Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Al Imhoff. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Al Imhoff. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Outrageous Abuse of Power




This posting is a rant against abuse of power by a federal agent with a personal religious bias and the unchecked ability to abuse his power. It is by far the longest post I’ve ever put up.

A good friend, Al Imhoff, died recently of natural causes in his motor home in Apache Junction, AZ. He was 71, bad heart, bad lungs, drank in excess, and smoked. His death wasn’t unexpected. R.I.P. Al.

My friend, Al Imhoff, had his life turned upside down by FBI agents. At the end of June 2009, he became a “person of interest” in the disappearance of ten year old Lindsey Baum of McCleary, WA.  A Goggle search will pull up many pages.

One of Al’s grandchildren was in the same school  and the same grade as the girl. McCleary is a very small town. This grandchild is known for a wild imagination (tells lies). He told Al some things about this girl, things she had said at a neighborhood gathering, that Al believed the police should know. He took his grandson to the police station and made sure the Chief and his two man force had the information.

There is much to tell and no good way to tell it; just putting it in print will have to suffice.

Al lived alone, in a motor home, at a county ORV park several miles from McCleary. He exchanged security guard service and some custodial work for a stipend and a place to live in his RV.

The time line of the girl’s disappearance is fairly well established. During this period, Al,  and other park employees, were ushering out customers and securing the premises. After the place was locked up, Al went to his parked motor home for the rest of the night.

The McCleary Police Chief asked for help. First, the Greys Harbor County Sheriff office and state agencies. The FBI came in a few days late

Al had spent time in a Catholic orphanage as a young boy. He, and others, were subjected to severe abuse. A few, as adults,  finally decided to sue. They approached Al. He wasn’t terrible interested but wanted to show solidarity with his fellow orphans.  To him it was never about the money.  He told me more than once, “I would settle for $25 and a written apology”.

A few days into the investigation, the Sheriff’s deputies came calling. No search warrant. Al cooperated; let them look around.

The next day, the FBI arrived. They took his computer, .22 rifle, several hundred DVDs, digital camera, and busted up the interior of his motor home; wanton vandalism. Instead of opening a cabinet door, they tore it open with pry bars. Still no search warrant. Two days later the county did use a search warrant (illegible judge’s signature and no typed name) to seize his car.

A few days after taking his car, he was allowed to pick it up. The interior was torn up. One bonus was all the dog hair from his Cocker Spaniel was vacuumed.

Al was subjected to several interrogations. He cooperated because a little girl was missing. Seems Al was the only one focused on the most important issue. He wanted her found.  He wanted the “authorities” to stop wasting time and resources on him and cooperated so they wouldn’t waste valuable time looking at him. Finally, he had enough, and refused to cooperate further.

A big deal was made of Al, one time, buying ice cream from the ice cream truck, driving down the street his grandson lived on,  for his grandson and some of the grandson’s friends. The girl may, or may not, have been one of the kids getting ice cream.

A law enforcement officer told Al that he, Al, was seen talking to the girl the day before at the local library.  We all know law enforcement would never tell a lie, right?  Al had been at the library that day to return some books.  He didn’t recall talking to anyone except the librarian. He was there for just a few moments; long enough to drop off some books.

The FBI took his legal papers, including the orphanage lawsuit. The lead FBI dude let Al know that he, Mr. FBI, was a practicing Roman Catholic. Further, he let Al know how he felt about anyone suing the church. Alone with Al, he flat told him he would find something to nail Al on.

We all have a few important papers. Birth Certificate, DD 214, VA papers, tax returns, etc. Imagine losing all of them.

The county supervisors panicked and fired Al. He lost his job and a place to park his home.

Other than his car, none of Al’s property has ever been returned.

Al spent a large portion of his life as a professional soldier. He was a decorated Special Forces NCO who went on to what is referred to today as “special operations.”  Among other things, he was a Selous Scout (Rhodesia).   The big bad FBI agent browbeating Al,  in Al’s own residence, didn’t  know how close he was to death. Al sat there thinking of ways to kill him. Have no doubts that Al had the skills to do it.

