Dave Draper’s Musclebuilding Q&A

Who was your favorite workout partner back in the late ’60s, early ’70s and why would you choose him?

I had some no-fame beauties during the dungeon days — Dick Sweet, Rick Joesephson, Fritz Sills — but by the late ’60s and early ’70s I was done with my training partner phase… and found training alone the only way to go.

Meeting a time schedule and compromising urges and needs no longer suited my mentality or lifestyle. I hooked up with Frank in the early mornings during the summer of 1970 before a series of contests later that year. We were compatible for the hour and the short connections served us well.

The Golden Era mob (Arnold, Franco, FZ, etc) often trained together over those grand years, side by side, sharing and kibitzing, but not necessarily in partnership. Unspoken encouragement goes a long way — back and forth.

Dick Tyler wrote of that in this excerpt, Golden Impressions, from his book West Coast Bodybuilding Scene.

Push that iron, savor the good times, endure the tough and be thankful always.

Go… Godspeed… Dave

Didn’t you train for a while with Vince Gironda? I have a copy of Vince’s book “Wild Physique” and found his nutrition information fascinating and far ahead of his time. What are your thoughts on Vince and his knowledge of physique training and nutrition?

Though I knew Vince and occasionally trained in North Hollywood, we seldom share training ideas. Seems each locale — Muscle Beach, Pasadena, Vince’s — had its own variations of the basics, accepted the differences and trained vigorously accordingly.

Our ideas on nutrition run parallel in most areas and his training MOs have been applied coincidentally with purpose and affect. The knowledge — exercise, nutrition, psychological — I’ve picked up, assimilated and retained over time is a big bundle of goods I go through irregularly and recycle.

Over in the forum you’ll find a treasure trove of conversation about Vince’s theories and exercises, as well as these a few discussions about Vince, the man (1 and 2).

Remember: The iron heals, mends, fortifies, toughens, vitalizes, enables, engages, entertains, satisfies, serves, instructs, humbles and makes a good door stop…

I am 55 years old and used to read the magazines when I was a teenager. It must hurt you a little that Arnold got so famous. You must feel like the baseball players of the old days felt as they played baseball for the love of the game.

Good analogy.

Arnold is one of a kind and I feel no envy, only admiration.

I’m content, and when dissatisfaction visits my door, I recognize him as an enemy of my soul. He’s scolded and sent on his way. Gratefulness follows his departure and we feast in the gardens.

Go… God’s strength… Dave

Could you tell me more about Vince Gironda? What was he like in person?

In my day it was cool to know and associate with the guys (Larry Scott, Zabo, Don Howorth, Bill MacArdle, Labra, Mozee and Vince and countless other characters) in a life-does-not-center-around-weights environment. We hung together, but didn’t talk shop.

Remember, I didn’t train at Vince’s North Hollywood Gym and that crew didn’t train at the Muscle Beach Dungeon. We were comrades, an unspoken weave of pride stitching us together. Musclemen were a vapor. To talk muscles amongst each other was not common. Personal training and dietary particulars drifted in the air like elemental particles ­ mythology, hearsay and stories.

Vince was always quiet, serene. I see him sitting on a curbside sharpening a stub of a pencil with a pocket knife. That’s us; we lean against a Hollywood studio’s brick wall (KHJ on Gower) waiting to be called for a screen test for The Gladiator.

He’s wearing a black long-sleeved wool shirt in another impression joining the fun in a car commercial, all of us packed in a sedan as the cameras roll.

He’s sitting back in the corner of his shadowy gym, observing and waiting in a white t-shirt. I heard he doesn’t like squats so I don’t dare do them when I visit if I could — no squat racks for miles. I’m not quiet; I have no mouth. My mind is in a can of tuna… it’s under my shirtsleeve.

Vince likes protein and intensity and perfection and form. Strictness is power. A big ass is the sign of a fool. Full range of motion, extend and contract, isolate, concentrate and it’s no laughing matter. He didn’t say so; he exuded it.

Vince, like many we know, is an image bigger than life. It’s all those years of chins and dips and relentlessness and mystery and acquired admiration.

Shoulda took notes.