Photo credit: Flickr user Rock Chalk Jayhawk Cartographer. Original here.

Exterior design is always subjective. And when you’re dealing with a brand with so much heritage, it can be a herculean task to create a new shape within the context of a new model range. But that’s exactly why the Countryman is so impressive. In this vehicle MINI has both departed and embraced the visual language that they have so carefully crafted over the last 10 years.

If you’re not a regular Motoringfile reader, it’s worth mentioning that this R60 crossover model is easily the most contentious move MINI has made since its reintroduction to America in 2002. The very idea of this car deeply divided the enthusiast community, and beyond just the cainophobiacs in the comment section. Everyone was skeptical, including myself, that an SUV — even a small “crossover” SUV — had any place in the MINI catalogue.  It seemed like pandering to the bad taste of mainstream american drivers simply to hedge MINI’s profit margins. It was abhorrent that the iconic Cooper hatch might have to share the marque with some overgrown, FJ Cruiser-like parody of itself. And had MINI gone down that path, I’d definitely be on the side of the unhappy mob — pitchfork in hand and torch aflame.

Thankfully, the design team at MINI have proven themselves masters of their craft from the very first incarnation of the R60, the Crossover Concept. Looking back on it now, it’s amazing just how closely the production car revealed today mirrors this concept vehicle from 2008.

What I thought then, and can only reiterate now with renewed enthusiasm, is that the only way a vehicle like this could work would be if it were uniquely MINI. It would have to be a vehicle with the character and cheek that only a MINI can have. The Crossover Concept had that, in my opinion, and so does the final car we’re seeing today. Looking back at the concept, you can see that it’s all there: the side grills, the lower door creese, the roofline, the big-mouth grill. Only the headlights have changed significantly. Even still, you can see their roots in the concept car. More than anything, I appreciate the great care and restraint shown by the MINI design team. This is a car of subtle elegance and rich detail. It’s not a gaudy mess of faux machismo. Instead, it’s a quietly confident little road warrior — a gentleman’s car of quiet distinction.

The interior of the R60 does not disappoint either. Taking obvious style cues from the rest of the MINI lineup, the Countryman’s interior is a much-needed refresh of the hatch’s fussy cockpit. The stereo controls appear to be significantly simplified for the better.

Changing over from the silver knobs and switches of the R56 back to the black of the R50/53 generation interior also quiets the whole center stack in a very good way. The dash isn’t so Mickey Mouse anymore. That is, except for the placement of those center air vents. C’mon, somebody had to say it! Lastly, given how much more comfortable the R56 seats are than my R53, I’m glad to read this tidbit from Gabe:

Having sat in a pre-production version of seats, I can personally confirm that the bolstering (both in the bottom seat cushion and seat back) is decidedly superior to the current sport seats in the R56.

All in all, I’m just thrilled about this car. Conceptually and aesthetically I am completely in love with it. I have only two major gripes. First, all indications are that the high-performance 2.0L diesel powerplant available in Europe will not make it to our shores. I’m looking at you, California! This is disappointing from both a fuel economy standpoint and the massive amount of torque the diesel would have provided this little AWD monster. I’d wager that in diesel trim, the Countryman would make a wonderful light tow vehicle. The silver lining is that MINI has recently announced significant efficiency and power gains to their current range of engines, which will also power the Countryman. According to MINI, by adding fully variable valvetrain to their already fuel thrifty, direct-injected engines, they’ve been able to add both power and efficiency over what we see in today’s MINI lineup. The Cooper S’s turbocharged 1.6L powerplant, for example, will be boosted to 184 hp and push the Cooper S hatch to around 40 mpg average fuel economy. That’s particularly encouraging because it could be plausible to still get 30 mpg or better out of the Countryman is Cooper S trim, even with its increased size and AWD system.

