Well, looks like another two weeks have passed, so here we go with another entry into “what the heck has Jack been up to?”  Well, let me tell you.....

I’m sure that I’ve rambled here sometime in the past few years about the honor of being asked to become a member of the “Throttle Merchants” car club. Founded way back in 1948, one of the original members actually went through the Frank Hawley Drag Racing School in one of my classes. Earl Gerard even let me drive his (and partner Charlie’s) dragster out in Tucson, not far from their homes in New Mexico. Anyway, Earl recommended me for honorary membership before he passed away, and I think it’s totally cool to be part of a club that has included some legendary drag racers. Members like Jeep and Ronnie Hampshire, Frank Huszar, Kent Fuller and many others make this a formidable club.

Me and 29 of my newest buddies. It was very cool to have Ivo, Muravez, Spider Razon and Bob Beck show up when I got inducted. Good thing I like purple!

In actuality (that means I’m not lying), the Merchants weren’t the only club that I claimed membership to. My father presided over the first meeting of a club known as “The Clockers” (no, they didn’t repair time pieces...it was a reference to being “clocked” with the timers at a dragstrip. Or maybe they were all hoodlums who beat people up, and my dad didn’t share that information with me). Yep, that meeting took place back in the ‘50’s in the basement of my grandparent’s home: 909 Louisiana Avenue in Cumberland, Maryland. Perhaps they felt obligated to have me become an honorary member.

Anyway...there I was, zipping through life, thinking that two clubs was the maximum allowable. Then, my old pal Eddie Salvatore calls. “Fast Eddie” (no relation) and I used to compete against each other back in the ‘80’s at LACR. Eddie now presides over one of the most prestigious clubs ever formed: The Road Kings. Tommy Ivo, Bob Muravez, Don Prudhomme, and Kenny Safford are amongst the alumni of this group. When Eddie asked if I’d be interested in becoming an honorary member, I was flabbergasted (that means I nearly peed myself). Now, I am proud to consider myself part of them.

There you have it; a Clocker, Merchant, and King...all rolled up into one handsome package. Yep, 185 pounds of solid steel and sex appeal. And do I have to remind you of the humility I possess? I though not.

Here’s the Miami local #71 Elevator guys partying with me in the pits at West Palm. Apparently they brought their own beer, AND their own John Force look-alike!

Here’s post-testing, with me, Tim, and Air-Force friend Mike celebrating out on the intercoastal with our favorite Captain (Morgan, that is).

My little buddy Joel celebrated another birthday (he’s a VERY special young man), and apparently he told his mom Regina that he wanted a clown on his cake. I may be the only fuel driver whose suit is louder than their car!

Birthdays” are only fun from about 3 years old to about 21. Here’s Layla celebrating # ½ by chowing-down on infant oatmeal...what a party!

The triplets with my single-fertilized egg next to the full-size version of their toys.

Here’s Brent and Staci (Layla’s Godparents), along with Jim and Ireta. I’m still squinting from staring at that firesuit too long!

Here’s Layla moments after a complicated transfer of oatmeal, from mouth to diaper. Jason is still happy to be a big brother; I just wish he could change her diapers!

I don’t know how many of you were following the preseason testing in Florida, but I was so happy our car ran the way it did. We made 16 runs over the 5 days we were there, and we genuinely were able to “test” (as opposed to just making laps and “practicing”). Not only did we have an entirely new chassis, but Rahn and John did some major reworking on the fuel system to get back to a combo that Rahn felt more comfortable with. Then we tested superchargers, clutch discs, and clutch levers. And, I’m happy to report that I contributed mightily, as I tested (successfully, I should add) brand new fireboots from Impact. I even got them on the correct feet (with the help of the “R” and “L” written on them.

I think that, after day three, there wasn’t anyone on our team that wasn’t confident enough to load up and head to Pomona. A cool thing about this test week was that Friday and Saturday were open to the public, and we made 2 side-by-side runs each day. Our 4.037 was a personal best, and we were the second quickest FC of the week, but none of that is worth a single NHRA point, so we’ll have to wait until the Winternationals to show how prepared we are.

I’m including a shot of my new firesuit so you can take a long look at it...it won’t look nearly that nice the first time I wear it in the car. If that’s not bad enough, the guys just texted me a photo of the back of our hauler, and there I am, 10 feet tall and looking like the love child of Elvis and Liberace. I can’t imagine being stuck behind that trailer in traffic.

