Service

The cam follower finds himself waiting on service this morning.  Naturally, I am talking about vehicle service.  Not for my own vehicle, I service it myself, but for my work van.  It is always serviced by somebody else.  The layers of irony are not lost on me as I sit here observing interactions between the technicians, service advisers, and customers.  I do this every day with the people I provide service for.  It makes me realize how lucky I am to work on industrial robots instead of cars.  It also makes me realize how more comfortable I am with machines and dogs than people.

The reasons I am fortunate to work on industrial machines rather than cars are manifold.  It goes beyond the obvious effort/compensation calculations anybody would realize.  For instance, most things I must remove are easily accessible, not buried under aesthetic covers, hot pipes, hundreds of hoses, and thousands of miles of grime and grease.  In addition, I do not have to satisfy some accountant's estimation of the time it should take to perform a task.  If a gearbox is bad, it will take me as long as it takes me to replace it.  When an automotive technician must replace a drive belt, for instance, he is given a standard time to accomplish the task.  The manufacturer has determined how long it should take and that’s all they are going to pay for, despite the frozen or rounded off bolts on this particular car. In addition, I know the people whom I work with.  I know the machines, the facilities, and the environment.  I usually know the problem before I even get to the machine, because I know the machine and its context.  Rarely am I surprised by a problem.  At an automotive service center, random cars roll in all day long.

I knew before arriving that I would have to sit here for a while.  It's fine because I am getting paid to do it.  Even so, I am prepared to wait.  Forever.  It's just how it goes.  Any task that requires the help of another person necessarily includes some waiting.  Be it vehicle service, or dental work, or a haircut, you are going to wait around for a while.  But there’s nothing wrong with that.  It is an opportunity to develop patience, watch Rachel Ray's utterly useless show on the waiting room TV, or to futz around on the internet.  It is no real hardship.  But for some reason, there is always a person for whom it is an unacceptable calamity to wait for a service to be performed.  To me, it’s an unacceptable calamity to listen to them yammer on about how the universe itself is ruining their life.  And I seem to bring them with me.  I am convinced that ten seconds before I arrived the waiting room was a Zen garden, full of singing birds, bubbling brooks, peace and harmony.  Now, however, it’s a den of caterwauling man-cherubs for whom the act of sitting around is unacceptable, despite the fact that it’s plainly obvious by the generous proportions of their sans-a-belt slacks that all they tend to do is sit around.

Evidently, to this jackleg moaning about everything, the repair of one of the most complex appliances we use on a daily basis should not require any time, effort, or compensation from him. He bought the car, why should he be required to maintain it?  I am convinced these are the same people who drive in the left lane forever at varying speeds depending on the terrain, surrounding traffic, and the whims of their fragile psyche.  The same people who leave their car parked at a gas pump while completing Christmas shopping in the convenience store.  The same people who can not decide what to get at McDonald's, even though the menu has not changed in a decade. The same people who buy 27 lottery tickets in a store with one employee. The same people for whom nothing at the coffee shop is prepared appropriately, even though a translator, herbalist, and a small team of attorneys was employed in order to express their order properly to the poor schmuck behind the counter.

Which all brings me back to the point.  I tend to like machines and dogs better than people.  Machines may seem to have a mind of their own, but they don’t.  Machines are not self-aware, they do not have agendas, they don’t envy or hate.  There is always a logical solution to any problem with a machine.  People, on the other hand, are extraordinarily complex.  And there are no manuals to help understand what is happening with them.  The only way I have found to deal with people is to always provide the benefit of the doubt, and assume that people do not intend you harm, because most of the time they don't.  For instance, I have no idea what this complaining moron’s life is like.  He could be completely justified in his grievance.  But I doubt it.

Santa's Helper

As we slide into the inevitable Christmas shopping season, it occurs to me that I tend to receive automotive related gifts.  This is no surprise to the people that know me, I'm sure.  People that know me, and I am a real person, not a Russian bot attempting to sway your opinion, know that I like cars.  Gearheads, petrol heads, car geeks, grease monkey, whatever ambiguously insulting term you may use, indeed that's what I am.

