It’s assumed that anyone prowling through these web pages is of an automotive interest, if they hail from the car-crazed Baby Boomer era? I will also assume that you, Dear Reader, will read the following and know what I write of. Of being able to comfortably recall those early 60’s of custom car shows, rod & custom magazines, model car kits and “Mad” style car-oriented comic books; Pappy Lemmons and his two idiot side-kicks could be seen in Hot Rod Cartoons, the Varmints always bedeviled Unk Kohler in CARToons.
You may also very well remember a man by the name of Edward “Big Daddy” Roth.
Yes, you remember those days just before the Beatles hit the radio air waves and “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” was a Top 40 smash. You as well as I knew of “Rat Fink”, “Mr. Gasser”, “Mother’s Worry”, “Outlaw”, “Beatnik Bandit”, “Mysterion”. These and many more were the creations of Ed Roth, it was difficult to have lived during this era without knowing of the formidable stamp he had left upon American Pop culture.
A wondrous, great man. Creative, resourceful, outrageously wacky, an innovative visionary. Blessed with the talents to pull it all together, and thrive in the niche he overwhelmingly helped to create. After all, Ed was an ARTIST! As most creative artists have a wonderful flair for showmanship, self-promotion was instinctively natural for Ed. But, as many artists have slid into the vortex of not being recognized for their talents, or preyed upon by predatory business interests? Not only did Ed possess an artist's eye & heart, but a business mind as well, he instinctively knew how to use those business gifts to his best advantage.
Ed Roth was my major guiding influence at an early age, and remained so until his untimely death. Ed was my inspiration, I wanted to BE like Ed, I’ve no doubts he was the ultimate reason I fell into the custom/collision racket in the first place.
Oh, but Ed did have his custom-car contemporary, another car designer and builder counterpart whom perhaps went on to have much more of a commercial success than Ed, that man was George “The King of Kustomizers” Barris. George was fond of dropping the hard “C” of all words that began with such a consonant and substituting the letter “K” in a pursuit to be hip-stylish, he also designed & promoted some might fine early customs. At shows, George always wore a snazzy dress suit and tie, which was a radial well groomed & button downed contrast to Ed’s sloppy T-shirt and blue jeans bohemian approach when making personal appearances. That is until Revell Models (whom Ed was under a business contract with at the time) nagged him to tighten up on his public image, company bitching that Ed overreacted to by wearing an elegant set of formal “Top Hat n’ Tails” outfit, complete with a haughty monocle, Ed STILL wiped paint all over his clothes when air-brushing T-shirts at shows!
For my young purposes, that was the crux of comparison between Ed and George. George was a hand-shaker, a deal maker who at the point of his career, had little to do with the actual fabrication of his show cars whereas Ed represented the rebel “outcast” fringe of American society, he still lent a physical hand towards building his own vehicles. George was corporate, Ed was content to do his own thing, sink or swim on his own merits, if other people liked what he made and how he acted? So much the better. Needless to say, anyone that knows me has little difficulty in knowing which car customizer and trend- setter I admired and wished to emulate…
I had always wished to meet my idol. Of course, I had seen him at his merchandise sales booth at car shows, but could never bring myself forward to actually doing it. I mean, for me? Such an act is akin to meeting a god, a magical being whom is superior to thou. And how does one act in the presence of a Supreme Being? I suppose acting proper & humble pretty much fits the occasion when meeting with bonafide celebrity kings and queens…
Many years ago in Chicago, I was bound and determined to meet Ed in person. There we were, Baby and I at the McCormick Exposition Hall, walkin’ the main exhibition floor, ogling the fine rides, and what do I finally see but the GREAT MAN HIMSELF! IN PERSON! Sitting inside of his T-shirt booth. There was a break in the activity, Ed wasn't particularly busy. Just sitting there on a stool, his chin cradled in his hand, elbow on the countertop, looking very bored.
"Is that the man you wanna meet?" quizzes Baby.
"eeeyup" I stammered.
With a mighty shove, Baby pushes me in Ed's direction. "Well, get over there and say HI!"
The intimidation factor immediately kicked in, the butterflies in my stomach rapidly multiplied. Yet my mind STEELED up for the Golden Moment! Gosh, I wanted to meet him so badly.....
Across the arena floor, with small, deliberate steps, I began to move in Ed's direction. Halfway there, so far so good. “Hey! I’m doing it!” I excitedly thought “I’m gonna actually MEET ED ROTH!!”
Then, all of a sudden, while Ed's eyes were roaming about, looking for new potential customers, they swiveled around and locked on ME!! YIKES....I hadn't COUNTED ON THAT!! Frozen in my steps by mental paralysis, I PANICKED. "Oh shit...I'm DOOMED!" my fearful mind shrieked, "I CAN'T DO THIS!! I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!!"
