First off, let me introduce myself, I am K. Peddlar Bridges, Bikerpoet, Writer and now Autopoet Columnist.
I could tell you all about Motorcycle Columns I've written, Poetry Shows I've performed, and cable TV shows I've produced, but if you're reading this here, you're not interested in all that. What you and I most likely have in common is a love and interest in the automobile ... the Custom, The Hot Rod, The Street Rod or the Antique Ride to be more exact. But, whatever your choice of Iron is ... the soul of the matter still rides on wheels.
For myself, the roots of this love and interest go way back to the late Fifties. I bought my first Custom Car Magazine in 1958 or '59. I remember how proud I was to let my uncle Drover borrow it. I didn't have a car at the time ... I was ten or twelve ... but, I was working on it. My uncle Drover had a 47 Merc coupe, Robbins Egg Blue, nosed and decked, with fender skirts, a J. C. Whitney dressed ride.
In my school yard, my crowd didn't talk about football, baseball or movie stars; we talked about cars, custom cars and stock cars. Our icons had such names as George Barris, The King of Lead, Big Daddy Roth, The Wizard of Glass, Olli Silva, Russ Bradley, heroes of the local round and around stock car track.
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