So gift buying should be easy, right?  Just get any car-themed item, and I will be happy.  Because I like cars.  The truth is, I really do like (some) cars.  However, things that are not cars, but are shaped like cars, I probably don't like.  For instance, I don't like cologne.  Bottling it in a Duesenberg shaped container doesn't help. I probably don't need gummy candy in the shape of tires.  Coffee doesn't taste any better in a cup with a Mustang on it.  My vestibule is clean even though a Chevrolet bowtie doormat is missing.  My hair stays out of my face despite my lack of a '49 Mercury bandana.  I sleep fine, even though my pillow is not adorned with a Jaguar Sovereign pillowcase.  And the next time you are in Target, slide on past the Armor All gift pack.  See, I like cars, not necessarily random daily items somehow imbued with the greatest hits of automotive history.

I am not saying that I only want cars for Christmas.  Actually, I am saying that I only want cars for Christmas.  But since everybody I know has not recently won the lottery, that's probably not an option.  And if I did receive a car, it would probably be something stupid like an Audi, or a pickup truck.  I would have to ask for a gift receipt so I could return it for store credit. 

But to the savvy shopper, there are some items a car guy might want.  Tools are always an option.  But there is a specificity to tools that can make a seemingly simple gift idea shockingly complicated.  For one thing, they are excruciatingly expensive.  Unless you get cheap tools.  And that is insulting, so don't bother.  I can buy cheap tools for myself and rationalize it away.  But to receive them as a gift is just as problematic as receiving fruitcake.  You don't want to seem ungrateful, but my god, fruitcake?!  While any quality, useful tool is a welcome gift, finding the right, useful tool is difficult.  After all, there are only so many flat head screwdrivers a person needs.

So, if not car shaped cologne or tools, what then?  Meaningful conversation?  There are many reasons I like cars.  Included in that list is the fact that a car is essentially a tiny little room with two comfortable seats and a loud stereo.  Conversation with one person is possible, but not recommended.  Besides that, people tend to clam up about the same time the rear tires lose traction.  Something about lateral G-forces forcing the Broca against the inside of the skull.  Besides that, most of the things I think are total crap.  Nobody needs to hear that.

This gift thing is much more complicated than I ever thought.  Kinda like healthcare.  Who knew?  I knew that's who.  I guess it comes down to this: don't give gifts.  Greeting cards are a joke.  This consumer life we live is pointless.  Instead, make those who mean something to you understand every day that they are loved.  Tell funny stories, listen when you are spoken to, solve the problems you can, don't stress about the ones you can't, and above all, be kind to one another.  All I want for Christmas is you.  To think for yourself.  Happy Holidays from The CamFollower.com

Cheese

Even being mostly Vegan, I must admit it.  Anything can be improved with cheese.  After all, it’s not called elbow shaped pasta and ambiguous yellow sauce, it’s called mac and freakin’ cheese.  Ham sandwich?  Meh.  Ham and Swiss?  You can create an entire culture around the basically infinite possibilities of a ham and cheese.  Pasta is inedible without Parmesan.  Even apple pie could stand a little cheddar on it.  And in much the same cheesy way, almost any car is better with rear wheel drive.  Porsche, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Lotus, and Bugatti have never built a front wheel drive car.  But look in any random parking lot and all you see are front wheel drive cars.  If rear wheel drive is so great, why aren’t there more rear wheel drive cars?  Because it’s more difficult to make a rear wheel drive car, and as a result, they cost more.

The clearest example today is the Toyota 86 / Subaru BRZ.  To an auto enthusiast on a budget, there is a short list of cars they want.  So short in fact that if you want to leave the showroom with a new, relatively simple and lightweight rear-drive sports coupe for less than $25K, the 86 stands alone.  But almost any car is faster than an 86.  Hell, most delivery vans will embarrass it in a stoplight drag race.  You can get much faster cars for that money, but you can not get a rear-drive performance car without spending more.  So what is so special about rear-drive, and why is it so hard to find?

The second part of the question is easier to answer – why is it so hard to find a rear wheel drive car?  Cars are made by companies that exist only to pay dividends to investors, line the pockets of crooked politicians, and provide crap coffee to their employees.  As such, soulless engineers conspire with unimaginative bean counters to ensure only efficiently produced products see the light of day.  Safety, packaging, weight, and production efficiency are more important than any perceived advantage rear wheel drive may provide.  The economies of mass production dictate front wheel drive cars.  That is one reason why the Honda Accord Sport is quantifiably better than a BMW 320i in every way, even though it is $10K less expensive.  It is so much harder for BMW to produce the drab little 320i than it is for Honda to churn out the Accord that it pales in comparison despite a large price gap.  In all empirical measures, and to most people, the Honda is the better car.

