Keith's Blog: A Plastic Fantastic Weekend in Effingham

16,000 Corvettes. That’s just about 128,000 cylinders – and these aren't your puny little thimble-sized European cylinders. These are the size of wine bottles.

One of the pleasures of being publisher of our sister publication, Corvette Market, is that a few times each year I get to immerse myself completely in the world of America’s sports car. At Mike Yager’s 18^th annual Funfest in Illinois, I can unabashedly wrap my ass in fiberglass for three glorious days.

Unlike some snooty events (I’m sorry, I meant exclusive), Funfest is open to all Corvettes, from pure stock to personalized to resto-mod to outrageous. What the owners have in common is their passion for their thundering beasts.

In keeping with the American ideal of instant gratification, there is a muffler installation facility on site, and hundreds Corvettes end up leaving Effingham with a much more authoritative sound than when they arrived.

Further, Mike, his wife Lori and her sons Michael and Blake really know how to throw a party. Saturday night they presented Don Felder, former lead guitar for the Eagles to a crowd of over 20,000 – admission included in a modestly-priced Funfest ticket.

My only moment of sheer terror came when Mike brought me backstage before the concert, and said, “Keith, you’re a professional, just go out and warm up the crowd.”

I didn’t think telling stories about driving three MGBs to Reno would exactly get the job done.

After my “deer-in-the-headlights” moment, I realized that my job was simple. All I had to ask was “Are you having a good time,” “Do you love your Corvette,” and “Let’s hear it for Mike, Lori, Michael and Blake!”

The concert was a huge success, as was the entire weekend. The SCM / CM garage is strangely lacking in Corvettes right now, but I didn’t find what I was looking for in Effingham. Alex wants a chrome-bumper C3, Wendie would prefer a 1958 like the one her dad drag races, and Bradley just wants a pre-airbag model so he can ride in the front seat.

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