No question Al made a good looking suspect. The authorities needed to check him out. No question he wasn’t in McCleary from early morning to late in the evening. No question where he was during the time the girl vanished. No question he couldn’t be in two places at once.  No question there were several witnesses as to Al’s whereabouts.  These included other ORV park employees and ORV park patrons being ushered out at closing time. Al was with some of these people from mid morning until nearly 10 p.m. Could he have, days before, made arrangements to meet the little girl that night?  Unlikely. Competent police work should have answered that question.

Al took two polygraph tests. He was told he “failed” them. Again, we know the FBI never lies.

Al supposedly had access to a “backhoe”. There was a large backhoe at the ORV park. Al had a hard time starting and driving a motor home,  let alone heavy machinery.

I think something like this went down among the FBI agents. “What the hell, he looks good for it, we are catching a lot of heat so lets break him and spin it to the press.  Find the little girl? Oh, well.”

For weeks Al lived with the thought he might be killed by the FBI. Maybe driving into town, being stopped on the way, and getting killed in a staged gunfight. The press is told, “We have good evidence and tried to arrest him. Sadly, he threatened our officers. Now he can’t tell us where he put the body.”  Plausible? He lived for months in Condition Orange.

Other suspects?  Her mother isn’t a candidate for Mother of the Year. The man she lived with creeped out  the kids in the neighborhood. The little girl talked to other kids more than once about running away.  Strong indicators she was being abused. Absent biological father. The little girl was living in what is best described as a white trash life. Alcohol, drugs, filthy trash filled house, etc.

The innuendos against Al’s good name were so bad his daughter and grandchildren moved to another county. Al wasn’t comfortable going to McCleary for groceries or an occasional restaurant meal and moved to another town in the area.  It took him some time to find a place to park he could afford. The financial strain nearly overwhelmed him.

The FBI pounced. Al was accused of having “child porn” on his computer.  He had bought the computer used. He had let others use the computer. Al was a very generous person. Who knows what a previous owner, or an acquaintance using the computer, had accessed. This was the computer taken with out a search warrant but, supposedly, with his permission.

By the end of the first month, the local police and sheriff deputies weren’t talking to the FBI. The Fan Belt Inspectors heavy handed tactics turned the locals off to the point the wait staff at the local restaurants refused to accept tips from them and suggested they find somewhere else to eat. Not the FBI’s finest hour, to be sure.

What is most disturbing is there seems to be no FBI accountability.
They can behave as they please and no one calls them on their behavior.

Al never went on the offensive. He didn’t want anything to distract from the search. Imagine, if you will, a trained Special Forces Southeast Asia veteran starting an agitation/propaganda operation in a small, rural, town, with an anti government predisposition (forestry, fisheries, spotted owl, constant urban “greenies” interference, etc.) and high unemployment. Wouldn’t that have been interesting!

Now I’m not naive. Al had some sexual kinks. He had scores of sex partners in his life. He liked them young and skinny, but always of legal age. I never picked up on a S&M vibe. He enjoyed taking explicit pictures. I also know the “facts” I have are seen through filters and colored by my personal friendship.

Al received a substantial settlement from the church, along with others, and used part of the proceeds to buy a nice older Prevost Motor home. He then hit the road.

On July 25, 2012, while going in for a hernia operation at the Phoenix VA Hospital, Al was arrested. Multiple officers, proned out at gun point, and handcuffed. He was arrested by local police on the behalf of the FBI. Oh, his Jeep, dog, and Motor home? One local cop did make a call to one of Al’s friends for him. Probably violated regulations doing so. The friend managed to secure Al’s property, and find a home for “Princess”. During the time Al was in jail his Motor home was ransacked.