Or is it?  To answer the first part of the question – what’s so special about a rear wheel drive car – I’m forced to employ hyperbole and bad metaphors to illustrate very complex physics.  Moving a two-ton object across the face of the planet requires a lot of energy.  The simplest example of this would be a sizable chunk of rock rolling down a hill.  As long as there is enough momentum to overcome friction, the rock will continue to roll.  In order to change the direction of the rock, a small Alpine village must be placed in its path.  Several crushed chocolate kitchens later, the rock has gained a new heading, but somebody has to clean up all that cocoa.  That is basically what the front tires of your car do.  They don’t really care about spilled cocoa, but they do determine the vector of a two-ton object.  It’s hard work to move that kind of mass around, but it is achieved easily enough with the same steering mechanism that has been around since the invention of the wheel. 

However, not only must the front tires determine the direction of travel, they must also perform most of the car’s the braking duties.  Rear wheel only brakes are great to a ten-year-old on a BMX.  However, the idea of pullin’ a bitchin’ 180 would terrify the average driver.  As a result, not only do the front tires tell the car where to go, they determine the speed at which the car may travel.  So of the three possible motions of a car – turning, braking, and accelerating – the front tires are totally awesome at the turning and braking stuff.  Two out of three ain’t bad.  But asking them to be responsible for everything – turning, braking, and accelerating – would be like asking you to make love to a beautiful woman, in front of your mother, while defusing a bomb.  Something is going to go horribly wrong.

So, if asking the front wheels to be responsible for every motion of the car is such a bad idea, why are there so many front wheel drive cars?  Because until you go really, really fast, most people can not tell the difference between any car, be it front wheel drive, all wheel drive, or warp drive.  Why invest the extra money in a rear wheel drive car when there are no practical benefits?  Most people who buy a BMW or Mercedes do so because they are able to, and have no idea which end of the car is driven.  But they have some idea of what successful people drive, and many times it is a car that is expensive enough to be rear wheel drive.

But in reality, none of this matters.  When it comes down to it, the combination of modern tires and computers defy physics.  Even those of us who drive aggressively enough to realize the benefits of rear wheel drive usually end up with front wheel drive cars.  A case in point, the Ford Fiesta ST, probably the homeliest of all sporting cars, is an absolute riot.  It’s a playful little puppy of a car.  It’s fun all of the time.  It is fast enough to enjoy the sense of speed, but not so fast that you can never use its performance.  Meanwhile the Dodge Challenger, in all its Honest-to-God American Hemi V8 glory, is an absolute pig.  Excessive weight and size combined with a chassis that dates back to the Reagan administration conspire to eliminate any rear wheel drive advantage.  It is simply horrible to drive, despite its available power.

So what is the point?  Maybe that it doesn’t really matter which wheels are driven.  Back before the late 90’s Honda Prelude SH, real sports cars were rear wheel drive.  Period.  But cars like the old Prelude SH, and modern cars like the Fiesta ST, Civic Type R, and Golf GTi prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that front wheel drive can deliver attainable performance without the added weight and complexity of rear wheel drive.  Regardless, find something you like and learn to drive it in a way that you may have an opinion on such things.  Then go online and realize just how wrong you are.

Fan Boy

I am of that age that I can remember seeing the first Star Wars movie.  I know, I know, it is actually the 4th story in the series, but back in 1977 none of that mattered.  What did matter was Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and that adorable Princess that refused to wear a bra.  It was a big deal.  We didn't stand in line to get in or any of that silliness.  We saw a matinee (most likely with popcorn coupons) weeks after the premiere because that's how my dad rolled.  Anyway, I loved the movie.  No surprise there.  But I didn't LOVE the movie.  I didn't collect all 243 Kellog's Star Wars cereal boxes.  Eventually, a few birthday and Christmas gifts were indeed Star Wars related, but I didn't get all the toys.  I had friends that had everything they could force their parents to buy for them.  Star Wars figures, vehicles, posters, toothpaste, candy, underwear...  I found that all a little unsettling.  Sure, it made life a little easier when birthdays rolled around.  It's hard to get a gift when you don't know anything about a person.  But for my best friend Sam's birthday?  One random Star Wars trinket coming right up.  I didn't understand why he loved Star Wars, but it made gift giving, conversation, even a friendly relationship relatively simple to maintain.

