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Welcome! |
11/24/2010
Wailin' down the freeway adjust the cruisin' power The state trooper clocked me at ninety miles an hour It wasn't me No no sheriff it wasn't me Well you must have met some other body, No, no it wasn't me
-George Thorogood
It was in August when I was on my way from Fairfax to the New Carrolton Federal Building in Maryland, that I decided to cut through DC. I pride myself on knowing how to get around this town at all hours, and knowing the Beltway can get ugly during the day, I decided the most direct route, through DC, was the best bet. My office at the time (InfoReliance just moved) was off 50, and the NCFB is off 50, so all I'd need to do was get through the city by mostly, well, Route 50. I planned ahead that day, as the work I'd need to do was sensitive, and needed a lot of prep. I was off to meet the on-the-ground business developer we have out there, and while we're now fast friends, I was "The New Guy" from headquarters that day, and I didn't think our initial meeting from the week prior was a good one. I left Fairfax, VA with over 40 minutes to spare, to leave plenty of room in the schedule.
Do I speed? Sure, of course I do. I'm pretty moderate, and stay well under the rumored 11 MPH "threshold" that I am assured the police typically live by in most of the metros I have lived in. I never do 80 in 65. I never do 52 in a 40, which is what the infraction notice from DC said, which I got in the mail shortly after the meeting in Maryland. I was incensed, as I knew I'd made the drive to the meeting at a leisurely pace. In my own heart, I was sure it wasn't me that triggered the camera.
A quick scan of the ticket, the DC website with the policy and application guide for setting the photo speed trap, and some Google fun showed me that a) the process is automated but "manned" by a police officer (who just sits there, in the trap vehicle, earning overtime apparently) and b) according to a few folks who went before me (the EXACT same trap spot, with cases dating back two years) that if another car is in the photo frame when the picture is taken, that the infraction is suspect. Another vehicle, in the same direction as the car tagged as the speeder, means that it is possible that the other car was in the K-band radar beam before, during, or at the end of the same period of time as the tagged suspect. Interesting, since in my photo, there's a silver SUV in the passing lane, ahead of me, in the frame (I was in the middle lane, the slow lane was empty). It got me thinking: was the other car speeding, and did it trip the radar, trapping me as the speeder, as I am closer (and I attest slower) to the camera lens? I thought this might be the case.
I brought the idea onto Facebook, along with two other examples I found (thanks Google!), very similar cases, at the exact same spot, and made a photo montage of the three images. I got a lot of feedback, even from attorneys, that said, "Just pay it!" I'm all for paying for my sins in traffic, and have happily sent on my check for running red light cameras (watch that Rugby Road and Fairfax County Parkway intersection, kids). When I cannot recall that I did indeed commit the crime I am accused of, or known damn well I did it, I pay up. But this case, I was sure, they got the wrong guy. It was Brian Green, engineer extraordinaire, colleague, and the-genius-I-know-who-isn't-me, who told me I had no case, heard me out, had a few beers, and came back, "Man...you just might have a case here...let me get a pencil and some paper!" Over the phone, more beers between us, we worked on the layout of how we'd attack the problem:
- Can we establish where each vehicle is, relative to each other, and the surroundings on the road?
- Can we measure these distances with any fidelity, and plot them?
- If we can plot them, and we know how fast they were going, could we track them back in time, and see where they were?
- Do we know how the radar-photo system works, how it is set up, and what it captures?
A few minutes of guess work yielded the initial hypothesis: My 2004 Mini Cooper might not have been alone in the beam.
We went after the idea that we could establish how long the marked lines are on the road (sometimes called skips) which lay out the lanes. Then we found out how far apart they are, and it got interesting. We could now say how far apart my car and the anonymous SUV were. The back of the traffic ticket showed a typical radar-photo setup: a 15 degree angle to the back edge of the K-band beam, which itself is 5 degrees wide. In this manner, the radar beam width is substantial in the slow lane, and quite large in the fast lane. The system samples radar feedback in 200ms to 300ms bursts, and a photo is snapped as one exits the path of the beam. In essence, speeder hits the beam, and one or a couple of samples hit the car (depends on how fast the car is going), the returning particles hit the receiver in the gun that the gun's computer then measures for their return speed, works against a set series of calculations that generate MPH of the source of reflection, and when a violation is calculated, well, say "cheese."
