Featuring expensive suits, slicked back hair, martinis and land yacht lifestyles; HBO’s “Mad Men” portrayed the man’s world of  Madison Avenue with a decidedly mid-20^th century Gentleman’s Quarterly persona.

Far afield of HBO’s take on advertising’s Mad Men resided an accomplished, respected and loosely affiliated band of Madison Avenue road warriors. Self-assured, self-deprecating and self-named they were the “Sons of Danger.”

Sons of Danger – Mad Men on wheels

Sons Of Danger enroute to Laconia, NH Motorcycle Week 1984

“Sons of Danger” as a group could only have been born in the halcyon days of the later 20^th century when automobile accounts pumped excitement and money into advertising agencies and magazines. Populated with automobile and motorcycle racing champions, automotive industry leaders, creative minds from advertising and publishing and gifted free spirits, the “Sons of Danger” roster boasted a selective coast to coast who’s who of fun loving motorheads. Those who belonged included cultural icons such as Malcolm Forbes; Paul Newman; Olympian Bart Conner; writers Brock Yates, P. J. O’Rourke and David E. Davis; champion drivers Dan Gurney, Kenny Bernstein, Don Garlits, Tom Sneva, Sam Hanks and Steve “Yogi” Behr; and Corvette designer Larry Shinoda. The list goes on. Membership could not be requested. It could only be offered.

Milt Gravatt on a Malcolm Forbes ride

A mid-1970s brainchild that sprang from the fertile minds of Volvo Advertising Manager Milt Gravatt, Petersen Publishing Account Executive Charlie Alexander and Chuck Riley of Young & Rubicam, “Sons of Danger” was envisioned as a loose affiliation of men of similar character sharing a common interest in all motorized vehicles that moved fast. It also afforded a relatively anonymous and spirited way to bleed off the stress accompanying the demands of leadership, creativity on demand and/or celebrity.

Other than unscheduled, informal and randomly attended gatherings at Brews, an East Side NYC pub, now long gone, members solely assembled when personally drawn by the magnetic pull of a motoring event of interest. Events spanned a wide spectrum from the down and dirty to the simply splendid.

Malcolm Forbes ride participants at Forbes Building

As a billionaire, “good guy” and “Sons of Danger” member, Malcolm Forbes would stage an annual motorcycle ride. “Sons of Danger” members and others would be invited to Forbes’ New Jersey estate. There, over 40 or more immaculate and gassed-up motorcycles, mostly Harleys, sat in a stable ready for anyone without a ride to use. Along the way to NYC and the Forbes Building the group of maybe 70 riders would stop for lunch and to refuel with Forbes picking up the whole tab. Accompanying the riders, Forbes’ man in charge of motorcycles would pay the Holland Tunnel toll in advance for everyone. Aside from basic driving safety only one rule held sway at a Forbes event. If you used it as an opportunity to pitch a business deal you were never invited back.

Motorcycle events always exerted a powerful draw with Laconia Motorcycle Week being a favorite. With the “Sons of Danger” ranks brimming with accomplished riders, the spectacle and competition of the Laconia races proved irresistible. Laconia rides also afforded a possible window into the underlying wisdom of creating the “Sons of Danger” as a personal bonding vehicle for members of companies, agencies and publications with significant and interrelated budgets.

One member recalls a specific event when the flood of bikes enroute to Laconia stopped for a lunchtime refueling. A white panel truck that had been trailing the riders pulled up and set up tables just like the lunchtime craft services trucks that feed the crew on a movie set. “Want a soda, a beer, a tasty sandwich,” the caterer inquired? Great, thought the hungry and thankful rider. Curious, he asked one of those arranging the ride, “Who’s paying for this?” A response, both succinct and blunt shot back, “That’s a question you never ask. Never ask where did this come from or who’s paying for this. Got it?” Just eat up and shut up.”

Early on, one of the ride leaders had researched a newly built condominium near downtown Laconia overlooking Lake Winnipesaukee. It would become ground zero for the “Sons of Danger” on all subsequent Laconia trips. Returning from town for supper, riders found a steak fry and corn roast sponsored by Petersen Publishing. Word got out and Petersen’s fed a group ranging from Hell’s Angels to the cops patrolling the town. A tradition was born.

Lime Rock Park also drew “Sons of Danger” members in significant numbers. Contributing to its drawing power was having the manager of Lime Rock a member of the group. So, in addition to offering a great motorsports venue, Lime Rock had a beautiful chateau right at the top of the hill by Big Bend. Funded by Petersen Publishing it catered to the group. On any race day one might find Paul Newman, a great driver, and wife Joanne Woodward resting peacefully and undisturbed on the grassy hill. Inside would be any number and array of “Sons of Danger” members either watching or taking a break from racing.

Motoball in action

When it came to down and dirty, nothing surpassed the Motoball competition hosted by the Muddy Boot Gang of Orange County, NY in the 1980s. Conceived and run by Peter Hewitt a respected automotive industry technical expert, it called for playing soccer with dirt bikes. “Sons of Danger” and Muddy Boot Gang member Galen Royer, the National Technical Training Manager for Volvo, had no trouble finding riders to put a “Sons of Danger” stamp on the event. While some outsiders may view Motoball as a cry for help, participants to a man considered it enormous fun.

As the new millennium approached, the “Sons of Danger” as an active body began to leak vigor and steadily dissipated into gone-ness. Charlie Alexander passed away around 1999. Milt had retired from Volvo years back. People no longer attended events. Guys who had been boaters went back to their boats. Lingering members awoke to the strains of an Allman Brothers song, “Nobody left to run with anymore.”

Mitch Duncan with Sons of Danger members Galen Royer and Gary Mahannah on road to Laconia Motorcycle Week

Though gone, for some, “Sons of Danger” clearly was not forgotten. Around 2017 Mitch Duncan a retired Volvo lifer and a serious car guy and competitive motorcycle rider was dying of cancer. He knew his time fast approached. In speaking with his wife Diane he confessed that in his life he had but one regret. Though he had often ridden with the “Sons of Danger,” he had never been inducted as a member. While the ranks of living members had dwindled, Diane reached out to “Sons of Danger” member and still active rider Galen Royer. Was it possible, she asked, for Galen to do anything to address her husband’s sole regret? Galen could not believe such a deserving candidate had been overlooked.

