GREAT SCOTT! NOT THE TOOLBOX!

Off to the Official Railroad Man Tool Box for scissors and an X-acto knife. I also pulled out spray cans of Krylon flat black, Testor's Dullcote, and a roll of Scotch Magic Mending Tape. At the local art store (not, repeat not, hobby shop) for a very few dollars I bought a sheet of "Zippy Sign" metallic gold, quarter-inch high, block letters. Zippy Sign makes thin, plastic, lift-off letters and the sheet repeats the whole alphabet several times. It also comes with a clear plastic letter spacing guide. The coach had the roadname on its letterboard--the panel between the top of the windows and the bottom of the roof. "Pennsylvania" was about to become "Sierra and Western". I stretched two strips of Magic Mending Tape lengthwise across the mouth of a shoe box (sticky side down) and lightly sprayed them Krylon flat black. After they dried I gently laid the blackened tape on a smooth surface. I use a sheet of formica as a work surface but a sheet of glass, the kitchen counter, or maybe the shiny surface of a grand piano in a concert hall would also work. Using the lettering guide, the X-acto knife, eleven of my fourteen thumbs, secret swear words known only to the Scott clan, and the live sacrifice of a small flying bug I managed to spell "SIERRA AND WESTERN" lengthwise down the middle of the tape. The Zippy lettering is a brassy reflective gold. I prefer the more sedate gold leaf look so I shot the strips with Dullcote. After waiting patiently for almost three or four minutes I gently and carefully lifted the lettered tape and used the scissors to trim it to fit the letterboard and cover the original lettering. There it was--a "Sierra and Western" coach. When the time came to cash in on my investment it easily would convert back to its original livery. All I had to do was lift off the lettered strip of tape. What genius. [I ask you, are these not the ravings of a disturbed man?--Ed.] Magic Mending Tape is wonderful stuff. If you don't press it down hard it will lift off over and over again. Since that first experiment I have created several lettering schemes for the same cars. I change them as I see fit. I store the unused lettering strips on an old sheet of plastic, ready to peel off and use again. [Please note the Railroad Man has volunteered additional evidence of what is manifestly a delusional and schizoid personality.--Ed.]

DON DOES DENVER

I was so elated by this obvious shortcut I tried altering some LGB "Rio Grande" low side gondolas to represent the early Denver, South Park & Pacific. This time I used Woodland Scenics' white Railroad Roman dry transfer lettering. I put the initials "D.,S.P.&P." on a piece of blackened Magic Mending Tape to cover the car's original "D&RGW". What can I say? Awesome, dude! [See note above.--Ed.] My next project involved a trip to Pep Boys for a roll of bright red vinyl seat cover repair tape. Just the right color and gloss to match the paint on my LGB "Great Northern" stock car. Remember that car? My LGB dealer assured me it would become more valuable than beachfront real estate in Malibu within moments of my buying it. I am sure he was right and I will never do anything to alter such a miracle investment in plastic. I wanted the car to have the old South Park lettering to go with my other South Park stuff (You say, "The South Park never ran bright red cattle cars"? I say, "SO WHAT?"). [Now the man is having conversations with imaginary adversaries.--Ed.] A snip of the scissors, a trim of the tape, a pass of the Woodland Scenics Roman Railroad dry transfer lettering (bigger letters this time) and--bim, bam, boom!--just like that I had converted the stock cars to the D.,S.P.&P.R.R. Incidentally, for periods and commas I recommend a Pentel typist's "Whiteout" marker from the stationery store. I neglected to use one on my car but it does work. I suggest you practice first.

BYE-BYE The photos show the Delton coaches (before and after) and the LGB stock car (after). I have already removed the South Park lettering from the low side gons and sold them. The poor, unsuspecting collector had no inkling of their multiple personalities. [Or of Don's.--Ed.]