anyone recognize this quote?

[Young Ed]

I found this saved on my PC and was going to put it in my signature on here. Thought maybe I should try to give credit to its author.

"The experience of hot rods cannot be explained substantially to those unfamiliar. It cannot be shared with the unfeeling, it cannot be defined without prior knowledge. It's either a part of you or it isn't and nothing can change that. Such is the nature of the soul and such is the way of the hot rod."

[Don Coatney]

Ed;

Not sure but possibly Albert Einstein

[Jim Saraceno]

I'm pretty sure that Confucius, Abraham Lincoln, Shakespeare, Mark Twain, Will Rogers, and Yogi Berra said everything that was quotable, so I'm going with one of them.

[greg g]

I know it wasn't Bloat Clodington.

[eric wissing]

Abe "Hot Rod" Lincoln ?

[Brad Lustig]

Looks like a philosophical mind on the HAMB. That's the only place I found the quote on the web.

http://www.jalopyjournal.com/forum/showthread.php?t=69733&goto=nextnewest

[Normspeed]

It's a little wordy. How about "Hot Rod Good. Mongo like Hot Rod".

[Tom Skinner]

Maybe Chip Foots, Or God knows maybe Walter Chrysler's Carl Breer.

[Fireball]

Jeffe Jamef is my bet

[Plymouthy Adams]

I'll go with Jay Leno..he has a gift of gab and slighly long winded...

[Brad Lustig]

Towards the bottom of the page I posted...

Post made by OldCarMike

"I'd have to define a street rod as almost purely a pleasure vehicle. Comfort, looks, fit and finish all enter into the picture. The asthetic of it is the reason for it. Sure they can be fast, but they exude a certain level of modern sensibility. Power window, A/C, stereos, and the assorted creature comforts contribute as much to the whole of it as does the body style, wheel, and the general look of it. The whole experience of a street rod is not so much about going fast as it is about appearing to be able to go fast. Sure, some of them are fast, but they keep that facet subdued behind glamour and gloss. Image is not everything but you'd be hard pressed to tell that if you're not educated about these things. The "gizmoness" (as Indian Larry used to say) of it is hidden, smoothed, secreted away behind covers and panels. They are sterilized versions of hot rods. They are the choice of the masses, the soft side of old cars.

Hot rods are brash, overt, and almost truculent at times. They are the chest thumping silver back gorillas of the asphalt jungle. Louder than the average car on the road, the hot rod spits its disdain for the ordinary means of transport out of its tail pipes in a cloud of too rich exhaust tinged with the faint odor of motor oil. Comfort is a luxury to be denied in the name of speed. A true hot rod percolates with a twitchiness when sitting still. Even in repose they are designed to look intimidating. Metallic musculature beneath a skin of primer and not so delicate welds. Scars if you will, that are worn like badges of honor, stating to all that the task of speed is not beholden to prudence. So a knuckle gets split open, a finger tip is smashed. Just like the mechanical beings they craft, the hands of the craftsman bear the scars of the experience.

That's what they're really all about: The Experience. The learning, the sweating and scrounging, the comradarie of the fellow afflicted. Dusk in the alley, acetylene light in the garage, and good friends laughing, swearing, and creating. Heat, steel, bolts, screw, wires, rubber, fuel, electricity, fire both from the torch and in the belly: these elements combine to create something greater than the sum of its parts. The experience of the creation, the something out of nothing propels us with an almost single minded purpose of speed first, glamour later. Speed and style do a delicate dance but speed always leads. Speed; we can smell it while we work, we can taste it in welding fumes; and see it in the distance. It's palpable and it courses through our veins. It's the total of the experience that we live for, not the locomotion of the device we seek. A car is a car, but a hot rod transcends ordinary transportation. It is who we are. We don't merely drive our hot rods. We are traveling companions who know each other well.

The hot rod is the essence of ourselves, a mechanical representation of the vicsceral soul. We are of the past, we live in the present, and we hope for the future. Despite changing fashions and styles, hot rods are constant. They are constant in that they are of us. We don't do this because we love it although we do love it dearly. We do it because we HAVE to. We are compelled by the fiber of our beings, by the gut of ourselves. It's our art, our passion, our lives. It is our very soul we invigorate when we drag home another derelict hulk. We bring the neglected past into our present with an eye on the future. And after all the work is done, and we ease it out into the street for a first drive, the machine is alive because our souls are alive as well. It's alive...alive... ALIVE HAHAHAHHAHHAH!!! Our souls are vibrating and singing along with the hum of the tire and the rasp of the exhaust. We are of the machine and the machine is of us. Inseperable as a 60 year old tapered axle and it's hub, the soul of the hot rodder and the soul of the machine.

The experience of hot rods cannot be explained substantially to those unfamilar. It cannot be shared with the unfeeling, it cannot be defined without prior knowledge. It's either a part of you or it isn't and nothing can change that. Such is the nature of the soul. Such is the way of the hot rod."

[Don Coatney]

Towards the bottom of the page I posted...B]"

Brad;

I think you missed the start of this. Should have started "Four score and seven years ago our hot rodders brought forth on this drag strip, a new generation, conceived in a Nash, and dedicated to the proposition that all small blocks are created equal"

[Jim Saraceno]

How truculent is it?