The Arizona Republic, 3-5-05
Every Saturday afternoon, souped-up Chevy Impalas dipped in chrome rolled
into Jaime Martinez's East Los Angeles home.
Martinez, a boy then, watched wide-eyed as his father and uncles worked to make their babies purr for that smooth ride out on Whittier Boulevard, the East LA street famous for cruising.
Now 36 with sons of his own, Martinez is another lowrider devotee who is passing the increasingly mainstream tradition on to his children.
Martinez, a boy then, watched wide-eyed as his father and uncles worked to make their babies purr for that smooth ride out on Whittier Boulevard, the East LA street famous for cruising.
Now 36 with sons of his own, Martinez is another lowrider devotee who is passing the increasingly mainstream tradition on to his children.
But before Martinez, of west Phoenix, lets go of his own cherry red '62
Impala, he's out to win a few awards at the Lowrider Magazine
2005 Tour car show, which rolls into Phoenix on Sunday at the
Arizona State Fairgrounds.
"My mind-set is that I'm going down there to compete against other guys (from different states)," he said. "They're not going home with a trophy from here. They can get one from someone else, but when they come into my stomping grounds, they ain't getting it from my state."
About 500 modified vehicles and bicycles will attend this show.
"My mind-set is that I'm going down there to compete against other guys (from different states)," he said. "They're not going home with a trophy from here. They can get one from someone else, but when they come into my stomping grounds, they ain't getting it from my state."
About 500 modified vehicles and bicycles will attend this show.
It's one of the most popular lowrider shows in Phoenix and draws
contestants from all over the country, tour manager Jon Henriquez said.
Most of the entrants are from Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, California and Utah. From 10,000 to 15,000 spectators also are expected to attend the show, organizers said.
"They're probably some of the most beautiful cars in the country that come out to this show."
The Valley is home to thousands of lowriders and several dozen car clubs, everything from Christian lowriders to an all-women's club. About half of the contestants will be from Arizona and New Mexico.The tour started about 30 years ago and now makes 14 stops from California to Florida.
Because lowriding developed in the barrios, it has long been saddled with image problems. But Henriquez said that lowriding has become a family pursuit, with fathers and sons working and spending time and money together on their cars.
"These kids actually are the third generation of families whose grandparents started building lowriders," he said. "The kids who were building bikes are now building cars."
That's how it was for Martinez. He got hooked on lowriders as a kid in East Los Angeles. His father owned a chocolate brown '64 Impala with springs that raised the front and lowered the back of the car.
"I would always see my dad and all my uncles and all their friends. They would come over and they would all be working on their cars," he said. "Impalas everywhere."
Since then, Martinez, a fiber-optics technician, has worked to make his own "six-deuce" (a 1962 car) dreams come true.
Nine years ago, Martinez's friend spotted a beat-up '62 hardtop in a barn. It was without doors and an interior.
He slapped down $1,500 for it, bought another '62 to help with restoration, and worked on the car every spare moment. Today the shiny, chromed-out Impala has had about $35,000 invested in it and has 15 first-place prizes behind it.
"It's the passion," Martinez said. "I love these old cars. These cars are works of art."
At the show, Martinez will open the hood, trunk and doors, remove a tire and place mirrors under the body, all to rack up show points. The more features you show on your car, the more points you get, he said.
Although he has put a lot of time and money into the Impala, Martinez doesn't ever plan to sell his El Sancho, or Other Man. He plans to pass it on to his 15-year-old son.
"I'm very serious about lowriders. I want it real bad," son Justin Martinez said.
Lowriding started as tradition in Southern California's Latino community, but has spread to the mainstream and includes all ethnicities, said Ralph Fuentes, editorial director for Lowrider Magazine.
Most of the entrants are from Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, California and Utah. From 10,000 to 15,000 spectators also are expected to attend the show, organizers said.
"They're probably some of the most beautiful cars in the country that come out to this show."
The Valley is home to thousands of lowriders and several dozen car clubs, everything from Christian lowriders to an all-women's club. About half of the contestants will be from Arizona and New Mexico.The tour started about 30 years ago and now makes 14 stops from California to Florida.
Because lowriding developed in the barrios, it has long been saddled with image problems. But Henriquez said that lowriding has become a family pursuit, with fathers and sons working and spending time and money together on their cars.
"These kids actually are the third generation of families whose grandparents started building lowriders," he said. "The kids who were building bikes are now building cars."
That's how it was for Martinez. He got hooked on lowriders as a kid in East Los Angeles. His father owned a chocolate brown '64 Impala with springs that raised the front and lowered the back of the car.
"I would always see my dad and all my uncles and all their friends. They would come over and they would all be working on their cars," he said. "Impalas everywhere."
Since then, Martinez, a fiber-optics technician, has worked to make his own "six-deuce" (a 1962 car) dreams come true.
Nine years ago, Martinez's friend spotted a beat-up '62 hardtop in a barn. It was without doors and an interior.
He slapped down $1,500 for it, bought another '62 to help with restoration, and worked on the car every spare moment. Today the shiny, chromed-out Impala has had about $35,000 invested in it and has 15 first-place prizes behind it.
"It's the passion," Martinez said. "I love these old cars. These cars are works of art."
At the show, Martinez will open the hood, trunk and doors, remove a tire and place mirrors under the body, all to rack up show points. The more features you show on your car, the more points you get, he said.
Although he has put a lot of time and money into the Impala, Martinez doesn't ever plan to sell his El Sancho, or Other Man. He plans to pass it on to his 15-year-old son.
"I'm very serious about lowriders. I want it real bad," son Justin Martinez said.
Lowriding started as tradition in Southern California's Latino community, but has spread to the mainstream and includes all ethnicities, said Ralph Fuentes, editorial director for Lowrider Magazine.
The low-suspended vehicles date to the 1930s and 1940s, created by
Mexican-American youths - pachucos, or zoot-suiters - as a form of
self-identity, he said. Impalas and Monte Carlos were the main rides
because they lasted the longest and were easy to trick out.
But since the peak of the lowrider craze in the 1970s, lowriding has taken on a new sports-like image, Martinez said. It's now about major modification, hydraulics and candy paint.
"It was a subculture. It wasn't as noticed and recognized, and it always had a bad history behind it as a cholo (barrio guy) thing," he said. "But once it went mainstream, everybody has gotten into it to what it has evolved to today."
Even though Martinez will miss grooming El Sancho, he's looking forward to transitioning to another vehicle when he is in his mid-40s.
By that time, he'll leave the glitz and glamour to the kids and their tricked-out cars.
"These are the older, mellow, laid-back vehicles cruising by," he said with a wide grin. "When you're this age, you should have your old lady with you, watch the boys and sit back."
But since the peak of the lowrider craze in the 1970s, lowriding has taken on a new sports-like image, Martinez said. It's now about major modification, hydraulics and candy paint.
"It was a subculture. It wasn't as noticed and recognized, and it always had a bad history behind it as a cholo (barrio guy) thing," he said. "But once it went mainstream, everybody has gotten into it to what it has evolved to today."
Even though Martinez will miss grooming El Sancho, he's looking forward to transitioning to another vehicle when he is in his mid-40s.
By that time, he'll leave the glitz and glamour to the kids and their tricked-out cars.
"These are the older, mellow, laid-back vehicles cruising by," he said with a wide grin. "When you're this age, you should have your old lady with you, watch the boys and sit back."
* Link to this article at: