Nov 16/07

I don’t want to alarm or frighten anyone but there is an imposter among us. This was not a Halloween prank.  It’s true and it’s scary. Well, scary might be an exaggeration but it is true. Here’s the story…

In the late 1970’s Betsy Smith, Scott Spenser, Phil Strudwick and myself founded the Sportsmen Racers Association. Our objective was to provide a quality race program for drivers with stock, super-stock, modified production and comp eliminator drag race cars. I was honoured to be named the association’s president. We offered a self-regulated race day program to the track operator that included our own tech inspections. For this position we hired Joe Olynik who was certified by the National Hot Rod Association. At the time I had a super-stock Camaro but decided that my effort at the track would be better spent announcing and promoting our association and its members. My business partner Milo Finnie drove the car.

At a Dragway Park, Cayuga, Ontario race, Milo went a couple of rounds so Joe asked him to pull the car on to the scales for an inspection and folks, I was busted. Unknown to Milo I had some suspended ballast in the car that aided weight transfer and traction. This was illegal and getting caught was embarrassing. The president of the association was a cheater. When confronted by Joe I defended myself with the first thought that came to mind, I called him an A-Hole! My attempt at intimidation did not work. Joe thrived on confrontation. Milo and the super-stocker were disqualified and I was humiliated. A couple weeks later I ran into Joe while walking through the pits. We were going in opposite directions. When he spotted me he pointed and in a louder than necessary voice proclaimed “There’s Bogus Bob.” Well, it actually sounded kinda neat and not all that derogatory and sort of described who I was. It made it easy for people to get my attention. Yell out Bob and a dozen guys might look around. Yell out “Bogus” and you get me, the real thing, the one and only. At least that’s what I thought up until a few weeks ago.

You see, I have a personalized license plate on my 1927 Model T hot rod that says “BOGUS”. I purchased the plate in 1983 and since it was the original it has no prefix or suffix, just plain “BOGUS”. And now about the imposter. Three weeks ago I got an invoice from the 407 ETR administration who manage the toll road that goes through Toronto, Ontario. It showed that I used the road between a couple of interchanges and the invoice showed the plate number as “BOGUS”. My 27 T hasn’t been out of the garage since my daughter Carey got married a year ago. Are you getting scared? Ok, I’ll continue. I called them up to explain the error. A facilitator brought up the image taken by the toll road cameras on his computer screen and tole me it did say “BOGUS” on the plate. I asked him if the car looked like a 1927 Model T Ford. Now I don’t know if a guy at a call centre with an Asian accent would know a Model T Ford from a double hump camel but he was kind enough to enlarge the image. “Oh, just a minute” he said, “there is a number “4” before the word; we have made a mistake in billing you.” He apologized for the error and said that a credit would be sent. I thanked him and asked if he could give me the imposters, I mean plate owners, name, phone number or address. He said he couldn’t and the conversation ended.

So there you have it and here’s the deal. I want all my fans and friends to be careful. Be vigilant and avoid confronting this fraudulent impersonator. If you’re approached by someone who is well dressed, well mannered and appears to be coherent, then it is clearly not me. Remember, I’m “Bogus”, I’m the Northern Force and I love you all.

In other “Force” news, this just in…John crashed. Well Holy S*#&! You would think we were in the throes of Armageddon to listen and watch the National Hot Rod Association news machine in action. I know I have been tough on John Force and his empire but give me a break. John’s reputation and popularity was founded on his tenacity and fearless driving skills. To drive these cars one has to accept some of the risk and danger that goes with it. John often uses the phrase “bottom line”. Well let me tell you, in spite of the multi-million dollar Eric Medlen Project that is devoted to building safer cars, John’s “bottom line” is still winning races. The fact that John Force Racing funny cars appear to be the only ones coming apart and causing injury tells me that the team is experimenting with the cars structure and inadvertently compromising the integrity of the chassis. I think they are trying to create a chassis that absorbs some of the energy caused by tire-shake, to decrease the chance of the tires going up-in-smoke. I have sketched out some ideas of my own on this technology but always come to the same conclusion…a weaker chassis.

Now listen, I am not anti-John Force. Actually, the similarities between myself and John are numerous. Every time A&E airs a “Driving Force” show, my wife and kids laugh at our parallel styles. Maybe that’s why I can’t stand all the politically correct rhetoric about safety coming from this guy. I think John is really messed up right now. I’m not minimizing the death of Eric or all the hurt that must be felt at Force Racing. But keep it in perspective. We don’t need to hear a commercial announcement after every pass that Eric is “riding along” or “looking down”. This public display is diminishing Eric’s death. John is playing some cards that I’m uncomfortable with. It seems like he is trying to control the future design of the nitro funny cars. I don’t want our sport to go the way of NASCAR with “clone” cars that leave little room for innovation and engineering.

We have more deaths in the province of Ontario in a season of snowmobiling, than motorsports in a year, “bottom line”. If the west-coast panty-waists can’t handle the pressure of driving a nitro funny car I know some east-coast guys that would love to fill your shoes and put the “machismo” back into the class, that defined it.

This fall was a tough time for some of our drag racing friends and families. We remember the beautiful Kendall Hebert and the tragic way that we lost her a year ago. At Grand Bend Motorplex I attended a tribute race that my friends Bill and Peggy McLeod put on for their son Kurt who was killed a year ago. You know folks, there’s no way that parents should have to burry their kids. It’s a tough world and I moan and groan as much as anyone but when I consider the hurt that the Hebert’s, McLeod’s and so many others have faced, I am so thankful that all my kids sat down with Gloria and I for Thanksgiving dinner. And yes, I did say a prayer of thanks.

You folks look after each other.

Bogus