BILL TAYLOR FOR THE TORONTO STAR
Alon Alen shows off his radio-controlled replica of a Canadian Forces Chinook helicopter, which - he says - can carry a ful can of beer. Guys would love that. You can't see his hands on the control panel but that's how Alon is getting the toy to hover just above his head.
It's very much a guy thing, says Alon Alen.
You're in the living room and the beer's in the fridge. Your significant other is in the kitchen and happy to fish out a cold one for you but not so happy to bring it.
"This is what you need," says Alen, whizzing his radio-controlled model of a Canadian Forces Chinook helicopter in small circles down in the basement of the Convention Centre's north building. "It'll easily lift a beer. Guys love that."
When the Canadian International AutoShow used to include the Rogers Centre, the arena would be ringed with weird and wonderful stuff that didn't necessarily have much to do with cars.
That's still a part of the show – if you can find it. It's a bit tricky to navigate your way to the 100-level and there don't seem to be any signs.
It's even harder to find your way out once you're down there.
But it's worth the effort – a bazaar of the sometimes bizarre and always offbeat.
The RC Toys stand has radio-controlled cars, too, but it's the choppers that get the attention – the Chinook for $150 and a smaller one (that won't carry a brewski) for $59. Half an hour's practice, says Alen, and you'll be flying like a veteran.
But what about the first 30 minutes of inevitable crashes? He deliberately flies the chopper into a wall and lets it clatter to the floor. Then he picks it up and it takes off again, none the worse.
"They're really tough," he says.
Farther along the aisle, someone is driving as hard as he possibly can. A golf ball, that is.
Callaway Golf has set up a simulator and is running a contest for who can hit a ball the farthest.
"I guess a driver's a driver, on the road or on the golf course," says marketing manager Adam Lynn. "This show is a great demographic for us."
Car buffs obviously like paintball, too, or why would Sgt. Splatter have a booth? And some must worry about hair loss. Buy pills to prevent it right here. Have a protein shake while you're about it.
A "bedding blowout": fitted sheets at a price that won't keep you awake.
A "show special romantic getaway: three full days, two unforgettable nights, from $99." Sounds good, but where? It may be Blue Mountain but that's not entirely clear.
Rosedale Wellness Centre offers a free posture check. But perhaps you're more interested in "the new generation of heating pads." Or skin conditioner "with a touch of honey."
Belts: two for $9.99. Rather more for the buckles.
"Fireworks megastore!" But no actual fireworks – probably a good thing.
How about a canoe, or kayak, "decadent" chocolate-chip cookies, workout apparatus touted under the slogan, "If you've got a door, you've got a gym."
Inevitably, there's the "world's most absorbent" chamois for washing your car and the "world's best" wax for giving it a shine.
Even the cops are here. The York Regional Police service has a recruiting booth, complete with cruiser.
More washcloths, teamed with home-gym apparatus and "Slap Chop" vegetable slicers. A sign says, "You know those Germans, they make good stuff."
T-shirts with custom designs airbrushed on them used to be a mainstay of custom-car shows. The Soulimage company thinks they fit right in with new cars, too.
Artist WonG – "Just WonG, that's what I go by" – is airbrushing with one hand and seems to be checking his cellphone with the other. But it's an advertising image of a woman getting out of a car that he's looking at. The company wants it on the shirt.
"We'll airbrush any surface but water," WongG says.
"I do cars, I do walls, I paint bikes. T-shirts are $65 for black and white, $90 for colour. But it's one of a kind, remember; you're not going to meet somebody wearing one just like it.
"They take about an hour and a half to do."
Hmm. Time for a beer, maybe, while you wait. Where's that helicopter?