Before testing, I flew out to Nashville for the O’Reilly Auto Parts convention. No, I wasn’t looking for a deal on Autolite Spark Plugs (but I did just get them a free plug), I was representing Valvoline (Along with teammate Antron Brown) and signing autographs for all the store managers nationwide.

Our little girl turned .5 on the 12th (we’ll just call it 6 months old to simplify). To celebrate, we fed her first solid food to her (awkward sentence). We’re now progressing one flavor at a time through the “stage 1” baby foods. She gets four straight days of one food, and if there are no rashes, irritability, excessive shopping, oily discharge, cursing in Greek, speeding on the turnpike, or voting Democratic, we move on to the next one.

Jason went to his first dental appointment. Dr. Chapple is a good buddy of mine, a car nut, and a damn fine drummer. His band played a few years ago in our hospitality after the Finals, and probably will do so again this year. Dr. Steve got Jenna all prettied up, then made sure all 20 of Jason’s teeth were pointing the right direction. At this time it does not appear that Layla needs any dental treatment, so that was good news (that’s a joke...she has no teeth...YET!).

Mom-in-law Cindy (who still has all her teeth) is selling her house in Fontana and just purchased a condo closer to us. We’ve been taking care of all the logistics of buying a new property, plus we now have to get her house in prime shape to list.

That was two days ago that I finished the last paragraph. Since then, we’ve been going hardcore at Cindy’s house, cleaning, painting, fixing and improving. I’ve even done a lot of “barking”. No, not the kind where you’re communicating with canines...I’m talking about distributing the mulch/bark all around the yard to make it look pretty. However, all that hard work did have me panting quite a bit. Get it...panting (that’s what dogs do in lieu of sweating...get it?).

Now that I’ve delayed my pre-procrastinated blog even further, allow me to wrap this up quickly. Other recent Beckman adventures have included:

Layla got to attend her first Monster Jam event in Anaheim. We also let Jason come along, and our neighbors Curtis and Shelly brought Grant, Nolan, and Jack (hereafter known collectively as “the triplets”). We went early and walked around the pit area to see the trucks and drivers close up. Jason cried when Grave Digger lost in the racing portion, but was elated when that truck won the freestyle competition. Man, is my little boy sensitive!

I got in my last surf session before the season starts. It was pretty chilly out there, and this is the first time I’ve felt that cold in quite a while. After drying off, I headed over and bought a new, thicker wetsuit. Dive N’ Surf in Redondo Beach has a yearly sale every February, and Saturday was my first opportunity to get over to pick up the suit I wanted. It seems like it must be a popular suit, because I bought the last one. I like to go with black and stay “low-key” (so people don’t make fun of me), but the only one left was blue and gray, so I suppose I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. Of course, with the way my new firesuit looks, it appears I’m trending that way.  Still, I saved $120, and this should last me another 3 years.

We had Layla “dedicated” last Sunday. You may be confused, thinking someone dedicated the Clapton song on the radio, but I’m referring to our little girl, and having Pastor Jim Willoughby perform her, well...dedication. See, now that I’ve explained it, we’re all crystal-clear (Even I don’t understand what I just said).

Lest I ramble for another five paragraphs, I think I should attempt to get all my photos captioned, spell-check everything, and get this sent over to Phil and Candida for a Monday posting.

Stay tuned, dress conservatively, keep your teeth clean, and dedicate Layla!
 

One of my favorite pics of all time, with two of my favorite legends...and they signed this one for me!

Any excuse to use the forklift will do, but race cars and rust simply don’t mix.

If this nitro driving thing doesn’t work out, perhaps I can find some work in a local paint and body shop.

Our trailers were some of the last to go out for shortening (that sounds odd), and when they came back I think the lettering on the sides read, “Aaro”!

We always have a $30 gift exchange at our Christmas party. With the way the economy has gone, and the government raising the debt ceiling and printing more currency, I just stuck $50 in an envelope and figured that’s about right!

The historic Mission Inn. Ronald and Nancy Reagan honeymooned here, but I doubt they got to see lights as cool as these. And, those bells!