Which brings me to my second gripe: naming. I don’t mind the name Countryman, as it has roots in MINI’s heritage. What I think is, well, stupid, is that it’ll just say Cooper S on the boot. The Cooper is the hatch, dammit. Variations on the hatch make sense as Coopers, such as the convertible or the Clubman. This is an entirely different vehicle, yet for reasons lost to me, the full name will end up being MINI Cooper Countryman, or MINI Cooper S Countryman, or John Cooper Works MINI Cooper S Countryman depending on which model you get. Ridiculous. Why isn’t it simply the MINI Countryman or Countryman S? Retaining Cooper in this model doesn’t make any sense to me and smacks of a decision made because someone was afraid that people won’t know what it is if the name Cooper isn’t on it somewhere — even with a gigantic MINI logo on the boot! I didn’t like this convention with the MINI Cooper Clubman either, but at least with the Clubman it makes basic conceptual sense. The Clubman is an extended wheelbase version of the hatch. It’s the same base car. The Countryman is based on the BMW X1 and is a 4-door for goodness’ sake! It’s not the same car, and that’s okay. That’s a good thing.

These are minor gripes, though. They don’t hamper my enthusiasm for the car one bit and especially given my recent experience driving the Clubman, the MINI Countryman may in fact be the car that finally unseats me from my beloved 2006 MINI Cooper S. That will, of course, depend heavily on pricing and the reality of how it drives. But something tells me that given the absolutely stellar job MINI has done with the look and character of what we’ve seen so far, the driving experience is likely to be simply superb. I’m not expecting it to be able to chase down a Cooper S hatch through the Tail of the Dragon, but I bet it’ll still feel right at home in the corners.

Hi, if you have possible interest in a promotional barter, we have interest from
[big-name brand] for an annual [event].

We need to tweak our .com art. Please advise if you may have interest.

Sounds interesting enough, but pretty vague as to what exactly the scope of that “tweak” would be and just what they’d be offering in trade. I think there’s absolutely nothing wrong with doing design work, or any work, in trade for something that isn’t money. In fact, I wish more of our economy worked on the barter system. I have a side project going right now that’s being paid in trade, and I’m really excited about what I’m getting in return for my time, effort, and expertise. It’s a great arrangement if you’re not trying to make a living as a freelancer. The catch, however, is that the client does still need to offer up something of meaningful value in trade for work done, even if it’s not cash.  So this was my reply:

I’d definitely be interested in knowing more about your needs. My first question is just what you mean by a “promotional barter” – that is, what are you offering in return for some graphics work?

I really do like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but this isn’t my first rodeo. Design, as a professional discipline, is chronically undervalued by people who don’t have regular experience working with professional designers or creative services agencies. I don’t think it’s malicious, but part of being a thick-skinned creative is learning not to flinch when people think what you do is either very easy or completely worthless. Their response:

In addition to the project being a useful promotion to enhance your portfolio, we can list you at [their website] ‘Credits’.

You’ve gotta love the classics. I’d bet every designer has heard this line at least once in their career. Honestly, it’s pretty hard not to be insulted by this kind of presumptive devaluation of what we do every day. Imagine going to your auto mechanic and saying “In return for fixing my car, I’ll let you take a picture of my car for your lobby and I’ll put a sticker on my engine that says ‘this car was fixed by Jim.’ Deal?” Sounds ridiculous, right? Yet designers get this all the time. I really don’t mean to be flippant, and I’m certain that the individual who contacted me meant no harm. I just don’t understand why people think that designers should be so willing to work for little or nothing.

Sure, it would be nice to have [big-name brand]‘s logo on my resume, but I’m not exactly hurting for big-name logos — in fact I helped redesign a couple that are already on there. Maybe that’s why this bugs me so much. I’ve been doing this professionally (that is, for a living) for the better part of a decade now. The only time — the only time — it’s even remotely acceptable to suggest that a designer work for you purely for the benefit of his or her portfolio is if it’s your niece and she’s still in design school. But even then, it’s pretty unfair. She can and should get paid for any work she does for a real world client — period. She shouldn’t be charging a whole lot, but her time and her expertise, limited as it may yet be, are still valuable — still worth something.

