State Level Constitutional Republic? Maybe Not So Much

 Tough Shit, Rural Areas

The elitist environazi mindset  in on full display in this article.

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The paternalistic language and attitude permeating the article hides the real message; we are going to do it and you need to get over it. It doesn’t matter if rural areas want to control their environment; just shut up, peasants.

Colofornia

Living in Colorado is expensive and becoming even more expensive. The  (P)regressives have bypassed the TABOR act with “fees” since the state Constitution requires voter approval. The courts offer no recourse as the three Supreme Court Justices are hard core leftists.

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The fees are nickel and dime but add up fast. There are nearly twenty fees collected when I register my car.

The (P)regressives are far from done. They are working on a ballot imitative to move to a progressive income tax and circumvent TABOR, a long standing (P)regressive wet dream.

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 Welcome to the UniParty.

 Well Shucky Darn

The mechanic who has taken care of my vehicles has died. He was also a friend. He was bothered by severe headaches in recent years.

 Why in the world, WSF, did you pay $80-90 for an oil change?

 My Dad drummed into all our heads, “Grease is cheaper than machinery”. I’m a believer in the best lubricants and filters. John was far more than a “technician”, he was a mechanic. He went over my car from bumper to bumper looking for problems every time it was in his shop.

 Not being able to do my own maintenance and repairs on my car is an aggravations; part of aging.  Knowing bullshit when you hear it is one of the benefits of knowing how to maintain and repair a vehicle, old age be damned.

 I will switch over to Sisty’s proven shop but, I will miss John.

Saving Heritage

Good friends own a ranch twenty minutes from downtown Steamboat Springs. It has been in the same family for 112 years. Rather than sell out for big money, they found a way to protect their heritage. Recently, they posted the methods they used.

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 My friend’s son and daughter-in-law have taken over the day to day running of the ranch. My friends are my age. The husband was a year behind me in high school.

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The Fling before the Ring

A topic on LL’s Virtual Mirage brought back a fond memory. A family owned used car operation had several members employed by a son who owned the business. The patriarch had twelve children. All the men were handsome and the ugliest daughter was drop dead gorgeous. They were smart, productive, and beautiful. All business on the job; their personal lives were kept separate. No flirting. 

One daughter was getting married and a bachelorette pub crawl was in full speed. They were being transported around in a large limo.

 Three of us were working that evening and the limo pulled up. Several intoxicated voices called out,

 “Show us your cocks, show us your cocks!”

 One salesman looked at the limo and said,

 “Hey, my wife is in that car”.

 He then looked at the other salesman and me in further shock. We had dropped our pants and were cheered by the limo occupants. He was not amused.

 If You Are Going to Fuck Up, Go Large

Another bad trucker post.

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Somewhat related is Aurora, CO making roads safer by simply enforcing existing laws.

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Some estimates are 1/3 of cars on the road in Colorado are uninsured. OK, WSF, go racist and suggested a study of the citizen status and ethnicity of the drivers might be illuminating.

Stupid knows no limit.

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Lust

An airplane I’ve always liked. Circa 1968 got a two hour ride in one with a Jacobs engine.

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Deleted Comments

I’m now deleted off topic, way off topic, comments. Many times I will see the same comments on other blogs.

Car Sales Story (Repeat)

Being weird enough to stand out in a bunch of car salespeople, means being beyond weird. Mel met that standard. Always wearing a porky pie hat, his home was in the hills above Fall City, WA. He bragged that he never washed his vehicle from the day he acquired it until the day he sold it.

 We were working an offsite sale. Mel had parked his Diesel 4x4 VW Rabbit Pickup near the car prep area. Few groups are more capable of mischief than bored car salesmen.

 A collection was taken up and the, at the time idle, wash crew/detailers with cash in hand went to work on Mel’s VW. They slim jimed the lock and went to work on the inside, cleaning windows, the dash, bagging trash and giving the interior a complete vacuuming. Outside, a wash and dry was followed up with tire shine. The VW was ‘front line ready”.

 When Mel returned it took him several minutes to recognize his VW.

“Where is my truck”, an irritated Mel asked? He was standing beside it at the moment.

A clue was salesmen laughing. Mel was not amused.