Is that a Princess and a little companion that I see? Hey, is that gold dude the prototype for the Wally?

This is one of those “sliding pin” deals, where you can push on the back of the wall and “transfer” an image to the front. Jason sure can jump high, but clearly I forgot to adjust my “J” to be read correctly (I do get extra points for wearing my “Rain for Rent” Warren and Coburn shirt!).

Jason and his fellow demolition contractors just before blowing up a 60 foot high wall of earth and rock. The blast sight is down past the boys, about 1/4 mile away at the bottom of the quarry.

The water was so chilly I was tempted to put on my firesuit and helmet!

This may be classified as child abuse, keeping the young ‘uns up past midnight. By the looks on their faces, Jason and Layla need to lay off of the Jack Daniels!

Jason had a wheezing that necessitated using a nebulizer for several days. He wasn’t happy, so we told him it was part of his Jedi pilot training to fly an X-wing fighter.

Layla held down the pool table, Jenna wrapped presents, and those two guys in the background looked like they were having a toast.

I started typing this blog on the 11th, and it won’t be sent to Phil and Candida for posting for several more days, but I would be remiss if I didn’t comment about yet another big loss to our sport. Earlier today TC Lemons, one of the most colorful, entertaining (and THE best storyteller I have ever met) and enjoyable people ever to handle a torque wrench died in his small house located on the property of Garlits’ Drag Racing Museum. I am sure that Phil Burgess will do a fitting tribute to a man who I was fortunate enough to become friends with, so let me digress back into my regular blog. Godspeed, TC. It may not be freezing in hell, but you’ll show ‘em how to do fire burnouts in heaven!

I love my job, but it does have its drawbacks. Some of you may think I’m talking about all the travel, appearances, stress, time away from home, etc. I’m actually referring to the fact that it makes me do superfluous things in the off-season. I shall pause while you look up that word...

Yeah, I keep plenty busy once the Winternationals roll around, but there are certainly some “lulls” between the Pomona events that even raising two small children can’t quite fill. Hey, I’m not exactly laying on the couch all day watching History Channel (though that REALLY sounds appealing to me!), but without having a race car to keep me busy working, I’ve gotten into some projects that probably didn’t need my attention.

My Super Comp Blackbird is going up for sale, and don’t ask me why I decided to wait three years too long to act on this (though it has a lot to do with my wife thinking we should save it forever, and apparently she thought we’d have our own museum for storage by now). It’s tough to part with that car, but with two little ones and a busy travel schedule, I haven’t raced it in far too long and it’s becoming an eyesore (Jenna says the same about me: I just sit around and am an eyesore... but I’m not for sale!).

I noticed that the tongue of the trailer was really faded, and the Tuff-Tow (dolly wheels mounted on the tongue) assembly had started to show surface rust. Being as that I had LOTS of free time on my hands, I thought it prudent to remove the entire assembly, sand everything down, prime, and repaint. Did I mention that I was also able to include the forklift into this little project? Yeah, except for trying to “rattle-can” paint the tongue in a light wind, it actually was quite enjoyable. And, it looks bitchin’ now... makes me want to NOT sell it!

Some of the stickers on the trailer had faded to the point that they looked terrible, so out came the heat gun, razor blades, and elbow grease. (The razor blades are for slitting my wrists for starting this project.) While I was at it, I changed the oil on the generator. Yep, even my trailer runs Valvoline NextGen now!

I bought four tubes of that trick self-leveling caulk (that sounds kinda weird!) to use on the roof of the RV. Though we don’t have any leaks, experience from past units has taught me to be proactive. After a couple of hours with a scrub brush, putty knife, vacuum, blow-gun, and a copy of War and Peace, I was finished. I had purchased four tubes, thinking I would redo the entire roof, but it actually looked pretty nice up there, and I only used one tube. So, what does one do with three tubes of self-leveling caulk...?

Is it me, or does my trailer seem to be in need of a roof re-seal! Let’s see: gasket scraper, putty knife, wet towel, vacuum, compressed air, and three wire brush attachments ought to do the trick here! And, what do you know... it took exactly three tubes to redo the entire roof and vent. Man, do I feel good now.