Thing is, when someone offers me “portfolio work” they’re not actually doing me a favor, even if I were still in school. I can create essentially “fake” ads and designs for Nike or Apple or any other big-name brand and put them in my portfolio whenever I want. They don’t have to be actual projects to have a place in my book. Designers and copywriters use the term “spec work” to describe portfolio pieces that were either unused or unsolicited by a brand — and most creatives’ books have such work in them. Mine has several samples in it that never saw the light of day, but they’re good ideas and a great demonstration of how I think. CMYK Magazine is full of this kind of work — brilliant student ad concepts, designs, and photography done for household name brands with neither their input nor their permission. But each showcasing the skill and creativity of the designer or writer. That’s what a portfolio is ultimately about — demonstrating my professional creativity on my terms — not as a default repository for any project I happen to work on. Sure, showcasing actual projects is a great way to build credibility, but a wise veteran copywriter once told me, “Your portfolio is the only place in your entire career where you get do exactly the kind of work you want to do. No budget constraints, and no fearful client feedback to compromise your ideas. What would you do if you could do anything? That’s what your portfolio should be about.” I’m still trying to live up to that in my own portfolio, but I’m also really fortunate. I’ve got a lot of good, actual work to show for my time in the industry. But if I were looking to do work just for my book’s sake, it sure wouldn’t be for people who assume my work is worthless from the start.

I’m not alone. Here are more examples from Clients from Hell:

Is $300 a fair price for your time? Or if you want, I can pay you in X-Men comics as I have a few grand worth gathering dust!

Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t just be interested in making money. I wanted you to understand how much you could learn from me, and how valuable that would be. That’s why I think $12/hr is a fair rate for you to produce the website. If you can’t work for this rate than you miss out.

We will pay you when the site is making profit.

So, you’re saying that it will take 2 days to complete this illustration. If we give you the project today, can we have it tomorrow afternoon at half the price?

We don’t have a lot of budget for this project but feel it would make a great portfolio piece and would really be worth the experience.

… and by the way, I can’t afford to pay you for this job, but you will be paid in karma — which is so much better and more permanent anyway.

We’re not happy with the concept you sent over, as a result we don’t feel we should have to pay for it. Can you please send over the design so far as a word document so we can change it ourselves.

I don’t want to pay for something that might not be what I want – can you make up a few working samples of my site and send me all the stuff for it? Then I can try them out and choose the one I like best.

Prospective client: $400 for a logo?! Why are you so expensive? My nephew has Photoshop—I can just get him to do it.
Me: Does your nephew have Microsoft Word?
Prospective client: Yes.
Me: Then have him write you a novel while he’s at it.

“Illustrator and conceptual thinker Norio Fujikawa gets full-marks for this radical Jetscooter concept. Based in San Fransisco the designer has a penchant for futuristic ideas, with retro styling, and transport innovation that might become a reality in, say 2025. Until then we can only marvel and this creative genius.”

I can’t help but greatly admire Mr. Fujikawa’s vision with this design. It’s such a magnificent mix of classic forms and the jet age, technological optimism. This is the future I want to live in — a future imagined in the ’60s and perfected in our post-modern cynicism. Where can I get one? Sign me up.

See the original post, including more fabulous photographs of the concept.

On Friday Palm launched their highly anticipated smartphone, the Pre, just as Apple was likely to (and subsequently has) reveal the latest version of the iPhone. So naturally, there are a flurry of tech blog articles and news source stories about “Is the Palm Pre the phone to unthrone the iPhone?”

Microsoft just launched Bing, its answer to Google search. WolframAlpha’s computational engine also just launched a few weeks ago. In both cases, the press coverage, even on NPR, has almost entirely been along the lines of “Will Bing unseat Google?” or “Is WolframAlpha finally the Google killer?”

I know it makes for good copy, but why are so many comparisons of late framed as though we live in an either/or marketplace? Why does the Palm Pre have to “beat” the iPhone? Why does Microsoft Bing or Wolfram Alpha have to “kill Google?” Why can’t the Palm Pre simply be a capable smartphone? Is market dominance the only measure of success anymore? Truth is, the Pre doesn’t have to sell more units than the iPhone in order to be a success. That’s a very good thing for Palm, now that the iPhone 3Gs has debuted to fairly unanimous chants of “long live the king.” The Pre simply has to sell enough. Likewise, I can search Bing, and I can ask Wolfram Alpha more meaningful questions, but that doesn’t mean I have no room for Google. Why have we reframed the discussion as confrontation instead of competition?

