Word: hunks
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...They won their spurs on dirt tracks where only the winner gets to eat, and grease clings to their fingernails. But now their brokers phone regularly, their names are printed in big block letters on the sides of their cars-and they owe it all to a 500-lb. hunk of aluminum, nickel and cast iron that is just as tough as they are: the Meyer-Drake Offenhauser engine. Force-fed by fuel injection, the Offy gulps methanol (wood alcohol) at the rate of one gallon every four miles. It has only two gears-low and high-and four cylinders...
...they sell rust-worn barbed wire from the farms, torn-up tracks from the railbeds and used appliances tossed out by housewives. They move mountains of junked cars into grasping incinerators that burn off paint, cushions and fixtures, then through presses that crumple each once pampered body into a hunk of tortured steel no bigger than a TV set. Because scrap goes back into the steel pot in a constantly revitalizing life cycle, almost every new car uses some steel from Model T days...
Neon & Sewage. A symbol of Tahoe's troubles is an eleven-story hunk of hardware with anodized aluminum trim called Harvey's Wagon Wheel Resort Hotel, which opened for business last week. Three hundred invited guests showed up for 24 hectic hours of freeloading fun in the public rooms and the gadget-strewn suites (each with its own bar). Upstairs was a great big polynesian-style restaurant, and downstairs was a great big gambling casino; across the street was another casino run by Reno's Bill Harrah and featuring Comedienne Phyllis Diller. Who could ask for anything...
...effective. The other Crusaders are Wayne Henderson, trombone, Joe Sample, piano, and "Sticks" Hooper, drums. On records, they are joined by Jimmy Bond, bass, and Roy Gaines, guitar. Lookin' Ahead demonstrates the group's versatility: the tunes range from Rimsky-Korsakoff's Song of India to Felder's Big Hunk of Funk, all played with drive and feeling. The ensemble work is as good as on the Crusaders' first record, Freedom Sound (Pacific Jazz PJ-27), and the solos lack the recording-studio stiffness of that alubum...
...seldom matched the visual bravura of The Trial. Much of the film was shot on one of the most spectacular sets a camera ever saw: the abandoned Gare d'Orsay in Paris. Once the great terminal was a cast-iron cathedral of transport. Now it is a colossal hunk of Victorian junk, a sagging cavern, dim and vast, that dribbles dainty stalactites of iron filigree: a world like Kafka's world, a dead world waiting for the wrecker's ball...