havasu-cars-n-coffee – I like to write junk…

“COWBOY BOB” PETRI

“Before Bob passed away, I quietly asked him one evening, as Joleen and Dianne were talking, if he was prepared to meet his maker.”

I consider myself a low-key kind of guy rather than an “out there” person, as some folks like to be. In high school, the only classmates who knew my name were friends. In one class, midway through the year, I had an English teacher ask, “Are you a new student?”

Church finds me the same way. I’ll be the last to enter and the first to leave, which has been my modus operandi going way back. In the late 1950s, at around five years of age, I left Sunday School on my own to hike miles to a convenience store and buy a candy bar with tithe money. That incident is in a story I wrote called “Escape from Selmont Baptist.”

This article isn’t about me; it’s about a new friend I made and how unfortunate it was that we didn’t get to spend more time together. This lies more on my shoulders than anyone, because of being too reserved, even in belonging to my car club, Lake Havasu Mopars.

Bob Petri is the initiator of this club, and after my wife and I joined, he and Esther Smith-Arnst were the first to welcome us aboard. The club hosted several cruises and pizza get-togethers, and we attended a few events. I was starting to warm up to the members and felt comfortable talking cars, shop, politics, and even religion.

Bob Petri was an expert body man and car restorer, preferring Pontiacs and Oldsmobiles over all other makes. He did them all, though, and was recognized for his outstanding work by numerous trophies in his garage. His ‘man’s cave’ is like a museum, filled with model cars and model WWII airplanes hanging from the ceiling.

Joleen quickly became friends with Bob’s wife, Dianne, and, on occasion, I started to think solely for kidnapping her and Bob’s cute little dog, Lucy. My wife loves that dog almost as much as the one we lost. As time went on, we started going to Cars N Coffee with the club, which is held at Rotary Park behind the baseball fields on the first and third Sundays of each month.

I found Bob to be just the opposite of me, very outgoing and welcoming, although we both shared a love of automobiles and WWII airplanes, especially the P-38 Lightning.

When I asked Bob if he knew who Major Richard Ira Bong was, he immediately saw that I knew my P-38s. Major Bong was the top fighter ace from WWII, and he flew the P-38. I’ve been a P-38 aficionado going back to grade school.

Sadly, cancer took Bob from us, and Lake Havasu City lost a great supporter of this town as well as a beloved resident. At his memorial service at Leitz-Fraze, there were a good number of hot rods brought by Bob and Dianne’s friends and car club members.

Bob’s own navy blue and vibrant yellow Dodge Charger 392 Hemi Scat Pack was there, and I’m sure he was ‘looking’ down’ to make sure no one left fingerprints on the recently waxed paint. I wore an almost identical colored shirt that I’ve owned since the 1980s to commemorate my friend.

Before Bob passed away, I quietly asked him one evening, as Joleen and Dianne were talking, if he was prepared to meet his maker. With a smile, a grasp of my hand, Bob told me that he was. That brought a smile to my face. I want all of my friends to know Jesus Christ, and for those who don’t, this makes me sad.

I wrote a song for Bob titled “Cowboy Bob” Petri. It’s on YouTube, and if I can say so myself, it came out perfectly. I feel as if I had heavenly help with writing the lyrics.

In this song, I interject a little humor, saying that if there are garages in Heaven, Bob Petri is already making his bigger. Gearheads will know what I’m talkin’ about, especially those livin’ in Lake Havasu City. As much as I now know Bob, his garage will definitely be large enough to hold a P-38 Lightning.

Joleen and I are going to miss Bob but are happy that he made a life changing decision in choosing Jesus Christ, as Saviour. That is the most important decision that a gearhead, or any person can make!

Amen

T-SHIRT TRAVELS

“Several of my most interesting pieces of apparel come from, of all places, the local second-hand thrift stores.”

One thing I love about Lake Havasu City is that shorts and T-shirts are the attire of the day. I rarely wear anything else. You can’t differentiate between billionaires and the average Joe by the clothes they wear in this town.

For me, wearing shorts and tees hasn’t always been the case. In Alaska, there were summer days worthy of such, but these were short-lived. I sported them while cycling, but even then, long pants came in handy on rainy and windy days, which were often. Hypothermia was something I learned about in school, and I wisely avoided it.

My favorite tees are those designer ones purchased all over the globe. Lightning Bolt surfboard T-shirts were my favorite when I was young, and I still have the first one from Hawaii. It’s now in a shadowbox frame hanging in my garage as a memento of sorts. My daughter used it as nightwear, and I have a photo of her modeling things when Miranda was around four years old.

I’ve got a tee from the first ‘Street Machine Nationals’ in Tulsa, Oklahoma. This was in 1976, and it was the largest gathering of car enthusiasts, with well over 1,000 cars. That vehicle record was recently broken when over 3500 vehicles convened in Tulsa for a cruise.

Joleen and I still have sunburn scars from that Tulsa show 50 years ago because we didn’t wear enough sun protection. A year later, in 1977, in St. Paul, Minnesota, I picked up a shirt at the ‘Street Rod Nationals’. That one has moth holes in it yet is still packed away somewhere.