My objection to this is primarily that it doesn’t actually reflect the reality of the marketplace. Using the Pre as an example again, I don’t think anyone at Palm anticipated that they’d convert a huge number of current iPhone users, or even significantly cut into new iPhone sales. So in this case, comparing phone to phone is not a really relevant to the buying reality for most of the people shopping for a smartphone. The real factor is network carrier. If I’m with Sprint, the Pre is really appealing — not because of exactly how it stacks up against the iPhone, but because it’s a capable smartphone that’s actually an option for me. Switching networks is a huge barrier if you’re still under contract. That also works both ways. Only the earliest of first generation iPhone users are even approaching the end of their original 2-year contracts, and many re-upped and upgraded to the 3G last year — so it’s not like they can easily or cheaply hop over to Sprint, even if they’re in love with the Pre. What’s the reality then? The reality is that now Sprint users have a great smartphone option that they didn’t have before. New customers have the best options of all, but I’d wager that isn’t who Palm is really going after here. I bet they’re mostly after the folks who don’t want or can’t have the iPhone, and that’s exactly who they should be after. There’s great success in being #2. Just look at Avis. Or even look at a different part of the tech industry — personal computers — where Apple is the stellar #2 player in the marketplace and probably always will be. They’re not out to kill Microsoft, because that’s not really a practical measure of success.

I really do think that there’s room enough for everybody — or at least room enough for lots of competitive choice in the marketplace. Competition is great, but is this artificial sense of confrontation really necessary? Competition leads to more choice, to more innovation, to downward price pressure. If we only allow one winner, that leads to monopoly, to higher prices, and technological stagnation. Being top dog may have made Microsoft a lot of money, but it’s done it few other favors. The real goal then, I think, is not to be the best. The goal is simply to be great. Except perhaps olympic athletes, few who strive simply at being the absolute best at something actually achieve it. Rather, people of passion, determination, and vision with a desire to do something great often inevitably find success. My favorite example of this is the TV show Mythbusters. Here are five people doing what they really like to do, and it happens to make for really good TV. In business, I think that if great sales, rather than sales dominance is the focus, then you’re likely to succeed regardless of what percentage of the marketplace is yours. So let’s forget about being better and focus on being great.

The Wired article almost completely misses what Mr. Andreani was actually saying. He isn’t describing a trend within scooters at all. He’s describing a trend toward motorcycle riders wanting automatic transmissions and ending up with a couple more scooter-like machines from the big manufacturers. The only people who would ever really refer to the Burgman or the TMax as scooters are motorcycle riders. Scooterists at their most generous would call them “maxi-scooters.” What’s more, that segment of big scooters is hardly exploding amongst scooter riders — at least here in the US. The TMax is the first new offering in a long while and it’s a net of nothing since Yamaha no longer offers the Majesty.

Mr. Andreani spends just a moment talking about how smaller scooters have trended toward larger wheels, but that’s hardly breaking news. I also take issue with his description of scooters being classified only has “cheap” and “big.” Of course he’s only actually talking about the European market — which is vastly different than the US scooter market — but all the same, it’s a gross oversimplification. The difference between the US market and the rest of the world is a distinction that seems lost on the fine folks at Wired as well. Bigger wheeled scooters are indeed much more popular in Europe, but the overall style here in the US is still geared more toward something with classic Vespa cuteness. That’s what sells here in vast numbers. That’s still the trend. Genuine Scooter Company sells Buddy 125s faster than PGO can make them. Europe and Asia tend toward more modern, sport-styled scooters like PGO’s GMax or most of the Kymco and Piaggio-branded offerings. But the States are still all about cute.

More than anything, his comments don’t relate to any actual trends within scooters and Mr. Borroz completely misses Mr. Andreani’s assessment of the TMax. The TMax is not a city scooter by any sensible assessment, and Mr. Andreani doesn’t actually make that assertion. What he is actually talking about is the scooter-ization of a certain segment of the motorcycle market, which is a completely separate subject all together, and actually very interesting. Bad form, Wired.

Want some perspective? Spend 5 minutes playing with Google SketchUP and realize just how much work goes into creating these amazing 3D films.

The MINI Cooper S and the Clubman followed, but more interestingly, the small car offerings in the US market at large got much better. The premium small car market since then has only really seen the introduction of the Volvo C30 and later the 1-series BMW. Premium small cars aside, the regular small cars available in the US simply got nicer by default. A great example of this is Scion’s redesigned 2008 xB. My wife just recently leased one to replace her petrol-chugging pickup truck, and we both really like it.