He didn’t see a judge until 8/31/12. He didn’t see a lawyer for four months. He was moved around from jail to  jail; Florence, AZ, Las Vegas, and finally Tacoma while not being allowed any outside contact or telephone calls.  While being held, he was treated like the Unibomber. Solitary, thin mattress, no pillow, no books, yellow jump suit, and shackled wherever he went. Finally, he was charged with child pornography and bail was set at $250,000. A friend posted his bail. Out on bail, he wore an ankle monitor and was on close supervision by the probation officers. He didn’t go to trial until the next spring.

Al’s resources were being depleted, but he was able to hire a lawyer. The lawyer found out the FBI had taken Al’s charges to four different judges until they found one who would sign for his arrest. That was the last good thing that the lawyer accomplished. All he ever brought Al was one plea bargain offer after another. Al’s friends, including me, urged him to go to trial. Finally, exhausted and wanting closure, he agreed to plead to a Misdemeanor and be on lifetime probation.

At this time, the prosecutors told Al he was no longer a person of interest in the Lindsey Baum case; he had been “cleared”.

Seems there are  levels of probation, and all kinds of ways probation officers can make you jump through hoops. Al got their full press.

Living in an RV Park in Apache Junction, AZ, Al was contacted by the Apache Junction police. Convinced they had a major predator on their hands, they told Al what their plans for him were. Al presented his case to them. They checked it out, discovered they were being bullshitted by the Feds, and put an end to the major harassments. This was just a few weeks ago.

Throughout this ordeal, what hurt Al the most was the loss of his reputation. Internet searches have sites now that posted raw, unedited internal police documents of the Lindsey Baum case. Al doesn’t look good in some of them. Fact is, he was often a damned fool. Still, that is not a crime.

The pain all this caused Al’s daughters and grandchildren must be considerable.

Consider the amount of our taxpayer money spent on this,  and for what? Guess it shows what a pissed off  FBI agent can do to a citizen.

Speaking of damned fools, how smart am I in posting this? Oh,  that’s right, I am a well seasoned fool. Damned if I will self censor.

Should any federal agent read this, consider this. You need to clean your own  house. If all of you won’t respect the rights of your fellow citizens, why should any of us citizens respect you?

Friday, February 27, 2026

Colorado Crazy, The Beat Goes On

A Hill to Die On, Peoples County of Boulder

The econazis applaud the courage of the county officials to take a case clear to the Supreme Court!

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Some county naysayer residents might think their tax dollars would be better spent on infrastructure. Silly ninnies.

Virtue Signaling, Denver Edition

Let’s look past real problems and show woke solidarity! Fuck ICE!

The Supremacy Clause has just been reaffirmed by the Supreme Court? Hold my (Senator Hickenlooper’s brewery) beer.

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Let’s ignore the nearly 40% downtown office space vacancy, the budget shortfall, the police leaving for better opportunities to do, you know, real police work and the number of companies simply moving to other states.

So happy to not live in Denver.

Colofornia

The common complaint, “Don’t Californicate Colorado”, may get eye rolls. It keeps happening.

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What about the impact on an average consumer?

Let us assume a man’s car wouldn’t pass Colorado Emissions because the catalytic converter was toast. Let us assume no Colorado muffler shop would install any replacement that wasn’t California compliant (and risk huge fines). Let us assume that a converter cost $1,200 plus installation. We might guess a EBay $150 converter was installed by a friendly Wyoming shop; that the car has passed emissions twice, and no personnel at the testing facility even looked at the converter. Cue Sgt. Shultz.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/mb8nwd2W6zA

2026 Census

The hiring process for Census workers is now open. What are the odds woke females will be the first hired?

!n 2020 I applied to be a census worker and went through the hiring process. I didn’t make the cut. I didn’t see any heterosexual Caucasian males get hired either. Care to apply? census.gov/2026jobs

The enemies of the state are always looking for ways to cheat and the Census is a fertile place to skew Congressional seats.

One hopes the Trump Administration has an eye on this.

 No Fly Zone

Colorado has a convoluted approach to wildfire fighting with a mix of state assets and private companies funded by the state. This story is a jowl shaker.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RaC75c-1ibk

Is there anything Emperor Polis’ administration can’t turn into a clusterfuck?

