Bob Wertz

Electric truck and SUV manufacturer Rivian announced their new R2 SUV today, but surprised everyone with a smaller R3 version as well. I love smaller cars and I’ve been waiting for new smaller EVs to hit the market, hopefully at a lower price point. The R3 looks adorable and it reminds me of a VW Rabbit, which I used to drive.¹ But Rivian didn’t publish any specs so it’s hard to gauge how big R3 is.

Thankfully, they provided high res imagery and it’s easy to see the tire details — Pirelli Scorpion MS 235/55 R20. So based on a 20-inch rim size, and with a nice profile shot,² it’s possible to estimate the size with a little bit of simple math.

These numbers are rough, obviously. But here’s what I got:

Rivian 3
Length: 149 in.
Height: 55 in.
Wheelbase: 102 in.

That length looks a little short, but as you can tell from the picture, there is very little overhang in front or behind the wheels. For a point of reference, I compared those numbers with the specs of another EV model that I like a lot:

2024 Hyundai IONIQ 5
Length: 182.5 in.
Height: 63 in.
Wheelbase: 118.1 in

The Rivian R3 looks to be a good bit smaller than the IONIQ 5 in all dimensions. In fact, the R3 looks closest to the size of a four-door gas-powered Mini Cooper:

2024 Mini Cooper Four-Door
Length: 158.5 in.
Height: 56.1 in.
Wheelbase: 101.1 in

Of course, there are lots of caveats to this comparison. My numbers are rough, the car is a prototype, and things can change as the car moves to production. Who knows when it will be available to purchase, but I’m excited about the Rivian R3. I’m not in the market right now, but my next car purchase will be an EV. That size is actually perfect for what I want – a small EV to commute back and forth to work. Now we’ll see where the price falls.³

Bob Wertz is a creative director, type designer, Ph.D. student and researcher living in Columbia, South Carolina. And Bob likes small cars.

I used to dread calling my grandmother on her birthday. My mom died on that day and so every time I’d call, she’d start with “Well, you know, I wish Nancy was still here.” And that always bothered me and usually made me tear up, so I would wait as long as I could to call. I was pretty sure that I was the last grandkid to call each year.

Twelve years ago today, I called GiGi¹ to wish her happy 89th birthday. She answered the phone upbeat and excited, telling me about all the people who had called her earlier in the day (including my siblings and all of my cousins, letting me know that I was, in fact, the last grandchild to call.) But she closed with a surprising statement, subtly mentioning that she “helped someone old today.” I was intrigued and asked for details.

GiGi was at the gas station filling up when she noticed an “old” man struggling to take the money up to the cashier. She took the money up for him and they struck up a conversation. The man was recovering from a double knee replacement. He was upset with his doctor that they’d done both knees at the same time, and told him that “next time, we’re doing them one at a time.” The doctor told him “Mr. Jones. You are 99 years old. We aren’t doing another knee replacement.”

I tell that story often, but realized I’ve never written it down. I love how many lessons about attitudes, expectations and perspective are packed into one story. GiGi passed away a few years ago, living to the age of 98. Today would have been her 101st birthday. There are many stories to tell, but this is the story I tell about her most often and wanted to share it on her birthday.

Bob Wertz is a creative director, type designer, Ph.D. student and researcher living in Columbia, South Carolina.

March 3, many years ago, my mom died unexpectedly. In perhaps one of the greatest understatements ever, I struggled with her loss. Some days, I still struggle with her loss.

I discovered that on March 3, every year, I was grumpy. Kinda pissed off. And in general, not a fun person to be around. So I declared the day “International Bob is Grumpy Day.” Gave it a silly name. Explain to people how I’m feeling. I told coworkers that it probably wasn’t the best day to ask me challenging questions. Or rely on me to be particularly tactful. In short, March 3 was the one day a year that it’s best to leave me alone. It worked. People left me alone, and I, predictably, was grumpy.

March 3 was also my grandmother’s birthday. I’d call her and she’d mention how much she missed mom. And usually, I’d tear up. Maybe the anticipation of the call was what made me grumpy. I don’t know. Over time, I became less grumpy on March 3. Still sad, but I was able to understand the grief a little better. Decades heal. In my most recent job, my coworkers understood, but also didn’t let me sit in my office alone.¹ They worked hard to keep my spirits up.

This year, I’ve decided that it’s time to retire International Bob is Grumpy Day. Instead of sulking, we are taking a day trip with the whole family — my oldest is home from college on Spring Break — and I’m going to enjoy the company of the people that I love. And take pictures. Because honestly, that’s the way mom would have wanted it.