I didn’t particularly want to like this car. I was more interested in the Toyota Matrix. I liked the look of it better. I liked how the seats folded down flat and the nifty orange color it came in. I also liked the Honda Fit for similar reasons. But once we both drove the xB, we were sold. It is quieter than the Matrix, it’s significantly bigger than the Fit. Though the Fit gets better fuel economy, availability can be an issue and the xB is significantly larger and more comfortable. It’s got more pep and I dare say more personality. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it character, like my MINI has, but personality for sure. I think the previous generation of the xB was a better looking, more interesting car, but this new incarnation is neither ugly nor boring.

The 2.4L VVT-i engine, at 156 bhp, produces hardly ten fewer horsepower than my MINI Cooper S and the same torques at 162 ft/lbs. This makes the xB pretty quick for what is by all accounts an economy car. At 3020 lbs, it’s not portly, but not trim either. The 5-speed shifts smoothly, although the engagement point on the clutch is pretty narrow and I’d like more weight in the feel of the gear selector. It’s surprisingly easy to drive the xB aggressively. The engine is quick-revving and has a nice growl to it that rewards a well-matched downshift with a pleasant snarl.

The xB rides comfortably, and feels very sure footed for a car that simultaneously feels so tall. It soaks up road bumps much more comfortably than my MINI, but still turns in well and stays composed without a lot of drama or exorbitant body roll. The ABS brakes are more than adequate, although hardly sports car caliber. Traction and stability control systems are standard on the xB, as are a plethora of airbags. Cruise control and iPod integration are also standard on the new xB.

The interior is clever, but without trying too hard. Visibility is great, with no real blind spots. You’d think those wide C-pillars would get in the way, but they really don’t. The seats are standard economy Toyota fare — not uncomfortable, but hardly premium or plush. Were the ride less comfortable, I think the seats would wear on my body on longer trips. The four center-mounted gauges offer ample information to driver and passenger alike, and the xB even includes an onboard computer showing average fuel economy, real-time fuel economy, average speed, outside temperature, current time, and time spent on your current drive — features I had to pay extra for in 2006 on my MINI. Your speed is displayed in huge LCD numbers like an alarm clock. Can’t say I’m crazy about this. A dial is quicker to interpret at a glance. The driver’s seat has a goofy little inside arm rest that’s pretty much useless and could do with much more lumbar support. Also, the accessory power plug-ins are down at the base of the dash, meaning that you’ll need pretty long chords if you want to mount a GPS or a radar detector even to the base of your windshield.

The Pioneer stereo is another nice touch in the interior. The sound is great, as are the steering-wheel controls. My one complaint is that you’ve got to spin the volume wheel about 4,000 revs to dent the volume up or down. This eliminates that annoying spot between too loud and not loud enough, but at the expense of being able to simply reach over and turn the damn radio up or down with one flick of your thumb and finger. The iPod integration is standard, but hardly stellar. The standard AUX port will likely see more iPhone/iPod use in the long term.

Overall, our first and continued impressions of the Scion xB have been very favorable. In-town mileage, at 24-26 mpg, has been a revelation over the mrs’ former Tacoma. Every time I hop in the xB, I like driving it. It’s comfortable and feels very solid and reliable. It could be nicer. Some alloy rims would be a nice touch, as would the rear spoiler. But overall, the xB is an economy car that is much nicer than I ever expected it to be. At the end of our three year lease, I imagine we’ll probably be pretty tempted to go ahead and purchase it.

Hits

• Fuel Economy (22/28)
• Room
• Personality
• Standard creature comforts like Pioneer sterio, iPod integration and cruise control
• Standard safety features like traction and stability control
• Surprisingly powerful and better-than-average handling
• On-board computer telemetry

Misses

• Seats could be more supportive
• Volume control on the stereo is maddening
• Speed shown in giant numbers instead of a dial
• You should really opt for the rims and the spoiler
• I contend that the previous generation xB was better looking

It’s a strange thing how for a lot of scooters and motorcycles, the first time you ride it isn’t unitl after you buy it. I get it. Motorbikes require a minimum amount of riding experience and skill to operate at a basic level. You can’t just turn motorcycles and scooters over to people willy nilly. It makes a purchase decision difficult, however. In my case, I was coming from a scooter that I loved when I bought it, but came to hate because of the seating position — something that didn’t crop up until I started taking longer rides. Would the Vespa be better? Would it handle worth a damn? Would the brakes get the thing stopped in a controlled way? The best I could do was talk to people who owned GTs, read the online reviews, and trust the advice of the folks I’ve come know so well at Scooterville.

