Editorial

A recent call to Garmin’s technical support center for help with my Edge cycling computer got me thinking about the overall quality of customer service in our industry, how it defines a company and what consumers should reasonably expect when buying a service or product. Here at the magazine, we define customer service on the shop level as a company doing what it said it would on the schedule it promised, meeting its price estimate and promptly returning calls and queries. That’s why it was no surprise the shops that scored we’ll in our recent paint shop survey consistently excelled at customer service. Comments like “easy to work with, regularly sent photos and reported on progress, and brought the project in on time and on budget,” define a shop that has it going on. You can read about the results of the survey and tips for selecting a paint shop starting on page 8 of this issue.

That’s precisely what I was looking for as I walked the static displays at the 2014 U.S. Sport Aviation Expo in Sebring, Florida. The January event is a growing venue that unofficially kicks off a fresh flying season. I look forward to the show because I use it to gauge the health of the LSA market and to sample the mood of buyers in the lower end of the market. The Sun ‘n Fun international fly-in, which follows in early April, is more revealing.

That’s one of the many things I learned over the 25 years working at several aircraft maintenance shops. As explained in the article on page 12, money matters can turn a healthy working relationship into a hostile separation. When this happens, the customer and the shop will lose. That’s why it’s the responsibility of the owner and the shop to keep this uncomfortable part of the work on the rails. With some rare exceptions, it’s also a reason why an owner shouldn’t take the aircraft without paying the invoice.

An acquaintance recently mentioned that she was considering going back to school for an advanced degree in business, but that she didn’t want to take a required marketing class. She said that, to her, marketing was teaching people how to lie. Her remark caused me to recall some of the less-than-scrupulous techniques used to sell aviation products and how buyers have been burned. I’ve been thinking about all of this as I consider a developing concern with the marketing of the fine Zaon portable collision system.

As pilots and aircraft owners, we always seem to be worried—justifiably, I think— about fuel. We’re concerned about price; apprehensive about a reliable supply in the future (Paul Bertorelli has an article about one potential solution on page 12), cautious to assure we have enough on board, with reserves and, should we have an accident, we know, in that primitive place deep inside us where our fears reside, that the fuel we have been relying on can kill us.

Many years ago, a wise aviator heard me comment that the airplane we were standing next to wasn’t cool. He quietly told me that any airplane that gets a person into the air and back down again safely is very cool because what’s truly matters is being able to rise off the ground and fly.

Managing editor Larry Anglisano took the accompanying photo as we were on final for runway 27 at Oshkosh. It was at 3:15 PM on Sunday, the day before the official opening of AirVenture, a time when the airport has historically been bursting at the seams with airplanes, regardless of the weather. I was astonished by the relative absence of airplanes on the right (north) side of 27.

At Aviation Consumer, our job is to sift through marketing hype and conduct impartial evaluations of products and services. Sometimes this includes products that aren’t yet to market, creating uncertainty regarding the product’s future. That was the case nearly a year ago when we covered Avidyne’s IFD540 and IFD440 GPS navigators (September 2012). We recommended the IFD series as an easy way to modernize a stack of aged Garmin GNS navigators. The major attraction is the IFDs plug-and-play design, which slides into a Garmin GNS530W and GNS430W installation.

Approaching the close of the last century, I owned a twin with a good friend. After flying it for some time, a costly AD plus the fact the engines were we’ll past TBO meant it was time to send them out for overhaul. We sent them to a shop I thought was a good one and paid in advance for a one-month turnaround. We got them back six months later. They were junk. The FAA got involved and I found out the FAA has a criminal division. The owner of the overhaul shop spent a year in the federal slam for forging logbook entries on our, and other, engines.

Even with the aviation economy only crawling along, I’m constantly amazed by the technological changes. Cessna has hung a diesel engine on a production airplane, Rotax engines are mainstream, lean of peak operations—largely forgotten since the 1940s—have been rediscovered and are saving owners thousands on fuel and maintenance costs. And those aren’t even new.

It’s always interesting talking with the creative folks who develop major aircraft modifications and conversions about going through the process of getting STC certification from the FAA. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard a new STC-holder comment that had he known of the hassles, conflicting instructions, interminable delays and costs he’d face in dealing with the FAA, he’d have never sought an STC.

Your article on pulse oximeters in the March issue correctly pointed out that they increase safety, however, there is one situation where they do not and can give a pilot a false sense that all is well. The symptoms of carbon monoxide (CO) poisoning are the same as the symptoms of low blood oxygen—hypoxia—a feeling of well-being.