Galen reached out to remaining “Sons of Danger” members Bruce Olds and Ron Morgan. Together they committed to assembling a membership package worthy of the moment. They succeeded. Galen inducted Mitch on his deathbed. Mitch was gone in a week. Diane had Mitch laid out in his Harley clothes and leather vest with his “Sons of Danger” member shirt close by.

In researching this article I met with Galen Royer and his son-in-law Joe Lopane at Galen’s home. Joe Lopane stands as the last active “Sons of Danger” member to be inducted. Joe had brought his two sons over to see my restored 1961 Corvette and to talk with Galen, their grandfather, about cars and dirt biking. Doors shut. Doors open. Old “Sons” fade. New “Sons” are born.

A few years back I had been asked to judge at a local Concours d’Elegance. I envisioned strolling across lovely grounds viewing a field of beautiful cars. What fun! My judging assignment included an aircooled class comprised primarily of Volkswagens. More fun!

Judging criteria for this concours would employ “French Rules.” Compared to the judging at marquee club events (Porsche Club, Corvette Club) where the wrong oil breather cap can hurt your score, French Rules lean more on aesthetics.

With French Rules, visual impact more than technical authenticity holds sway. Additional attributes that merit judgments of worthiness include a car’s condition, authenticity, originality, quality of restoration, rarity, and historical importance. Basically French Rules creates a personal opinion beauty contest with the benefit of a few qualifiers to assist judges in thin slicing degrees of excellence to substantiate the choice of a winning car. I had no idea that I was about to face the challenge of thin slicing with a scalpel.

My partnering judge and I approached our subject cars and immediately recognized the challenge. With late 1950s being the newest model year, a splendid array of highly desirable VW Beetles awaited our scrutiny. It could only be compared to judging a beauty contest with the five finalists being striking identical quintuplets.

Each of the five VW Beetles enjoyed exquisite restorations featuring superb aesthetics clearly executed with an artist’s eye. All five Beetles showcased the craftsmanship of the same man. His name? Chris Vallone.

VW bug restoration is no joke. Ask Jerry Seinfeld

Being an accomplished independent film maker with a background in cartooning and fine art seems an unlikely route to becoming recognized world over for producing mechanically superior and aesthetically refined Volkswagen Beetle restorations.

“I was living my dream,” says Chris Vallone, founder of Classic VW Bugs, Inc. in Congers New York. For ten years after earning his degree, Chris wrote, directed, shot, produced and edited his own independent films. “Action films, horror films, that sort of thing,” says Chris. He achieved a degree of success with one of his films being picked up for distribution internationally. However, recognition does not necessarily equate to financial success.

Chris and father with award winning 1952 split window

In the background during the decade dedicated to advancing his career in film making, Chris enjoyed a hobby defined by maintaining his 1968 Volkswagen. “Honestly, I loved the image of the artist throwing his gear in his VW bug and pursuing his passion,” says Chris.

In life as in a good film, inflection points occur that force a dramatic change in the action. Chris’s life plot took a major turn when the monetary demands of distributing a film exceeded his financial reach. Translation, Chris found himself broke and in debt. “The whole starving artist thing,” says Chris.

“I realized that my Hollywood aspirations should be pushed to a back burner,” Says Chris. Actually Chris pushed the Hollywood idea right off the stove. “As I approached my late 20s, I realized that I needed to get serious about making a decent living to survive,” says Chris. Step one called for eliminating my debts.

Chris’s hobby came to the rescue. He would sell the 1968 VW he had restored. He used his filmmaking skills to showcase the Bug on eBay. This happened way before video became a staple on Bring-a-Trailer.com auctions. It was way before BaT existed.

His VW quickly sold to a buyer from Cincinnati, Ohio. Chris says, “This floored me because I grew up in a world where everything happened locally. What an eye opener for me.” This was around 2003.

AFTER – 1956 Ragtop

BEFORE -1956 Ragtop

Chris’s father, Chris Vallone senior, saw an opportunity saying “We got something here.” And indeed they did. Chris senior had decades as an experienced mechanic. Chris junior possessed an artist’s eye for visual interior and exterior executions. Their blended talents would combine to impart a unique and striking signature look to their future creations.

Working out of their home’s one-car garage, they would first rebuild a VW Bug to use and then sell it. However, within a year Chris decided to buy a Beetle with the sole intent of restoring and flipping it. Son and father went all in. With the VW Bug completed, Chris created a full blown sales video with music, titles and effects and posted it on eBay.

Incredulously Chris says, “We had people come to our house, knock on the door and ask us to end the auction saying “I want to buy it now.” Time for another inflection point.

In a move of profound significance, Chris redirected his marketing media skills to a new platform, YouTube. He now employed his talents to fully orchestrate traditional and social media platforms. That’s when it happened. People began calling. Interested customers no longer wanted to bid on a VW Bug Chris put up for auction. They wanted Chris to build one just for them. Chris says, “I never ever thought of doing that.”

Classic VW Bugs facility

Chris pivoted his business to embrace the custom Build-a-Bug philosophy. Classic VW Bugs, Inc. was born. Chris had discovered a niche within a niche populated with people in their fifties to seventies possessing the money to have their VW Bug professionally restored with a visual character attuned to their tastes.

Clearly, having outgrown the garage, son and father took a deep breath, swallowed their trepidations and leased a significantly larger commercial space. Game on.

Despite launching Classic VW Bugs at the dawn of the Financial Crisis, Chris has never looked back. Counter intuitively, as the stock market collapsed, his business grew. Chris explains this saying, “People buying our cars were primarily investors or collectors who wanted to add to their collection. They viewed our restored VW Bugs as an appreciating asset.”

While the sweet spot of the buyer demographic presently rests in the fifty to seventy age range, Chris has witnessed a surge of interest by those in their thirties and forties.

Chris sees this trend inspired by a motivation quite different from say the muscle car or resto-mod markets. He says, “To a significant degree it is nostalgia driven.” Chris senior says, “People’s youthful personal experiences wove the Beetle into the fabric of their soul. It remains there today.”

When asked about the pivotal moment when Chris realized that Classic VW Bugs, Inc. had arrived as a presence in the international Beetle restoration community, he did not hesitate. “When Jerry Seinfeld walked through the door,” says Chris.

