Doc Austin
11-21-2005, 08:49 PM
Motorsports Oddity #10
Joe Zimmerman And The Beast
Joe Zimmerman was the most ordinary looking man you could ever meet. I don't mean he was not a good looking man, I just mean he looked like Joe Average. He looked completely straight and was all business. He's the guy you see walking in the background in the movies, or the guy at the races standing on the other side of the fence and looking the other way while a crash is happening right in front of him. He was just sort of, errrrr, invisible. You saw so many people like Joe Zimmerman that they all sort of ran together.
Well, until I got to know him, that is. He is probably going to go down as the wildest man I have ever known, and I later discovered it wasn't just with R/C airplanes. We would travel around the country racing our 200mph R/C planes. As the bad boys of the sport, it was only natural that we would visit a men's club somewhere along the way. I can't really go into it here, but remember that he was one wild character.
And there are other stories, but they are best left untold. He was just plain evil with firecrackers.
Joe Zimmerman's specialty was mischief by steath.
He got to be pretty good at flying, and one day he showed up at the flying field with a 220mph formula One pylon racer, just to burn the field up. I thought the safety patrol was going to go into siezure over that one,
but he never got into any trouble because no one ever saw him as anything but Joe Average. I was cocky and cheezed off the establishment. He loved to make them crazy with rage, but they never knew he was doing it on purpose. He was sort or............errrrrrrrrr, invisible.
We were really an odd couple.
The pylon racers were the bad boys of the sport, so it was natural we ended up on the circuit where we fit in with the rest of the lunatics. It was the middle of a long season and I was in the thick of the championship battle with a real shot. Joe was just getting his start, and wasn't really competent enough to be competing at this level.
But he wasn't above cheating, installed a .51 sized engine and put a .40 head on it, so it looked legal. It was utterly the fastest thing anyone had ever seen and Joe was fighting for his life every time he flew it. He couldn't even hold the thing at a constant altitude on the straights. The thing screamed along going up and down like a roller coaster and scared the crap out of everyone. He would lose control and fly over the pits at low altitude and send everyone scattering for their lives. You know, I look back and laugh, but it was really pretty dangerous stuff.
My friend Bob didn't travel very well. He would come to a race and all he would do is spent the day in whatever facilities were available. We normally teamed up because it takes a flyer and a caller to race, but that day, he was so sick he never raced. I ended up with Joe instead.
I managed to get Joe to calm down a little. I made a few adjustments to the plane in practice and it was much more docile to handle. But, lord, it was some kind of streak. It would blast down the back stretch and you could almost see a shock wave coming off it. I would lay it up on it's wing around turns two and three and it felt like the thing was going to rip the transmitter out of my hands. The thing was just plain scarey.
So we went through a couple of rounds and Joe won them all. At the end of the day, he, two other guys and I were tied with perfect scores. And we always handled that the right way....we lined up and we raced for it.
I had to team up with another guy, and the guy Joe got wasn't very good at keeping him calm. Joe was back to the porpoising on the straights, and he was so all over the sky that none of us even dared to try and pass him.
Joe had his moment in the sun, but it was just a moment.
He was finally so exhausted and confused by the beast and the pressure that he lost control, clipped a pylon and then another plane which exploded, the debris of which took out yet another plane and mine too. After than, there was no stopping what was left of Joe's flaming plane and it slammed into the outhouse at full steam, nearly knocking it over.
And of course Bob came rolling out with his pants around his knees and cursing. But when he found out it was Joe, well, no one can get angry with such an ordinary man, right?
Every single plane in the race was taken out in the incident. One guy just laughed uncontrollably, but the other guy was furious and screaming and cursing and stoping up and down. But because Joe was so ordinary, so invisible, the guy was furious with me at the one time I was actually haplessly innocent! The officials moved between us as the man became more verbal and animated.
Joe moved silently to the sidelines and wore the cheshire grin.