Bob Wertz is a creative director, type designer, Ph.D. student and researcher living in Columbia, South Carolina.

Apple has canceled its decade-long program to build an electric car. And while I think it’s probably the right call to end the program, I do understand why Apple tried.

Ten years ago when Apple started the project, it was the perfect moment to rethink the automobile. With the change to battery powered electric powertrains, many of the traditional constraints of car design were no longer relevant. You no longer need a motor, or a gas tank. Cars are more reliant on their technology stack. There were very few competitors and they were almost all selling cars at the high end of the market. It seemed like a perfect time for Apple to step into revolutionizing the design of cars, questioning the established conventions of the past. Changing how cars were designed, manufactured and sold.

And yet, today, that’s not what happened. In general, electric cars today look like gas-powered cars, but without the tailpipes. There are reasons for this, I think — consumer buying habits, aerodynamics and federal safety laws — but the result is that this isn’t the revolution that it looked like it might be. Couple that with the fact that the no-steering-wheel, self-driving tech that Apple was rumored to be pursuing is decades away from being truly reliable.¹ Battery advances are slow. When they started, there were few competitors, but that’s changed and lots of established car makers are committing to electric cars, with the addition of new upstarts like China’s BYD.

I understand why Apple started their car program. But after a decade of being stuck in neutral, I also understand why they finally ended it.

Bob Wertz is a creative director, type designer, Ph.D. student and researcher living in Columbia, South Carolina.

An established church in a small town has a simple sign by the side of the road. The town is growing and the road in front of the church is getting much busier. A new church down the road installs a large sign. Not wanting to fall behind the times, the established church installs a new sign, too. This sign allows the church to add custom messages to the sign by manually arranging letters.

At first, the church simply puts up their service times, but some people think that’s boring. The church needs more catchy information on their sign. Something that people driving by will engage with. The pastor recommends putting the sermon title on the sign, but after a few weeks, realizes that she’s got to come up with a catchy sermon title every single week. Someone volunteers to update it with a new bible verse each week, but they get tired of updating it and eventually stop. Another person finds a list of attention-grabbing church sign messages on the internet and volunteers to put those on the sign. But theologically, some of the quotes don’t align with the church’s teachings and others of them aren’t exactly welcoming. Some people driving by are offended by some of the messages. After a couple of years, everyone is sick of dealing with the sign, but the sign is very visible on the main road into town. The sign must be updated.

A handful of members decide to get together. They don’t exactly call themselves the “sign committee,” but they meet every so often to talk about the sign and what to put on it. After months of discussing the sign, they realize that the real problem is that they have to manually update the sign each week. Going out to the sign with those letters on cards takes time and a better solution would be to have a digital sign that could be updated remotely through the internet. As a bonus, one of these signs can cycle through multiple messages.

They raise the money and update their sign to have a beautiful glowing digital display. The sign is bright, but some people think it’s too bright. They start by including the service times each week. And bible verses. And sermon titles. And upcoming events. At first, lots of people are excited about the new sign and have lots of ideas, but over time, that excitement fades. Some people think the sign changes messages too quickly. While the sign is easier to update, keeping track of multiple messages, chasing down information, and updating the graphics takes more time than the old sign did. The sign becomes more than a weekly task. It’s a job. Sometimes, the sign glitches and a technician has to come fix it. Everyone is frustrated with the sign, but the money was spent and the sign is there. It needs to be updated.

Finally, the pastor decides that they are spending too much time dealing with the sign. She switches the sign to share a single message: “All are welcome.” Some people complain that the church isn’t using the sign to its fullest potential. But secretly, everyone is glad they don’t have to deal with it anymore.

I’ve used a shorter version of this metaphor to talk about social media feeds that suck time and energy from an organization that doesn’t really need one (and usually doesn’t have the resources to support one). But I’ve been thinking that this parable/extended metaphor actually has a broader application. A couple of reflection questions:

• How many times do we take something on because we want what someone else has?
• How often do we chase a new solution because it’s shiny and bright?
• How often do you let the opinions of “some people” change how you feel about decisions?
• What decision could you make that would simplify your life?
• What have you built that you no longer need, but that you continue to spend significant time on?
• When have you made a decision that turned out to be much more work than you planned? How did you handle it?
• Has someone made a decision your secretly agree with? Why haven’t you told them?

Bob Wertz is a creative director, type designer, Ph.D. student and researcher living in Columbia, South Carolina.