Kevin Nelson, Writer

 Posted 1/22/10. Last week’s blog on my adventures at a naked beach drove Annette Kaiser of San Jose, California, to her dictionary to find out the actual meaning of the word “doppelganger.” I confess I did not know what a doppelganger was when I used it to describe a certain portion of the anatomy of the fellows running around unclothed at Baker Beach in San Francisco; it just sounded funny to me. A doppelganger, says Annette, a dedicated crossword puzzler who knows her way around dictionaries, refers to a person’s “evil twin,” which makes the reference even funnier, I think.

Looking to go to Italy? And learn some Italian while you’re there? Do you have long-lost family relatives in Italy and need help in finding or contacting them? Beyond the Sights can do all these things for you—and more. It is a new travel business just begun by my very own bro, Dave Nelson. And when you get to Italy on a Beyond the Sights tour, these are the five Italian instructors who will be teaching you the language. Ciao, baby! 

 Steve Conlin, aka Steve the Bartender, dropped me a line the other day, saying that he has moved from the Los Angeles area—formerly he was a bartender for the stars, at the old Bel Air Hotel in Beverly Hills—to Las Vegas. You may recall Steve’s contribution to this column not long ago, his sharp recitation of the events surrounding actor James Dean’s death. Steve is “now appearing,” as he says, at Wynn Las Vegas. Next time you’re there, look him up and ask how a novel he is thinking about writing—“a Southwest desert noir novel concept featuring a bartender/detective character in the tradition of Philip Marlowe”—is faring.

Ever hear of streak running? Neither had I until I got a note from Nancy Shohet West, who is a writer and streak runner who has enjoyed my Runner’s Book of Daily Inspiration. Streak running is not running around with your clothes off, like those fellows at Baker Beach. It is, says Nancy, “ a term to describe people who run a mile or more every day without ever taking a day off.” Nancy does indeed run a mile or more every day, and she blogs and tweets about it with the same energy and enthusiasm she gives to her streaking. Last I checked, Nancy was up to Day #895 in her running streak, and that is in the Massachusetts snow.

By the way, let's hear it for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts! Way to go, brothers and sisters.

Last year Pearl Felson died at the age of 87, and her son Leonard decided to honor her life and memory by writing a blog. It’s called A Year of Kaddish, What a Year of Daily Praying Triggers Within and Without. Leonard is an old Hayward friend of mine who is now an esteemed journalist living in Hartford, Connecticut. He is Jewish, and he says that according to Jewish custom, “a spouse is obligated to say Kaddish [prayers] daily for one month; when a parent dies, the children say it for eleven months.” So his blog is a sort of year-long prayer for Pearl. But, he adds, it isn’t about his mother directly; it is also about his spiritual quest and life appraisal following her loss.

 Here in supposedly sunny California, we are experiencing big rains and wild storms, including tornados. But I know this is paltry indeed compared to a typical winter up in the frozen tundra of northern Minnesota where Travis Roste lives. Travis, a frequent contributor to this space, tells me that it has been “cold as a well digger's bum here lately. Until just this week when it warmed up, the last couple weeks were 10 to 20 below at night. Brrrrrrrrr.” That’s enough to freeze your doppelganger, all right. 

The Wheels of Change Road trip chugs on: This Wednesday, I speak to the always friendly folks at the Kiwanis club in Benicia and on Saturday, Jan. 30, I hit the road again for a signing at Autobooks-Aerobooks bookstore in Burbank. 

