The History Of Hoodlums

My compadre Chris slid this piece across my desk, and although it veers into the outskirts of relevance, a lot of it is pure gold. But disregard the incongruities, my friend, because what lies beneath is the tale of RL Peyton – a renegade, a hoodlum, a midnight maestro of drag strips. He was a living testament wielded by 1960s bureaucrats to justify their battle against the legality of hot rodding.

RL, essentially a career outlaw, donned the cloak of a drag racing virtuoso on weekends. He was a living, breathing argument for the wild side of speed. What set him apart? He bankrolled his drag racing empire with stolen credit cards, boosted cars, and a side hustle in narcotics. A triple threat of crime, velocity, and audacity. And in his heyday, RL was a terror on the track – outshining even the biggest names with his fearless pursuit of speed.

But, as the cosmic joke would have it, it all came crashing down. RL lost not only his race car but also his freedom, snared by the consequences of his high-octane existence. His saga, a riveting drama, became the perfect ammunition for politicians and newspapers alike – crafting narratives of caution and fear to sway the masses. RL Peyton became the poster child for the dire consequences awaiting those who veer off the societal highway, choosing instead the twisted byways of hot rodding rebellion.

Now, let me tell you, I’ve spent more than half my life unraveling the tapestry of hot rodding nonconformity. I hunt down the shadowy legends of speed like a guided missile, and when I stumble upon one, I giggle like a schoolgirl on nitrous oxide. But the truth is, true outlaws in the realm of hot rodding are as rare as a clean bathroom at a South Austin bar.

Sure, it’s not unheard of to catch a hot rodder bending a few rules for the sake of velocity, but finding one who made a living at the expense of others? That’s a unicorn in a sea of racehorses. While the headlines screamed about “hot rod gangs,” proof of such nefarious fraternities were scarce as hell.

RL Peyton, my friends, was the needle in the haystack – a cultural maverick trading societal norms for the intoxicating rush of speed. Most hot rodders, in contrast, were merely mischievous innovators, bending a few legal corners to fuel their private obsessions. Society in the 1950’s and 60’s, however, tends to lump them together, treating a mountain and a molehill as equals.

But holy hell, what a story… RL’s I mean… And I couldn’t help but feature it this morning: