Schrödinger's Train

Previously I've dabbled with some thoughts on the possible "death" of our hobby. This perennially touchy topic never fails to ignite passions on both sides of the fence. After having pondered the subject on and off before and since that essay, and after having participated in related message board discussions, I'm beginning to form a new premise of what's going on.

Regardless of whether or not our hobby is dying, certainly there's no denying that it's changing. In its inexorable march forward, technology naturally figures as a significant factor in this evolutionary process. It can be seen in the virtual flood of far higher-quality merchandise, the explosion of the oft-debated DCC, and the emergence of Rapid Prototyping. RP provides a means not only of verifying the part-making processes before cutting steel, but also of manufacturing model products directly. Some regard this still-emerging technology as the be-all-and-end-all of model-making techniques, although this is a mistake all too often made by starry-eyed would-be engineers when an exciting newfangled device makes its debut. There's no question that RP has its place, but it will never be all things to all modelers, as some might have you believe.

Observing online discussions is not a reliable way to gauge where the hobby as a whole is headed, simply because there's likely a silent majority that isn't online, and who knows what they're doing? But if the online population can be used in any way to illustrate a growing trend, then that trend is following a larger culture-shift that's influencing all aspects of life. In short, newer-generation modelers seem to be trending toward "instant gratification." Granted, with decreasing time for hobbies in our hectic, technology-saturated lives, who wants to sit and build something, such as a locomotive, by hand from scratch, when it might literally take years? Plunk down some dough and have that locomotive on the rails and running the next evening. After all, who can resist the lure of, say, a handsome, smooth-running, super-detailed Big Boy, complete with sound? Especially when cheap Chinese labor makes it affordable to the masses?

But "instant gratification" is not simply about acquiring things quickly; it's also manifested by the loss of interest in learning new skills, in delving into the myriad of things one needs to understand in order to build an entire layout. A synonym might be laziness; but regardless of the label used, the willingness to invest time and effort in a hobby seems to be evaporating. There's also tremendous competition from other pastimes such as video games, and it's a sad state of affairs. Surf around places such as YouTube, and after a while one begins to acquire a rather cynical attitude about much of our youth. (There are exceptions, of course; you know who you are, and you should not take umbrage at my generalizations if you happen to be one.)

Old-school craftsmen—sorry, craftspeople—are still around (justified or not, I regard myself as one), but I would place a very healthy bet that our numbers are dwindling. And one reason for this, I honestly believe, is owing to the fact that skills are not being handed down through the generations the way they used to be. More and more you'll find younger people are "skillset challenged": ironically they can operate laptops, cell phones and all manner of high-tech gadgetry, but show them a pair of needle-nose pliers and their faces go blank. I've met some otherwise intelligent people who literally did not know how to change a light bulb—I kid you not. While I would not insist that one must wind their own motors in order to be declared a modeler, I question the definition of "modeler" as applied to people who participate in a hobby where pre-builds and plug-and-play are becoming de rigeur.



Thus, model railroading seems to be moving toward a process of accumulation, and away from actual modeling. This shift is certainly reinforced by a steady flow of new merchandise designed to simplify and accelerate just about every facet of the hobby. Manufacturers are not idiots; if they perceive a need, they'll fill it—and often will go further, introducing collateral needs by developing lines of products that are co-dependent. I think this process may be fueling what appears on the surface to be a growth spurt in the hobby. But does it truly represent growth, or instead the funneling of more products into the hands of a relatively stagnant group of hobbyists who increasingly have more money than time? This is very difficult to answer, because there are virtually no reliable metrics.

Although one need not be Darwin to see that model railroading is evolving, increasingly I perceive the hobby as being akin to Schrödinger's cat.

The Real Experts

They're out there: the real experts. You often see them popping up in such places as YouTube, where they share their vast knowledge with the world in the comments section. Yes, as odd is it may appear, as counterintuitive as it might seem, this is where true wisdom can be found. We who post our videos, touting our meager understanding, must yield to their superiority.

I have a train set I bought from Toys R Us. Its alot bigger. Where I came from....bigger is better.

I'll admit to having learned a great deal this way; I had no idea that I had such huge gaps in my awareness of the hobby until I posted this video of my N scale model of an HO scale layout two and a half years ago. Since that time I've come to realize that what I created is not an N scale model of an HO scale layout. Indeed, it's not N scale at all; it might be Z scale, and more likely T scale. Or, I either used a giant dime from a novelty shop, or shot the model on a green screen. But regardless of what I actually built, it is most certainly not a model train, since it has no wheels.

Very cute. But it's not a model train. It's a plastic shape of a model train being moved around in a circle by outside forces.

