When the French say “Vive la Difference!”, I doubt they were talking about the difference between aeronautically sound and advanced airplanes and whatever kind of flying aquaria/blimp gondolas the various French designers of the ‘20s and ‘30s were thinking about. However, one can’t deny that there is a difference there… and it is a big one!
Since I already have the Amiot 143 from Heller, it should come as no surprise that I also have the nearly-equally-hideous Potez 540 in my collection! So, with spring about to sprung (or something) I thought it would be good to have a look at what is one of the ugliest ducklings to take to the skies of interwar Europe.
Check out the 1/72 Potez 540 at the link below, and remember, someone, somewhere, thought THIS was a great idea. There’s a reason they don’t make ‘em like THAT anymore!
If anyone in the U.K. is inspired to attempt a similar French aerotrocity it might be worth noting Hannants have the Kovozavody Prostejov boxing of another pass-the-parcel set of Heller moulds, the Bloch MB-200 (also boxed as the Aero MB-200) on sale at a reduced price of £15.33…
Man, how many times in the history of the humanity has that happened?
A bit of a stretch, but when I read your post I was immediately taken back to a band I was mixing back in the 90’s. Please note that this was a jazz band comprised of extremely talented musicians. BUT…the “singer” was not one of them. She could sing a tune, sure, but she was not a singer - not by any stretch of the imagination. During sound check she started making a fuss over her monitor. This is usually the first indication that the person doesn’t know how to listen, (which is kind of important for a musician) and a warning of what is about to come. The fussier she got, (she wanted her voice to be louder, and louder, and louder in the monitor) the more awkward it got on stage. All the other band members where looking any where but in her direction. It was at this point, forgetting that their manager was seated beside me, that I mumbled, “Whose girlfriend is this chick?”. The manager stifled a giggle. I tried to apologize for my unprofessional remark, but he just keep giggling.
The review in the paper the next morning suggested that the band dump the screecher. Ouch.