 As always, YMMV

The No Brainer Masterpiece

For ten years Ford produced and sold the best no brainer car on the market, the Tempo.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ford_Tempo

There are many people who don’t like cars but need one. They want ease of use, cheap to buy, cheap to operate, and stove bolt reliability. That was the Tempo! Turn the key, put it in gear, and drive away. 

I sold scores of Tempos. Not a high profit item, they padded my monthly numbers to push into bonus country. Three or so Escorts, four Tempos, a couple of Taurus and several F-150/F2-50s would push a months earnings into the $7,500-$10,000 range. Loved that car!

What prompted this post was the following:

https://jalopnik.com/could-6-999-for-this-amazingly-clean-1988-ford-tempo-a-1840457266

Which brings me to my favorite Tempo memory. A customer walked in one day. A 4’6” totally androgynous human, she identified herself as “Angel”, a resident of Unalaska (Dutch Harbor) Alaska. She had exactly $10,000 to spend and her other, inflexible requirements, was 4wd and new, no used. She had been shopping for two days all along the Seattle corridor.

In a few hours she was the owner of a blue AWD Tempo. We were able to fit in Ziebart  rust protection and a decent undercoating while staying in her price envelope. Off it went to a barge destined for Dutch Harbor.

We never heard back from her but I’ve often wondered how the Tempo fared in Dutch Harbor.

The European Modendo, sold here as the Contour, replaced the Tempo. Whatever the qualities of the Contour, it was not a no brainer and was far more money. The Tempo buyer types soon looked elsewhere.

About that time the FCC started requiring dealers to disclose the capitalization costs of leases. My store, about 14-20 in nationwide volume, was the #1 Ford Red Carpet Lease store in the country for 14 straight years. Seeing the handwriting writ large, I took my happy ass off to the best used car operation in the area.

Many readers of this blog are smart, or think they are. Whatever, the one truism of the car biz that never changes is, “Bore and Stroke”.

Down payment and monthly payment.

The true cash buyer is extremely rare. The smarter ones have shopped for financing, bank or credit union, and have a loan commitment in their pocket. They call themselves, “cash buyers”. No Bubba, you are not but I can probably get you in and out in a couple of hours. That works for me so I will play your game, almost to the end.

Car War Stories

Get four car people together along with some adult beverages and the stories start. We were discussing dumb customers and I offered a story of one dumb customer.

Renton, WA around 1996, we had a red Honda Civic stuck back in the corner that was a “bad car”. The question was to send it to a salvage yard or spend money fixing it.

A couple in their thirties come onto the lot and “landed” themselves on this Honda. Figuring me to be a lying car salesman who was “saving” the car for some favored customer, they insisted on a test drive. OK, get three sets of keys and dig it out. At least the battery held enough charge to start it.

Test drive over, they want to buy it. I tried to show them other cars which only convinced them the car was a steal. So in we go and I do the paperwork and get their money.

At the dealership we used a “We Owe” form to put all promises in writing.  My manager flat told them he thought it was a “bad car”. Further, he would prefer to sell them a “good car”. They signed a We Owe with the following statement, “We have been informed by the manager of Sunset Cars he considers this a “bad car”. We choose to buy it anyway”.

Within two weeks they found out the manager didn’t lie. Somewhere between Ellensburg and Yakima the engine sized and they lost control and crashed.

They then show up at the dealership demanding their money back plus expenses related to the car failure. After being politely told to wish in one hand, shit in the other, and see which filled first, they left.

At the time, the Washington State Attorney General’s Office investigated complaints against car dealers. They were hardly neutral and would come into a business with an attitude. The customer had filed a complaint and an AG Investigator showed up. 

Our manager went to the back room, found the file, copied the We Owe, and handed the copy to the AG dudette. He then pointed to the door and went back to his desk. Later said it was a very satisfying moment.

My friends had their own stories but, on that occasion, mine was the best.

Persians

A trip down memory lane prompted by comments exchanges with Virtual Mirage (LL). http://symbolic-mirage.blogspot.com/.

The retail car sales game is chaotic for the most part but one hard and fast rule seems to be found anywhere in the country; the deal comes first! When a salesperson has a customer sitting at a desk and figures are being discussed at the “tower” with whoever is “desking” the deal (sales manager) no one interrupts.  Woe is he who violates this rule.

