Yes, this column is all bull.
You’ve been saying it for years and today we confirm it with a story that is a metaphor for all that is going wrong in this weirdly woke world that is making the majority metal lovers bow to the whims of the evil electricians who hate all that is good – like V8s, exhaust systems that make noise, manual gears, drive-ins and car-based horizontal folk dancing.
Nine years ago, reader 17, Lee Meyer of Norfolk, Nebraska, bought a Watusi bull he named Howdy Doody. Twenty readers, no friends (now that the old bloke dudded me in Australia’s best sports event, the Leyburn Sprints and kudos to the race announcer who asked the 20,000 fans and four people viewing the narrowcast – soon to be on Kayo – “What mother would call her baby Michael McMichael?”) and one member of the family who only reads to stay in the will, Norfolk, Nebraska should be on the top of your bucket list.
Of course, Norfolk is best known as the home to Johnny Carson, but there’s so much more to discover. Axe throwing, geocaching, disc golf, apple orchards, trap shooting, pheasant, quail, turkey and deer hunting (no woke here) and horseshoes. But wait for it! Yup it’s pedal therapy.
I know Monte Carlo at F1 time might sound and feel exciting (and of course we’re reporting this morning on the most exciting F1 race in 20 years, guess who won for the ninth time this year?) or a flat off the Boulevard St Michel, where you can talk like Marlene Dietrich and dance like Zizi Jeanmaire or like me, go topless on the sand at Juan-les-Pins, go snowing in St Moritz or shiver in the only freshwater ice bath in the world at Shelter, just up the road from the North Bondi RSL, where Fridays there are always meat tray raffles. The trays will even appeal to vegetarians that like chops.
No flaneurs, Norfolk has Pedal Therapy. Yup even I have to admit to liking something that is green, non-polluting and exercises mind, spirit and body. Norfolk’s is the world’s first and only pedal pub offering. It’s a unique opportunity to experience Norfolk’s vibrant downtown district in an entirely new way while sipping drinks alongside a group of your best friends, co-workers, or even, at a big stretch, family. The camaraderie of good company, the merriment of strong drink, all against the backdrop of a buzzing and beautiful, eclectic downtown setting is why Norfolk is your dream destination.
Anyway, Lee Meyer and Howdy Doody were minding their own business cruising down the highway in their Ford Crown Victoria sedan (Ford’s most profitable car ever, yours in mint condition for about $3k with no bull), when some woke anti-V8 crusader called 911 and complained. The Captain Plod of the local constabulary, Chad Reiman, was straight on the job. (Chad has been with the Norfolk Police Division since July 1997 and was promoted to captain in May 2019.)
“It didn’t take long for my officers to track down the modified Ford Crown Victoria sedan with a million kilo bull with horns longer than the queue waiting for free Coopers day at the Kensi”, Captain Reiman said. In the quote of the year Chad told me via the agricultural psychic AP internet that “we didn’t have a full understanding of it until we saw it”.
Earth to Chad. Lee and Howdy Doody make Taylor Swift and Hamo look like nobodies. They have driven in parades for years.
Of course, and not being body shaming, Howdy is a little large even for a Crown, so Lee cut the windshield in half and cut off the roof, installed a yellow metal cattle gate as the passenger side door, and has longhorns as a hood ornament.
Lee’s other partner, Rhonda Meyer, told me: “The amount of money that he’s spent on this whole darn project between the car and the bull I could’ve had a brand-new kitchen.” Jealously is a curse, Rhonda. Anyway, Captain Chad Reiman said there were clearly some traffic violations related to Meyer’s car, but the officer let him off with a warning as long as he turned around and took Howdy Doody home.
It rained then it didn’t and then it did at last Sunday’s F1 at Clogworld. So that combined with the narrowest pitlane outside Monte Carlo, Juan-les-Pins and North Bondi and Ferrari’s appalling pit crew (“You’re coming in for what? Oh tyres! Let me run over to Jax and see if they have four wets in our size.”) Commentators will tell you the racing was close. Given the prangs, the safety cars and the weather of course it was. Didn’t worry Mad Max, who could take out the world title in Japan in a few weeks. Didn’t worry the world’s oldest F1 racer, Ferdy Alonso, and Pete Gasly, who took out first and second of the losers, nor Hamo, who drove an unbelievable race into sixth.
Next stop is the historic Monza circuit this weekend where Ferrari will finally take the Italian solution to every problem, new clothes. Forget downforce. “With a healthy splash of yellow, both the car and the drivers will be decked out in honour of the Le Mans victory.” Yup take every win wherever you can get it.
Total auction sales were down $100m at Monterey this year. Sell through rate was a low 68 per cent. Even the top seller, a 1967 Ferrari 412P at Bonhams, went for $16m below expectations at $42m. Another Fezzer, a1964 Ferrari 250 LM at Sotheby’s, reached $24m but was passed in. Prices for Porkers were all over the place. Pre-war cars did really well but bottom line, the market only wanted perfect cars.
Here’s the red flags I’ve been warning you about. Got some less than great classics in the portfolio? Time to punt them.
Lotus Brisbane’s Craig Rose and I will be donating a couple of grand to Small Steps 4 Hannah. Small Steps was set up by the parents of Brisbane mum Hannah Clarke. Hannah and her three kids – Aaliyah, 6, Laianah, 4, and Trey, 3, were killed in February 2020 by her husband. Small Steps 4 Hannah raises funds to support victims of domestic violence. You can donate here: HALT domestic and family violence (smallsteps4hannah.com.au)
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