Greased Lightning (1977), a review:

While Pam Grier is a beauty in her own right, her pic in the movie poster is a completely inaccurate portrayal of her character in the film. I guess they were leaning heavily on her “Queen of Blaxploitation films” fame.

Wendell Scott (Richard Pryor) has always been speed crazy ever since he was a bike-riding kid. Even as a returning G.I. he still harbored dreams of being a racecar driver. Few took him seriously, as he had a couple of things going against him: he’s a black man, a black man living in mid-century southern United States. To put it mildly, it wasn’t the status quo. Setting a relatively practical goal of opening his own garage, Wendell starts out as a taxi driver. With income not that great despite the long hours, he’s seduced by the money and speed from the local bootlegging operations.

Wendell became one of the best bootleggers in his area. The local authorities couldn’t catch him neither on the roads or off; it looked like he was untouchable. Wife Mary (Pam Grier) wanted him to quit due to the too many close run-ins with the law, including them visiting their home; they knew it was Wendell, so it was only a matter time before he got caught.

Caught he was. Local law enforcement was thrilled… until Wendell was set free. The local racetrack promoter Billy Joe Byrnes (Noble Willingham, from Walker, Texas Ranger fame, which I’ve started watching) worked out a deal with Sheriff Cotton (Vincent Gardenia), so Wendell could be something of a sideshow attraction: a black racecar driver. Wendell started to actually make the local boys sweat before he got driven off. Wendell may have been driven off track, but no one counted that he didn’t get driven off racing, quite the opposite: Wendell was going to become a professional racecar driver.

Finding the Leak, Extra Rage Edition:

This is what happens when you don’t have a clear answer for a problem.

What you see before you is the remains of the dash of Mom’s 2000 Dodge Caravan Sport. It’s been in the family since new. Since 2016, it has been inconsistently leaking rain water in the passenger footwell area, leaving me to vacuum it up and use newspaper to dry what’s left for the following days. Confusingly, it fixed itself. Years passed and the Caravan is still with us. And the leak came back. By this time, I’ve finally found a good shop and decided to let them take care of it. They did. I was told that the plastic housing of the A/C box (that holds the blower motor, blend doors, some ducting, stepper motors, etc.) was cracked and the best course of action was to close the A/C door leading outside and just run the A/C in recirculating mode.

I accepted this.

Then the leak came back.

I got angry.

The Knight Industries Two Thousand – K.I.T.T.- Behind the scanner

8 years ago, on CarLustBlog.com, I not only wrote about Knight Rider’s K.I.T.T., but also about how he was made real through the magic of 1980s television. It’s been edited and expanded upon slightly, but essentially the same. In the years since this was first published, hardcore fans like the likes of the Knight Rider Historians have upgraded and expanded from their previous online efforts, becoming ambassadors of the franchise. They’ve delved deeper in the behind-the-scenes action of the show, so this post might be a little dated as I’ve yet to cross-reference with a lot of their material. Feel free to comment below.

I liked Knight Rider so much that I wrote not one but two posts about its star, the Knight Industries Two Thousand- K.I.T.T. for short. The first one had to do with K.I.T.T. the character; this one is how that character came to be. Just like the first post, websites and blogs have been made and books have been written about the making of K.I.T.T., the stunts and how they were made, so I’ll try to keep those details to a minimum, too. Which was easier said than done.

Chrysler Turbine

This, gentle readers, was my very first post at the old Car Lust, way back on August 12, 2008. Not sure why I picked this one, but I vaguely recall that I’d seen something on TV about it and thought “Well, that’s certainly Lustable”. In a sense, a good chunk of my posts thereafter used this as something of a baseline as how one might examine certain ‘failed’ cars. I’ll have some thoughts along these lines at the end; in the meantime, I’ve done a bit of editing but this is substantially the same post.

Chevrolet El Camino/Ford Ranchero

Ladies, you may stop reading right now. Avert your eyes, if you must, because this post is about men.  Real men. Manly men. Men who do manly things in manly ways, etc. Men who mow their own lawn, fix a leaky faucet, and change their own oil. Men who brew up a pot of battery acid every morning and call it coffee. Men who use after-shave, not “post-shave skin conditioner with aloe, seaweed extract and Vitamin E with a subtle scent of coriander.” Men who wouldn’t touch a quiche with a 10-foot fork. Men who only drink whiskeys that are named after animals or people. Men who cry only when their father or best hunting dogs die. Men who frankly, my dear, don’t give a damn. Men who know every manly cliché from the last 30 years and aren’t afraid to use them.

These men drive a particular type of car. A car that drips testosterone like a leaky gasket. A car that says, “I know what I need, and this is it.” These type of men know that they’ll never drive the length and breadth of the Kalahari, but they will sure as hell be hauling 4-by-8s home from the lumberyard (note: not the “home improvement store”). Men who don’t need fine Corinthian leather or a station wagon dressed up as an Urban Assault Vehicle. No, this is the Steve McQueen of cars: no entourage, no workout video, and no frou-frou drinks with little umbrellas.

Yeah, I know, the lack of a Y-chromosome doesn’t disqualify anyone from appreciating these fine cars, let alone owning or driving one. There are no doubt many men who just don’t have the …… good taste to rate this kind of car, and plenty of women who do. It’s far more about the mindset than which restroom door you come out of.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Is he talking about one car or two?” Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I’ve kinda lost track myself. Read on, but only if you feel lucky, punk.