My wife and I have attended ‘The Run to the Sun’ here in town for more than three decades, and we still have plenty of shirts from those events. I wear the older ones on occasion, and I’m surprised at how many senior residents do the same.

These days, I’m always looking for unique newer shirts, with my latest purchase being a nice one featuring the Havasu Cars N’ Coffee logo, which takes place at Rotary Park on the first and third Sunday mornings here in Havasu from sunrise to 9.

Another recent purchase features Albert Einstein working on a small-block Chevrolet with a wrench in his hand. I’m not sure when that picture of him was taken. Several of my most interesting pieces of apparel come from, of all places, the local second-hand thrift stores. I’ve discovered shirts from events I would’ve liked to attend but couldn’t.

Harley-Davidson tees were my favorite for a while, but at close to $40 a pop, that fetish soon ended. One shirt that I have my sights on proclaims, “I welded and it helded.” Only mechanic types will get the humor here.

My Havasu ensemble now consists of around six pairs of shorts and approximately 200 T-shirts. Some ‘Run to the Sun’ golf shirts are also included with the collection.’ I don’t play golf in these, but I do wear them to special events and out to dinner.

During Alaska winters, I remember calling Randy Randall in Havasu several times, with him telling me how warm it was, and that he was wearing shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. He did this to ‘rub it in’ more than anything. These days, I can do the same, but so far have refrained.

The summer months have a majority of the specialty shirts with California locations, while the winter months have a plethora of shirts from different states. I like to read them whenever possible, yet then again, don’t want to be caught staring at folks, especially if it’s someone’s wife or girlfriend.

Perhaps the funniest shirt I’ve ever come across was worn by a woman with weight issues. She still had a sense of humor with her shirt reading, “I beat anorexia.” I wanted to laugh, but held back, not knowing whether to or not.

My most prized shirt with a humorous motif came from J.C. Penney here in town. I’ve gotten more comments on it than on any other. “I’m not trying to be difficult – It comes naturally.”

That saying seems to get truer for me with each passing year. Friends, family, and my wife will agree on that. I’ll take it as a compliment.

Cars, Coffee, Cats, and Cops

“Looking back at this event, Charlie Kirk would’ve been proud of me.”

Last weekend saw a slurry of activities in Lake Havasu City. The “Run to the Sun” car show took center stage from Thursday to Sunday, while an anti-Trump protest, called “No Kings,” along with a counter rally by President Trump supporters, made McCulloch Boulevard come alive on Saturday morning.

Sunday morning, besides church services being held throughout the city, “Havasu CARS N Coffee” was back at Rotary Park well before some churchgoers took their pews. Even though I was camping at Cattail Cove State Park, time was taken early Saturday and Sunday morning to drive back to town and take part in all venues.

The last rally I remember going to was my high school football homecoming game some 54 years ago. If I remember correctly, the East Anchorage High School Thunderbirds lost to the West Anchorage Eagles in that contest by five points. East had never lost a homecoming game for 12 years until finally going down to defeat.

The “No Kings” rally was something I wanted to attend, mainly because I was curious as to what it was about. At the beginning, I proudly stood with my US flag on the north side of McCulloch with other President Trump supporters. There were very few of the other team, but eventually a significant group showed up all at once. They were still far outnumbered.

One participant, eyeing my political shirt, abruptly attempted to start an argument, yet I was in no mood for such. Scurrying away from his profanity-laced comments, I found a spot as close to the road as possible. A fellow named Ed quietly walked up, saying that he lived in Needles, California, before politely asking why I supported Donald Trump.

Ed and I had a most friendly conversation. After learning that he’d been an engineer on the Burlington Northern-Santa Fe Railroad for 43 years, our conversation quickly shifted from politics and religion to work, with me mentioning that my late friend, John Ballard, had also been employed by BNSF, as was his father.

We shook hands before departing, but not before seeing a few Lake Havasu Police Department officers professionally orchestrate crowd control, calmly, yet sternly telling protestors to stay off the street. That was interesting to watch, with me making sure not to cross the road at that point, as my vehicle was in the old K-Mart parking lot. Looking back at this event, Charlie Kirk would’ve been proud of me.

“Havasu CARS N Coffee” meets in the parking lot behind the Aquatic Center in Rotary Park on the first and third Sunday of each month. This event takes place from 7 – 9, and admission is free. I decided to take my wife’s seldom-driven Dodge Hellcat as my old Chevy truck battery was dead.

A good number of vehicles were on hand to gawk at while I spent several minutes talking to Phil, one of the regular attendees. I didn’t bring cash, with Phil picking up the donation for a donut and coffee. I’ll pay him back at the next get-together. Besides Phil’s orange VW bug, my two favorites were a black 1954 Porsche 356 and an unmolested 1953 MGTD.

Lake Havasu City, this time of year, has activities each and every week. I have to say, though, that returning to the peace and quiet of Cattail Cove was something I needed, especially after attending that loud political rally on Saturday.

I’m thankful to live in a country where ‘peaceful demonstrations’ are legal—although I see little good they do. I’ll continue protesting at the ballot box and not with my mouth.

Unlike the 1971 East High Thunderbirds homecoming game, I’m glad my political team won this past election. As the late and great Kansas City Chiefs football coach Marty Schottenheimer often said, “Every point counts!” The same holds true regarding votes.