Lest you think I frittered away (sounds like a line from a Pink Floyd song) my entire holiday season, I actually did pack some useful things into that time:

I flew back to our shop in Indy in mid-December to have a seat insert poured for our new chassis. Even though, technically, each DSR seat should be identical (thus being able to transfer the old seat insert into the new car), it probably wouldn’t be that easy. First, though Norm, Joe, and the entire fabrication staff are awesome, duplicating an aluminum shell is nearly impossible. Secondly, after several hundred runs, the used insert resembles an old pair of shoes (comfortable, but well-worn and in need of replacing). It was time for a fresh butt pad. I scheduled my trip so that I could attend the DSR Christmas party. Don always goes all-out to thank the entire staff, and he rented the ballroom at a downtown hotel and had some great catering brought in for all of us.

There’s no getting around how impressive our facility is, what with more than 100,000 square feet of building, loaded with the best nitro equipment money can buy, but something was very different this visit. Guys in the shop joked that it looked more like a flea market than a fuel shop, and I could see what they meant. Apparently (and this issue came to a serious head between the Vegas and Pomona races) most nitro teams had upgraded from 53’ to 56’ trailers several years ago. Without delving into each states DMV handbook (I can hardly read, anyway), it appears that only a handful of states allow the larger trailers, and California won’t even allow you to purchase a temporary permit (just ask Steve Torrence, who had to flatbed his trailer OUT of California and missed the Pomona race entirely) to enter into our beautiful, overly-liberal state. Long story short (bad pun), we had to have our entire fleet of 14 race trailers shortened 3’, and this was not a cheap proposition. Also, each trailer had to be completely emptied onto the shop floor prior to heading out to be shrunk, creating that aforementioned “flea-market” appearance. So... if anyone is in the market for a three-foot trailer, we have several of them and are willing to deal!

I finished servicing our motorhome, taking care of the Hydro-Hot, generator, and other regular maintenance. It’s still up for sale, but I don’t mind hanging on to it if no one is interested. It seems that people freak out at a unit with 105,000 miles, but for a diesel pusher that really is fairly low mileage. We’ve dropped the price from 110,000, which is just below the NADA value, down to 89,500. It will be up on eBay for several more days if anyone is interested, or you can get hold of Jenna: jennabeckman@att.net. Just don’t tell her you want to trade for landscape services... she might just do it!

We hosted our annual Christmas party and had about 40 friends come and spend an evening at the Chateau du Beckman. This year Tom Bayer beat Jenna in the final of the reaction time challenge. Jeff Arend and I complained that we don’t use our thumbs to launch REAL race cars, but those gripes fell on deaf ears.

We headed over to the Mission Inn in Riverside to see their Christmas Festival of Lights, which looked to me like a bunch of lights strung across a hotel... but I digress; the Inn dates back to the late 1800s, and has a tremendous amount of history. 10 Presidents have visited, and Nixon was married there. They have an impressive collection of bells (if you’re into that sort of thing), with one dating back to 1274! Einstein, Pulitzer, Rockefeller, Carnegie, Henry Ford, and Helen Keller have all seen the Inn (well, technically I guess Helen didn’t see it).

We headed over to the Discovery Museum in Santa Ana to check out their Star Wars display, as Jason’s world revolves around all things Skywalker lately. They had many of the actual props from the original movies there, and my little Jedi dug it.

Jason and I accompanied my friend Randy Sullivan, who runs an earth-moving business (that really sounds like a fancy term for DIRT moving, as only gravity seems to be able to actually move the EARTH...and I digress yet again).

Randy got us on site to witness some serious ground excavation, as in the type done with high explosives. I’ve seen plenty of this sort of thing on the learning channels, but to witness and feel the ground move under your feet was really cool, and I think I’m signing up for the next big bang!

I bought one of those bitchin’ Go-Pro cameras at Costco (a warehouse discount store with fantastic prices). I’d been wanting to get one for surfing, but once I saw the $139 price tag, I couldn’t pass it up. The video it takes is spectacular, but I don’t know how to pull a still image from video. You can set it to take photos, but with this unit the quickest it will snap is one picture every two seconds, which is nearly useless for surfing, where the average ride only lasts about 5 seconds. Still, I tried the photo mode on one outing and got a couple of decent shots.

