NTBA Summer Nats #1 July 16-18,1999 - Branson, MO

[WebMistress]

This is a prelude to the ode.The following is an account, as viewed by me and my pups, of the first NTBA Summer Nats. It was a very special time for us, I hope it was for all of you also. We met many nice people that we had been watching on the BBS, but there are many to yet meet. I've posted two odes before (also under my pen name)-this will the longest thus far, so if the others were either too long or boring, you might want to by pass this time around. This offering is for those that attended the Nats as well as those who were not able to attend. I apologize in advance for words lacking the capability of recreating the Nats as they occurred. There's nothing like attending the "Live Performance". The following mentions, though there are many, cover only a tiny portion of the "doin's" and individuals that starred in the "Performance" each day.

But, again I say, if you missed this Branson run, you missed a GOOD ONE!!

If you decide to proceed from here I now ask you to do three things: 1) fasten your seat belt, 2) proceed at your own risk and 3) try your best to make it to Branson next year.

ODE TO NTBA SUMMER NATS #1
(July 16-18,1999)

I can't believe it has already come and gone,
But while it lasted it came on strong.
I speak of the first ever Annual- Summer Nats,
By the National T Bucket Association, "Now that's where it's at!"

It was held in Branson, Missouri, a real neat place,
Where many different theatres occupy much space.
And roller coaster roads upon which my T could run,
Quickly convinced me that these NATS would be fun.

Arriving on Monday at four thirty P.M.,
Our room was ready, they said "Move on in".
Those people at the Barrington were really nice,
To praise them enough, my meager words would not suffice.


Got a call from the 'Prez' late that night,
Told him I thought these Nats would be "Out-a-sight",
Also, that when more T's arrived, I would be glad,
Sure 'nuf', Tuesday morn brought Harold Blackford, son Evan and their C-Cab.

Later that morn I met the 'Prez' face to face,
I could tell that he was locked into an incredible pace,
Cause I met him in the K-Mart, that was the place,
Getting goodies for games like he was in a race.

When asked about a computer to use he quickly replied,
"You can use one of mine upon which I have daily relied".
So, me and the pups, for headquarters did start,
Where, upon arrival, ODE TO COLORS I did impart.

Then came Wednesday and with it more T's,
Each on its own, blending in with ease.
It's hard to remember who arrived and in which order,
Nor, who on their trip had crossed which border.

As Thursday came around things started to jump,
It began making my ol' heart really pump.
Each car that arrived had a story of its' own,
One had to ask the owner, for the details to be known.

All of a sudden, red and yellow were not an issue,
Not in the presence of all that varied 'T' tissue!
As each car came in its attributes got full attention,
With lots of camera shots to aid in retention.

I think it was on Thursday that the 'Blues Brothers' first came,
And man! Did these guys ever look the same,
As the original ones appearing on the silver screen,
It took me back to old times, it does seem.

They came back each day driving their black and white,
And eventually rode in two T's that took flight.
Can't get over how much they looked the part,
I kept thinking, "Any moment the movies gonna start!"

Then Fred showed up with his Wenol T,
Man, this is a site you've got to see.
Building this car was certainly not painless,
Cause it's made of polished chrome, aluminum and stainless.

Ray Ferguson drove in from Alvin, Texas, just below Houston,
And the story he told me gave my faith in 'Bucketheads' a great big 'boostin'.
Seems that he, his friend and two wheel trailer did go,
Straight into a tremendous rainstorm, don't you know.

They quickly started to look for a pail,
Cause, it was clear, they were gonna have to bale.
Then something else grabbed their attention,
Engine power to ground suddenly had no retention!

The RPM's went up and the MPH's came down,
This is when one's seat usually starts to turn brown.
Ray didn't quit, cause no problem was gonna make him hide,
Although a diesel almost ran over him as he was stranded at roadside.

It turned out to be a broken axle which didn't stop him,
Out of a '57 Chevy, no less, try to find one of THEM!
A friend 'hot-shotted' his '57 axles to Ray,
That guy must have a little 'Buckethead' in him, I'd say.

By Friday most of the T's were finally here,
Each with its' own personality did appear.
Some with fenders and some without,
Running here and there and all about.

I was checking out tire sizes, the 'littles' and 'bigs',
When a guy walks up and says, "Hi, I'm Jiggs"!
I'll tell you one thing, he's a real 'live wire',
When it concerns T's, he never seems to tire.

Blown T came in with two friends and three T's,
With a story about how this evidently did please,
Other travelers who smiled or sometimes held mouth agape,
Boy, I wish he could have gotten that on tape!
And, I'm still seeing the kids sitting on the seat,
Smiling and laughing, it was an obvious treat.
They looked like they were ready to drive down the street,
That has led me to a question and an answer I must seek.
When it comes time to crank it up and make the tires spin,
Gary, be honest, will those little kids let you get in?