About seven or eight years ago, Chris answered a call from a guy introducing himself as Jerry Seinfeld. He wanted to discuss a prospective Beetle restoration. Chris’s initial response was, “Yeh right, who is this?” However, as a big Seinfeld fan, Chris recognized the caller’s intonation. Seinfeld brought a 1956 Beetle requiring significant work to Chris’s shop and hung out for a while to discuss the project.

After taking delivery of the completed Beetle, Chris did not hear from Seinfeld again until this past summer when a clearly satisfied Seinfeld brought another Beetle to Chris’s shop. Chris took the opportunity to ask Seinfeld how he found Classic VW Bugs. Chris says, “Sure enough it was YouTube.”

Chris has posted over 600 videos on YouTube. Every one laser focused on Beetle restoration. He gets over a million hits a month. At times Chris senior will ask his son why he works so hard posting on YouTube. Chris says, “Google searching is the key. I truly believe that if I didn’t do the videos, we wouldn’t have the work.” Twenty percent of Classic VW Bugs business is international, the rest comes primarily from the south and west.” Very little is local.

As the interview approached its conclusion, I called attention to a weathered black VW Bug convertible off on the side that appeared more well used than abused. Chris responded with a look of un-reconciled indecision. Clearly this Bug had a story.

Chris explained, ”It is a 1954 one-owner, all original, numbers matching rare gem. No accidents. Everything lines up perfectly.” Roughly 900 new 1954 Beetles were sold in the U.S. market. Only a few were convertibles.

About five years ago Chris got a call from the son of the original owner. He told Chris that he wanted to sell it, but only wanted it to go to a good home. Chris bought it and has wrestled with its fate ever since. Chris says, “I want to restore it and bring it back to its glory.” But then Chris recognizes that it enjoys a glorious patina and is fundamentally sound enough that, with a little structural work, it can be cleaned up and driven as an original. Chris says that he has always wanted a survivor.

What do you think he should do? Should this be the one? Help Chris make up his mind.

Chris will read your comments.

In 2017 I had written a piece for Hemmings.com that celebrated the half century of experiences associated with owning the same 1961 Corvette. It had generated a large number of thoughtful responses. However, none packed the impact of one that would come three years later.

A classic Corvette and a soldier’s old letters connect to a kid brother’s memories

In late July of this year I got an email from friend and Hemmings editor Mark McCourt. He alerted me to a comment that had just been posted to my three-year old story about the 1961 Corvette I had owned since 1967. Normal practice does not have an editor alert a writer about a posted comment.

Reading the comment took my breath away. It’s author was the “kid brother” of a dear friend who had passed away some years ago. The post stated:

“Mr. Hall, my name is John O’Brien. My late brother Maury O’Brien, one of your good friends, used to tell us that you meticulously cared for this car. I’m a car guy and it makes me feel good knowing that a car like that is still being driven and not just a trailer queen! I’d love to see it in person sometime. Feel free to contact me anytime. My cell # is (— ——). Your kind words and funny stories @ Maury’s funeral were very helpful during a difficult time! God bless you and your family!

Maury O’Brien and I had attended high school together. He possessed a wry sense of humor, great athleticism and a gifted eye as a photographer. Our mutual interest in all things photographic would seal our long friendship.

My Corvette made all our road trips a better adventure. With the top down and Wonderbar tube radio doing its best, we made countless trips to the Jersey Shore. On a slow day, we would target anyplace offering a good excuse to run some film through our Nikons.

Maury passed away in 2007 leaving behind a legion of friends and relatives who mourned his passing and celebrated his life. They still do.

John was Maury’s youngest brother, eleven years his junior. When John answered my phone call his voice carried a strong memory of his brother. We talked. We laughed. By the end of the call it was agreed that I would drive my Corvette to his house, certainly doable in an afternoon. He said that we would be joined by Maury’s two other brothers Vince and Gene and John’s 30-year old son, John, who had enjoyed a special relationship with his now departed uncle. They would come from even greater distances. His other brothers had been my friends though not as close as Maury. We had lost touch over the decades.

With John O’Brien

Even for those who have shared their lives together as caring siblings, when one passes, those remaining acquire a ready hunger for details. Somehow new memories in some small way rekindle the freshness of that life as if it still continues to be lived.

Beyond just my car I realized that I needed to bring more. I knew where to look, dusty as it might be. I save old letters.

Personal letters are the messengers of history, possessing great value for loved ones and future generations. I treasure letters. Those I possess include letters authored by a distant relative who wrote on his experiences in “Kansas Bloody Kansas” in the 1850s and the lessons learned during his life prior to and during the Civil War. I have, also, kept Maury’s letters from Vietnam written in the late 1960s.

Each letter provided four or five pages of casual but well composed reports in his voice from the engine room of the southeast Asia war machine. Their content expressed details all at once funny, intensely personal and profound in their worldly perspective.

On a beautiful bright and crisp autumn day, the O’Brien brothers and I gathered at a local restaurant. I immediately recognized old friends viewed through a filter of passing years. We toasted Maury and each in attendance did their best to compress decades of lives well lived into bite size chunks for easy group consumption.

Oldest brother Vince’s effort to recollect sports cars he had owned afforded a perfect segue into introducing Maury’s letters from Vietnam in 1969. In one letter Maury had mentioned Vince’s recent purchase of a 1968 Corvette.

Maury’s letters possessed a signature rhythm and pace. Casual references to friends and events in our hometown and requests for the latest local news would be supplemented with accounts of personal events in his life occurring beneath the tumult of a huge war. He expressed delight at the availability of Nikon camera equipment for roughly half what it would cost back home.

His observations of the world around him in 1969 are worth quoting. He wrote, “I find it hard to believe these people (South Vietnamese) are in a great period of national strife. Life goes on the same for them except the males are donning a uniform and the women work at the army base. They do not appear to know the why and the how of this war. I feel only pity for them. The only hope for a finish to this stupid thing will be an increase in pressure in North Vietnam to bring this thing to an end. At that point and that point only will the peace talks become fruitful.”

Every letter would concludes with an honest expression of need for written contact from home.