I'm not making fun of Sam here.  He was a very good friend.  The point I am trying to make is that sometimes there is no reason for the popularity of some things.  Star Wars was somewhat spectacular in 1977, but it wasn't all THAT.  In the automotive world, there are countless examples of mediocre cars garnering a massive following, while some truly spectacular machines are largely ignored.  The Mustang, for instance, has generally been a horrible car.  It was a cheap sedan-based coupe with wheezing engines designed to separate dollars from rednecks.  But don't say that to most Mustang owners.  Even the base 4 cylinder 1980's Mustang was cool, at least to the people that had them.  And that is exactly what Ford was going for.  Ignoring for a moment the chassis dynamics of a river barge, pinto engine, and Rubbermaid interior: it had a chrome running horse on the grille, just like Steve McQueen's green car in Bullett.  Of course, neither car actually had a horse on the grille, but I digress.

Another prime example would be the Porsche 944.  It was slow and expensive, but it was cool.  So cool that in some circles they are revered to this day.  Your Grandmother's ancient Ford Tempo V6 (with an automatic) would easily outrun the 944 in a drag race.  "The best chassis in the 80's" is what I've heard.  How would you know, the damn thing never built up enough speed to test the simple strut / trailing arm suspension.  There was simply no way the 944, even with a hairdryer strapped to the motor, was anything but a fashion accessory.  Meanwhile, the brilliant early 90's Sentra SE-R was loved by nobody.  Sure, the press sang its praises constantly, but there were no waiting lists at Nissan showrooms, despite generally embarrassing most "sports" cars of the day.  It looked too much like your librarian's car for anybody to notice how wonderful it was.

What I'm getting at is that from time to time I may be asked about my opinions on cars.  In fact, that is the whole basis for this nonsense wasting your time right now.  When asked, my answer is commonly misunderstood.  An example of a real conversation I recently had:

Not a car guy: "What is the best car in the world?"

The CamFollower: The Series 1 Jaguar XK-E coupe.

Not a car guy: "Hmmm?"

The CamFollower: It's old.

Not a car guy: "But that thing is small, fragile, slow, unreliable, smells funny, leaks oil, and has wire wheels."

The CamFollower: OK, then.  Honda Odyssey.

Not a car guy: "A Honda Odyssey is the best car in the world? But that's a minivan!"

The CamFollower: Yes, but it is roomy, economical, safe, fast, and reliable.

Not a car guy: "But it's a minivan."

The CamFollower: Then I'm afraid you don't understand your question.

Actually, I am quite jealous of people like Sam.  He did not question why he liked Star Wars, he just did.  He didn't question many things, come to think of it.  Certainly not the big things like life, the universe, and everything.  Still, he was certain about the things he liked and disliked.  It must be blissful to face life with certainties.  I, on the other hand, question everything.  An existential crisis is my normal state of being.  Or maybe it's hyperbole, I'm not sure.  I don't have even have any idea what the best car in the world is.  Probably the Porsche 944.

Experts

I can't stand "experts".  Because most of the time "experts" turn out to be "salesmen".  Want the best fridge in the world?  Don't ask the guy that sells them.  You will end up with the one that makes him the most money, regardless of your needs.  Want to protect your family from financial disaster?  Don't ask the guy that sales life insurance.  Want the best car for your needs?  Well, you get the picture.

I will be the first to admit I don't know everything.  Sure, I know most things about cars, but I have a very limited notion of, for instance, fashion.  My closet is split into cargo pants for work, and cargo pants for days off.  Oh, and cargo shorts for warm weather.  I know what a suit is, but I do not own one.  If I am required to buy a suit, I am at the mercy of the salesman.  Luckily, here in the artsy-fartsy southern town in which I live, finding a dude to fashion me all up is easy.  Some guys live for that crap.  And when I need that particular skill, I am willing to pay for it.

