To:               LandCruisers@tlca.org
Send reply to:    LandCruisers@tlca.org
Date sent:        Mon, 02 Jun 1997 08:06:37 -0500
From:             "Andrew H. Litkowiak" 
Organization:     World Inspection Network
Subject:          Re: hood kits, a teaching tale about chrome

Brian Skalla wrote:
> 
> Help!
>         I cannot find any kind of chrome hood kits for my 75 FJ40.  If anyone
> knows a company that sells them please e-mail me and tell me who.
> 
>                                                                 bskall@webzone.net

Poor, misguided Brother Brian. Listen, as the story of chrome is related.

Once upon a time, in a city not too far from you, a young man named Burford bought a Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40, the roughest, toughest, most rompin, stompin 4x4 available in the known world. Burford was very happy with his Cruiser, but, being from the city, he felt that something was missing. Something cool, something to help him pick up chicks.

He gazed at his Cruiser, glorious with its hard lines and earth tones. "Ahhh" he said, "if only it were a little brighter, flashier. Then I could get all the babes I want." Burford pondered and puzzled and thought until smoke curled from his ears. But nothing came to him.

Suddenly, there in the grocery store parking lot, he saw a low rider. It had high gloss paint, a very noisy stereo, chrome trim everywhere and beautiful bikini clad bimbos laying all over the car (turns out it was a photo layout for Low Rider Magazine, but of course, blinded by the high gloss chrome and bimbos, Burford failed to see the cameras).

"That's it" he shouted, "Chrome!"

Burford hurried home and pulled out all his Cruiser related catalogs. He pored over them, but could find no Chrome accessories. "How odd" he thought. "Well, no matter. I'll just send some stuff out to the local plating shop."

Burford took the parts to the nearest plating shop. When the owner saw that they were Land Cruiser parts, he refused to chrome them. "Look son. I'll powder coat them, I'll black anodize them, but I won't chrome those parts. It's a sin, plain and simple".

Burford went to many plating shops, but the result was the same. Metal platers everywhere refused to deal with him, the more superstitious even warding him off with hex signs and prayers. Finally, in a run down, scary part of town, he saw a sign for plating services on a dilapidated old garage. The owner was a gnarled little man, with a rheumy eye and a hunch back. "So, ya wants chrome, does ya? I'll do it, but it will cost big." All Burford could think of were the bikini clad bimbos. He ignored all the warnings and rumors and handed over his money to the odd little man.

While the parts were out being chromed, Burford buffed out his Cruiser until it shone like the sun itself. He also installed a wicked 250 amp 27 channel ear busting stereo system.

Well, the big day arrived. The parts were done! Burford hurried to the plating shop and collected his parts. And what parts they were. Bumpers and rims and hood hardware and tool box and bezel and tow hooks and Warn hubs and lug nuts and roll bar and wiper arms, all in glorious, gleaming chrome. He rushed home and began working on re-installing all his wonderful chrome parts.

The work was all done and nothing was left but to go for a ride. Burford climbed into his gleaming, chrome covered cruiser and headed for the mall. "This is it" he thought, "babe city, here I come."

As Burford headed towards the mall, he came upon a small tree, just a sapling really, down, blocking the road. Cars ahead were detouring around it. He looked, and decided, "hey, it's a Cruiser. I'll just crawl right over."

Burford pulled forward and touched the sapling with his tire. As we all know, when the front tire of any Cruiser touches dirt, sand, rock, grass, wood or any material other than asphalt or concrete, the Land Cruiser Gods look down upon the Cruiser, ready to admire their creation and watch with pride as it conquers the environment it was designed to conquer.

So the Land Cruiser Gods looked down on Berford's Cruiser, and they were confused. "Where is our creation, and what is all that damned noise?" The Land Cruiser Gods looked closer and realized that it was indeed a Cruiser. They saw the well buffed paint and smiled, happy that Burford was caring for their creation. They listened to the offensive loud music and were a bit miffed, but, they let it pass, hey, who can judge taste in music, one man's treasure is a Land Cruiser God's trash, but, whatever.

The Land Cruiser Gods then saw past the blinding reflection of the sun and realized that the source was....chrome. "It looks like a low rider" said one God. "Look at all those greasy fingerprints" said another. "Look" said a third, "he's even done the hood latches in...(sob)...chrome."

So the Land Cruiser Gods conferred and debated and raged and wept, all the while trying to decide a proper punishment for Burford. At last, they found a suitable penance for the ultimate sin. They assembled in all their glory and power and carried out their decision.

As Burford's front tire touched the sapling, he felt a shiver run through his body. His Cruiser suddenly felt....different. He stepped on the gas and......was stuck. Burford gassed it a bit more, and then a bit more, until it was floored, and the motor was screaming, but he moved not an inch. "How odd" Burford thought. He engaged the 4 wheel drive and tried again. Nothing. The engine screamed in agony, the clutch billowed noxious gasses, but the truck would not move.

Burford shut off the motor and climbed out to find out what tremendous obstacle was holding him in place. He looked around, but all looked normal. A tiny sapling lay in the road, but nothing more.

