All Alnico magnet speakers and David Berning's OTL car amplifier.


Can you imagine the thrill of driving this custom made car on heavenly country roads that I created and cost me ZERO? That is the good news.

The bad news? I had to return to Earth to continue my work shredding the boundaries of the audio arts, so after only driving my heavenly car for a couple of hundred miles…I found myself, shooting down a tunnel of white light, and arriving on that road in northern Vermont soon on my way home.

The lesson? He who serves his bro's needs for musical ecstasy, shall be rewarded on most high.

I hope my experience on the other side has brought you some comfort and faith. Ride On. HAVE FAITH.

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