Nissan has done such a good job with the interior of the Juke, they've managed to make the climate controls sexy. Called I-CON (for Integrated Control) by the marketers, the center stack's lower knobs and buttons serve double duty, controlling the climate system and the driving mode. Tapping the "Climate" or "D-Mode" button alters the illumination and function of the controls while the LCD flips between climate information, an eco rating, torque, or boost. We just wish the audio and navigation controls--tiny buttons and knobs in a bland brick-like head unit -- were given as much thought and real estate.
Something to look at
To the uninitiated, Michigan Tech's Winter Carnival appears to be a collection of WTF. The schedule lists events like ice bowling, a human dogsled race (won by a team using two car hoods as a sled), the yooper sprint (participants wear one snow shoe and one cross-country ski), and a beard competition, but the signature snow statues are so large and intricate that they alone are worth the nine-hour drive from Detroit.
More than fifty fraternities, sororities, dorms, and clubs compete in either a month-long manufacture or a one-night snow-packing spree, but everyone on campus knows the title belongs to one of the three frats that perennially produce the best statues. The boys of Phi Kappa Tau are looking for their fourth consecutive snow statue win and estimate they've put more than 2800 man-hours into setting their scene from "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." Based on the scale and the detail, we have no reason to doubt that. A centaur, a minotaur, and a lion, all rendered in frozen water, are larger than life and set in front of a 28-foot-tall castle wall.
The quality in the design and construction of these statues is telling of the engineering degrees that so many Tech students are pursuing. Snow, delivered one pickup load at a time, is mixed with water and pressed into large plywood forms. Machetes butcher the resulting ice blocks into shape while clothes irons sear texture and detail into an icy finish. In recent years, Phi Tau has set its statues apart with elaborate accessories. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, long after we've left, a couple dozen glass-like ice props appear on the snow stage. Axes, crowns, books, a delicate bow and arrow, and an impossibly intricate chain harnessing polar bears to an ornate chariot.