Burford bent down to look under the truck to see if he was missing something. As he gazed to the front, he noticed that his springs were....tiny. In fact, everything in the drive line was....small. Axles, pumpkins, transfer, suspension all looked as if they had shrunk. He pulled his head back and stood up.

Burford looked closely at his truck. It still gleamed and shined, but it was riding lower to the ground. He walked around it, examining. "The grill looks different" he thought. "And what are those stupid little flares doing on the front fenders?" The sheet metal looked thin and the doors were kind of odd.

As he rounded the back, a horrible thought occurred to him. Yes, the tire carrier was gone. Burford looked closer and then let out a shriek "oh, what have I done, what have I done?" he sobbed. There on the back were four terrible letters, burned into the flimsy sheet metal. J**P

And that, children, is how the Land Cruiser Gods created the J**P.

So you see, Brian. You really should consider just why you can't find chrome parts. This story is one of the teaching parables used by the Curia. It's origins are lost in antiquity, but Truth is a constant. I suggest you heed its message or you could face dire consequences.

Brother Andy
2598
Subbing for Brother Henry, wherever his spirit may wander. And you know
he's watching. We've all been getting the ghostly messages.

Date: Wed, 09 Jul 1997 09:36:12 -0500
From: "Andrew H. Litkowiak" 
Subject: Chrome, again
To: LandCruisers@tlca.org

Greg Overton wrote:
>
> > Deeeeep breath buddy!  We all have chr@@me on the male portion of the seat
> > belt and the little do-hickey-cover at the base of the ?J-40 antenae is
> > really bright too.  Come to think of it, the two phillips screws that hold
> > the instrument cluster in are.... well, they may be way polished stainless.
> 
>
> I feel kinda bad about those chrome wheels on my rig now! I thought
> chrome was OK in the wheel dept. As long as you don't whore the rig up
> with a lot of other chrome crap.
> 
> Greg

For the record, from a spritual standpoint, the only acceptable chrome on a Cruiser is as follows; Factory applied chrome, factory authorized dealer applied chrome, factory applied chrome on essential off-road aftermarket goodies like winches. Non-stock chrome items like wheels, mirrors and bumpers are a bad thing, and should be masked or removed as soon as is safely and economically feasible. To do otherwise is to risk the wrath of the Cruiser Gods.

On the other hand, Stainless Steel and Aluminum can be used in many applications without angering the Cruiser Gods, provided it is not excessively shiny or chrome like. I strongly urge Brother Henry to leap into this troubling situation and kick some spritual butt. In any event, I urge to revisit the newly re-discovered teaching tale.

The Parable of Chrome
or
Pandora's Cruiser
as translated by
Brother Andy
Member - Order of the Elongated Cruiser, Exalted Grand Poobah - Order of Hoarders

In the beginnning, there were Land Cruisers. The world was devoid of inadequate 4x4's, and life was good. The Land Cruiser Gods were content and mankind lived in a golden age. There was much love in the world, everyone packed out their trash and birfields never broke.

Then one day, in a city not too far from you, a young man named Burford bought a Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40, the roughest, toughest, most rompin, stompin 4x4 available in all the world. Burford was very happy with his Cruiser, but, being from the city, he felt that something was missing. Something cool, something to help him pick up chicks.

He gazed at his Cruiser, glorious with its hard lines and earth tones. "Ahhh" he said, "if only it were a little brighter, flashier. Then I could get all the babes I want." Burford pondered and puzzled and thought until smoke curled from his ears. But nothing came to him.

Suddenly, there in the grocery store parking lot, he saw a low rider. It had high gloss paint, a very noisy stereo, chrome trim everywhere and beautiful bikini clad bimbos laying all over the car (turns out it was a photo layout for Low Rider Magazine, but of course, blinded by the high gloss chrome and bikini clad bimbos, Burford failed to see the cameras).

"That's it" he shouted, "Chrome!"

Burford hurried home and pulled out all his Cruiser related catalogs. He pored over them, but could find no chrome accessories. "How odd" he thought. "Well, no matter. I'll just send some stuff out to the local plating shop."

Burford took the parts to the nearest plating shop. When the owner saw that they were Land Cruiser parts, he refused to chrome them. "Look son. I'll powder coat them, I'll black anodize them, but I won't chrome those parts. It's a sin, plain and simple".

Burford went to many plating shops, but the result was the same. Metal platers everywhere refused to deal with him, the more superstitious even warding him off with hex signs and prayers. Finally, in a run down, scary part of town, he saw a sign for plating services on a dilapidated old garage. The owner was a gnarled little man, with a rheumy eye and a hunch back. "So, he wants chrome, does he? Heh heh heh, chrome, he wants. I'll do it, but it will cost him big."

The ugly little man looked at the boxes and bumpers, and then after much grumbling and muttering and giggling, quoted Burford a price. An amazingly low price. Burford hesitated, marveling at the low figure, thinking there must be some mistake. "That's it. Take it or leave it!" the old man barked.

