The Knights of the Auto Order Proudly Present: The Auto Body Estimate: Vol. II, #51, August 2002


I'm glad that airport security isn't limiting their searches to those who fit a specific profile. I think more people should take great interest in the contents of purses belonging to elderly grandmothers from Iowa; it makes them feel extra special. Heck, if airports did profile, you'd have all kinds of middle eastern men dressing up like elderly grandmothers from Iowa, and who'd want to see that? The airport security gig would turn into an endless Scooby Doo finale, with guards continually ripping "elderly-grandmother-from-Iowa" masks off of swarthy men shouting something about "those meddling kids" in Arabic.

Many black Americans wish that local law enforcement would similarly shun profiling. They know that a young black man is far more likely to attract police than his white counterpart (who, sadly, is blasting the same indecipherable, chassis-rattling, booming bass car audio). Personally, I'd sleep better knowing that skinny long-haired guys couldn't be specifically sought out, particularly involving crimes against a cheating pop machine located outside a certain grocery store where it might not have been immediately apparent that a security camera was present. Perhaps we'd get Washington to sign on if Americans demanded that all white male politicians whose wealth multiplied in the '90s stock market be profiled for scrutiny regarding unethical business practices.

If security people were really savvy, they'd stop me from flying to New York. While the closest I've ever come to a terrorist act was attending some '80s protest blocking traffic on Lake Street (where my main objective was to meet hippie chicks), it seems my presence in the Big Apple IS a danger. I performed at Carnegie Hall with '60s pop star Gene Pitney on Feb 26, 1993. While on my lunch break that day, the World Trade Center was bombed. Last September 15th Becca and I were married in upstate New York; 'nuff said. Two months later we returned to see an old roommate get married. We flew home from New York on Sunday, November 11 - on the 12th, Flight 587 went down in Queens. Perhaps I have a second personality, unknown to me, who performs terrorist acts behind my back. More importantly, perhaps he can be rehabilitated to paint my house.

But I don't have to travel to New York to encounter tragedy. I just learned of Madison's Central Storage & Warehouse Fire of '91 where five cold storage buildings (containing 50 million pounds of butter, lard, and cheese) became an inferno. Water had little effect on the resulting molten foodstuffs other than to mix with them and produce giant lava-like flows of Cheez Whiz through nearby streets. I'm thinking drive-in movie: "The Fondue Blob." "Brave fire fighters wrestle the blaze, while elderly folks in lawn chairs hold out toast chunks on sticks." For heightened tension the hero could be lactose intolerant! Sadly, writing the screenplay has to wait: first I need to finish my Elf Help book and the next Auto Body Experience CD, and it all takes time. As my pal Jeff McGuire says: "I'm running like a three-legged dog – it aint pretty, but I'm making progress."

My advice? Skip New York, grab a toast chunk, put on the grandma mask, and limp on over to O'Gara's at Snelling and Selby in St. Paul on Friday, August 9 – our cheesy antics hit the stage at 9:00 PM sharp.

-Scott Yoho, Grand Pooh Bah, The Auto Body Experience

PS: Please note we have a new email address:

Friday, August 9 at O’Gara’s Garage - Snelling and Selby, St. Paul. We'll play one set starting at 9:00PM sharp, followed by Clovis, and then by Grayson (it's their CD Release Party). Contact O'Gara's at: 651-644-3333 or

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