Posted 12/31/09. One of the great things about having a website is that people write me letters, and some of these people are from the FBI. Fans of Operation Bullpen may recognize the name of Special Agent Adam Lee, who worked on the case in San Diego and helped bust forgers and counterfeit dealers around the country. Lee has since moved east where he is an Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the Intelligence Division in the Washington, D.C. field office. But although you can take the FBI agent out of California, you can't take California out of the FBI agent, as this letter from Adam shows:

Kevin: During a Thanksgiving call from my family in California yesterday, I learned that you have a new book out. When I saw what your most recent work was about, I had to reach out to you; first to congratulate you and to share a quick story about my life with automobiles. As a kid growing up in California—and the son of a 1950s Los Angeles amateur drag racer—I bought my first car, a 1955 Chevy 210 business coupe, at the age of 13. I sold a home built go-kart and bicycle to pay for it. My father and I built the car together and had it ready for my 16th birthday. I drove the Chevy to high school everyday. Building that car with my dad and driving it as a teenager are the fondest memories of my youth. Eventually, I sold it to help pay law school expenses and have missed it ever since.

My love for cars seems to be programmed in my DNA. My son, who is eight, is already a classic car nut. Last year, we bought an old Dodge Charger together and I am teaching him how things work on it. This past summer, we put a fresh 440 in the car and he is always thrilled to hear it roar to life. My boy and I are very close and I am pretty sure he is collecting his own memories in our garage to enjoy later in life.

I am in Washington, D.C., now, as you know. I am living proof, however, that you can take the kid out of California, but you can't take the California out of the kid. Once again, congratulations. I enjoy your work very much and appreciate the subjects about which you write. Thank you once again, too, for your meticulous attention to detail covering Operation Bullpen. Take care, Adam

     I am, in fact, a big fan of the entire Lee family. When she was ordering some books from me, Adam's mother Patricia asked for some Wheels of Change flyers so she could include them in her Christmas card mailings. Sweet!

     Now, let me briefly share two more pieces of correspondence I recently received. One is from another Operation Bullpen reader who wanted me to sign a copy of his book. He sent it to me in the mail, and I was truly impressed. I have never seen a more well-read book in all my life, as this picture somewhat shows:

     I signed this book, and sent a new, fresh copy to him just in case the old one fell apart.

     Lastly, back to cars. Both my sons had a wonderful first grade teacher, Mike Mullikin, who gave Wheels of Change to his brother Tim, a self-described "huge car enthusiast." As proof of this, Tim sent me a picture of what is sitting in his driveway:

     Says Tim: "From left, the cars are: a red 1962 Ferrari replica, a 1998 Corvette (first year C5 convertible), and a 1973 Corvette Convertible. I am currently adding a 1966 Ranchero and a 1972 Mustang to the stable. Can never have too many wheels." Indeed. You can never have too many wheels, or bottles of champagne in the frig. Pop! Happy New Year, and let’s all have an auspicious 2010.

     P.S. Shameless plug: For folks in the Bay Area, I will appear on Denny Smithson’s talk show on KPFA on Monday, Jan. 4 at 3 p.m. For details about this and other Wheels appearances in January, see the News and Events box on the home page.

Posted 12-8-09. Elmer Botts saved my life on Sunday—or more precisely, Elmer Botts's invention saved my life. Who was Elmer Botts, and what was his invention? And how can an author who cannot talk give a book talk? For the answer to these questions and more, please read on:

     Thursday I spoke at the South Pasadena Public Library, in the city of South Pasadena, as part of a special presentation that began with the rock and country stylings of Cottage Industry, an acoustic four-piece band. Cottage Industry played a swinging half-hour set of car and driving songs that included "Route 66," "Take It Easy," "King of the Road," "Baby, You Can Drive My Car," "Pink Cadillac," and on my request, a rockabilly version of "Li'l Deuce Coupe." It was good clean fun. After the band finished, Steve Fjeldsted, the incredibly thoughtful and diligent librarian who organized all this, showed a clip from "Bullitt"—you know the one, where Steve McQueen in a green Shelby Mustang races after a Dodge Challenger over the hills of San Francisco in the greatest movie chase scene ever filmed. Afterward I did my thing for about an hour, talking cars to an audience of about 40 people, and when I was done I could barely talk.

     This was not, unfortunately, all that uncommon for me. At several of my talks in the past weeks my voice has gone hoarse by the end, although Thursday was the worst by far. By Friday morning, I could not speak above a whisper. With another speaking gig looming that night in Riverside, I sucked on throat lozenges, gargled with warm salt water, drank warm water with honey, tried Chloraseptic (apparently this is not always a good idea for those with laryngitis), ate oranges for the Vitamin C, and tried not to talk. (I have since learned, from my daughter, that a drink called "Throat Coat Tea" might have helped me.) But nothing much worked, and when I showed up at the Glen Avon Library in Riverside I sounded a little like Vito Corleone in "The Godfather," only not nearly as good.

     Luckily, Tracie Carignan, the librarian for the Glen Avon Library, and Kathryn Morton, the cultural events coordinator for the Riverside public library system, were there to reassure me. They, too, did a splendid job of organizing and promoting the event, and about a half dozen cool cats who lived in the area drove their custom cars and parked them outside the library before my talk, such as the smoking hot beast pictured here.

     We had another nice gathering of about 40 people—all of whom listened graciously to the speaker who made brilliant, incisive points while sounding disturbingly like a frog. I made it through, however, although I had no idea how I was going to handle my next set of appearances the next morning.

     At 8 a.m. Saturday, I was supposed to be at the Petersen Automotive Museum in Los Angeles to chat for a half hour with Josh Hancock, host of the Josh Car Radio Show. Then, at 9:45 a.m., I was scheduled to do a phone interview with Art Gould of The Car Show radio program, after which I was to do a signing at Autobooks-Aerobooks, a Burbank bookstore that is famous among car and plane fanciers for its vast treasury of auto and air books. Wanting to be close to the Petersen so I could get there quickly in the morning, I drove from Riverside and checked into the Motel Six in beautiful downtown Hollywood.

     Who knew that the Hollywood Motel Six was a major party hotel? Many twenty-somethings were there, roaming the halls, and they all seemed to be having a much better time than me. The loudest group occupied the room next to mine, and after efforts to get them to quiet down proved fruitless, I moved up to the fifth floor into a different room and became ill.      

     Well, actually, I knew I was sick as soon as I checked into the motel. Not sick as in the H1N1 virus or anything like that, but clearly, not good. I did not realize it at the time, but my sore throat was apparently an early warning sign that something was amiss. I took some Nyquil in the hopes of a magic turnaround the next morning. No such luck. When I woke up my nasal passageways felt like someone had packed them with Elmer's Glue, and I still could not talk. Being without a voice on the radio is generally not considered good form, so I made some quick calls to cancel my appearances, tossed all my gear into my car, and lit out for home.

     That was when Elmer Botts saved my life.

     It was on Interstate 5 in Kern County in the great San Joaquin Valley. I had left Hollywood about 8 in the morning, stopped for a muffin and some hot tea to get me going, picked up the 101, then switched over to the I-5 heading north. I passed through the San Fernando Valley and Santa Clarita, crossed over the Grapevine and then down it, and I was rocketing along the interstate at about 75 miles per hour when my eyes closed.

     I remember the moment precisely: the lids of my eyes fell shut. I was sick, I was tired and groggy, and I was probably suffering from a Nyquil hangover as well. When my eyes closed my car drifted from the right lane toward the center of the road where suddenly, gratefully, it hit some Botts Dots.

     Botts Dots, as they are called, are those hard, plastic bumps placed in the middle and along the sides of roads and highways. They're ubiquitous in California. I know about Botts Dots because I wrote about their originator, Elmer Botts, in Wheels of Change—on page 324, in a footnote. (A footnote!) In the 1950s Botts, a chemist with the California Department of Transportation, developed what he thought would be a pavement marker to help drivers see the lane stripes better at night and in bad weather. But when these raised and brightly painted markers were placed on the road, something unexpected happened: drivers ran over them and the jolt made them more alert behind the wheel. Botts Dots have since become a staple of transportation safety around the country and world, jolting sleepy-eyed drivers awake. 