Regular readers are likely rolling their eyes, wondering why I'd expend even the slightest bit of energy worrying about what amounts to nothing more than background noise. In short, it's amusing. It's fun—in an admittedly perverse way—to see how people who don't know me, have never met me, and have never seen anything I've made in person, can claim what I am or am not capable of doing. Even more entertaining is how people with little to no understanding of the hobby (matched with a complete inability to spell or form a sentence) can assert that what I built is not what I say it is. And then when you throw in the concept of a model of a model, you can almost see their heads explode.

what the hell....thats not n scale! thats more like tt scale

Experienced modelers and those familiar with my work may wish to skip the next bit, because it's just a bunch of horn-tooting for the sake of those who may have strayed into my blog for the first time. I've been modeling steadily since 1965. I've worked in HO, N, Z and T scales; in particular, I've been working in the latter three scales for as long as they've existed. I've published magazine articles on the subject, and I maintain several modeling websites (see the links in the section About 1:160, top right). I've also earned the respect and admiration of many peers, who will attest to my skills. In short, I am a professional modeler. I certainly don't know absolutely everything about the hobby—no one can, in any practical sense—but at the very least I do know what I've made with my own hands.

that is probably not real think about how big a dime is all is what u have to do is get a picture or video from across the room and blow up the dime to huge

I suppose my point of bringing this up is just a means to vent a little frustration. How is it that I can spell out precisely what I've built, and even how I built it, yet people will still contradict me? Is there a way to deal with this—other than simply ignoring ignorance when it's staring me in the face? I confess that it's difficult for me to let it go, particularly when I'm accused of being a fraud. Then again... perhaps these accusations of fraud might signal that I've well and truly become noteworthy; if I'm able to trick some people into thinking I'm pulling something over on them, then I may have succeeded beyond my wildest expectations.

its eather ran in front of green screen or its t scale. thats too small to be n. but think how much use that thing has had. id bet veary little... its veary cool and interseting but its not N. N scales about the sizy of a finger as far as locos go. id reserch it. id bet its T scale or a costum made piece... if u knew anything at all u would know that Z is bigger than that whole layout. before u go saying something is nonsence get ur facts.

At any rate, while it may be a futile effort, it would be nice to find a way to convince people who have no idea what they're talking about that it just so happens I do know what I'm talking about. Until then, I may as well have a little more fun watching all the "real experts" out there make complete fools of themselves.

Anyone who believes its real is a dumbass...

A Toy Story

Kids often have better toys than us adults. For many years I've been wanting to model a drive-in theater. I'm not the only one; some entrepreneurs (such as Chris Miller of Miller Engineering) have offered up limited-run kits to tempt us. Unfortunately, such novelties (understandably) carry fairly steep price tags.

Some skilled modelers have built their own, taking advantage of compact LCD displays. But while undeniably fun and clever, making use of this sort of display technology has a cosmetic drawback: it requires a fairly substantial enclosure around the screen, which detracts from realism. My desire has always been to actually project the image, in the same manner as the real thing; this would allow the use of a realistically-designed screen that can even be curved like many real ones, as well as faithfully reproduce the visual effect of a projected image, which differs subtly from that of an LCD display.

The drawback to my approach is cost: video projectors—such as those used for business presentations, teleconferencing and such—while getting cheaper, are still seriously expensive. Not to mention bulky, with the typical projector being roughly the size of a toaster oven. More recently, a new generation of incredibly compact projectors has come onto the market; these devices are equivalent in size to a pack of cigarettes. The basic problem, however, remains the same: cost. It's hard to justify (at least for me) spending between four and five hundred dollars just for a cute modeling effect.

But as technology evolves ever more rapidly, it also shows up in unexpected places—in this case, the toy department of the local Target. Whilst Christmas shopping this year, I strayed into the toy section to see what potential modeling goodies might be found. There, on the discount rack, sat the "Eye-Clops," a miniature video projector for kids. At less than a hundred bucks, it practically leapt off the shelf and into my hands! (It's currently available at Amazon for half-price.)



What's even more amazing is that, after I connected it to an old $30 CyberHome DVD player (one that was not only mind-bogglingly cheap, but also capable of playing practically anything loaded into it, including foreign PAL-format DVDs) and aimed it at a piece of paper, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the picture, while not particularly bright, was remarkably—indeed, impressively—crisp and clear. It took mere seconds for me to conclude that I'd just found the functional guts of my drive-in theater at last.

Despite working primarily in Z scale these days, my drive-in will be N scale, mostly because of the wonderful period vehicles offered by Classic Metal Works. (I'd always thought it would be fun to reproduce a scene captured by O. Winston Link.) It will also be built as a stand-alone diorama that could be incorporated into a layout, should that (slim) opportunity ever arise in the far-flung future. It will likely take some optical tinkering, such as some first-surface mirrors, to make the projection booth look convincing, but that will be the fun part of the project.