 Woke, Soulless Blood Suckers

I write a check to these assholes every month.

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The out of state directors have never met an econazi green dream they couldn’t love.

Wyoming No Fun Zone

Yes, Wyoming

 Car Story

Have I mentioned revenge is a dish best eaten cold? Remember Dirty Al and  the fake Powerball winning story?

 Dirty Al Imhoff was the best salesman I ever worked with. Less the accent, he was a dead ringer for Lionel Jeffries 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDPMcdd7F0A

Al  owned a 1980 Mercedes 300SD with weak compression. To compensate, he had enough batteries connected in the trunk to power a small town. The car would start if you turned it over enough.

We worked along a busy four lane street in Burien, WA. On one side of street were the Ford store and  offices. On our side were used cars and Isuzu. 

In the area behind the Ford store was covered parking with a parking spot reserved for the owner’s wife. Nearby was an electrical outlet. Al would wait until she left for the day then drive over, park in her spot, and plug in his engine heater and battery charger.

I had just returned from the Ford store and casually mention to the room, “Wow, is Ed hot (Ed being the sales manager). Somebody parked in Louise’s spot and he has called a tow truck”.

Al yells, “I was told it was OK to park there when she is gone”.

He rushed out but had to wait for the traffic light to cross the street.

I called  Ed. 

“I just told Al you are hot because someone parked in Louise’s spot and you called a tow truck”. 

  “I’ve got this”, he said with an evil tone of voice.

 By the time Al got across the street Ed was in the parking area smoking a cigarette. “Ed”, he called out as he ran up panting. 

“Not now, Al, I’m waiting for a tow truck”.

 As Always, YMMV

Friday, June 15, 2018

Name Cleared


Lindsey Baum’s remains have been located and recovered. Ten, at the time, she disappeared from McCleary, WA in 2009.

I wrote a blog post, “Outrageous Abuse of Power”, 7/30/2013 about the ordeal of my late buddy, Al Imhoff, as related to her disappearance.

Her remains were found on the other side of the Cascade Range in an extremely remote part of Kittitas County.


If the assumption is made the abductor, or abductors, immediately went from McCleary to the dump site, Al was seen by dozens, including law enforcement, in and around McCleary the same day, the next day, and several days that followed.

In the event her body was stashed, and overlooked in a massive search, then moved days later it is unlikely Al did it. One, he didn’t know the area where her remains were found. Two, his Geo Metro hooptie was in such terrible condition it wouldn’t have made it over Snoqualmie Pass. Add the through search made by the police after taking the car with a search warrant, and the return to Al, that car wasn’t used to transport a body.

Could he have stolen a car? Sure, he and I repoed many together. 

More likely, as having experience as a commercial fisherman and being next to Puget Sound, he would steal a boat and use that to dump a body in deep water.

It makes no difference to Al, he is long dead, but his daughters and grandchildren still live in the area. I’m glad the cloud has been lifted from his name.

Al was a gifted photographer and taught me much of what I know. His picture of “Beefy Boy” and a burned out Vietnam vet, "Sam the Slammer", are below. The three of us sold a shit load of cars over the years.

 


You’ve heard the expression, “Men with hard eyes?” Take a close look at these three.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Meeting Sonny Liston



In 1962 I was working in a Denver meat packing plant for a magnificent  salary of $55 per week. Part of the job was making deliveries. One day I was sent to an address just East of the Denver City Park off 17th Avenue with a large order. The boss didn’t give me a name, only the address. This is an area with older manor type houses, definitely high rent. There was a courtyard in back with a detached carriage house. Knocking at the back door, a black lady answered and requested I take the order downstairs to the basement. No problem.

After one trip, I was at the back of the truck getting the second load when I heard a voice saying, “let me give you a hand”. Two huge black hands reached past me. I about shit my pants; thought a gorilla had escaped from the zoo. It was Sonny Liston, his house, and his wife that had answered the door. The man had 15” fists.