I’ve been able to go out and hit the surf 4 times in the past month, including two days in a row when Jenna was sick of me and banished me to the beach. It’s tough to realize that I’m not nearly in the shape that I’m used to being in, and I hadn’t touched a weight for nearly 3 months. I had done some tendon damage to my right forearm about a year and a half ago, and it’s been aggravating me on occasion. As we got towards the end of the year, I didn’t want to stress the arm too much and affect my driving, so I just laid off working out. Unfortunately, even holding my daughter tends to cause some pain, so I went in and got X-rays and an MRI. With our insurance plan, writing that co-pay check for $536 hurt more than my arm! Still, I need to get this handled so I can get back to working out regularly, and I want to be able to throw a baseball with Jason.

We celebrated Jenna’s 33rd birthday (I know, she’s WAY too old for me... but she’s such a great organizer that I’ll keep her around) and the last day of 2011, and we showed the world what true party animals the Beckmans really are. Brent and Staci Cannon hung out until about 11:30, then Cindy and the family watched Dick Clark (c’mon, Dick.... enough with the spray tan!) drop his ball on Times Square. Weird, I can still remember when I was about 10, listening to my mother talk about the year 2000, telling me that I would be 33 years old when it arrived. I couldn’t even imagine being that age, and now I’m married to a gal who is... and she’s a lot younger than me... ouch.

Next time you hear from me, we will have done our 2012 testing out in Florida. You’ll also have heard what’s new for this season, not just for our team, but for all the nitro drivers. I still am amazed that Larry Dixon won’t be behind the wheel of a dragster (so far as we know). Fickle sport.

Stay tuned, keep your roof sealed, may the force be with you, and just say “NO” to Obama-Care!

With the exception of the missing cowboy hat, this is how many of you would remember Bruce.

Bruce looks like a Mr. Potato Head...you could choose hair, no hair, big mustache, little mustache, cop glasses, etc.

Our friend’s final resting place, and a fitting sendoff for a helluva man!

I want to die just like my grandfather did...peacefully, in his sleep. However, as his car drove over the cliff, the other four people riding in it were not so fortunate!

Sorry, but I think that’s a funny joke. On a serious note, have you ever thought about how you would prefer to die? That may sound like a ludicrous question, but every one of us eventually will expire, and wouldn’t it be cool if we had the choice of HOW we went?

Imagine somehow being able to know that you had a year, six months, or 60 days to live. What would you do? Who would you visit? Where would you travel to? I hear that question bantered around often, and people understandably answer it in (what I think is) a cavalier manner. The assumption always seems to be that you will be in good health until the day you die (I’m imagining a car accident or a sudden heart attack). For so many people, though, the last days, weeks, and even months are spent as an invalid, unable to really “live”. For my mother JoAnne, she was bedridden the better part of three months. For my friend Bruce, he was in a seven-week downhill slide.

Having just attended Bruce’s funeral, I think it’s natural to have thoughts like that. Many say that Scott Kalitta died doing what he loved, but I couldn’t imagine the pain something like that would cause to one’s family. If I’m going to die doing the thing I love most, I will definitely be asleep... I just hope it’s years down the road.

Having gone through the amount of chemotherapy that I did, I realize that my system, specifically my heart, will never be as healthy as before I got cancer. If you ask any person who has never faced serious health issues what the most important thing to them is, chances are that “health” will be far down on their list...it’s simply never given them a cause for concern, or much thought. Ask someone dealing with an acute or chronic illness to list their priorities, and I guarantee that “health” will be at the top of that list. It’s a matter of personal experience, and now I get it.

Bruce was 69 years old, but I would bet money that anyone trying to guess his age never would have gone higher than 57. He took good care of himself, and he looked healthy. About two months before he died, Bruce passed out while driving on the freeway. Fortunately, his buddy in the passenger seat was able to get the car stopped without an accident. Bruce and I spoke many times while the doctors ran tests to figure out what caused his seizure, and the eventual diagnosis of brain cancer was a huge shock. I visited Bruce just after he started his treatments, and he eventually was sent back home for what we all hoped was a speedy recovery. His sudden death came as a surprise to many of us.

Bruce goes WAY back in drag racing...to the early ‘60s. He saw this sport from so many different angles: painter, crewman, driver, announcer, and friend to so many. I know Bruce didn’t go out the way he wanted, or planned, but the solace that we friends of his can take is that he packed a LOT into his life. As is typical of funerals, I actually found out a couple of things about Bruce that I didn’t know; he never told me that during his tenure as a cop that he was undercover as a narcotics officer.