EEEEEEEEEK I turned on my heels, and was out of McCormick Place like a RIFLE SHOT ZOOM. Took a while for Wifey to find me shaking in the parking lot.....
I felt awful about that incident. I don’t know what came over me, I was terribly embarrassed. Who knows why I spooked & bolted? Perhaps in one’s mind when you’ve spent decades admiring a celebrity from afar, they take on a sort of “god-like” stature. As if a mere mortal such as I are not considered worthy enough to meet with them in person.
If he was watching, if he knew of my chickenshit reaction? Ed would probably think the whole incident was hilarious or miffed thinking he may have lost a T-shirt sale. But I vowed that, if such another opportunity came along? The next time I would not wastefully squander it.
That was then...
It was late in 1998, same rod & custom car show in Chicago, same Ed was going to be there. It was here that I was determined to fight off my silly shyness, to bravely meet with Ed no matter how geeky-looking I thought I looked, or how stupidly I might speak.
Coming up the escalator onto the main show-floor, there was Ed. Again, he wasn't particularly busy. Without wasting a second to dwell on my intimidation fears, I smartly strolled right up to Ed and introduced myself. I had conquered my fears, and met with my idol. The Happy Ending? I chatted with Ed, excitedly telling him of my admiration for him and his body of work.
And Ed? I'm sure many times he's heard this same admiration from his legion of fans. Still, to my great delight, I found Ed to be very 'approachable', friendly-personable, a marvelous wit, and refreshingly sincere.
Ed was sincerely INTERESTED in other people! At one point during the conversation, Ed spies my hands and quips. "Hey! Lemme see your hands!" I raise one of my mitts for him to inspect, Ed sees the cuts, scars, and bondo on my hands that refused to budge under a fingernail brush. "You're a bodyman, aren't you?!" Ed correctly remarks. "So what are you doing now?"
I tell Ed that I used to perform customizing and restorations on classic cars until no one had the money or the will to pay for such quality work. Then I segued into the collision field and did very well until insurers and unscrupulous shop owners began raping the collision techs, pretty much giving Ed of my opinion in a quick nutshell of the whole sad current state of affairs.
"Man, that's a shame" Ed agreed with a melancholy air. "Sounds like you're a fellow artist that's stuck in a profession that has no place for artists anymore".
"Yeah" I dejectedly offered. "I used to love this trade, but it's curtains for guys like me. I need to get out of it, and make a career move in another direction".
"Sure, it's tough for an artist to prosper in an increasingly business-oriented world" calms Ed. "But it can be done. Find and do something that allows you to tap into your creativity, and gets you very well paid for your talents!"
"Aww, Ed. Thank you for the comfort, but there's nothing out there. I've thought about it, and...."
"AH-HAH!!" playfully scolds Ed. *You* need to change your THINKING, son! The way you look at your surroundings! If you remember anything I've told you, realize and know that you can do ANYTHING if you put yourself into it! It's a mood thing. Get the mood, do what you need to do in order to get into something else you'll like, and then HUSTLE with it because that's what a good "Rat Fink" does!!"
I shoot Ed a jaundiced eye. He poignantly adds "And look at everything I've been able to accomplish!! I’m nothing special!! I did it because I WANTED to! I'm LIVING PROOF!" Hmmm, Ed did give me much more to think about, yes?
Take it from me, Ed was loving the renewed interest in “traditional” hot rodding and customizing now embraced by the underground Rod Kulture folks, he dug the idea of “Everything Old is New Again” to the young who were just discovering his impact on American Pop culture and diehard Old Schoolers alike.
Several minutes later a line of Roth fans had begun to queue up behind me. Time to let Ed go, for him to take care of business. After graciously posing with me for a few goofy & serious mutual camera mug-shots, with an admiring bus on his cheek, I said goodbye to the man I had long admired for all of these long decades, walked away with an even deeper sense of admiration and respect for Ed. Yes, he's that sort of heartwarming fellow.
Little did I know that Ed would pass on to Rat Fink Valhalla only weeks after our first, and now last meeting. Still......I was most fortunate to have been able to toss away my own personal fears, and to have met and conversed with the legendary Ed "Big Daddy" Roth before he left us.
Wacky Clown Prince of Custom & Rod Culture, Creator and Purveyor of Wonderful Underground and Mainstream Art, Showman Supreme...
...and a genuine, all-around regular good guy--
Plus c’mon, what seven year old boy back in 1963 didn’t dream of actually BEING one of Ed’s noisy larger than life creations, to really live the Ratfink lifestyle?
Boy, I sure did—