Burford thought of all the other platers who refused the work. The looks of horror and disgust, the speed with which they threw him out of their shops. He began to feel uncomfortable. "Uhm, I think=85.I'm not sure=85."=

The old man glared at him. "What's the matter, boy. Don't you want your truck to shine? Don't you want people to notice it, like, girls?" =

Suddenly all Burford could think of were the bikini clad bimbos. He ignored all the warnings and rumors and handed over his money to the odd little man. He left with visions and plans, never noticing the gleam in the old man's eye, not hearing that last cackling laugh as he left the shop.

While the parts were out being chromed, Burford buffed out his Cruiser until it shone like the sun itself. He also installed a wicked 250 amp 27 channel ear busting stereo system.

Well, the big day arrived. The parts were done! Burford hurried to the plating shop to collect his parts. And what parts they were. Bumpers and rims and hood hardware and tool box and bezel and tow hooks and Warn hubs and lug nuts and roll bar and wiper arms, all in glorious, gleaming chrome. "Thank you, thank you" gushed Burford. The ugly little man just looked at him for a moment, then smiled. An evil, horrible smile. "No. Thank you! A pleasure doing business."

As Burford left, he heard an insane, cackling giggle, then a rush of air. He turned and stared. He walked back to the garage. The padlock on the door was rusted shut and the grime covered windows were dark. He wiped away the dirt and looked in. The dust on the floor was thick, and looked as if it hadn't been touched in many years. The tables that had previously held metal plating equipment were bare and dusty. There was no sign of the old man, or anyone else. =

Burford felt a chill run through his body, but just as he began to really think about what all this meant, his eyes rested again upon the gleaming chrome parts in his hands. A warm glow replaced the chill, and all thoughts of the old man or the events of the day were swept from his mind.

He rushed home and began working on re-installing all his wonderful chrome parts. The work was all done and nothing was left but to go for a ride. Burford climbed into his gleaming, chrome covered cruiser and headed for the mall. "This is it" he thought, "babe city, here I come."

As Burford headed towards the mall, he came upon a small tree, just a sapling really, down, blocking the road. Cars ahead were detouring around it to avoid scraping their paint. He looked, and decided, "hey, I've got a Cruiser. I'll just crawl right over."

Burford pulled forward and touched the sapling with his tire. As we all know, when the front tire of any Land Cruiser touches dirt, sand, rock, grass, wood or any material other than asphalt or concrete, the Land Cruiser Gods look down upon the Cruiser, ready to admire their creation and watch with pride as it conquers the environment it was designed to conquer.

So the Land Cruiser Gods looked down on Burford's Cruiser, and they were confused. "Where is our creation=85..and what is all that damned noise?" The Land Cruiser Gods looked closer and realized that it was indeed a Cruiser. They saw the well buffed paint and smiled, pleased that Burford was caring for their creation. They listened to the offensive loud music and were a bit miffed, but, they let it pass, hey, who can judge taste in music, one man's treasure is a Land Cruiser God's trash, but, whatever.

The Land Cruiser Gods then saw past the blinding reflection of the sun and realized that the source was....chrome. "It looks like a low rider" said one God. "Look at all those greasy fingerprints" said another. "Look" said a third, "he's even done the hood latches in...(sob)...chrome."

So the Land Cruiser Gods conferred and debated and raged and wept, all the while trying to decide a proper punishment for Burford. At last, they found a suitable penance for the ultimate sin. They assembled in all their glory and power, and in the blink of an eye, carried out their decision.

As Burford's front tire touched the sapling, he felt a shiver run through his body. His Cruiser suddenly felt....different. He stepped on the gas and......was stuck. Burford gassed it a bit more, and then a bit more, until it was floored, and the motor was screaming, but he moved not an inch. "How odd" Burford thought. He engaged the 4 wheel drive and tried again. Nothing. The engine screamed in agony, the clutch billowed noxious gasses, but the truck would not move.

Burford shut off the motor and climbed out to find out what tremendous obstacle was holding him in place. He looked around, but all looked normal. A tiny sapling lay in the road, but nothing more. =

Burford bent down to look under the truck to see if he was missing something. As he gazed to the front, he noticed that his springs were....tiny. In fact, everything in the drive line was....small. Axles, pumpkins, transfer, suspension all looked as if they had shrunk. He pulled his head back and stood up.

Burford looked closely at his truck. It still gleamed and shined, but it was riding lower to the ground. He walked around it, examining. "The grill looks different" he thought. "And what are those stupid little flares doing on the front fenders?" The sheet metal looked thin and the doors were kind of odd.

As he rounded the back, a horrible thought occurred to him. Yes, the tire carrier was gone. Burford looked closer and then let out a shriek "Oh, what have I done, what have I done?" he sobbed. There on the back were four terrible letters, burned into the flimsy sheet metal.

J**P

And that, children, is how the Land Cruiser Gods created the J**P.

If you have any question, remark, comment, want to share some philosophy or just want to express your opinion about these pages, feel free to send email to: w.j.markerink @ a1.nl