Great Teachers #3: Lifting Jackie Stewart with the Power of Empathy

               The day Jackie Stewart was demonstrating how Keke Rosberg “comes into the corner in a flurry of feathers and blood,” got off to a slow start.

Jackie looks for the source of a rattle, Judd looks for lunch

             We were at Laguna Seca there was a cold mist coming in from the Pacific making the track slick.  Stewart was driving the “New Ford Turbo Thunderbird” and the first test shots were not encouraging.  All we could see of the 3 time World Champion from the camera car were his carefully combed hair, forehead and eyebrows.
 
                  I was a Creative Director at JWT and Granger Trip was the creative director.  In other words, Granger was my boss, the capo di capi of creative directors at the largest agency in the world.  Granger was tall and gangly with a the deep resonant voice of a radio announcer and the kindness of a country doctor.  He spoke slowly with a clarity and simplicity and told the truth. He also had that rarest and most powerful trait, empathy; the ability to understand how the world feels to you.  He was the opposite of Don Draper and we all loved him. 
 
                   So what to do about Stewart sunk below the dashboard?  Ford was paying him truckloads of money, we only had him for the one day shoot.  So we didn’t want to piss him off.

Stewart in his day job

 
                Still, a cushion was necessary, not only to see his famous face, but also so the car didn’t look like a brontosaurus.
 
                   I thought, what the hell, take the bull by the horns, be direct and get the painful part over with.  Like "Jackie, I’m sorry you’re too short.  Here’s a cushion to sit on.”
 
                   Granger shook his head.  “Jackie,” he called out, “we’re not seeing enough of you in the camera.” 
 
                     “Oh,” the wee Scot said, “would you like me to sit on a cushion?”

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year

 The Blog is taking off for the Holidays.  May yours be warm and happy.

    In the meantime there's a ton of goodies here. Scroll down for the wacky wonderful Coneheads at Silverstone. Or the flip side of that madness to the days of dope and meditation in The Volvo Years.

         if you missed the all-time-record-breaking-hit- monster blog, The Real Allard Story:give it a click.  No, I lied; last week's  tribute to the women who are as"sweet as honey and smile at you like you're made of money," attracted even more hits. And If you missed the 1979 Polish Grand Prix now's your chance.

Or, click on bob judd on the top of this page or slip down the right hand column to click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky.   Or The Kythera Chronicles to shake hands with Barbarossa.

Or just cruise through the links on the lower right hand side of this page, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like  an excerpt from The Candle,  In Praise of the Belleville Midgets,  The Midgets of Belleville. Part II,  Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone, Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walkeris a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. 

       You wouldn't want to miss My Short Happy War in Afghanistan

 

             Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.

              Or Uncle John's Prayer.

               Or Clarence Judd Head-Butts a Truck.  Truck dies. That's a good one. 

             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story.

               Then Virgin calls, and Forrest goes to Hollywood to star with an Electric car. And Forrest does a shoot in bed with Virgin. That one is a lot of fun. 

                Although, you might want to take a look at Pheromone Dreams to see what they are doing in bed in front of a film crew. While you're there it's just a short hop to Nurse Pelvis. 

            Or take a dip in the world's largest concrete freshwater free municipal swimming pool.

           And for a fine rainy afternoon divertimento, click on my dance with a prima ballerina.

 

              For a tasty bite with bon mots check out my friend, Gerry Freeman's foodie blog as  Hungry Gerald.heads for London and Paris.

             Or go visit Elif Batumen, San Francisco's brightest and funniest writer, a fine lady to curl up with for a good read.  Here's Elif's homepage.

             Enjoy, Have a ball.  See you Monday, January 3.

Greg Moore

         I found these snapshots yesterday and they brought back the beautiful, graceful and funny kid who died at Fontana in 1999.  The captions are from an article I did on Greg winning the Indy Lights Championship in ‘94.

Morning Warm Up, Laguna Seca:  Coming up into turn seven the fast uphill turn before the Corkscrew, Greg Moore on a hot lap, flat out on nearly full tanks, dives inside to lap a back marker.  The lapee doesn't see Greg and turns in.

      Their wheels come within a whisker of interlocking as Greg moves up inside the slower car.  Greg lifts for an instant and turns into the curb, launching the car into the gravel.  The car bounds across the gravel trap, short-cutting the turn, hits the back of the curb, and launches, nose up, eight feet over the track.  Greg is twenty, on his way to taking Villeneuve's seat in an Indycar.  He said, in Vancouver the week before, "I'm just a normal guy in a high profile job."      

     Greg Moore won 10 of the 12 races breaking Paul Tracy's record of 9 wins in 14 races in `91.  More telling, Greg won 242 points out of a possible 264.  In a series where the cars are as equal as baseballs this is like hitting a home run ten out of twelve times at bat. According to Greg's race engineer, Steve Challis, Greg is "on track to be one of the great racing drivers of the world."

Picture a young Canadian accountant played by Peter Sellers, that long lugubrious face lit up from time to time with a wicked pickerel grin because he knows there's a naked lady behind the drapes.   He's bright, direct, funny and oh yes, he is quick.  As a goalie in high school, snatching slapshots out of the air, Greg was good enough for a shot at the NHL. 

    At fifteen, leading the finals for the 1990 North American Superkart Championship in Portland, he spun.  When he got back on the track he was 13 seconds down with 13 laps to go.  Greg broke the lap record on the next lap, and again and again.  He caught the leader on the last straight on the last lap, head faked left, went right to win the race and the championship.  A corner-worker came back to the paddock where the team was loading the kart back on the transporter.  "I know it sounds weird," he said,  "but in all my years at racetracks I have never seen anything like it.  I mean we all knew Greg didn't have a chance.  But when he came around again it was like there was this glow.  I know it sounds weird, but I don't know how else to describe it.  This glow."

            At Laguna Greg was third quickest on the Friday morning practice.   The whole team hates being third.  Owner Gerald Forsythe prowls the garage looking at Greg's car as if it needs a bath.  Towards the end of the afternoon qualifying session a full course yellow brought the cars into the pits.  When the course went green again, Greg was first out on the track.  The car didn't "glow" but I saw what the corner-worker in Portland was talking about.  A race car is a finely tuned instrument and when it is wound out the edge it has a buzz.  It vibrates between charging out of control and control, the will of the driver reigning it in and urging it on.  Greg broke the track record and pulled into the pits.   

        Qualifying Saturday was something else.  With three minutes to go, Alfonso Giafone breaks Greg's new track record.  Greg half a lap behind, breaks the record again.   Alfonso answers breaking the record again.  Greg comes across the finish line and he's not quick enough.  Steve Challis is on the phone with the news as the checkered flag drops.  Greg is on his last lap and Challis is saying You gotta go now. You're not on the pole anymore.  And it is what champions do under pressure.  Going farther, deeper and harder, and bringing the car home with the fourth track record in the last three minutes, over a 1.2 seconds faster than last year's pole.

   

Where to play while the blog is off fooling around

The blog is off  and will return Monday.  But if you missed the all-time-record-breaking-hit- monster blog, The Real Allard Story:give it a click.  And If you missed the 1979 Polish Grand Prix now's your chance.

Or, click on bob judd on the top of this page or click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky.   Or The Kythera Chronicles to shake hands with Barbarossa.

Or just cruise through the links on the lower right hand side of this page, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like  an excerpt from The Candle,  In Praise of the Belleville Midgets,  The Midgets of Belleville. Part II,  Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone, Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walkeris a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. 

 

             Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.

              Or Uncle John's Prayer.

               Or Clarence Judd Head-Butts a Truck.  Truck dies. That's a good one. 

             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story 

             You really should visit Hiltonpond.org for fabulous pictures of hawks and hummingbirds with the science to back up the beauty. And for a fine rainyafternoon divertimento, click on my dance with a prima ballerina.

 

              For a tasty bit with bon mots check out my friend, Gerry Freeman's death defying foodie blog Hungry Gerald.

             Or go visit Elif Batumen, San Francisco's brightest and funniest writer, a fine lady to curl up with for a good read.  Here's Elif's homepage.

             Enjoy, Have a ball.  See you Monday. Bob

Fooling around while the blog sleeps

                       The blog is taking the weekend off and will return Monday.  But if you missed the all-time-record-breaking-hit- monster blog, The Real Allard Story:give it a click.  And If you missed the 1979 Polish Grand Prix now's your chance.

Or, click on bob judd on the top of this page or click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky.   Or The Kythera Chronicles to shake hands with Barbarossa.

Or just cruise through the links on the lower right hand side of this page, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like  an excerpt from The Candle,  In Praise of the Belleville Midgets,  The Midgets of Belleville. Part II,  Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone, Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walkeris a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. 

 

             Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.

              Or Uncle John's Prayer.

 

               Or Clarence Judd Head-Butts a Truck.  Truck dies. That's a good one. 

             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story 

 

             You really should visit Hiltonpond.org for fabulous pictures of hawks and hummingbirds with the science to back up the beauty. And for a fine rainyafternoon divertimento, click on my dance with a prima ballerina.

 

              For a tasty bit with bon mots check out my friend, Gerry Freeman's death defying foodie blog Hungry Gerald.

             Or go visit Elif Batumen, San Francisco's brightest and funniest writer, a fine lady to curl up with for a good read.  Here's Elif's homepage.

             Enjoy, Have a ball.  See you Monday. Bob

Road Tripping With The Queen Mary

We saw a Pontiac Star Chief on eBay. "That's just like Daddy's car when I was a little girl," Kathryn said.  "He raced it once and won a turkey." This one was on a hog farm in Iowa.

The interior looked good on eBay.  And it was.

When we got it home in California, it had a lot of hog farm on it.  And a pond of water in the trunk.  We painted it and it cleaned up good. It was good for parades. We call her The Queen Mary. (click on these pictures to enlarge.)

 

Kathryn drove The Queen Mary around Laguna Seca Raceway

We drove it to Montana.  Our friend Tana rode in the back with the Xplode.

We had fried ice cream on the way

Kathryn had the old log bar restored

And got a preservation easement to make sure the ranch would always be a ranch.  The Queen Mary looked right at home.  There was a lot to celebrate

Kathryn gave a powerful speech on why land preservation matters

 We invited the neighbors over for a bbq

And we just had a ball.