Kevin Shaw: Farewell to Summer

Last night, as I stepped out of the shower and flipped on the TV, I came across Bruce Brown’s perennial classic surf documentary, “The Endless Summer.” The grainy and dated 1966 film follows Mike Hynson and Robert August on what could only be regarded as the ultimate surf adventure, crisscrossing the globe in search of “the perfect wave.”

Huntington Beach, California adopted the name "Surf City" and continues to host annual surf competitions. Surfing is very much still alive in SoCal, but has outlived its impact on the coast's culture.

Albeit that these two Californian surfers paddle out into crystalline blue waters of West Africa, walk the shark-riddled beaches of Australia, and ride the clean curls billowing off of the volcanic black sand shores Tahiti, the film resonates to me, and many others, as the ideal of Californian life despite the Golden State composing very little of the film itself.

Growing up in picturesque Seal Beach, a small beachside bedroom community in Southern California, I oddly never really took up the sport. Be it due to my fair skin or enmity towards sand being everywhere, I was never bit by the surfing bug…although I wish it had. Growing up, I always felt left out, like an uninvited guest to a party, resigned to peer in at the festivities through an outside window.

Rather, I was more interested in the culture surrounding sport. Surfing heavily influenced the development of Orange County, California, in both economics and socially. Beach towns either fought against the wave of teenagers with bushy, bushy blonde hairdos or embraced them – and their patronage – with open arms.

The "surf wagon" or van is now an antique like a '32 roadster or a '51 Ford Vicky. Surfers employing the elderly wagons do so to akin themselves with years gone by, the same way modern hot rodders purposefully only use ancient aftermarket parts. Authenticity is key.

Yet, that was decades ago. Gidget is now an Oscar-winning actress. Shorelines are dotted with multimillion-dollar condos instead of train trestles and rhythmically dipping oil derricks. Safari buses and rag top coupes no longer cruise Pacific Coast Highway, but Toyota Prii and glossy black SUVs. Surfing has become an archaic past time to Southern California, the same way iron-working has for Pennsylvania; sure it helped make the state what it is today, but its sooo blasé.

Hot Rod Magazine was how we all got our hot rodding fix, and soon it too will have to change to keep up with the times, as printed media and subscription sales continue to plummet. Why pay $6 for a magazine when you can get it for free online, right?

So why am I going on and on about surfing in a muscle car magazine? Because just like surfing has become a dated reminder of SoCal’s past, so has hot rodding. At one time, hot rodding’s home was found on the Gold Coast.

Returning servicemen blew their G.I. bills on jalopies to race the dry lakes or on the open city streets. The industry’s oldest names were birthed here: Edelbrock, Iskenderian, Mooneyes, Hot Rod Magazine, and the National Hot Rod Association.

Yet, California is doing all it can to purge hot rodding (as well as any industry and manufacturing) from its borders. Tracks have closed steadily, brought down by noise complaints from neighboring HOAs while commercial airlines fly overhead. Said closures have, in turn, bred street racing, wherein highway patrolmen enthusiastically promise to crush offending vehicles upon capture. Meanwhile, as local car cruises continue to spring up, local government petitions to fine promoters for violating new-found zoning regulations.

When was the last time you bought a magazine on the newrack? If you have, you're in the minority.

Once the hub of custom hot rod builders, exorbitant property costs compounded by heavy constraints on fabrication and painting have chased these small businesses out. Only shops willing to split their time doing humdrum “insurance work” or incessantly flip customs and restorations at auction can survive the weight of expounded Social Security, State and local taxes and Workman’s Compensation rates. Signs are soon to hearken, “Come to California for the Weather. Stay for the Revenue Collection.”

I have finally and completely dated myself with this picture, you'll note the Charger in the background has since been media blasted, disassembled, painted, reassembled, and ultimately resto-modded into a quasi-functioning '69 Dodge Charger R/T clone.

As of this writing, I am three days away from leaving California as well. Most all of my family’s possessions have been packed, boxed, and labeled. My garage is in shambles, plastic tubs, boxes and shelves towering precariously over my Charger; I haven’t prayed so hard that an earthquake wouldn’t strike in years. We are leaving the West Coast for greener pastures, literally.

Unfortunately, the move also implies that I will no longer be serving as Editor for Street Legal TV. It has been my pleasure to provide you with what I thought to be some of the most compelling, entertaining, and occasionally entertaining classic automotive journalism on the internet today. There’s been some really fun stuff that I’ve been able to write and publish, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my passion for classic Detroit iron – albeit I might’ve gone overboard on the Mopar stuff.

Online magazines are still in their infancy and still have much more maturing to do before they can completely replace the printed media you and I have been raised on. ‘Dems the facts. The internet is an ever-hungry beast that requires persistent feeding, and ofttimes the need to fill, regardless of the content’s quality. Thankfully, as SLTV has grown, the attitude has gravitated away from the hurried urgency of shilling McDonald’s burgers to providing true enthusiast-targeted content. I’m proud to have played a large part in that. I hope that it continues in my stead.

I love car magazines and I’ve been lucky enough to have been a magazine editor for nearly a decade. Yet, the medium is simply vanishing, like the household phone or the cassette tape deck.

Sorry guys, I'm taking my Charger with me. Maybe I'll be able to get the damned thing running finally.

Online or digital magazines appear to be the next evolutionary step in how we get our muscle car fix, but even I can admit that it’s not quite “there” yet. Conversely, I believe in the power of online forums. There is no outlet more honest than the forum – even with all of its warts.

I earnestly believe that a hybrid of the two will serve us car enthusiasts best. Some forums are learning to reach out to their more talented members and present well-written, informative technical articles, image-rich event coverage and car features, and insightful reporting and editorials. The magazines are equally reaching to expand their digital reach. Hot Rod Magazine claims that August will usher in a whole “new” HRM. It appears the dinosaurs are finally sprouting feathers…

Ultimately, everything changes. California is no longer a “surfer’s paradise;” I watched it become someplace unlike that where I was raised. I too, am watching how the car magazine is changing. There will be new ways to get your favorite automotive news, be it a phone, headset or plumbed directly into your cerebral cortex. All that’s certain is that things keep changing. I suppose that’s just another part of life…and life is good.

Light ’em up,
Kevin

About the author

Kevin Shaw

Kevin Shaw is a self-proclaimed "muscle car purist," preferring solid-lifter camshafts and mechanical double-pumpers over computer-controlled fuel injection and force-feeding power-adders. If you like dirt-under-your-fingernails tech and real street driven content, this is your guy.
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