I met my new GT for the first time out behind Scooterville. Stephen, one of their ace mechanics, was getting the idle adjusted for me. The GT was making a nice, quiet, burbly “papapapapa” sound. I geared up and hopped on after getting the run-through on controls and things to keep in mind. I was a little bit apprehensive, I must admit. With mostly metal body-work, dropping a Vespa is a costly mistake.

Getting my bearings in the back parking lot at Scooterville, I pulled away up to 5 mph or so and tested the brakes. The brakes on the Blur are epic. Those brakes have ruined me. Seriously. When I grabbed the brake handles on the GT for the first time, I honestly thought something was wrong. I’m used to grabbing just a tad more rear brake and then adding in the front brake where all the power is supposed to be. The front disk on the GT felt like it was asleep. I parked, hopped off, and ducked back inside to get a second opinion. “Yep, that’s how they’re supposed to feel.”

Damn. What have I gotten myself into?

I was assured however, that they’d get better as they wore in. That was indeed the case, thankfully. About 20 minutes into my 90 minute ride home, I got a lot more comfortable with the brakes and the pads were indeed grabbing better and better. (note: It took about two weeks to get used to the nuance of the GT’s brakes and to get the pads well seated. I can testify that it stops very, very well. Not quite Blur-caliber, but what does?)

Confident that my brakes were at least functioning, I did a couple laps ’round Scooterville and finally headed toward West River Parkway in downtown Minneapolis. With this beautiful new machine, I was going to take the long way home. Making my way through the chain of lakes and finally into the western suburbs, I just couldn’t stop grinning. Not only was this beautiful machine mine, it was magnificent.

Riding Position
The biggest reason I sold the Blur and bought the GT was riding position. The saddle shape of the Blur seat meant you had one choice for where to put your butt, and it wasn’t a good one. The GT has a nice, flat, bench-style seat that could be a tad more supportive, but is comfortable overall. Where the GT really wins is in how low its footboards are. So someone tall like me can actually ride comfortably. What’s more, I actually have room to move my feet around and l can scoot back and forth on the bench seat. Lots of options, so it’s easy to stay comfortable.

Power
The GT has the torquey 4-valve, liquid-cooled, 200cc version of their LEADER-series engine, which cranks out around 22 hp. With the scooter’s weight a trim 320 lbs or so, it gets up and goes just like a scooter should, even with my big arse on it. Moving through parkway or city traffic, the acceleration can only be described one way: effortless. The GT is downright quick. I could tell right away that this thing was a speeding ticket waiting to happen.

Ride
I’ve often called Vespa the “Lexus of scooters.” This isn’t entirely accurate. They’re more like the Ferrari of scooters. Plush, powerful, gorgeous like only an italian machine can be, and upon close examination your left thinking “for something this expensive, you’d think the panels fit together better…” Oh yeah, ride. It’s very comfortable. The GT rides on 12″ wheels, which handle road roughness much better than the smaller 10″ wheels found on many smaller scooters. The suspension is forgiving but not bouncy. The front end is responsive without being darty (unlike my old P200E). The GT feels a tad butt-heavy, but not overly so. It’s very responsive to hip-checking it into a lean, and very responsive to counter-steering. It holds turns very well, albeit not as well as the Blur. The rear felt a little loose on that first ride — a little soft for my weight. Thankfully, the GT has a 4-position adjustable rear suspension. On setting #3, it’s perfect for me.

Telemetry
The headset, the switches, the gauges – they’re downright cute. There really isn’t a better word. You can tell that these aren’t just off-the-shelf controls from the motorcycle parts bin. The grip texture, the switch shapes, they’re all lovingly made. The turn signal switch was tricky to get used to at first, but I soon got the hang of it. I do have one big complaint: there’s no click or buzz sound to indicate that you’ve got your blinker on. Yeah, you should be in the habit of turning it off, but the auditory reminder is a nice safety touch.

Overall, I had a hoot of a time riding the GT home that day. No complaints at all in the areas that really matter. For the rest of the riding season, I came to appreciate the GT and Vespa more and more. I also discovered one particularly aggravating shortcoming, but that will have to wait for my long-term review. Stay tuned…