Though he never married or had kids, he had plenty of “adopted” children that were there to help support him in the end. His funeral was roughly half racers and half “normal people”, and the salute he was given by the Hawthorne police department was incredible. Bruce hung up his badge back in the ‘80s (and went on to become a financial advisor), and watching the cops fold the flag that draped his coffin and present it to one of his close friends was very moving.

I haven’t written a blog for several weeks, and I just haven’t felt “motivated” enough to sit at the keyboard for an hour plus, and I think I just figured out why; I’m going to close this blog, keep it as a tribute to a great friend of the sport and a wonderful man who we will all miss dearly, and start another entry that will represent a more “standard” blog for me.

Stay tuned, stay healthy, God Bless Bruce, and watch out for Narcs!

I hate gossip...always have. I try not to spread it, and I do my best to avoid receiving it. In the interest of full disclosure, I certainly am guilty of speaking about people when I shouldn’t, and also of spreading rumors without substantiating them. So, I shall plead guilty of a small level of hypocrisy, but I do try and make an effort to maintain as much dignity and objectivity as I can.

Why all the hubbub, you ask? Well, this time of year the NHRA is rampant with gossip, rumors, and crazy stories. Some of these actually turn out to be true (who would have thought that Del and Larry Dixon BOTH would be gone from Al-Anabi at the end of this season?), which seems to feed the fire for the ones that are completely without substance. I heard from no less than a dozen people that I was to be driving for Jim Dunn next year... not true. Jon Dunn actually lives within a half-mile of us, and he and I both were amazed at how far that rumor had spread.

Anyway, after all the uncertainty with our team leading into 2011, I eschew any rumors about us. It appears that everything is status-quo (I think that means, “hunky-dory”) with our crew, sponsors, and driver for next year, and I think no news is good news as far as that goes.

Another rumor I’ve heard is that drivers don’t do anything in the off-season. Some folks think we’re part bear, and that we fatten-up for the holidays, and then hibernate until pre-season testing rolls around.

The ladder/truck/stapler combo will set you back about a grand, but it comes in real handy around the holidays!

While Jason supervised and made sure our Little Giant Ladder was sturdy enough, I had the honor of installing the star.

Speaking of star, ours took time out to check his stock portfolio once the tree was decorated. He and Jenna are thoroughly enjoying the expensive new recliner chairs. I’m relegated to sitting on a milk crate with an old pillow for cushioning!

Hey, 21st kid from the left (5th from the right for those of you who don’t like to count double-digits).

A couple of things that I didn’t remember about Judy Thompson (who basically helped run Lions for the first 7 years): One, I wasn’t aware that she was so tall, and two, that’s some fancy Joe Amato hat she’s wearing!

Larry Sutton started ‘em, and John Ewald shot ‘em (including that sequence of Garlits cutting Swamp Rat 13 in half in the background).

Dennis Swearingen, Brent Cannon, Steve Gibbs, John Rasmussen, and Don Long surrounding the only guy there that never got to go to Lion’s!

Courtney Force and I compared signatures... and teeth. She was better on both counts! Shouldn’t I get huge bonus points for getting a Valvoline shirt into the Force headquarters?

Two very remarkable people that I would never have met without being a part of BRAKES. Nathaniel and his mom Annette underscore how powerful a parent’s love can be.

Though I doubt if I’ll be nominated for the “Hardest-working Man of 2011” award, I have tried to keep as busy as possible (unless the wind is over 25 mph and the outside temperature falls below 58 degrees... then all bets are off, and I’m on the couch watching History Channel!).

No, contrary to rumors of my laziness (many of which I have perpetuated upon myself), I think I have managed to squeeze nearly a week’s worth of work into the past month (yep, that’s exactly the way I intended to write it). Consider the following examples:

My trusty Nissan has been noisier than usual. Though it would be tough to hear with the radio on (only the passenger side speaker still works, so I really have to crank it up to listen to talk radio), and even tougher to hear once you get past 50 mph and the wind noise takes over, there was something amiss in the steering wheel. If you read this blog, you know that I can fix anything (And I can sing, dance, and juggle. It’s my story; I can embellish all I want). Anyway, what would be the harm in removing the steering wheel, just to take a peek? Of course, I always start my outdoor mechanical projects around dusk, so I got to hold a flashlight in my mouth for most of the disassembly. Seems the genius engineers at Nissan didn’t want just any idiot removing their airbags (and I’m not just ANY idiot!), so they installed tamper-proof Torx fittings to retain it. Now I was faced with a true dilemma: Spend 17 bucks or just deal with the clunking sound every time the steering wheel was rotated. So, after a trip to the local NAPA store, I am now the proud owner of a new set of Torx bits. Off came the airbag, and the problem was immediately obvious... sort of. There is a 10-ounce chunk (I weighed it!) of cast iron that apparently was rubber vulcanized to the inside of the steering wheel. Over the course of 249,000 miles, and bumping into several objects, pulling out tree stumps, and general misuse, mine is now un-vulcanized. My guess is that Nissan must have used it as a cheap solution to a vibration problem. Well, my truck has prepared me well for driving a fuel Funny Car, as anything past 60 mph results in, shall we say, a “less than Cadillac-like ride.” My choices seemed to be easy: epoxy this thing back in and hope it holds, or remove it and crank up the stereo. Just in case the ride quality deteriorates, I’ve equipped the glove compartment with Advil, Ben Gay, Dry Ice, and Ace Bandages.

Silly to repair such a vehicle, you say? Perhaps, but just days later my Little Red Dragon proved the perfect work platform for my newest toy: the Little Giant Ladder. Yes, I thought I had purchased the ultimate ascending device, something that would revolutionize my work around (and on top of) the house. I suppose I should have taken some simple measurements before allowing myself to become so smug, as even my 19’ wonder doesn’t get you close enough to the top of the house to staple up Christmas lights. Once I placed the ladder in the bed of the Nissan, I was now 2 feet closer to my goals! Long story short... I need a longer ladder, a taller truck, or the ability to drive the forklift up into the bed of the Nissan, then put the ladder on it. Ooh...that gives me an idea!

Yeah, once I realized there was NO way of reaching to the top peak of the second floor from the ladder, I thought I could get up on the first floor roof, pull the ladder up onto it, lay it across the gabled portion of the second floor peak, climb up on top of that roof, then lean over and staple the lights underneath me. It sounded perfectly feasible, and I made a couple of attempts. Apparently I either had a sudden dose of common sense, or I just plain ran out of testosterone about 3 feet from my goal. That’s why our home does NOT have lights at the highest peak, and that’s no rumor!

While in the Yuletide mood, we headed over to pick up our Christmas tree. I must say, I hardly noticed any vibration in the pickup while hauling the tree home! Jenna thought I should have the folks at the tree lot cut the bottom of the trunk square, but I pooh-poohed that idea. I’m a MAN, I have a chainsaw, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to show my son how we do things at the Beckman household! So... after about 30 seconds of trying, I realized the blade on my saw was history. No worries, as I have a spare... which was just as dull. About 3 minutes into cutting the tree with a handsaw, I was thinking that Jenna’s idea sounded pretty good. Let’s not tell her.

Jason and I got up before 6 a.m. on the 10th. No, we weren’t heading out to IHOP for an all-you-can-eat pancake buffet... this was even more special. We got to see the last lunar eclipse until 2014 (and, if you believe that the world will end on 12/21/12, like the Mayans predicted, then this WAS the last one).

Speaking of Jason, our little man got back his first set of school photos. He looks so handsome, and I’m so happy. Growing up with severe eye allergies, I don’t think I ever took a school photo where I didn’t look like an idiot.

On a cold December evening, our little boy also did his first school performance, singing in the Norco parade with his Wee People class. It was very adorable...and it was very cold!

I was able to attend the Lion’s Dragstrip reunion, held at the NHRA Museum. Brent Cannon and I headed over to partake in the tales, hang with the legends, and have a great evening. I unfortunately never attended the fabled track, as it closed nearly a year before I witnessed my first race at OCIR. However, listening to Judy Thompson (then-wife of Mickey, who opened the track in 1955), Tom McEwen (who probably made more runs in a supercharged car there than anyone else), Tommy Ivo, and Bill Bagshaw (who, along with McEwen and Carl Olson, was a Pro winner at the Last Race on December 2, 1972) regale the audience with stories was nearly as good. Larry Sutton, who flipped the starting line switch at so many events, especially at Lion’s, may have had the best recollection of any of the panelists... and he had some fantastic stories!