The woman I married had a summer job at the Denver Park/Zoo concession stand. She loved Sonny Liston. He would come strolling up with two good looking women on his arms and buy a pickle for himself and whatever the ladies wanted. Paid with a $5 or $10 bill and always told her to keep the change.

My late buddy, Dirty Al Imhoff started his military career in the Air Force and was on the boxing team. Al was about 6’3” and had the chance to spar with Sonny Liston at Lowry. As Al told the story, he was doing well until Sonny Liston did an overhand smack to the top of Al’s head. Took Al down. He said Sonny Liston was very concerned, “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to”.

Whatever faults Sonny Liston may have had, he made a real effort to be a good citizen in Denver. Certain elements within the Denver Police Department were determined to run him out of Denver (Buster Snyder and Bob Wilkerson to name names). Sonny Liston moved to Las Vegas. During that time 40 out of a sworn force of 720 or so Denver cops were convicted of running a burglary ring and sent to prison. 


While this may anger readers with LEO backgrounds, I will say the Ferguson effect is an embedded part of DPD going back to the start of the city. I personally know officers in nearby jurisdiction that will not work any joint task forces with DPD, especially the Narcotics details. Corruption in all areas of Denver government may not be at Chicago levels but it isn’t a squeaky clean city many believe it to be.

Off track here, but I will always remember meeting Sonny Liston and remember him as a gentleman.


Thursday, February 18, 2021

Way Back - A Car Sales Rant


 

A younger man I mentor from time to time was talking to me about managing salespeople. A mutual friend from back in the day likes to say, “Tank was bad at walking customers”.

The rule on every lot is, nobody walks (customer) until at least two people have talked to them. If you are not getting anywhere, you “turn them through the desk (manager)”.  Was I a frequent violator of this rule? Yes I was!

As I explained to the young man, few people in the car business know who the customer is. Very few sales are cash deals. The customer is the lender and the lender will only “buy” the deal if the structure of the deal meets their requirements.

I was fairly good at qualifying and wouldn’t waste my time, or anyone else’s, on someone who couldn’t finance steam off a hot dog. Was I always right? Of course not, but had a high batting average.

A professional will track their performance as follows.

How many “ups”? How many “ups” went on a test drive? How many test drives resulted in a write up? How many write ups resulted in a sale? You should frequently be looking at these numbers and percentages to see where you may be weak and need to improve.

Historically, I made one sale per 4.2 “ups”. I’ve read the nation average is around one in eight.

The best salesman I ever knew was Dirty Al Imhoff who averaged one sale per three “ups”. He would spend hours with a customer. If the female was attractive…………..  At the end of any given month I would sell more cars than Al, and my “wash out” check would be bigger. So who was the better salesman?

As a manager I encouraged the “pro’s” not to waste time on losers. Of course, if you were on my crew you were a pro.

The lesson I offer to the young man? Work smarter and know where the money comes from.

As always, some who read this will be, “Yeah, but” brothers and sisters. That is ok, just keep doing what you are doing. Or, pull your head out of………… and start making money.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Handsome Man

Been fighting a bug now for three days. Fainted this morning, and face planted into a burlap upholstered rolled up futon. Loosened two teeth. Think it may curtail my social life for awhile.
 Always look at the bright side. My friend, Dirty Al Imhoff, fainted and hit his temple on a sharp corner, killing him.

If anyone is interested, you now know what I look like close up.

No, I haven't sought medical treatment. I'm a man.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Bitching



While making no claims for great intellect, I am irritated by laziness and stupidity. Previous posts have detailed problems with my camping trailer.

For curiosity sake, I put an ad on Craigslist. Included were several pictures and a YouTube link showing a similar trailer being unfolded and set up.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzjW9ZnxsXw

 Pictures included were of  my trailer erected and pictures of the broken attachment.

A price was included along with a, “Will trade for IIA items”. Craigslist frowns on firearm sales.

Responses? Questions as to what IIA means. I answer, “2  Amendment”. Then a follow up question as to what 2 Amendment means. WTF????