The day after meeting with Maury’s brothers I received a note from John. He wrote, “Hey Burton, thanks again for bringing the car up and sharing the letters. If you find any more letters, please let me know. My wife and I got kind of emotional reading the letters again last night. Maury was a Very Special Man! The connection between you, Maury, and that car is forever!

Clearly, both classic cars and personal letters provide vehicles capable of transporting us to good places.

A shout out to all of the past members of my pandemic interrupted “Collectible automobiles as a passion” class who donned masks and gathered at Paul’s Motors in Hawthorne, New Jersey last Thursday. An eclectic collection of superior classic automobiles together with a stack of pizzas made for a great night and reminded all, how much we miss getting together. And now on to this week’s story.

Elaine and I take great pleasure in avoiding major interstates when travelling through unfamiliar territory. The rewards of the “road not taken” memorialized by poet Robert Frost have been reinforced time and again in our travels. A few years ago seeking a back way to Charlotte, North Carolina put us on a wonderful well paved two-lane that meandered through rolling farmland and woods. While the road merits inclusion in “Roads We Remember,” the man we met at the end of the road makes this story a “Conversation With People We Value.”

American Pickers meets Hunger Games on a country road

A picturesque ribbon of highway, Route 742 weaved through the rural Piedmont region of North Carolina. My personal directional instincts fortified by happenstance, hope and blind luck (We don’t need no stinkin’ GPS) had once again struck pay dirt.

Route 742 would be transporting us on a picturesque and untroubled journey to my favorite destination, “somewhere else.” Encouraged by Elaine’s child-like delight in the joys of being hopelessly lost, we reveled in this open expanse of rural America dotted with healthy farms and infrequent villages that populated this handsome country road.

The striking pristine cleanliness and order of one small community we passed through piqued our interest. We were later told that a local son who had gone off to make his fortune had done just that. The story went that with gratitude for his upbringing he returned to invest in revitalizing his home town. Whether true or not, I had chosen to believe.

Slowing to the end of this idyllic blue highway and poised to leave behind this land of lovely hamlets, an amazing sight entered our view. Before our wondering eyes should appear (Yes, I know, I stole the line but it just fit so well) what could only be described as the land of Oz for pickers and automobilia enthusiasts. And, we were about to meet a real wizard.

Locked gates barred access to acres of open land filled with an incredible array of tangible relics saved from long ago. Affixed to the gate a large “For Sale” sign offered a number for anyone interested. Driving on with this treasure trove of who-knows-what disappearing behind us, we both looked at each other and said, “Let’s call.” By the time we got back to the gate it was open.

A breathtaking and eclectic array of stuff, great, rare, fun stuff laid strewn about, sequestered in trailers, displayed in open barns and housed in closed buildings. Signage dating back as far as 80 years displayed iconic brands with names that now recede into history. Standard Oil, ESSO, Texaco, Sinclair, Gulf signs and more populated walls and hung from original poles just as they did many decades ago. WWII fighter drop tanks, post war cars and trucks, a cluster of Volkswagens, Air Stream trailers, phone booths, motorcycles and farm combines all of various vintages and states of condition filled our field of vision.

Approaching us with an easy gate, a full bodied man, an avuncular sort greeted us with a friendly welcome delivered with that unhurried regional tone of the Southeast that reminds one that it’s not New Jersey. He introduced himself as Mike Hinson. With a neatly trimmed beard, and a neighborly smile, Mike with his wide brimmed hat and clean bib overalls presented an image of a proprietor rather than a laborer.

While everything was for sale, Mike walked us around projecting the unhurried air of a docent rather than a salesman. Indeed, his demeanor perfectly matched the extraordinary collection amassed in his near forty years of running a business from the store his grandfather built in the early 1900s. With family roots that traced back over a century, Mike’s business in this little town of Red Cross, North Carolina with its 742 residents brimmed not only with artifacts but history as well.

Though soft spoken and deliberate in speech and manner, one suspected that Mike had a keen country mind when conducting business. Walking through the acres of breathtaking remnants from times gone by, Mike explained how he conducted most of his business at major antique and collectibles shows down the eastern seaboard from Pennsylvania to Florida.

He possessed a fondness for Hershey in the fall that did not extend to Carlisle in any season. “I stopped going to Carlisle some years ago. It just seems that Hershey offers a far greater opportunity to sell items to buyers interested in the unusual or rare,” said Mike.

For this article I took the opportunity to attempt to  follow-up with Mike. With a twinge of trepidation, I called the number from the sign in a photograph. A lot can happen over a few years. Two rings and Mike answered. We talked. We laughed. Yes, Mike said, the business was pretty much the same. Something inside me felt so deep down good that something so distinctively unique, quirky and vulnerable to “progress” had remained as I had remembered it.

As a purveyor of the rare and unusual, the large and fascinating and the historic and authentic, it should be no surprise that Mike has drawn the attention of both Hollywood and Madison Avenue for movies, commercials and reality programming. “I guess the best known film that they propped from here would be the ‘Hunger Games’,” says Mike. He continues, “They rented a lot of rusty stuff. He does not  seem overly interested in the film productions that come to peruse his period correct or unusual items. “Frankly,” Mike says, “My wife Ellen and I don’t go to the movies.” But they do watch television especially when Mike appears, as he did on an episode of “American Pickers.”

Say’s Mike, “They must have spent a full eight hours here to get the 10 minutes of film they ultimately wanted.” Mike really enjoyed working with Mike Wolfe.  “Appearing on American Pickers gave me the best advertising in the world and it did not cost me a penny,” says Mike.

When asked what items were purchased for the show, Mike says, “I had a 1930’s Bowlus Road Chief camper that they really, really liked. I had bought it a few weeks earlier and they wanted it very badly.” Mike Wolfe messed around with me all day long about that camper,” says Mike. Finally with the shooting day fast coming to a close Mike Wolfe says, “I know you do not want to sell it, but just give me your price.” “Okay, said Mike, “ I’ll take 75.”  Mike Wolfe reached out to shake Mike’s hand as Mike Wolfe  said, “I’ll take it for $7,500.” Mike responded, “No Man, It’s $75,000.”

1930s Bowlus Road Chief

Apparently that exchange provided a highlight for that episode and merits a periodic flashback on the show.