The ticket, and the DC traffic website, claim that the system rejects mistakes (like, two cars at the same time in the beam), and therefore somehow can tell if the car in the photo was the one in the path of the beam speeding. Neither spell out how this error correction technique is employed - no basis on which the system can "know" that the object in the beam isn't actually multiple objects, with different masses, moving (or accelerating) at different rates. To keep matters simple, Brian and I decided on some assumptions:
- That neither vehicle is accelerating. As this is a highway, fairly empty at that time, between exits, that we could reason both vehicles were traveling at a constant rate
- That my car was traveling at 40 MPH (the posted limit) and the SUV was traveling at 52 MPH (the speed claimed in the citation)
So, how do we know which vehicle is in the beam when? Brian came over a couple of days later, as I had decided our basic chat was enough to file with the court for a hearing. He brought a grease board, some markers, a protractor, a ruler, and I supplied the beer (I think) and a TI-81 scientific calculator, and we got to work in the kitchen. Hilarity ensued - Brian owns a protractor! Better than that, he knew the calculation for the sine from the opposite side/hypotenuse without having to spell out SOCATOA (like I do) when working the angles. We decided to use Post-It notes, cut to scale, to represent the vehicles. Once we had mocked up the highway and beam path, and had a few vehicles cut out, we calculated the vectors for the two speeds in play, and then placed the cars into their respective positions in half second increments. In short order the case started to come together, or we were too buzzed to be objective, but it doesn't matter: in increments of half seconds back from the photo evidence positions, the SUV appears to be in the beam with my car, actually entering the beam before I do in my car, but leaving me to hold the bag as the vehicle in frame when the photo is snapped (again, I am closer to the lens of the camera than the SUV). I stood over the kitchen table, no small feat on a few beers, and snagged some photos of the grease board.
I got a reply from The Man in DC - they'd hear my case on November, 23. Game on.
Well you say you saw my car parked By the drive-in one night Came over to speak to me but I was outta sight It wasn't me No no baby it wasn't me That must've been some other body, No, no child it wasn't me
-George Thorogood
I sat down the weekend before the case and broke into a fresh Microsoft Visio session. I have been using Visio for years, for everything from IDEF model flows, to designing network and server layouts, office space layout planning, and even designed my gameroom basement with it. Building a highway mock up and my case presented a few new challenges for me, but Visio has a rich interface and built-in set of objects for creating representations of angles. I set out to re-create what Brian and I had on the grease board from the summer, and then checked my work. I decided to add a section for references so I could establish what I based the math on, when I found an anomaly: the ticket claims that the officer had the beam of 5 degrees of yummy K-band radar aimed 20 degrees from the parallel path of the road. OK, so that means that the front-edge of the beam is 25 degrees up from the parallel edge of the road. However, the DC government traffic site which outlines how their systems work claims that the 5 degree K-band radar beam is 15 degrees from the parallel edge of the road, which means the front edge of the beam is 20 degrees up. So, which is it, DC?
But I'm cooking in Visio now, and have the basic objects where they need to be based on the ticket. All I need to do now is create a new angle object that shows what the website claims, and see what the result is. With known feet-per-second values for both 40 MPH and 52 MPH vectors worked out, I built the vehicles to scale (using known actual measurements of the cars, and kept them as reference, too) and then "dropped" vector representations onto the road. At this point, I could "drop" the cars onto the vectors and see where they hit the road for each time slice (.5 seconds). Interestingly enough, in both models (the ticket and the website), I am either not in the beam, or never alone in the beam, when the SUV is moving, too. Neither model makes the case that I alone was in the beam and then also in position to be photographed as the speeder. Nice.
I use some fill effects to delineate the angle objects (so they can be easily seen), some color to the cars (the wife's suggestion - makes sense) and marked up all of the notations. I also created markings that show where each vehicle is per the .5 second time slices, and numbered them so they correlate to the vehicles. This, while a little busy, helps de-conflict which representation of which vehicle is where at a given time. It turns out that four examples make the case nicely for each vehicle. I also noted with a perpendicular line, where the beam exit points are, so it would be obvious where the camera would be snapping its photo (for either beam example).
I'm ready for court on Tuesday.