This incident went down in a Seattle suburb involving the sales manager, “Beefy Boy”, a wholesaler of Iranian origins, and myself, “The Tank”. 

Beefy Boy was a shot putter in college and was on the scrubbed  Moscow Olympics Team. He outweighed me by fifty pounds or so but gave me my nickname after a scuffle in 1986 when we were both mere salesmen. He ended up on his butt. When he got up, he said, “Damn you are a tank”. (Thankfully, two managers had put themselves between us).

The building we worked from was built on a slope with the rear portion some ten feet above the ground. Large windows were along one wall and left open in the summer as we didn’t have a/c.

The Iranian was an arrogant asshole and thought the rules didn’t apply to him. He and Beefy Boy did coke together, among other things, and he forgot his place in the scheme of things.

I was selling a car and Beefy Boy was desking the deal. The Iranian kept interrupting. Wanted to conclude his business and be on his way. Upon his third interruption, I threw his scrawny 200 lb ass out the window. Ten feet down he landed in blackberry bushes. Turning back to Beefy Boy, I snarled, “Now desk my damn deal”. He did.

The Iranian took it upon himself to complain to the General Manager. That got him banned from the premises for six months. I got an “attaboy” from the GM and Beefy Boy got an ass chewing he didn’t soon forget. The sale? Closed it on the third “pencil” for a nice gross and helped me be top salesman for the weekend (worth $200).

In today’s environment I probably would have ended up in jail convicted of a “hate” crime.

My “attaboy” wouldn’t have sounded like one to an outside observer. That same observer wouldn’t understand, “YOU kinky motherfucker”,  is high praise. Like most activities, the car biz is a world unto itself.

Just a bit of free advice about car dealerships. Put some work in before you go “looking”. I always appreciated an “adult” customer who came in prepared. Time is money and a quick transaction will usually result in a fair deal for the customer. If I have to be your “adult”, your “parent”, you will pay for my time and knowledge. Plus, if you are stupid about finances, I will certainly let you be stupid. Real world people, unless you can find Unicorn Motors.

   

Lockout

Lost keys are the biggest irritant in running a car dealership. Next are keys locked in vehicles. A Momma Fargo blog started this trip down memory lane.

http://mommafargo.blogspot.com/2017/06/ode-to-jeff.html

For years a “slim jim” was the tool of choice to open many cars and trucks. As years passed, locking systems became more sophisticated. With money you can buy tools that work. Knowledge to use them, not so much.

https://store.snapon.com/Lock-Picks-Lockout-Tools-Set-Lockout-Tool-Blue-Point--P744021.aspx

So here is the “Frank the Tank” surefire way to open a car. You need a 4” nylon wedge. Nylon, because it doesn’t scratch paint. Next, a Snap On inflatable bladder. Last, a stout 4’ aluminum rod made for the purpose.

Start at the top of the door at the B pillar. Use the wedge to slightly bend out the door and work the bladder between the door and the frame. Inflate the bladder. Push the wedge in as far as possible, deflate the bladder, and work it in further. 

Keep repeating these steps until you have a large enough gap to insert the rod. Use the rod to push on electric door lock buttons or work it to pull on the door latch. I’ve opened every brand of car I needed this way.

Electronics have made car security much better and, as usual, more expensive. Replacing the keys and remotes on a high end European car is an $800+ proposition and may require a trip to the dealer.

One strategy is to enter your key code on your smart phone which can speed up the process. If Murphy is your pal, it will be locked in your car with your keys.

Back in the day I violated one of my “words to live by – don’t date someone crazier than yourself” by dating a policewoman. Worse, she worked in the precinct our dealership operated. I was her go to guy when she needed something unlocked. Could have done without the Mustang with a three day old dead body inside.  Furthermore, she might have been on shift at 0300 but I was asleep. What a man will do for……………

My own vehicles? Hide A Key magnetic holder. Yah, yah, the thieves know where to look. They will find it eventually, emphasis on eventually, but few will spend that much time. I have enough brain farts in the course of a year to use up my four AAA calls.

Another handy tool for the car lot. Don’t be Eric.

https://www.amazon.com/Emperor-Gadgets-Vehicle-Inspection-Mirror/dp/B01HRI9AGC

“Look at this nice Explorer I just stole” (under allowed on the trade) bragged Eric the new car desk man as he pulled the trade onto the used car lot from the new car store across the street.