Latest response.

“Hi, I’m interested in your trailer. Can you give me more information?”

 I haven’t responded. Gad, reminds me of stupid people at the car lot.

My youngest son made a snarky remark on my Facebook page about JB Weld, floor jacks, and redneck repairs. Can’t bitch slap him 1200 miles away but he started me thinking about epoxy and a metal bar. Take the bracket off the frame, epoxy it on top of a metal strip, then epoxy the metal strip to the frame. 


You can take the boy off the ranch but ……………

I want to keep the trailer. The problem is the design is not stout enough for the places I like to go. Maybe I’ll go back to the air mattress in the back of the pickup.

My luck with RVs isn’t the best. Bought this gem, perfect for my needs, but couldn’t keep it running.

My late buddy, Dirty Al Imhoff, gave me a 32’ Southwind after he bought a Prevost. That threw a rod in the Columbia Gorge. 

Around 1999, bought  a 26’ bumper pull.  My youngest son lived in it for two years. That got sold after he moved out because, used car whore I am, a large gross profit turns me to jelly.

Oh well, all the turmoil is keeping me out of the bars.

Saturday, November 16, 2019

Specific Need verses Utility


Shot shell handguns? A recent article started a memory thought process.


My late great friend, Dirty Al Imhoff, was not stranger to firearms, or using them. After leaving Army Special Forces, he worked for awhile in Africa for a unit who sported an Osprey symbol.

His health and eyesight failing, we discussed self defense options. He still had hand and arm strength. The critical need was defense inside his 40’ Prevost motor home parked in the Arizona desert. The secondary need was in his car. After some talk, he settled on two handguns. First, a Taurus Judge. He was sure he could score hits from his bedroom in the rear to the entrance in the front.

 The car handgun was a Bond Arms derringer in .45 Long Colt. Top barrel loaded with a .45 Long Colt and the bottom with a shot shell. He decided any action in and around his car would be at bad breath range.

Given his background, I wasn’t surprised he practiced with both on a regular basis and had acquired some interesting .410 loads.

He never had to put them to their intended use. Per the coroner, he died from a blow to his temple area caused by fainting and striking a countertop corner.

To the point of all this. Most of us look for versatility in our firearms. There are times when getting something to fill a specific and defined task is more appropriate. Only you can decide which way to go.

ADDENDUM:

What has ridden in the passenger footwell of every vehicle I've owned since  around 1973.

And what rides in the center console of Sisty's F-150.



Tuesday, December 10, 2024

F**K Interesting Times

 

Syria

I listen to this guy. I think he knows what he is talking about. 

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We need to get our people out now, stay out of it, and let Israel sort out the mess.

$40,000,000 for one pissant Congressional Seat

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I live in this district and my mailbox was stuffed nearly every day with mail pieces. Very few had the candidate’s, “I approve of this message”. Since I don’t have a TV, I was spared that onslaught.

Where do these Super PACs get the money? Taxpayer money laundered through Ukraine? Wealthy people making “charitable donations” that somehow end up in political PACs? Foreign governments? Hedge fund managers?  Without violating the 1st Amendment, is there a way these Super PACs can be investigated?

 Sneering at Nannies – Tobacco

The unrelenting lawfare and public denouncing of tobacco has the usual result; bootlegging in its many forms. In the case of Wyoming add freedom fireworks. Want to be a damned fool and seriously injury yourself? Wyoming has your ticket to ride.

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The Rats are Scurrying for Cover

Liz Cheney?

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And the beat goes on.

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Take that, Delaware

Easier, and cheaper, to incorporate in Wyoming. Same with an LLC.

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Bounty Hunters

Recent discussions of having bounty hunter go after illegal immigrants prompted a memory.

 My late friend, Dirty Al Imhoff, was a part time bounty hunter when not selling cars. One night he wanted to have a few adult beverages and invited me to go along. We visited three different drinking establishments. At each place, after he surveyed the patrons, he insisted on leaving. Seems each place had patrons he had hauled in as a bounty hunter. Finally I suggested, sarcastically, we buy a six pack and sit in the parking lot.