When asked to name his all time favorite item across his acres and through the decades Mike without hesitation identifies his 1930s Bowlus Road Chief camper, the “no sale” item that had so disappointed Mike Wolfe. A gleaming riveted aluminum projectile with the aerodynamics of an airliner, it was the creation of aircraft designer William Hawley Bowlus in the 1930s. Bowlus greatest fame came not from his work with campers but with aircraft. He designed and built the Spirit of St. Louis that carried Charles Lindbergh to eternal fame.

When asked if he still had the Bowlus camper, Mike says no. He sold it to a buyer in the Midwest. When asked if he regretted not taking Mike Wolfe’s offer, Mike provided a polite “not at all” with the quiet confidence of a man who knows everything has a price and the patience to await the buyer who will pay it.

I asked Mike if the “for sale” sign that I had seen years back remained on the gate. “Yes, I probably get a call a week,” Mike says, “When I tell them my price, they don’t want to talk anymore. I’m in no hurry.”

If you found the story of Mr. Mike, as he is known locally, interesting, check the three links below.

1. American Pickers
2. Mike Hinson by Josh Swope
3. Drone video by Aerial Outlook

Funny what surfaces when digging through old dusty files. Recently some Playboy Bunnies tumbled out of a long forgotten banker box.

Over forty years ago, I hatched the idea for a story that combined interesting cars and beautiful women. Granted, while we’re not talking the great American novel, I did believe the odds of getting published were good.

Based on my proximity to McAfee, New Jersey, my idea called for writing a piece on Playboy Bunnies at the Great Gorge Playboy Resort who drove Corvettes. I pitched the idea to Corvette News. Their response? Absolutely! I was halfway home. Now, I only needed permission and cooperation from Playboy to provide access to the women who fit the story, if they existed, and to conduct interviews and photograph the women on the scenic Playboy resort grounds. How hard could that be?

To my pleasant surprise, Playboy embraced the idea. Game on for “Great Cars, Great Girls, Great Gorge.”

Playboy Bunnies in the rearview mirror

L-R Cathy, Kelly, Marie                                                                                 All photography by Burton Hall

Armed with a note pad, a pair of Nikons and boundless enthusiasm, I assumed the guise of the professional me as I approached the awaiting dream gig. I remember how rural it all felt as I navigated the two lane roads leading to what would be Hugh Hefner’s huge and subsequently failed bet that New Jersey would legalize gambling in the 1970s. My journey cut though farmland, cow pastures and woodlands until the Playboy Resort rose like a Mayan temple above the forest canopy. An approving wave at the security booth confirmed that all systems were go.

I still remember the Playboy PR staff. Jack Prather, Public Relations Director and his assistant, Mary Lander, put it together seamlessly. They introduced me to the three young women who would bring my idea to life. Kelly, Marie and Cathy, stunning in their royal blue VIP Room Bunny uniforms, would join me out in front of the resort to pose with one of their Corvettes. We would then reconvene at a scenic location off the golf course after they removed their Bunny suits and changed into casual clothes.

With bow tie, Bunny ears, cotton tail, 3-inch heels and a bustier-like body suit with a high thigh cut that made legs look like they went on forever, the Bunny suit transformed its occupant into a Playboy Club celebrity. Born from the creative vision of actress Ilse Taurins, the girlfriend of a Playboy executive in 1959, the Bunny suit, by 1960, achieved iconic status.

While feminists would view the wardrobe as clear evidence of subjugation and objectification, the women filling the suits, for the most part, viewed it as a strenuous and respectable way to make a very good living with the flexibility to attend college, raise children or pursue personal interests.

Kelly, Marie and Cathy clearly fit into the latter unsubjugated mind set. It should also be noted that Kelly, Marie and Cathy were not their real names. All bunnies took on a pseudonym as a security measure.

Kelly with a sunburst smile, cascades of chestnut curls and a Classic White 1973 Corvette with a 1970 LT1 small block loved fast cars and fast horses. She also had a 1967 E-Type under restoration and owned a Thoroughbred, a Quarter Horse and a Saddlebred that she intended to breed. Raised minutes from Great Gorge, she still lived on the family farm. Trained as a cosmetologist she had yearned for more social interaction. One Valentine’s Day six years prior, she went to Great Gorge for an interview. She had been a Bunny ever since.

Cathy, though a beautiful blue-eyed blonde, possessed real car guy instincts. Since buying her 1977 white on white Corvette three years earlier, she had clocked over 35,000 miles a year. “I had wanted a Corvette since I was 10 years old, “ Cathy said. She had to convince her dad as to the “wisdom” of buying the Corvette. Apparently she succeeded. Her sister got one too. “A nice day I am gone,” said Cathy, “Down through the south, up through New England, wherever my whims take me.” She expressed great pleasure at being a Bunny because of the financial and personal freedom it afforded her.

Marie with an infectious smile and engaging openness brought a natural athleticism to whatever she did. An accomplished skier and golfer, Marie brought her same signature spark and confidence to her time behind the wheel of her 1975 Silver Corvette. With no lack of serpentine back roads around Great Gorge and her love of the outdoors, Marie would have the T-tops off and a firm hand on the 4-speed every chance she got.

All three had achieved a level of respect and recognition at the resort as signified by their years of service and status as VIP Room Bunnies though each entered with different expectations

Marie’s introduction to Playboy started when she was sixteen and worked as kitchen help at the resort. Like Kelly she went to school for cosmetology but found it lacking in diversity and a wider population with which to interact. She returned to Great Gorge and put on the ears.

Cathy received her degree in Retail Management. While working for a men’s clothing chain, on a dare from her boss she packed her bikini and with much trepidation went for a Bunny interview. Cathy said, “while I now really enjoy being a Bunny, my first impression was quite different.” Cathy’s interview brought her to the New York Playboy Club. Watching the bunnies bustling passed, Cathy gulped self-consciously when she eyeballed the Bunny suit and how much of the Bunny was outside of the suit.