But when the guy at True Value pounces on me right inside the door just dying to know why I came in today, I get a little frustrated.  See, I know why I am at the hardware store.  I am there for a 3/4 hose thread by 3/4 MPT fitting so that I can connect a garden hose to the ball valve I just installed.  And I don't want to explain why I used a ball valve instead of a hose bib.  Or why it has to be brass instead of galvanized.  Or that it is on an industrial machine, and not my house.  Or that the weather is nice today, or that I don't care for any free popcorn, or that I don't need a new kink-proof garden hose, but thank you anyway.  Once having successfully navigated the plumbing department exchange with my new best friend, I am again forced to explain why I don't have a rewards card to the adorable cashier.  Only to find that the girl at the register has to talk into her little walkie-talkie because the barcode won't scan.  And the very same guy that wouldn't leave me alone just a minute ago has to literally run up to the register so he can take the fitting back to the plumbing department and contact the Swiss Guard, who inform the Holy Father of the shortcoming, which requires a gathering of the College of Cardinals to find the correct passage and verse in order to process the request for an override so that I can hand over my money and leave the store with the fitting that absolutely nobody in the history of True Value believes, in their heart, is the correct fitting for my application.

The problem is not that the helpful hardware folks are anything but, rather, the guy that actually knew what you needed has closed his hardware store and retired, because he can't possibly compete with mega stores full of products whose purpose eludes the very people there to help you purchase the product in the first place.  And hardware stores represent only a fraction of the problem.  Speed shops do not exist anymore.  I don't mean auto parts stores, I can see three of those from my house.  I mean speed shops where the guy behind the counter not only knew timing specs for your Windsor (it depends on the cam, carb, and exhaust, by the way) but could also recommend a good BBQ place (12 Bones down by the river).  He would also not look at you like you were CRAZY for wanting to put an LS in a Cobra replica.  Speed shops were places where creativity and ingenuity were not only accepted, but expected. 

I am sure this online world has eliminated any possibility of a local specialty automotive store, along with your local Hi-Fi retailer, or even a Radio Shack.  But it has created a situation where almost anything you ever wanted to know about almost anything you can think is at your fingertips.  Most of it is crap (I place this blog fully in that category) but from time to time real nuggets of insight are found.  It's just too bad that it is not possible to make a living peddling parts for obscure European cars anymore.  Unless it is online.

The Customer is Almost Never Right

The customer is always right; unless they are wrong.  It seems counterintuitive, but it is usually the case that the very attributes that drew you to something in the first place are not what you would want to keep, given the chance to "improve" it.  It happens constantly.  Remember Hardee's Turkey Burger?  Nobody else does either.  But when a research council posed the question to a panel of consumers, almost everybody said the best way to improve the Thickburger was to reduce the fat and calories.  The Turkey Burger was the perfect solution.  It was exactly what the consumers asked for.  It was a big, thick burger with fewer calories and fat than the cow version.  Except it was dry and bland, tasting more like an old work boot than anything resembling food.  New Coke, Doritos Wow chips, and Crystal Pepsi are all examples of marketing studies that not only missed the mark, they ruined the original product. 

What has tortilla chips that cause diareah to do with The CamFollower?  As it turns out, many cars fall victom to the same market research disambiguation.  Almost uniformily, things are ruined by "improvements."  An easy example: back in the 1950's GM capitalized on the notion that they could wrest a few dollars from the hands of young successful veterans.  Instead of buying an MGA or Triumph TR3, the red-blooded American hero could get a Chevrolet equivalent.  As a result, the newly introduced Corvette was an instant success, despite the weak performance. This pushed Ford to counter with the Thunderbird a year later.  It was just as fetching, but with more power and sophistication it soundly trounced the Corvette.  Of course, it took Chevy only a few years to catch up with the 1956 Fuel Injected Corvette.  But by then Ford had asked the buyers of the original Thunderbird what could be done to improve it. 

And in 1958 Ford introduced the "all-new and improved" Thunderbird.  Instead of svelte looks and performance to match, it had a back seat.  When asked, the average consumer wanted a little more room in their two seat sports car.  Later ford added another set of doors to its two door coupe, because consumers wanted  easier access to the back seat.  Thus in a few short years the Thunderbird was ruined utterly. 