Some of the T's each day as they ran about,
Had incredible sounds beyond that of stout.
Giving the audible warning, "I'm a NASTY one",
They could probably give Bernstein a good run!


Bob Bond was there with brushes under tent,
And beside him, up another tent went.
It was the Gearheader Tent with Sunny to boot,
For this magazine, let's support and root.

Sunny had already introduced me to Mikester and his wife,
You could'nt find two nicer people if you searched all your life!
For Mike and Janet's 'T' I really took a liking,
The color and set up was really quite striking!

When Punkun arrived there was work to be done,
He had to work on his engine, for it to better run.
And guess who stepped up and offered him some shade,
It was Sunny with her tent, comin' to Punkun's aid.

While Cartoon Bandit, from the hour one,
Did go about having mechanical fun.
Working on one car and then tuning another,
Treating everyone as if they were his brother.

Lugnut came in with Lisa beside him,
Having put some nine hundred miles behind them.
Ridin' or drivin', that's a long way in a 'T',
For those doing that, lots of lauder should be.

Parked next to me was POKRPRO,
Who would soon be 'carless' as some of you know.
For he sold his 'T' before leaving the coast,
So , there it sat, in wait of new host.

Came Friday night at the Steak & Shake,
The 'Hula-Hoops' were so hot they almost did bake!
With burgers and shakes and all that stuff,
I think everybody got pretty well filled up.

Then an easy cruise back to the Barrington to rest,
So that we might rise early Saturday to continue the fest.
But, more happened after we all went to bed,
And little was known about it until later it was said.

Had many of us thought about the safety of our ride?
Parked in a lot where all sorts of harm could hide.
Eman sat in the parking lot well into the night,
To make sure each and every 'T' was completely all right.

I don't know about you, but that impresses me,
To have a 'Sarge' like that, how lucky can we be?
As stated before, he's a great guy but carries a BIG STICK,
But the NTBA members are nice, he'll not have to administer a 'lick'!

The sunrise on Saturday brought on the best day of all,
For multitudes of spectators, viewing our T's did call.
Their reactions said to me, "We're having a ball!"
And I suspect that some, with our cars, in love did fall.

Many times our T-Buckets get little consideration at all,
The aloof and negative attitudes attempt to fill us with gall.
But, I've yet to meet a Buckethead that didn't stand tall!
To watch Bucketheads soak in compliments, for me THAT was a 'Ball'!

After noon there were T-Bucket rides for taking a trip,
Down Branson's famous Highway 76 strip.
And about one o'clock a T-Bucket Rodeo starts,
To be held at different places and in four separate parts.

It included 'T-Bucket Hockey' and a 'Canoe Paddle Race',
A 'Club Meeting' and 'Roar of the Engines' requiring lots of listening space.
'Roar of the Engines' was won by Russ and Kathy Gore,
When comparing decibels to decibels, they had MORE!

Back at the Barrington, the remaining part of the day,
Upon our 'T's, the spectators eyes continued to play.
A special dialog between Bucketheads and spectators did intertwine,
Again I say, "Watching all that made me feel real fine!"

A little bit later it was time for a break,
To get ready for a little trip we were gonna take.
To the Branson Mall Music Theatre for a nice show,
Called "50's AT THE HOP", that's where we did go!

Then somewhere around ten thirty or there about,
Most Bucketheads returned to the Barrington to sort of 'hangout'.
All waiting to 'form-up' for something that promised a lot of 'kicks',
That being an escorted 'MIDNIGHT CRUISE DOWN HIGHWAY 76'!

Then Da' Pilgrim called out to get everybody's attention,
And all of a sudden, all conversations went into suspension.
Cause most Bucketheads there had anticipated what Dave would mention,
When he shouted out, "Ladies and Gentlemen-Start Your Engines!"

Then came the 'Piece de resistance',
Complete with all the correct audible fonts,
As each engine did get an individual vote,
When it started up and loudly cleared its' throat.

There are no words to describe that sound,
Which definitely caused vibrations in the ground.
One could say that there was an unmitigated roar,
Traveling further and higher than an eagle could soar.

Can't tell you how, upon a measuring instrument, that sound would lay,
But, I can tell you that, strongly upon my eardrums it played,
And no less excited my Pups, who did turn to me and say.
"Come on, get our T started, let's get under way!"

That enormous sound was condensed at the 'start',
As each T moved forward, in line, preparing to depart.
Seventeen thousand cubic inches of sound, more elongated got,
As each individual T exited the once full parking lot.

There seemed to be an endless ribbon of T's,
And, my oh my, how they created a breeze,
Each with pedal to floor with ease,
And the front of the Barrington was continually seized,
With the unmistakable sound each T did leave,
As, toward Roark Valley Road, T after T would scream,
Taking only two seconds to get there, it did seem.