Bunny interviewing and supervision clearly qualified as woman’s work performed by the Playboy Club Bunny Mother. At that time at Great Gorge, Bunny Mother and former Bunny Sandra Schiffer ruled the hutch and made the decisions. Years later Ms. Schiffer’s daughter would follow in her mother’s Bunny tracks as a Playboy Bunny. At the interview a Bunny Mother selected from a large number of applicants with an eye to proportions and confidence that those chosen would maintain the Bunny image of the doe-eyed, adrenaline generating girl-next-door with lady-like discretion and the iron will of a Buckingham Palace Guard.

So natural and relaxed in front of a lens, for Kelly, Marie and Cathy whether together or alone, clearly the camera was their friend. All three had commented that whether working at the resort or making a personal appearance for Playboy, the first question they got would always be “what issue were you in?

“Many people assume that as a Bunny you must also be in the magazine,” said Cathy. Every so often a photographer would come to the club, inquiring of any women interested in test shot.

“I couldn’t do it,” said Kelly. “For those that do, fine, it’s just not me.

Said Cathy, “My father would put me six feet under. No question. I couldn’t stand the thought of walking into a service station and seeing that picture on the wall.”

Now in casual clothes, Kelly, Cathy and Marie posed with their respective cars displaying a natural poise that relegated the Corvette to that of fashion accessory. The day moved on till our work was done. I thanked them for their time, effort and grace.

Each would now prepare for work where bathed in the subdued candle light of the elegant Playboy VIP Room the young women would move among the patrons performing a graceful balance of focusing male attention with a charm and poise that would provoke no wife.

Weeks passed after I submitted “Great Cars, Great Girls, Great Gorge.” I received payment and a note. The staff loved the story. With the accompanying photography it had laid out very well, but. But?  But, Corvette News had just changed editors and the story did not conform with the new editor’s personal values. The story would not run.

Until now.

So, a couple of weeks back the car enthusiast website “Cars Yeah” reached out. They were aware of “Drivin’ News” and asked to interview me for a podcast. Yes, absolutely came my reply.

You can access the podcast and the “Cars Yeah” website by clicking on the “Cars Yeah” link.

Subsequently, the events surrounding that interview and my conversations with “Cars Yeah” host and founder Mark Greene, brought forward simmering back burner thoughts about what I call Life 2.0.

More than the next chapter, it’s the next book – Life 2.0

A passionate automotive enthusiast Mark departed a corporate experience he enjoyed to create a web presence focusing on what he loved.

Twenty years after helping to launch Griot’s Garage he concluded his tenure as president of the company. He had taken pleasure in his work. He wore many hats. “I scoured the automotive world looking for quality products to expand Griot’s offerings,” says Mark. He immersed himself in developing the line of car care products while at Griot’s. “I’m a nutcase when it comes to keeping my cars clean,” he says. After Hurricane Sandy devastated the Northeast in 2012 you may remember Mark in Hagerty Magazine explaining how to deal with a vehicle’s exposure to salt water. However, all things, good or otherwise, come to an end.

With Griot’s Garage in his taillights that “book of life” with its many chapters had come to a close. What to do?

For some with careers approaching closure the question of “what next” lies ahead on a visible horizon. For others “what next” looms close enough for them to feel its breath on their face.

Feeling the breath on his face, Mark, while walking with his adult son, asked, “what should I do?” The son responded, “You’ve taken me to car events my entire life. You can’t walk past a car without stopping and talking to the owner. You ask questions about their car, their life, and their passions. There’s your answer. It’s what you love. You should start a podcast.” Like standing a foot from a billboard, sometimes we are too close to see the answer in front of us.

Over six years have passed since Mark embarked on his Mark 2.0 adventure. His plan called for energizing automotive enthusiasts and enthusiasm by inter­viewing Inspiring Automotive Enthusiasts (The Cars Yeah mantra) and sharing their stories of success. Today a visit to Mark’s “Cars Yeah” website reveals over 1600 interviews with the likes of Keith Martin, Kyle Petty, Lyn St. James, Bruce Meyer, Don Garlits and Bobby Rahal. Of all the features on the site a favorite of mine offers book recommendations by each of the 1600 plus guests. To see guest recommended books click here.

While appreciating that a person’s location on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs affords different degrees of freedom, the counsel to incorporate what you naturally love into the work that you do should not be considered a luxury but a worth goal.

Learning Mark’s story of new beginnings with its similarities to my own, resonated with my efforts to construct Burton 2.0. Reducing the scope of my business did not reduce my desire to actively connect, create and produce. Covid-19 of all things provided a window of opportunity. An energetic and highly social classic vehicle community has found itself isolated by the strictures of shelter-in-place. By focusing my natural love for storytelling, Drivin’ News aims to be a sanctuary where people can visit to enjoy things they are missing and be reminded that these things will be there when we return.

For all of us who feel the breath of profound change on our face, regardless of age or place in life, taking the time to identify what we naturally love to do can set the cornerstone for building the future we desire.

For the fortunate among us who have been so blessed, the emotional bond developed over the time spent with “the dog of your life” needs no explanation only celebration.

Georgie, a black lab rescue, lived life off the leash with each day an opportunity to experience and share joy only made better by reveling in it from the perspective of a moving vehicle.

On Sunday August 16^th Georgie passed away at the age of 15.

In celebration of a life off the leash

While my life experience with Georgie was uniquely personal, the quality of the emotional bond forged by those life experiences is not unique and in that reality lies the beauty of this story.

Rescued by Elaine who would become the love of my life, Georgie entered my world as part of the best twofer possible.

Both Elaine and I have BMW SUVs which suited Georgie’s everyday travel tastes. Quickly, back seats went down to accommodate significant upgrades including featherbeds. Not unlike John Madden enjoying his fabulous bus, Georgie luxuriated in grand style while on the road. However no BMW snob she. Her tastes extended into the classic and quirky.

While she would tolerate a ride in a 1953 Ford F100, Elaine’s 1972 VW Westfalia camper took precedent when weather turned fair. Georgie would perch on a second row cushion with a great view of the road through the split between the front seats. With ears flapping like the flying nun’s hat, no black lab in transit savored a travel experience more.

Farmer’s markets and car shows offered extraordinary opportunities for Georgie to roam about insinuating herself into group discussions. When Elaine took a trophy for her Westfalia, Georgie trotted along to share the accolade.