“Hope you did”, I replied. “Not a lot of call for 2wd Explorers”.

“Nooooooo”, says Eric, famous for taking in trades with no catalytic converters.

Free tip. Always examine the underside of anything you are buying.

One last story. Once worked one day a week at a big car auction. The guy who was the top dog was an asshole’s asshole. One day he got in my face. Nothing I did wrong, the car was junk and broke down in the lane. Knowing it was my last day, put all the keys to a Mercedes down a PortaPotty on my way out. No one who knows me from the car biz will be surprised.

Thunderbird Supercoupe

Old NFO posted a story about buying a Taurus SHO.

http://oldnfo.org/2016/04/07/tbt-58/

Fantastic cars. The engines in the early ones were a collaboration with Yamaha engineering and Mercury Marine manufacturing (mainly intake manifolds). Sparked a memory of selling a 1995 40^th Anniversary Thunderbird.

I was having a weird month. Every blasted new car I sold was an “advertised” unit. We were paid $50 for selling one. One Friday morning I sold eight, six while the sales meeting was going on. As a point of pride, I always had a customer on Friday morning so I didn’t have to attend the sales meeting. If I was the only salesman present, I snagged all the early customers. (Why yes, I was a ruthless asshole, thanks for asking)

My manager’s nickname for me was “Grossy”. While I didn’t always sell the most units, ten out of twelve months I would have the highest gross profit numbers. Neither he or I could figure out why I was stuck on “ad units”. The store owner was pissed at me for selling all the units but reminded me if I didn’t produce enough gross I wouldn’t be getting performance bonuses. He made three mistakes. First, he pissed me off. Second, he had put the only 40^th Anniversary Thunderbird we were getting on ice. Stuffed it in a shed to keep for himself. Third, he went on vacation.

In walked a Norwegian fishing boat captain and his first mate/bride down from Dutch Harbor after a successful season. A few hours later he was the proud leasee of a 40^th Anniversary Thunderbird and I had $5,000 in gross profit on my book.

When the owner returned from vacation, he faced the classic Jewish dilemma, free ham! On one hand he didn’t have his collector car. On the other hand he had an enormous profit. He and I had a strained relationship. I was an asshole but as long as my productivity value exceeded my nuisance value, he put up with me.

One month there was a $500 A/R (deductible) on my wash out check.

Me, to my manager, “WTF?”

Manager, “Rich (the owner) thinks you need anger management. That is what the class costs”.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the owner encountered me on the showroom floor. “When are you going to anger management class”, he asked?

My reply, “Shit, Rich. I thought I had to pay for the class. I didn’t know I had to attend it”, wasn’t well received. And, I never did attend the class.

When my marriage broke up and I ended up as the custodial parent of two tweener boys, I left for a used car lot with a lot fewer hours. Took a big income hit but the time I got to spend with my sons was priceless.

The Thunderbird Super Coupe with the supercharged V-6 engine was a great car. The Anniversary editions were built in the Atlanta plant and had many problems. That Norwegian skipper was one of the unfortunate owners. Ford ended up buying it back under the Washington State Lemon Law. 

When I could, I would steer customers past Atlanta built cars. Same with Kansas City plant trucks. Best quality Ford vehicles came from the Twin Cities plant. Why the difference I don't know but it was real.

Bison and Cops

Working for Steve Lance's Cowboy Corral Kia has provided material for many blog postings. Working for Steve was seldom boring and often brought unique assignments.

Steve had some items at a high-end antique consignment shop including a wall mounted bison head. Seems insects were infesting the mount and the store wanted it gone, now. Steve sent me to fetch it. (yep, a good assignment for a top level senior executive) At the time,  I was using a minivan with the seats removed in lieu of a truck. The van had very dark tinted windows.

A city policeman pulled me over. He thought I was driving a wee bit over the speed limit. Coming up to the driver's window, he glanced in the back. The glass eyes of the bison head were staring back at him. He visibly recoiled.

After a fairly long question and answer session and document check, he sent me on my way with a stern warning. Still wonder how many times he told the story of that unusual traffic stop.

Canadian, Eh?

A young friend in the used car business asked for a car sales story.