I met a German girl in England Who was goin' to school in France Said we danced the Mississippi at an Alpha Cappa dance It wasn't me Woo, it wasn't me Yeah, you must've met some other body, No, no child it wasn't me
-George Thorogood
I dress for court in a jacket and tie, no suit. I find that if I overdress for traffic court, it adds to the idea that I am an ass out to make everyone around me look like more of an ass. The jacket and tie says I can dress for court nicely, but this isn't the most special occasion on my calendar. I was at work before I got here, and I'm heading back when I'm done. I'm just a busy white-collar guy who has a small case to make. I dropped in the yellow tie on the blue shirt, because it looks nice, without saying "Donald Trump."
I get to C Street a little early, so I can find a garage in walking distance, score it about three blocks away, and walk at a light pace to the 301 C Street address, have plenty of time to clear security, and get in line for processing. Processing is simply the same thing as the Virginia DMV charade - one gets a deli ticket with a letter-number combination that confounds any sense of "Am I next?" in the queue. I was E485. They're calling for B212, G350, A103, and sometimes numbers in the F range. I wait in the overheated queue, surrounded by a lot of tense people, for over an hour. I doze on and off in my chair, with the four copies of the 11"x17" chart, each with several pages of reference stapled to them. Finally, I am called to a window where I am told to report to another room, go inside, have a seat, and wait.
There are about six of us now in the hearing room, in cheap plastic chairs on either side of the small, but long space. At the opposite end of the room, there's a nice office desk, with a smaller but longer table protruding from the front of the desk. On the table there's a 15" LCD monitor, and at our end of the table is one more cheap plastic chair, we'll call "the hot seat." No one talks. We wait. A few minutes later, the door opens, and the court officer comes in. Awkwardly, a couple of us begin to rise, and then just sit back down. Is he a judge? Aren't we supposed to all-rise? Before we can resolve this slight utterance of ceremony, the officer of the court is at the desk, seated and phumpering his papers. He doesn't look up, and then he says (and I'm paraphrasing - he spoke quickly), "I'm an officer of the court, and today I will hear your cases, and make a judgment. All of you are here under the same circumstances, in that a radar-photo system captured images of your vehicle speeding at some location. As the DC government has the burden of proof, we submit these photos as evidence of your infractions. I will ask each of you, one at a time, to come to the desk, be seated, state your full name and address, and then examine the monitor on the desk. I will put both images which were captured on the screen for you to see, and then inquire as to how you plead. There are instances where if the car was stolen and you weren't driving it, the case will be immediately dismissed, of course, if you can substantiate it."
He calls this young blonde kid first. The kid states his name and Alexandria, VA address, and the officer of the court goes back to phumpering papers. The officer then says, "OK, per the images I have of the alleged infraction, the government has not met its' burden by clear and convincing evidence. Case dismissed." No images ever come on the screen. I am perplexed - can it be this easy? I hope to see another example, and maybe even some argument. No such luck - I am called up as the next defendant.
I do the honors, name, address, etc., and he's back to the phumpering of papers and clicking of keys on the keyboard at his desk. He then puts up the two images I have a copy of, and asks me if that's my car. Yes, sir, it is. He asks me how I plead, and I say, "Not guilty, sir." His brow raises up over his glasses, and he stops to survey me, eye to eye. He says, "Why do you feel as you do? How would you substantiate this claim?"
I explain that after some analysis, which I can explain, and have printed copies of, that I do not feel as though the system correctly calculated and then depicted which vehicle was speeding. I express some of the basics of the analysis, when the officer beings struggling with a clear plastic satchel. I'm distracted, as he's trying to extract some thin plastic page from inside the equally thin satchel. At first, I cannot make it out, and finally it is evident - it is a clear screen overlay that depicts black lines at angles. This is some form of a key that he can use to overlay on his screen with my photos below it, so as to see what the radar and camera saw, I surmise. I slow my dialogue considerably as he struggles to free the key, and then place it on his screen. He seems annoyed at the whole process at this point, but he sets it up, stops, and stares at his newly adorned screen.