Lately stories have been exchanged with other men and women, friends and strangers describing their “dog of my life.” If the stories are told in past tense regardless of the teller’s stern countenance, sand gets in their eyes. If the stories are in present tense, accompanying the joy comes a universal acknowledgment of how lucky they are and the immense respect they have for their canine partner.

A great companion on a forest hike or a city stroll, Georgie would engage people at random with a disarming openness that communicated with cross species clarity that, of course you can pet me and you should, and almost universally, without hesitation, strangers would love her up as if she had been their own.

In my studies I have been taught that the body stores emotional pains experienced and often manifests them as physical maladies. Conversely and perversely the joy we experience is ephemeral. I do not totally agree and wish to take this opportunity to advocate for joy’s value as a lasting contributor to making each of us a better person.

Joy produces lessons learned that have staying power expressed in our thoughts and actions. While at present I am experiencing profound sadness, I also realize that I am a better person for the lessons learned in the presence of Georgie.

As a tribute to every “dog of my life” treasured as a canine companion I would like to share the following. This July on the precipice of Georgie’s decline, Elaine and I took her on vacation to an historic farm on Martha’s Vineyard. For a few days the owner’s friend served as the innkeeper. A lovely woman, she had the opportunity to spend a little time each day with Georgie. Upon hearing of Georgie’s passing she wrote us the following.

“Georgie was a special soul. A gentle, intelligent and beautiful girl. Her generous happy spirit was contagious as she shared her joy and kindness. She was a unique being with an almost saintly energy. You were blessed with the love and time you all had together. She changed your lives. Her goodness lives within you.”

For all of us who have been blessed with the “dog of our lives” reading a heartfelt description capturing your canine partner’s qualities would be equally moving. And once again you would feel the sand in your eyes.

It is my belief that “dogs of our life” go to heaven and sitteth under the right hand of God where God can pet them for their mutual benefit.

You are invited to share a story about your “dog of your life” in the comments section. Those are stories I would love to read.

In the moment you felt the vigor draining from your very being. Shadows took on living form and danced across your field of vision taunting you to react as they evaporated. Your eyes blinked like a neon tube going bad. You cranked up the radio, sang loudly, rolled down the windows regardless of the season or the weather. To no avail. Succumbing to the embrace of Morpheus the Greek god of dreams, you had fallen asleep at the wheel.

In Rest Stop Recovery, Dr. Charles Berg with over 40 years of experience as a chiropractor, practitioner of integrative nutrition and a lifestyle coach for organizations such as BMW and UBS offers helpful pointers and a 5-minute revitalizing routine that will get you safely back on the road and up to speed as a driver and a traveler.

Asleep at the wheel, Rest Stop Recovery

It’s a horrible feeling. Ignoring it can have deadly consequences. Estimates from the American Automobile Association show that one of every six deadly traffic accidents and one of every eight accidents requiring hospitalization are the result of drowsy driving.

Dr. Berg’s focus will be on long drives e.g. a four-hour ride home after a Thanksgiving dinner or a ten-hour ride returning from a vacation.

Rule one when drowsy behind the wheel, pull over. Then the distance to your destination will determine the right course of action so that you get there.

For short term drives within an hour of your destination the traditional solution of pulling over to take a brief 20-minute nap or down two cups of coffee normally provide the reinvigoration necessary to get home safely. It is a whole different story for that long drive home on a monotonous interstate with daylight fading and oncoming headlights twinkling in your eyes.

“In the ideal scenario, it’s a matter of prior planning,” says Dr. Berg. Plan to be rested for the drive. Plan the best time of day to depart. Plan to eat properly before and during the drive.

Get a good sleep the night before. Understand your circadian rhythm. Are you an early bird or a night owl? Plan your travel time accordingly.

Plan so that you do not drive on a full stomach. Like the proverbial pig in the python, your body after a large meal directs blood flow to the digestive system and away from cognition and muscle activity. Pythons having consumed a sizable meal become sedentary and unresponsive. Similar behavior is witnessed in male family members after a holiday meal at your grandmother’s.

Unfortunately, a vast majority of us endure travel schedule’s determined by happenstance, constricted windows of opportunity and evaporating available time that pushes us to the limit. What should someone do facing that situation?

“Biohack,” says Dr. Berg. Think of biohacking as turbocharging your consciousness. Biohacking pumps oxygen into your system and stimulates your senses.

Stair Step

Curing drowsiness demand’s elevating your oxygen supply and increasing your blood flow. An infusion of oxygen elevates your body’s ability to generate energy, just like a turbo. Large muscle movement increases blood flow which utilizes that energy.

“Biohack,” says Dr. Berg. Think of biohacking as turbocharging your consciousness. Biohacking pumps oxygen into your system and stimulates your senses.

Curing drowsiness demand’s elevating your oxygen supply and increasing your blood flow. An infusion of oxygen elevates your body’s ability to generate energy, just like a turbo. Large muscle movement increases blood flow which utilizes that energy.

Biohacks (all require pulling over):

Deep Squat

1. Deep inhalations and exhalations for 30 seconds. This stimulates your sympathetic nervous system and increases the oxygen supply which energizes the body.

2. Shout!, just like the Eisley Brothers. Do it five or six times. It gives your system a jolt. Do this in conjunction with the deep breathing.

3. Cold water splashed on your face and neck gives your bodya jolt. It’s just water even if you have a dress shirt on it will do no damage.

Push-up

4. Dr. Berg’s 5 to keep you alive – Each activity employs large muscle systems such as the buttocks, thighs, quads and biceps to bring the heart rate up which increases blood flow and oxygen delivery.

The level of exertion should be in line with your level of fitness. Do each exercise for 30 seconds,

#1   Stair steps – In a stationary position bring your knee up to waist high alternating the left and right leg.

Running in place

#2   Squats – From a vertical position lower your body in a seated position to the bumper of the car. Then sit up. Repeat.

#3   Push-ups – With feet firmly shoulder length apart, place both hands on the hood, a fender or rear

bumper then raise and lower your body.

#4   Running in place

Jumping Jacks

#5   Jumping Jacks

The only thing better than knowing how to ward off drowsiness is not to experience it. Dr. Berg identifies driver seating posture and choice of snacks as two critical factors in defending against drowsiness. He calls driving with your seat reclined at a 45 degree angle, “horrific. In that position you have assumed a sleeping posture and sent a message to your brain to pull up the covers and turn out the lights.” He strongly recommends bringing the seat back up a few inches to what he calls “church pew” seating. This reinforces the need to maintain attention.