Bounty hunting never had a personal appeal. Repossessing cars was sporting enough for me.

DrJim’s Man Cave (in progress)

 EV Financial Madness

This, from one of my favorite conservatives.

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Nothing Serious, Made me Laugh

 Serious

 Aspen Princess sees the light

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 As always, YMMV

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

It Is Like Deja Vu All Over Again, Yogi


Yesterday sold my 1987 Bronco II. Bought it as a backup vehicle but we need to replace another vehicle and cash from the Bronco sale will help.

The buyer came from a Craigslist advertisement.  Within two minutes of shaking hands, reverted to my car salesman persona – kind of like riding a bicycle, you ever forget. In fact, it wasn’t until later I realized what happened.

Immediately became the friendly face, sympathetic listener, eager to help, and kind of dumb. Established some common ground, both of us ranch raised. 

In my many years of selling cars I never had the need to lie to make a sale. The prospects want to buy or they wouldn’t be here. Let them buy, don’t make it hard! Ask the right questions the right way and they will talk themselves into buying. It was their idea with no pressure from the salesman. Any car mutts out there that think I'm wrong? Somewhere I have a plaque from Suzuki proclaiming me the number one salesman of Suzuki Samurais in the United States.

And then the story began. It is for his girlfriend. Seems he left her on the East Coast seven months ago to return to Colorado and find employment. Okay? About 30 years old, 5’6”, 140 lbs he told me he had been a cop and corrections officer but had to give it up because he was in twenty six fights and had two excessive force charges. Learned about his brothers and sisters and which ones had been in jail. Learned about goat dairy farming. We went on the test drive. He then consulted with family members who were waiting in one of two vehicles the crew arrived in. Made the deal and the bat shit crazy drove away with a winning grin on his face. I returned to my apartment with a wad of Benjis in my pocket.

The very best car salesman I ever knew was my old buddy, the late Dirty Al Imhoff.  He would have said, about the transaction, “You are a baad man, Tankie”.

In case there is any question, I do not, repeat do not, want to start selling cars again.

But WSF, did you make money on the deal? Hell ya, about $500 on a $1,500 sale.


Thursday, July 16, 2020

The Retail Car Biz - A Rant


A long, rambling rant written for my pleasure. You are free to skip it.

Every Blade of Grass has a post up about their car shopping experience.


The retired car sales manager/salesman in me became irate. Not about the blogger; about the dealerships they visited. What a pathetic pair of losers!

During a severe downturn in construction circa 1986 I started selling Suzuki Samurais while waiting for the construction industry to recover. Ended up spending 30 years, with occasional gaps, in the retail car biz.  Why? Money! I started mid March and made just short of $50,000 that year. Plus, I was home every night.

Getting hired in the biz is easy. One cynic said, “It is a job that hires people no one else will hire, to do a job no one wants to do”.   A lot of truth there.

My good fortune was starting out working for a hardcore son of a bitch. You performed, or you were out. He taught me the ways of the “deal” and to park my ego and personal problems in the employee lot before walking in the door.

People come to a car lot to buy a car/truck. Let them! Spare me your, “Yah, buts”. Your job is to find a way to make that happen! Store is closing in ten minutes? Bullshit, the store closes when the last customer leaves.

Indulge me in a personal story. I worked for Steve Lance, aka Little Hitler, in a used pickup and stock or utility trailer lot. A repeat customer of mine was a young professional bullrider from Wyoming. He traveled with his wife and children (damn, they seemed set on repopulating the earth) in an extra cab pickup (I had sold him) with a large slide in truck camper. They pulled in one night around 7:30 pm and left just short of midnight in a crew cab dually. We opened the shop, used a hoist to transfer the camper to the new purchase, and they went down the road to some rodeo in Texas.

This type of a sale wasn’t uncommon. We did, in the words of the immortal late Jackie B. Cooper (see him on YouTube), “Winners do what losers won’t”.

