Man, when I was a kid, we’d make these Guillow’s wood framed airplane replicas. They were made of balsa wood, mostly. I loved building those crazy WWI biplanes and triplanes. The construction was unbelievably intricate. It was basically building the actual plane, just smaller. The wings and fuselage would get covered with some sort of flimsy paper stuff, and you’d paint it with some kind of toxic goo that gave you a headache for a month. Then you’d wind up the rubber band motor, the plane would immediately crash, and the whole thing would be destroyed.
I’m sorry, but Subarus can’t be cool. It’s an impossibility. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many wild, wacky stunts you perform in and around one, no matter how many sugar-caffeine-taurine drinks sponsor you, no matter how many leggy supermodels you get to stand next to your vehicles, you’ll always be a frumpy wagon with an elderly golden retriever in the back, a cross-country ski rack on the roof, and an elaborate lidded coffee mug in the cup holder. Embrace the meh.
(Thanks to old friend Charles Schneider for sending that one along)