A similar story is the Cadillac Seville STS.  When introduced even Jeremy Clarkson liked it.  It had presence, with a wide stance, laid back windshield, and thick C pillars.  Not only was it was a looker, it had shocking performance from a 32 valve 4 cam V8 that could run without coolant.  But when queried, focus groups wanted better visibility, easier access to the reat seats, and a softer ride.  The 1998 Seville STS was the right anwer, but to the wrong question.  The STS had gone from a credible BMW alternative to a nice Oldsmobille.  Similarly, the 1997 Camry was a pale shadow of the previous generation, but it ticked all the boxes of the customer research questionare.  The Porsche 928 was never better than the 911 it was to replace.  The 240Z could not be improved, no matter how many numbers and letters were

added.  The RX8 is hardly one better than the RX7.  And the original Honda CR-V reflects its Land Rover roots, while the later iterations were more Civic than Rover.

Luckily, there are a few examples of purity of intention.  The Dodge Viper is probably the easiest to identify.  It was originally a marketing ploy by Bob Lutz, then the man at Chrysler.  Something was needed to bring the ailing giant out of the K-Car age, and nothing would do it quite like the Viper.  Its original premise was "more power and more speed than anyone else."  There is nothing in there about comfort, economy, safety, technology or anything else that consumers find important.  It made a superbike seem practical.  Somehow the Viper never lost the plot.  It didn't gain a back seat, it usually had hood stripes and sidepipes, and the roof was always an option.  Driving the Viper was mostly terrifying, requiring a real superhero feat of concentration and skill to operate quickly.  But with practice, it is rewarding like no other car in recent memory.

So, be careful what you wish for, it might not turn out exactly how you expect it to.

Roads in America

Occasionally, I travel for work.  I am talking about the work that I do most days that actually increases my financial acumen, The Cam Follower representing more of a liability than an asset.  But The Cam Follower is always there with me, hiding just behind my eyes waiting to geek out on a Corvair Monza Spyder Turbo.  We all have our crosses to bear.  Anyway, during my recent trip, I visited The Automobile Gallery in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  What a great place!  It is filled with many beautiful cars, mostly domestic, all cool.  During our dinner, I had the great fortune of finding myself at a table with the entertainment for the evening.  No, it wasn't Rush.  But they were rock stars as far as I was concerned.

My new best friend, even if he doesn't know it, is Mike Kertscher.  He is the VP of Business Development at Road America.  That's right, Road Freakin' America!  My personal history with Road America dates back to the 1980’s. As a kid, I devoured car magazines, and they all used Road America at one time or another to beat on performance machinery.  While Laguna Seca has "The Corkscrew", and Watkins Glen "The Boot", neither has the speed or size of Road America.  It is a power course where most cars could reach top speed on the massive front straight.  In fact, Road America is basically a bunch of massive straights tied together with a little more than a dozen diabolical corners spread over a scenic 640 acres in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin. The size is what separated Road America from all the other tracks car magazines used. High-speed corners reveal spooky chassis dynamics simply unnoticed on shorter, slower tracks, allowing the reviewers to form more complete opinions of the machinery. At parking lot speeds a Lotus and a Lincoln are indistinguishable. As speed increases, the differences become obvious. And at Road America, it is indeed possible to find the differences between very high-performance machinery.

In addition, Elkhart Lake sounded like a magical place to The Young Cam Follower.  Jags, Porsches, Ferraris, LeMans prototypes, and cheese.  That's all bases covered as far as I could tell.  Modern Road America represents even more, with historic races, club events, IMSA, Indy Car, AMA, driving schools, Lemons, Chump Car, carting, athletic events, and even a zip line.  And the biggest surprise to me is that no matter the event, from a local SCCA time trial to the NASCAR race, it will not be sold out.  The place is so big there is simply no capacity limit.  I can't think of any other entertainment venue, let alone sporting event, that has a guarantee of attendance.  Want to see the Cowboys?  Better plan ahead.  And know a guy.  And be a senator or the Pope or something.  Want to see the Historics at Road America?  Come on down! My friend Juls will even set you up with a golf cart to make getting around the more than half a thousand acres easier.  After spending a little time with Mike and Juls it became clear to me that they actually care about the racing, the community, and the people that show up day after day to watch the cars go ‘round. It's more than just a (dream) job to them.  Road America represents the very best in independent racing facilities because of the efforts of the staff. It was an honor to have met Mike and Juls. They didn’t even seem to notice my geeking out over the Corvair. Next time you are anywhere near Chicago, drop in on them. I promise you will not only get through the gate, you will enjoy whatever you find inside.

The only disappointment is that it's not really shaped like a huge "RA" like the logo would lead you to believe.  Nothing is perfect, I suppose...