I get back on track, and he asks me, "You have printed materials - may I see them, please?" I get up and oblige, and go back to my seat. I hold up my copy and show him around the graphic. Here's me, here's the SUV, there's the police car, here are the beams. He asks me what the beam paths denote, and I take my calculated swipe, "Sir, the ticket and the DC government website lay out two different models for the placement of the radar-photo equipment used by the city. There's a considerable difference in how they're laid out, and I don't know which one you use as a basis for formulating the accuracy of the police's claim, so I had to plot both. In both cases, I can explain what you're looking at, and what it comes to, if you like." He waives me off as he goes over the graphic, and then tabs through the reference pages. While he's reading, I add my next key point - that the size of my vehicle and the size of the SUV are quite different, in that the SUV has a much larger physical presence than my car, and that the two-dimensional graphic doesn't denote it as clearly as it could, but the dimensions are noted. This is a key factor, I think, as I believe it means there's "less" of my car in the beam than the SUV at any one time. He nods, and then he asks me, "How did you measure the positions?" and I tell him I used the federal standard for highway markings, which DC complies with, also attached, and then applied the vectors, based on what I saw in the evidence photos. He finds the attachment page for the lane markings, spends some time reading it, and then begins to fold up my presentation. He packs it into a folder, and then resets his gaze on me.
"There's a good deal of work here, that you've undertaken. I agree that it certainly calls the government's evidence into doubt. Consider this a warning: watch your speed out there. Case dismissed."
And that's how I did it. 7/21/2010
As The Onion's famed columnist Jim Anchower likes to say, it's been a long time since I rapped at ya. We last left off with me, having well sampled the local used market of private MINI Cooper sellers to travel off to the land of Car Dealerships. This land might be your land, and it might be my land, but the land of Car Dealerships is the land of the doomed. Doomed for those who go there for deals, and doomed for those who work there and have to live every minute of the human drama that is car sales and dealer service.
Let's turn back the clock, to Thursday, July 8th.
During a lunchtime scan of the Craiglist market at my desk in sunny Fairfax, VA, I come across a relatively new posting for a 2004 MINI Cooper S, at $12,788. Also, I notice that this is a dealership offering, not a private seller. This is strange, since the dealer is listing the price for all to see. In my weeks of searching, I have never seen a dealer-held MINI with an advertised price. As I mentioned in Part I, the price is a secret, set at the time of your call. I'm surprised. A line in the sand has been drawn, and as the Karrass Effective Negotiating training tells me, he who lays out a price first owns the initial disadvantage in the process.
Intrigued, I email the dealership and also let them have my cell phone number. What happens next is what I want to happen: two emails and two phone calls in rapid succession, over the span of about 30 minutes. This is what I want private sellers to do that they will not do - I want to be sold, and I want the seller's attention. With a car dealer, one gets this in spades. Really, people who want to buy a car should want this attention. It means that the negotiating can begin and the process of seeing what can or can't work will happen at the pace the buyer determines (initially).
Now I have to make a decision that I knew I'd make this way, my Blog Reading Friend. The question is, do I tell readers which dealership I worked with? As the process is now behind me with these guys, I am left with mixed bag of good and bad news, and in my estimation, all of it typical of car dealerships everywhere. Since the bad news was pretty bad, and involved both a lack of integrity and then some outright insults to my intelligence, I cannot in good faith pass on their name to you. Efforts were made to right wrongs, for certain, but the "wrongs" were manufactured by the dealer in the deal, and took my patience and point-blank conversation tone to bring about the corrections. If you must know, email me, and I will say who they are - but my bet is that most readers will simply ask me if this is the same dealer that screwed them on a past deal. Here's a hint - save your energy - they will all screw you to a wall, if you did business with them.
But back to the 9th... Chester Karrass (pictured below) teaches us that in negotiations, Americans rush in too fast, in a huge hurry to make and close a deal. I find this to be quite true. Instead, he asks his students to slow the process down first, and then apply his methods. I won't do his course justice here, but I'll stick to the highlights of what his people taught me in 2005 that made me think much differently about the art of the deal. Once one has decided to slow down, the next step is to investigate the goods and do some digging. Then as one is applying pressures and testing aspects that the seller might have, change the pace - compliment the seller and then drop in well-placed concessions. It isn't about being a hard-ass - it's about managing expectations and knowing the dynamics. I drove down to the dealer after dinner with my 4 and a half year old son, Oliver, in tow and who would serve as my foil. He's perfect for the job, too - boundless energy and a constant distraction to anyone trying to make a point to me. I also called Randy Kendall before I headed down to the dealer to work over the basic economics. Randy sold cars for some time, in this region, too. What Randy taught me was not how cars are bought and sold, but what makes dealerships tick, from new, to used, to finance, to service. Without what he taught me, I'd be lost.