At car lots in the Seattle area, salespeople scatter and run for cover when a car with British Columbia plates pulls in. The occupants are always full of questions, will happily soak up your time, and seldom will they actually BUY a vehicle.

Circa 1992, we had a Canadian buy a truck, and traded in a Skoda. Canadians were able to buy imports that were not USA compliant. My dealership put the Skoda on the books for $1, assuming we could wholesale it to a Canadian dealer, or send it to the crusher.

A few days later, a car with B.C. plates pulled in. I was half asleep, the other sales people scattered, and I was stuck with the “up”. Shit! After a few minutes chatting, I decided to see if the Northern ally was greedy, and walked him over to the Skoda. I explained we could only sell the car for export, and the buyer must take it out of the country. I would put it on a trailer and take it to the border. At that point he was on his own. This was his unique opportunity to buy a car for a fraction of the market value in B.C.

In the next four hours, he parted with $3,000 CDN, I loaded the Skoda on our dealership trailer, and we convoyed to Blaine, WA. The Skoda was unloaded, and I watched him drive to the border crossing. I was a very happy individual when I saw him cross the border. Of course, I didn’t stay around to see if he got tossed back.

The next day, the General Sales Manager called me into his office. After I explained the transaction, he gave me the ultimate car lot compliment.

   “You kinky mother fucker”!

The deal broke down as follows. $3,000 CDN at .935 $US = $2,805 less $1 acquisition cost less $250 pack (overhead charge) = $2,554 gross profit. At my commission point, 35%, my gross pay for the sale was $893.90.  I did spend $20 or so in gas expense getting to the border and back, but still a nice days work.

The happiest person in the whole deal was the Used Car Manager. The Skoda had the potential of being a huge pain in the ass for him. Can you say, “future favors”?

Car Lot Story

Another car lot story. Stephen has a post up about pennies.

http://dixiecritter.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-penny-here-penny-there.html

Stimulates the memory banks. One of the more dangerous critters is a bored car salesman, worse if there is a group.

We would toss pennies all over the lot. The idea was, “Plant pennies, harvest dollars.” Hey, we were entitled to our superstitions.  One day one of the owner’s wealthy investors was visiting. He walked around picking up the pennies. Seemed quite pleased. Maybe that was why he was wealthy. The conversation went something like this.

“Uh, sir, we scatter pennies around so the customers can find a ‘lucky penny’ to put them in a buying mood.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said. He then walked around the lot carefully placing the pennies on the pavement.

When we were really bored, we would super glue quarters to the pavement.  Fun to watch the people bending over trying to pick them up. One guy, maybe Stephen’s cousin, went to his car to retrieve a screw driver and then pried the quarter off the pavement.

Yes, I know, low life humor. What did you expect from a car salesman?

Older Than Dirt

Another car sales themed post follows. For obvious reasons, one of my all time favorite movies is “Used Cars”.

Sound Ford, Renton, WA, was my employer for several years. It was a hard nosed selling machine kind of place. Weaklings didn't last. You were only as good as your last month. 

We had sales meetings on Friday morning and Monday morning. Unless you were with a customer, attendance was mandatory. For nearly two years, I never attended a Friday meeting. Always, I would make sure I had an appointment that morning.

 Monday morning was when the week end spiff (bonuses) checks were handed out. That meeting I always attended.  The new car crew I worked on didn’t start until 1 p.m. on Monday. After cashing our checks, we would usually hit some restaurant for breakfast. We were the closing crew on Mondays nights. If any spiff money was left over, we would hit one of the local joints. Occasionally, legends would be created on those nights. Since we were off on Tuesday and Wednesday, this gave us time to recover.

About every two months I would host a steak and eggs breakfast at my house. There would be up to twenty guests; friends who worked at other stores, and a wholesaler of two. I would wheel the television out on the deck, hook up the video disc player, and insert “Used Cars”.

What is a video disc player, you ask? I’ve said I’m older than dirt. These players gave a picture quality no VHS tape could match.

If you get a chance to see the movie, you will get lots of laughs. 90% of the movie is close to real life.

 I realize most people have a low opinion of car salesmen. Here is a little secret. We don’t care. I’ve worked most of my life on commission. Even now, semi retired, my earnings are strictly performance based.