     This is what happened to me: my tires rolled over the Botts dots and my eyes opened. I was falling asleep behind the wheel. Quickly I pulled off at the Harris Ranch exit, found a quiet parking lot behind a gas station, and took a nap in my car. Revived and feeling alert again, I drove safely the rest of the way home, where the loving arms of my wife and two sons greeted me. Thank you, Elmer.

     Next stop on the Wheels of Change road trip: Sunday signing, 1 to 2 p.m., California Automotive Museum (formerly the Towe Auto Museum), 2200 Front Street, Sacramento, 916-442-6802. It promises to be a capital event!

Posted 11-23-09. First and last thought: Happy Thanksgiving to one and all! More thoughts about cars, people, forgery, and other subjects:

Tomorrow I am going to San Francisco to be interviewed on The California Report on National Public Radio. It's a taped interview, so it will air in the Bay Area on Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, on KQED-FM 88.5 FM at 4:30 p.m./6:30 p.m./11 p.m. It airs on different channels and times around central and northern California. Consult the listings for your area here.

Last week I did an interview with Jeff Figler of the Sports Byline Radio Network, which broadcasts to 700 stations and 178 countries around the world through the Armed Forces Network. This was about Operation Bullpen, my book on forgery which continues to draw attention. (To the right is one of the gang's forgeries; all four sigs of John, Paul, George and Ringo are bogus.) I think the interview aired last Friday but I'm not quite sure. As soon as I find out I'll update this post.

I'm looking forward to my next round of book talks in southern California. Wherever I've gone, everyone has been very generous and welcoming, but I've got to give a special shout-out to Steve Fjeldsted, director of the South Pasadena Library where I will speak Dec. 3. Before my talk, Cottage Industry, a rock band, will play car and road songs for a half hour. Steve asked me for my favorites in this genre, so I chose three from the Beach Boys: "Fun, Fun, Fun," "Li'l Deuce Coupe," and "409." After the band's set, Steve will show a movie clip from "Bullitt," the famous chase scene with Steve McQueen burning rubber in a Mustang over the hills of San Francisco. Then comes my slide show and talk. For details on this show and my two other appearances next week in Riverside and Burbank, see the box to the left.

When you write a book, it's a little like hibernating in a cave. In the case of Wheels of Change, I hibernated for close to three years, mainly writing and reading and researching inside the walls of my office with occasional forays out into the world to see historic car spots, visit car shows, and drive the roads of the state. So it's especially nice to get out of my cave and see and talk to people. At the Pasadena Museum of History last week, I signed a book for a fellow who lived in the house in Pasadena where Walter Murphy had lived. Murphy was one of the great automobile coach builders of the 1920s, designing, among many other cars, the luxurious Doble Series E, one of the most beautiful steam automobiles ever made. I wrote about Murphy in Wheels of Change, and it was a thrill for me to meet someone with that close of a connection to him.

The next night, at the monthly meeting of the Mustang Owners Club of California Club at Du-Par's Restaurant in Granada Hills, a movie camera operator, now retired, introduced himself. He had worked on "The Godfather," explaining how he helped shoot the scene in which Sonny (James Caan) gets murdered, riddled by bullets in his car at the toll booth. A number of vintage cars are used in that scene, and one of them nearly ran over the operator (whose name, unfortunately, slipped past me) as it made its getaway.

At the San Diego Automotive Museum on Saturday, I spoke in the main showroom surrounded on all sides by gleaming old machines that once roamed the roads. Among the friendly faces I met there: Kenn Colclasure and Dee House of the museum, and Bernadine Bogdanovs, event coordinator for the Wheels on Reels film festival, which is devoted to the ongoing love affair between movies and cars. The films were shown at the Mary Pickford Theatre in Cathedral City next to Palm Springs. Mary Pickford and her husband Douglas Fairbanks both loved cars (especially Doug), and here is a picture of Mary with her Pierce Arrow, one of their many deluxe rides. Riding in back, Mary spoke to her chauffeur through a speaking tube that ran from the back seat to the front.