The heat was stopped (heck, no one was left anyway) and it was decided to go back one lap and call it over. Of course, that was when Joe was still in the lead, so finally got to win a big race. Joe and I stood there befuddled, staring at each other as the debris from all the destroyed airplanes fluttered down on us in the gentle spring breeze. I'm not sure if we were proud of ourselves or not.
Joe did a little dance when they handed him the trophy. It was the wildest thing anyone had ever see him do. Everyone but me, that is.
OK, OK, OK, one more Joe Zimmerman story, but just one.
Yeah, Joe was evil with firecrackers, but it only came about as a matter of self defense. We had some guys at the field throwing firecrackers right behind unsuspecting people and since Joe was such an unlikely chracter, so benigh and ordinary, they got him a couple of times.
Well, one day was it. We flew out the day until it was just us and the firecracker perpetators. They were sitting there having a beer (they were done flying, so that was ok) and laughing about their pranks when Joe sneaks up behind them.
Joe was an excellent marksman.
They never saw it coming when Joe stood two feet behind them and unloaded the entire clip of his .45 into the ground.
One guy got up and fell all over himself, and when he got up again the entire front of his pants were soaked. The other guy just stood there and sobbed uncontrollably.
Joe loads another clip into the gun, smacking it home with the palm of his hand like Magnum would do. Then the evil grin spreads over his face as he pulls the slide back and lets it snap back into place with an audible "CLICK!"
"Any questions?"
Epilogue: When I quit flying Joe and I sort of drifted apart. His kids were getting older and he needed to spend time with them. I was off to the Carribean chasing sharks and women, so we sort of lost track of each other for a few years. We didn't love each other any less. Our lives just took us different directions from each other.
One day years later, Joe stopped by and we visited for a few hours. We made plans to get together the next day, ironically the Friday before 9/11, but I never saw him again. He died getting out of his car when he got home that day.....oddly for what the coroner says is no reason at all.......none. He sat down, leaned against his car and checked out.
I still miss him. I imagine wherever he is, he is trying to talk Dave Batman into cheating on a motor or something. Or playing a firecracker prank on him. Or tormenting someone by stealth.
Joe Zimmerman And The Beast
Joe Zimmerman was the most ordinary looking man you could ever meet. I don't mean he was not a good looking man, I just mean he looked like Joe Average. He looked completely straight and was all business. He's the guy you see walking in the background in the movies, or the guy at the races standing on the other side of the fence and looking the other way while a crash is happening right in front of him. He was just sort of, errrrr, invisible. You saw so many people like Joe Zimmerman that they all sort of ran together.
Well, until I got to know him, that is. He is probably going to go down as the wildest man I have ever known, and I later discovered it wasn't just with R/C airplanes. We would travel around the country racing our 200mph R/C planes. As the bad boys of the sport, it was only natural that we would visit a men's club somewhere along the way. I can't really go into it here, but remember that he was one wild character.
And there are other stories, but they are best left untold. He was just plain evil with firecrackers.
Joe Zimmerman's specialty was mischief by steath.
He got to be pretty good at flying, and one day he showed up at the flying field with a 220mph formula One pylon racer, just to burn the field up. I thought the safety patrol was going to go into siezure over that one,
but he never got into any trouble because no one ever saw him as anything but Joe Average. I was cocky and cheezed off the establishment. He loved to make them crazy with rage, but they never knew he was doing it on purpose. He was sort or............errrrrrrrrr, invisible.
We were really an odd couple.
The pylon racers were the bad boys of the sport, so it was natural we ended up on the circuit where we fit in with the rest of the lunatics. It was the middle of a long season and I was in the thick of the championship battle with a real shot. Joe was just getting his start, and wasn't really competent enough to be competing at this level.
But he wasn't above cheating, installed a .51 sized engine and put a .40 head on it, so it looked legal. It was utterly the fastest thing anyone had ever seen and Joe was fighting for his life every time he flew it. He couldn't even hold the thing at a constant altitude on the straights. The thing screamed along going up and down like a roller coaster and scared the crap out of everyone. He would lose control and fly over the pits at low altitude and send everyone scattering for their lives. You know, I look back and laugh, but it was really pretty dangerous stuff.