Over the years I made it a point to attend at least two or more sales seminars put on by Jackie Cooper, Grant Cardone (again, on YouTube) or others, shelling out greenbacks from my own pocket. Shocking, to those who know how tight (or cheap, your choice) I am with my money. Why? To get, “A checkup from the neck up”.

From where I sit, there are few professional salespeople in new car dealerships. The hardcore mutts are at independent used lots. Why? Money, of course. I blame the “bean counters”. When you examined a 1990’s era balance sheet, a number that jumped out was 25%-35% sales commission payout. Oh boy, we can do some trimming here! What escaped, and continues to escape, these narrow minded accountants is the word, “commission”. Commission, as in if you don’t sell anything, you don’t get anything.

Perhaps the worst example of this thinking was Robert Strange McNamara, Ford Motor Company and LBJ’s Secretary of Defense.

At Ford, the number crunchers determined it was cheaper to pay out the occasional successful law suit than fix the problem with the Pinto gas tanks. At the Defense Department, they decided to go with a different grade of ammo for the M-16 than what it was designed to use (powder formulation, I believe) to save money. We can only speculate how many soldiers/marines/sailors died because of that decision.

So, Frank the Tank, in your infinite wisdom, how do you sell a car?

First contact, meet and greet. “Hello, welcome to DowntheRoad Motors. Thank you for coming in. I’m the Tank, and you are?”

Now, shut the fuck up and let them talk. They want to say, “We’re just looking”. Don’t make it easy – puts you way behind the power curve.

Next up, don’t start asking questions. You haven’t earned that position, yet. No, don’t let them walk the lot on their own. Have practiced verbiage. “Folks, we have $6,000,000 in unlocked inventory and the owner doesn’t want people just wandering around. I will follow along, not bothering you, but available to answer any of YOUR questions”.

(Yeah mutt, are you here to buy a truck, or to snag a control knob missing from your ride?)

Find, land them on a vehicle. Get them to drive the vehicle (on your preselected route – not theirs.)  During the drive, keep your fucking mouth shut! That vehicle is a far better salesperson than you. On the way back ask them if they like the vehicle. With an affirmative response, ask them this. “If we can make you a great deal on this car, will you drive it home today?’  “Well, we are still shopping”. “I understand, but you haven’t finished shopping until you see the price, have you?” You may need to ask this three times a little different each time. Practice!

Get them inside and get it on paper. From that point your “desk” (sales manager) will work the deal.

Here comes the Yah, but  choir. “But, I don’t want to waste my time. What if they can’t buy?” At this point, and only at this point, do you have a customer who has decided to buy and doesn’t want to start the process over at some other lot. Now, you take control and find them a car, with the advice of the “desk”, that they can buy.

The average sales person will sell one out of six to eight people they talk to. The best I ever knew was Dirty Al Imhoff, who did one in three. My records (you do keep records, don’t you?) show I averaged one in 4.2.

I’m glad to be out of the biz, and I’ve enjoyed the other stuff I’ve done since “retiring”. 

In appreciation of those who bothered to read this far, here are a few tips. The best time to buy a car is the first three business day of the month (some weekends overlap into the next month). The best time is right after opening hours. Try to find out who their top salesperson is, and make an appointment.

OK, why? In the biz, if you are going to have a great month, you need to jump start it. Most car sales are made in the last week of the month. The top salespeople know this, and will bust their butts to get their month started (as in, working the “desk). The sales manager (“desk”) wants to, “get the store open”. The desk will take any damn deal that isn’t a loser to, “get one on the board”.

Now, consumer, it won’t be a cakewalk. One hard case manager put it this way, “I will take any deal that makes us $300, but before I take it, I will grind the tits off the customer. It is all iron; I can get more iron. I can’t always get another customer”.

Yes, I know, consumer, YOU DON”T LIKE IT. Tough shit. If you fight the fight for three hours, and save $800, what does that come out as an hourly wage?

So, back to unicorns and butterflies. Have a wonderful day!