When I became a single custodial parent, I left to work at an affiliated used car lot. The money was less, but the hours were much better, and we had every other weekend off.

Sound Ford eventually went from a single owner, to a corporate owner, to out of business. Five hundred + cars per month to zero. Corporate “suits” just don’t succeed at the retail level. 

Petty Bureaucrat Tyrants

Recently, I had occasion to drive in Loveland, CO, and was once again reminded how government employees can put us under their thumb. In this case, the city “planners” deprived the property owner of the use and utility of the owner’s property with no consequence to the city drones.

At the intersection of Highway 34 (East Eisenhower Blvd) and Highway 287 (North Lincoln Ave) sits a block long vacant lot. The lot has been vacant for nearly twenty years.

This is a desirable property. The majority of visitors to Rocky Mountain Nation Park travel Highway 34. Until Interstate 25 was built, Highway 287 was the major Front Range highway North from Denver. A very high traffic count makes for a desirable commercial property.

In 2005, my employer wanted the property. The bank owner was eager to sell. The city drones said NO. To comply with all their demands, we needed to buy out two residential homes and demolish them before we could even apply for a conditional use permit. There was no certainty that we could ever get a permit.

The bank owned the property through foreclosure. Their debtor went broke trying to develop the property. Since then, the bank has been required to keep the weeds mowed, clean the sidewalks, and enforce “No Parking” stipulations.  The person I dealt with at the bank said my employer was just one in a long line of people who have tried to do something useful with the property. It should be noted the bank is not local.

How many times across this country can you find a variation of this case? I bet it is in the hundreds of thousands, if not millions. These drones, who have no skin in the game, can sit and dictate their “vision” with little or no consequences. To me, this is bigger “intolerable acts” than what the Feds do.

Now, being the asshole I am, I found a piece of property across the road that formed the South city limits and put in our tacky eyesore of a used car lot complete with advertising pendants, balloons, and large signs. In fact, we went over the top with the garish theme. Sold a bunch of cars, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjEGYa6GlgA

Anger Management

Coffeypot has a funny post on, “Reasons I Was Sent to Sensitivity Training” at

http://johnjudyc.blogspot.com/2013/11/reasons-i-was-sent-to-sensitivity.html

Brings to mind a past experience.

Going over my commission settlement statement, I found an A/R for $526.00. Went to my boss.

“Dan, how come I have this $526.00 deduct on my washout check?”

“Rich (the owner) thinks you need Anger Management classes,” Dan replied. “That is the cost of the classes.”

About three weeks later Rich comes up to me. “Tank,” says he, “When are you going to your Anger Management classes?”

“Shit, Rich,” was my reply. “I thought I had to pay for the classes. I didn’t know I had to attend them.”

His response wasn’t positive. He went storming off waving his arms and making noises.

Sometimes life just isn’t fair. Pick up one asshole and toss him in a dumpster, and suddenly people think you have an anger problem. To be fair to Rich, there may have been other incidental incidents where feathers were ruffled.

Never did go to the classes. 

The Mighty Goose Hunter

The Service Manager at the dealership I spent several years with was a fanatical bird hunter. Our dealership, while along side the Interstate, was rural with a lot of farmland to our East and lakes and rivers to our Northwest. Geese flew low over our lot on a regular basis. Their honking would drive him nuts.

“Look Doug”, we would say. “They are giving you the finger.”

One day he snapped, got his shotgun out of his truck, and dropped a goose. The goose fell on top of a 53’ long haul trailer we used for storage, and then bounced behind the trailer, out of Doug’s sight. Leaving his shotgun, Doug walked out to and around the trailer to get his goose, only to be confronted by a large hawk who got there first.  The hawk wasn’t going to give up his free meal, and Doug wasn’t going to give up his goose. He came back with the goose but wouldn’t tell us how he got the goose away from the hawk. We suspected urine was involved.

Great guy, even is he did have bad habits, like being an old Chevy fan and restorer.  Not a current events guy, he drove around for two weeks with a rainbow sticker we put on his truck’s rear bumper before someone told him the significance. 

He had a great sense of humor, and was always willing to laugh at himself. One day he and his senior mechanic were trying to solve a difficult repair. Always helpful, I suggested, “Why don’t you send it out to a real mechanic?” Yeah, that was well received!