Just looking around the room was awe-inspiring. Art Chrisman, Dode Martin, Jimmy Scott (who won Competition Eliminator at the Last Race), Don Prudhomme, Bob Muravez, Roland Leong, Linda Vaughn and dozens of others made this a day to remember. Next year will be the 40th anniversary of the closing, and I hope there will be an even bigger gathering to commemorate it. It was really cool seeing my Uncle John there. He’s been attending races since 1964, when he went to San Fernando Raceway (manager Harry Hibler was also in the room), and he’s the one who got me hooked.

I once again had the honor of signing at the John Force Toys-For-Tots Holiday Car Show. John continues to do so much for this sport, and I’m just thrilled that he has included me in so many special moments. They absolutely pack that area, and I heard they were WAY into the hundreds in car-count for the show, plus thousands of fans.

I headed over to Pomona to speak at the BRAKES (Be Responsible and Keep Everyone Safe.... Doug Herbert’s remarkable driver-education program for teens) driving school, and met some fantastic people. Tom Compton, president of the NHRA, had enrolled his youngest daughter... that’s how highly respected this course truly is. After I spoke at the end of the first of two classes, I listened to Annette and Nathaniel Young recount what happened to ‘Nat’ back in 1998. He was a passenger (16 years old), driving with his three buddies down the freeway. When the driver lost control at a high speed (no alcohol was involved), the car ran off the road, flipped, and landed on its roof. The other three young men lost their lives, and Nat spent months learning how to talk, eat, walk, and go to the bathroom all over again. Now 29, he still shows the remains of the night that nearly ended his life... all because of one bad decision. Doug’s program (Both Jon and James Herbert died in a very similar accident to Nathaniel’s) is aimed at saving families this type of heartbreak, through a very rigorous driving course that benefits all who attend. I am such a huge supporter of BRAKES, and please consider becoming a sponsor (ALL classes are driven by donations). Listening to a mother tell the painful story of the night she almost lost her son, then having to basically re-raise him like an infant... that was very impactful.

After speaking about something like that, I feel a bit guilty for complaining about events around our house of late, but we have suffered through some trying times. Yes, the Beckmans have been without a dishwasher for the better part of a week! I know, you’re probably wondering how we even managed to go on, but somehow we found the strength. Fortunately I was able to fall back on my teenage skills of manual-dishwashing (come to think of it, why the hell do we even have a dishwasher; we always scrub everything before loading into it anyway!), and Jenna and I rallied together to persevere through this most difficult of times. Seems our little GE warrior had been smelling funny lately, so we ordered another heating coil for it (if that doesn’t fix it, I’ll see if there’s a loose 10-ounce weight floating around somewhere).

Apparently Jenna and I jumped to an unreasonable conclusion when we ordered the part online. See, we assumed that, when the place told us the part was “in stock,” and would ship the next day, that that meant it would ship the next day. Silly us! What we should have assumed is that they meant the part was in stock “somewhere,” and that it would ship on the day that they decided to ship it. Anyway, what doesn’t tear a marriage apart only makes it stronger, and I think Jenna would agree with me that this potential calamity has just made our bond that much stronger. Plus, all that Palmolive has made my hands much softer! (That joke is for those over 40).

Today we headed over to the Bass Pro Shops to get our Santa pictures taken. Doesn’t that sound kind of weird: “Santa pics at Bass Pro Shop”? Well, it was Layla’s first time, and Santa was kind enough to endure long enough to snap a few shots for our scrapbook. I told Santa that I wanted a rubber-vulcanizing kit to fix my pickup steering wheel, and a four-foot extension for my ladder!

Time for me to sign off. Tomorrow I fly back to Indy to have a seat insert made for our new chassis. Fortunately, this trip will also allow me to attend the annual DSR Christmas party, where I’ll have the chance to hang out with my guys AND all the shop people who support all seven teams (and never get enough praise). I just hope they don’t expect me to dance. Or sing. Or buy drinks!

Stay tuned, quite gossiping, be safe on your ladder, smile for Santa, and support BRAKES!