My friend Bob didn't travel very well. He would come to a race and all he would do is spent the day in whatever facilities were available. We normally teamed up because it takes a flyer and a caller to race, but that day, he was so sick he never raced. I ended up with Joe instead.
I managed to get Joe to calm down a little. I made a few adjustments to the plane in practice and it was much more docile to handle. But, lord, it was some kind of streak. It would blast down the back stretch and you could almost see a shock wave coming off it. I would lay it up on it's wing around turns two and three and it felt like the thing was going to rip the transmitter out of my hands. The thing was just plain scarey.
So we went through a couple of rounds and Joe won them all. At the end of the day, he, two other guys and I were tied with perfect scores. And we always handled that the right way....we lined up and we raced for it.
I had to team up with another guy, and the guy Joe got wasn't very good at keeping him calm. Joe was back to the porpoising on the straights, and he was so all over the sky that none of us even dared to try and pass him.
Joe had his moment in the sun, but it was just a moment.
He was finally so exhausted and confused by the beast and the pressure that he lost control, clipped a pylon and then another plane which exploded, the debris of which took out yet another plane and mine too. After than, there was no stopping what was left of Joe's flaming plane and it slammed into the outhouse at full steam, nearly knocking it over.
And of course Bob came rolling out with his pants around his knees and cursing. But when he found out it was Joe, well, no one can get angry with such an ordinary man, right?
Every single plane in the race was taken out in the incident. One guy just laughed uncontrollably, but the other guy was furious and screaming and cursing and stoping up and down. But because Joe was so ordinary, so invisible, the guy was furious with me at the one time I was actually haplessly innocent! The officials moved between us as the man became more verbal and animated.
Joe moved silently to the sidelines and wore the cheshire grin.
The heat was stopped (heck, no one was left anyway) and it was decided to go back one lap and call it over. Of course, that was when Joe was still in the lead, so finally got to win a big race. Joe and I stood there befuddled, staring at each other as the debris from all the destroyed airplanes fluttered down on us in the gentle spring breeze. I'm not sure if we were proud of ourselves or not.
Joe did a little dance when they handed him the trophy. It was the wildest thing anyone had ever see him do. Everyone but me, that is.
OK, OK, OK, one more Joe Zimmerman story, but just one.
Yeah, Joe was evil with firecrackers, but it only came about as a matter of self defense. We had some guys at the field throwing firecrackers right behind unsuspecting people and since Joe was such an unlikely chracter, so benigh and ordinary, they got him a couple of times.
Well, one day was it. We flew out the day until it was just us and the firecracker perpetators. They were sitting there having a beer (they were done flying, so that was ok) and laughing about their pranks when Joe sneaks up behind them.
Joe was an excellent marksman.
They never saw it coming when Joe stood two feet behind them and unloaded the entire clip of his .45 into the ground.
One guy got up and fell all over himself, and when he got up again the entire front of his pants were soaked. The other guy just stood there and sobbed uncontrollably.
Joe loads another clip into the gun, smacking it home with the palm of his hand like Magnum would do. Then the evil grin spreads over his face as he pulls the slide back and lets it snap back into place with an audible "CLICK!"
"Any questions?"
Epilogue: When I quit flying Joe and I sort of drifted apart. His kids were getting older and he needed to spend time with them. I was off to the Carribean chasing sharks and women, so we sort of lost track of each other for a few years. We didn't love each other any less. Our lives just took us different directions from each other.
One day years later, Joe stopped by and we visited for a few hours. We made plans to get together the next day, ironically the Friday before 9/11, but I never saw him again. He died getting out of his car when he got home that day.....oddly for what the coroner says is no reason at all.......none. He sat down, leaned against his car and checked out.
I still miss him. I imagine wherever he is, he is trying to talk Dave Batman into cheating on a motor or something. Or playing a firecracker prank on him. Or tormenting someone by stealth.