Rest Stop “less than ideal” menu

Many people consider car snacking an art. It should also be appreciated as a science, a nutritional science. “The last things you want to snack on during a long trip are carbohydrates especially sugar,” says Dr. Berg. Carbohydrates offer a short term boost followed by a punishing plunging crash. Protein foods are much better. Almonds and most nuts rank high as a driving snack as do vegetable and fruit slices. Chips, chocolate, pretzels, sugary beverages all put you on the fast lane to snoozeville.

Belted out with vigor and a smile, the words “Let’s go for a ride” have launched many a wonderful open road adventure, one which often concludes with dinner at a favorite restaurant. Such an afternoon escape, not long ago ranked in the higher echelon of simple pleasures. Who could have foreseen that restaurants, especially “your” favorite restaurant would be an endangered species. It appears that the pandemic has placed many favorite eateries in the cross hairs of potential extinction before the new normal arrives.

We took the Drivin’ News 1972 VW Westfalia out to get dinner and answers at some of our favorite local restaurants. What we found revealed the strong bond between communities and their restaurants and the profound impact that that relationship would have in shaping the character of our communities when the new normal arrives.

TAKE-OUT – A lifeline to the future

With the present pandemic restrictions, our VW Westfalia affords what can only be described as the pinnacle of present day dining out experiences. Supplementing the fold-out table, refrigerator (cooler with a door), sink (yes, running water) and pop-up top to allow for standing, our dining experience featured VW themed designer cutlery and place settings. Proper social distancing is no problem. There is only room for two.

All the restaurants visited functioned with an almost military precision. Cell phones alerted customers to pull up as the food came from the kitchen. Payment was either done by card in advance or with mobile hand units at pickup.

Many restaurants had canopied seating, some with music for patrons who wished to dine out on site. All food does have to be served in take out containers.

Survival stories on the road to the “new normal”

It has become painfully clear that many fine and favorite eateries which have delighted our palates before the pandemic could well be gone when better days return.

For the many quality restaurants not mentioned in this story it can be accepted that all share similar challenges and concerns as expressed by the restaurateurs quoted here.

With a shared voice they all spoke to the critical importance of TAKE-OUT as the lifeline that will bridge this crisis and allow for a future in the “new normal.”

While facing this uncertain and difficult time, all proprietors made a point of expressing their profound gratitude for the support of the surrounding community that has risen to sustain them. The quality of their words reflected those of a farmer whose neighbors rallied to sandbag a river to save his crops from being lost.

Click on the Restaurant’s name to go to their website.

Chris D’Eletto (Jack’s Café – Westwood)

I have owned Jack’s Café for almost 14 years. Presently TAKE-OUT is everything. We are at a fraction of our normal business but we are holding on. I miss the people. I am so thankful that I am going to be allowed to have some seating on June 15^th though it will only be half capacity. Before Covid-19 It was already hard to make a living in the restaurant business so TAKE OUT will remain critical to our survival.

This community is awesome. I love Westwood. I live in Westwood. I am proud of my community. The people have been incredibly faithful. We have people who order every week. Sometimes twice a week. They are great.

I am going to make it. Absolutely. This is my life.

Malissa Wright (Peppercorn’s – Park Ridge)

I have owned Peppercorn’s for a year. I never saw this coming. They say tough times make you tougher. So be it. Right now if it wasn’t for TAKE-OUT I would have my doors shut.

Peppercorn’s has been around a long time. I am humbled by how Peppercorn’s customers have responded to our situation with their support and loyalty. They are making a concerted effort to support us. It’s been very, very humbling.

We have started our outside seating which will make a great difference. Still TAKE-OUT remains so important.

Peppercorn’s will survive.

Thomas Davey (Davey’s Locker – Montvale)

Davey’s Locker has been in my family for 46 years. My dad bought it in 1974.

TAKE-OUT is all we have. It isn’t a long term solution but it is sustaining us as we bridge to the future “new normal.” Opening up outside is going to help. We are planning for inside where  we will have socially distanced seating. If we are lucky we will be doing maybe half of what we used to do. TAKE-OUT will remain fundamental to our continued existence.

I can’t say enough about the community. Incredible. After St. Patrick’s Day we shut down. Everyone was locked down. After about 4 weeks I set up a little tent outside and sold Davey’s digital gift cards. People came in to say hello and buy gift cards. Talk about faith. People didn’t know if Davey’s was ever going to open up again. We sold thousands of dollars in gift cards. What can I say? We opened up.

Ralph Colantuono (Granita Grille – Westwood)

I’ve owned the Granita Grill for 22 years. TAKE-OUT is everything. I do not have a lot of space for outside seating so until people can come indoors, TAKE-OUT is my lifeline to the future.

I cannot express my gratitude to the community for their support. Our traditional regulars as well as surrounding community members have made all of the difference in the world.

Frank Hernandez (Cornerstone – Hillsdale)

Cornerstone has been in business 14 years, Frank Hernandez has been manager for one year.

TAKE-OUT is the lifeblood of our business. That is all we have going at this point. Thankfully the community has been fantastic in supporting us from the day this all started.

Clearly we are eager to welcome people back inside in a reconfigured socially distanced layout. We hope people appreciate that the restaurant business is in the best position to do things properly as constant Health Department oversight ensures that proper procedures are in place.

Randy Carson (Park Steakhouse – Park Ridge)

I have owned Park Steakhouse for 15 years.

It is only because of the tremendous support from the people of Park Ridge and the surrounding community for our TAKE-OUT business that we can stay afloat until we get the new normal sorted out. Right now we are creating a sheltered outdoor dining area.

Park Ridge has been wonderful to us. Everybody has really pulled together to help us through this. In having the community there for us now will allow us to be there for them in the future.

What then can each of us do to ensure that we don’t find ourselves yearning for that favorite entree with no recourse but a taunting and flavorless memory? Clearly, to the Covid-19 mantra of “wear a mask” and “wash your hands” we must add ORDER TAKE-OUT!

Share with us your favorite restaurant after a drive. Give them some recognition in the comments section. It just may make the difference.