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Home > Articles > KruzIn Park > Clutch Chatter: Motorburg Interviews the Auto World's Movers & Shakers
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| If the term "diggin’ the dirt" means "airing peoples’ dirty laundry" to a social lion, then it might mean "doing a smoky burnout" to a hot rodder. Different strokes for different folks (which may be a matter of cubic inches to a motorhead). At any rate, Clutch Chatter is all about people talkin’. Whether it’s an interview with some famous gear cruncher, or candid opinions overheard deep in the pits, Motorburg will try to bring you the skinny (straight or otherwise) on things happening around the automotive world in general. |
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| For our initial installment, we’ll be one-on-one with one of the originals in American automotive culture. The ubiquitous (some-call-him-Sir) Cedric Snewth was making it all happen along with the other rod & custom innovators before computer tech, man in space and even Rock’n’Roll in stereo. Here’s a personal peek into the man’s colorful past... |
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Motorburg -- So, Cedric, thanks for giving us this opportunity to talk with you. It's truly an honor to be able to spend some time with one of rod & custom's original thinkers. We’ve all heard of your exploits, but just how far back does that involvement go?
Cedric Snewth -- Well, you might say that I was around when the NHRA was for squares.
MB -- You don’t look that old. How can you have been involved for so many years?
CS -- It’s not the age... It’s the mileage. I had a model airplane piston for a pacifier.
MB -- Are you saying you were a "born rodder"?
CS -- Born and bred. My father was a race car driver, and my mother was a trophy girl. They tried to tell everyone I was born with gasoline in my veins.
MB -- Ha, ha.. Of course that wasn’t really the case.
CS -- Not exactly. Back then, real race cars ran on alcohol... But, that’s another story.
MB -- Speaking of stories, there are certainly a lot of them about you that are floating around. Are they all true?
CS -- Well, it’s just like everything, I guess... Some are lies, and others are legend.
MB -- What about the story of how you created the first rhythmic repeating pattern stylized flame paint-job? |
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CS -- Well, that coulda been. Because originally, my giant and colorful overlapping buzz-saw paint patterns on construction vehicles coulda been misinterpreted by others, and they mighta figgered the oversized saw teeth were flames.
MB -- What about the first freehand striping patterns? Didn’t you invent those?
CS -- Well, I guess that’s also a matter of interpretation. I remember back when a bunch of us guys were all hangin’ at my dad's shop, droppin’ a few brew... Dutch was there too... while I was still working. I was finishing up a straight-line striping job on a Rolls Royce. Well, this pesky gnat kept buggin’ me... Circlin’ and swirlin’ around my work surface and stuff. I got real irritated about it, I guess. So’s when that damn bug lit just ahead of my brush while I was pullin’ a line, I just ran after him with the brush still draggin’, and when I finally caught the little piss-ant in my wet brush, I had created the wildest striping pattern anyone had ever seen.
MB -- Well, I can see why they call you a madman.
CS -- Madman... Hell, you ain’t seen nothin’ til you watch me try to tune eight Strombergs on a full race flathead.
MB -- What about the freehand airbrushed T-Shirt? Did you have a hand in that bit of innovation?
 CS -- You know, back in those days, the T-shirts we wore were blank, with the sleeves rolled up. But airbrushin’... Well, that was what we used for other things... Like illustratin’, and sign design... But one night, when a bunch of us guys were celebratin’ the flyin’ of the eagle, we were all at the shop as I just finished my last sign for the day. I guess I had a too much black One Shot left in my Paasche, because I just kinda went on paintin’, totally groovin’ with some John Coltrane on the hi-fi. I was decoratin’ the table, then the stool, then the damn compressor... Hey, when one of the guys watchin’ me didn’t move quick enough, I ran right up on his crummy sweatshirt, and danced a while between his shoulder-blades. We was all havin’ fun, so he just held still and giggled cause it tickled. But when it was done, he had a shirt that looked like Salvador Dali’s best nightmare. We all had a laugh with that one, mainly because when he pulled the shirt off so’s that it would dry, he had a duplicate design right smack on his bare back.
MB -- Was One Shot the kind of paint you used to airbrush shirts with in those days?
CS -- Nah... One Shot was for sign painting and stripin'. Once us guys figured there was a demand for this weird ol’ stuff, I started using paints that worked better on garments. Of course black was the mainstay, but it was real overpowering, so after a little experimentation, I shot some Day-Glo color, sorta random-like, around
the designs. That whole crazy look just kinda caught on.
MB -- Isn’t it true that the old paints contained a fair amount of toxic ingredients?
CS -- Yeah, I guess... They used to call our Prang Textile Ink "the black death".
MB -- Well, I suppose you cleaned that excess paint off your friend’s skin immediately.
CS -- Nah... He insisted that he wanted to leave it on. He was going to a party later, and he thought that load of art would be a good ice breaker.
MB -- Do you know how everything ended up for him?
CS -- Well, we heard about it a couple weeks later. He said he went to the party, but had to be taken to the hospital for a form of suffocation caused by clogged pores. Said he almost died, but that it was worth it.
MB -- Why’s that?
CS -- He said that when they removed his shirt, the look on the Doc’s face was worth
ten rides in the ambulance.
MB -- You mean because you painted that shocking scene over his entire back?
CS -- Not exactly... The Doc nearly fainted because he thought that whole huge design was a fresh tattoo.
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At this point the above interview came to an abrupt halt when Snewth spotted a Hollywood "suit" just outside the interview area. Cedric literally bolted for the door and virtually vanished. Snewth has been hounded by various shills, agents and movie producers who wish to make a film about his life, but, as Cedric told us earlier and off the record, he knows where something like that will lead. We can’t quote him here, but he’s indicated to us that the cinematic result of such a collaboration would be that they either unrealistically glorify you or they trash you.
So with proper respect to the man, not the legend, we’ll help Cedric retain his integrity and his privacy by excusing his disappearing act, and cover his tracks by saying farewell for now, and good luck, sir, in "keeping it real". |
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