We drove for a while and then parked in a line,
Until, in a short while, our escorts said, "It's time"!
Starters hit and our cranks again did spin,
At last, our 76 cruise was about to begin!

As our T's crawled onto 76 in that very long line,
One could occasionally hear a big ol' blower 'whine'.
Then we noticed, that on both sides of the street,
People were standing and cheering, now wasn't that neat!

Yelling compliments and niceties, yes they did,
I think that elevated many a Buckethead's id.
Cause, pleasantly upon our ears those words did lay,
Sinking into our memories, permanently to stay.

I saw KS leave one second worth of that unmistakable tire to pavement aroma,
Then one of Branson's finest advanced on Kevin, to present him with a diploma.
So his eyes sought out the contents of this presentment, for it was truly impressive,
And there he read, "This citation has been given for noise that was 'excessive'"!

Me and the Pups don't mind excessive, it's that word 'noise' we've got trouble with,
Cause to us it means that, with the road, those tires were just starting to fit.
And don't be bugged at Kevin for his little 'mandatory pit stop',
For if other Bucketheads had been caught, the same paperwork they would've got.

The remainder of the cruise went without event,
Except for blessings that the spectators verbally sent.
And an occasional renewal of that 'tire aroma' thing,
Through which a few Bucketheads took a 'mini-second' fling.

Back to the Barrington some of us flew,
But, others still had more cruisin' to do.
Later, as we quietly tucked the night into bed,
Each Buckethead sought the place, to rest ones' head,
With 'ear fondling' sounds of T's, one by one,
Returning from their 'extracurricular' cruisin' fun.
Leaving few hours before an ascending sun,
For the last day of this first annual 'T-Bucket Run'.

On Sunday morning was a scheduled devotional,
Which, sometimes for me, can be emotional.
Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't need a 'hanky',
But, as he sat at my table, I got to meet 'Spanky'!

It was nice to see all those Bucketheads in attendance,
Perhaps for them, as me, it will offer remembrance,
Of a part of this overall first time event,
And how smoothly everything truly went.

BC brought the message, and to the family he did allude,
That it was the foundation of our nation, which should not be misconstrued.
And, how the people he had met at Branson, by then, numbering a lot,
Were starting to blend together, it was like a family they had got.

Most of these Bucketheads had never met each other before,
So many friendships were formed that it would be impossible to keep score.
And that, in loving our cars, the Lord does not call that a sin,
So long as we don't make a mistake and put our T's ahead of him.


Until that Sunday I had not considered the origin of Spiritcars name,
No, to tell the truth, I had never even asked whence it came.
But, BC with Bible suddenly put thoughts in my brain,
Linking the Author to Spiritcars was like one and the same.

I hesitate to mention the following to you,
But, perhaps it's happened to at least one of you to,
Like when me and the pups, cruzin' in our four wheel 'Can',
Got the feeling that our Lord and Savior might be a T-Bucket fan.

Cause we think he's been with us or his angels instead,
As we have often, down the highway sped.
Helping shift the old four speed along the way,
And more than once, steering us from 'harm's way'.

There is one more thing that MUST be mentioned,
For days and days there had been contention.
It had long since been scheduled to take place,
That being the ol' 'Red and Yeller' race!

Cartoon Bandit on the Red, Da' Pilgrim on old 'Yeller',
There was a competitive smile on the face of each 'feller'.
About the race, I doubt that anyone did surmise,
That's why everyone that watched got a real big surprise!

Sunny with flag was in between the two cars,
Behind each one in turn, were three track stars.
Cartoon Bandit and Da'Pilgrim were at the opposite end of the track,
And toward their T's each had turned his back.

Sunny dropped the flag and away they went,
Toward their cars in a backward sprint.
Into his car each driver did jump,
Turning the key, with accelerator pedal to pump.

Each engine exhaling via headers revealed it to be a 'thumper',
With nourishment being fed by four Webers and one Double Pumper.
Now each three man team had to push their car,
To the finish line which was pretty far.

Each driver had to put the transmission in neutral,
That had been agreed upon and was completely mutual.
But, what's this? Cartoon Bandit's was in reverse,
His three man team suddenly found that perverse.

I guess by the time he had corrected,
Cartoon Bandit must of felt kinda' dejected.
'Ol' Yeller' had beat him by the length of one car,
And I know he wanted to make Red the star.
But, besides all this, the drivers are still friends,
For this is not where the story ends.
Cause they one time shared their dreams,
That's where the NTBA came from it seems.

The 'Drive Through Awards' ended Sunday afternoon,
And anticipations had already began that soon.
Concerning the two thousand NTBA SUMMER RUN,
Everybody be there, it's gonna be FUN!!!!!!

Herman T. Quackenbush 8/15/1999

(aka T-Pilot with Pups)