I told Randy that my mission was to get the dealer to $10k. Randy expressed that based on my research, that the car was priced just above the profit mark that the dealership would need in used sales to call it a winner. In his mind, $10k was not a sensible sale. As one of Randy's Rules is "A cash deal is poison to a dealer," this is exactly what I have in mind this night. Going in, offering almost $3k below the offered price and then shunning financing - Randy smells a wasted evening ahead. As I have nothing to lose and could use some mental exercise, I go in with my plan unchanged.
For time's sake, I decided to bullet out what happened below, or I'll be writing this in grave detail until next week. Here goes:
July 8th, I discover the car on CL for $12,788:
- After getting to the dealer, I ask to test drive the car. The salesman had been waiting out front, and claimed he was waiting for me to arrive. At 7:30 PM the dealership is devoid of customers, new or used, and would stay this way until when I left at 9:45 PM
- We agree a test drive is going to go down, with my son riding in the back, as the immediate course of action
- Approaching the car, several large dings are apparent - both doors and the trunk have suffered dents that will need to be professionally removed. As they're all
on different panels, this could become a costly affair. I grouse about this loudly, but don't really care yet. I make a big deal over something I can get taken care of at any time of my choosing, because it becomes negotiating ammunition later on
- The car drives fine - no issues that I can detect. Fit and finish of the interior are clean and nice. Performance is snappy and trouble free. So far, so good
- I tell the salesman in the parking lot - there are two things: a) this will be a cash deal and b) this car will need to go to an independent shop of my choosing, or no deal. He immediately agrees - good
- The salesman and I sit down to discuss price. He asks if the asking price is suitable, as it is fair, below market, and set so that the car will move. I disagree, as I am just-not-so-sure of this. I ask why he thinks this is the case
- The salesman loads Kelly Blue Book (KBB), quickly types in some data and makes some selections, and the site comes back with a $15.5k price. "See?" asks the dealer. The car is priced WAY below market. I say I do not agree, and ask that we load up NADA and check. See the first graphic on the right for what KBB says this car is at retail, in "Excellent" condition
- The salesman asks why I want NADA, and the first real punch in the fight of this deal is thrown. Kelly Blue Book is bloated and inflates the value of used cars on the whole. Banks routinely use NADA for pricing, and for no charge, their site offers a range of prices across various used vehicle conditions. This is another Randy Rule - use NADA, not KBB
- Begrudgingly, the salesman loads NADA. With me shoulder surfing his input selections now, we get four prices on the range, with the results in the picture seen to the right - $9,700 to $14,475. Here comes the hard work
- The dealer exclaims that the car is clearly "Clean Retail" and I retort that the car is somewhere between "Rough Trade-in" and "Average Trade-in."
- I offer $10k, flat
- The salesman says he needs to find the dealership GM for such situations. My son and I wade into the used car sales bullpen, which like the showroom floor is devoid of customers. They see my son, and wave - I tell them that my son is going to pull 7 days a week, open to close, put 54 cars on the board this month at huge margins, all financed deals, and roll everyone's extras into financing as well as their upside-down debt on their trade. This elicits deep laughter and hysterics and exclamations of "Start that boy TONIGHT!" and "We're all going on VACATION!" They're all hustlers and sharks. Amongst them at the corner desk is the used car sales manager. Perfect
The salesman comes back to his desk. The GM says they can deal, but $10k is just too low. I agree that the offer is below their ask, but fair. The car has considerable door dings, and is at the high end of mileage. It also has not been to an independent shop. I say my offer is firm, and fair. The salesman leaves, and returns with the used car manager
- The used cars manager sees me, sees my son, and his expression changes as we're introduced. " You're that father from before. Where did you sell cars?" he asks me. Nowhere, I tell him. I just know a couple of things. He insists that the car is "Clean Retail, " and has been through his crack service team - the car is 100% and ready to take on the road. We get back to this later
- I'd like to do what Karrass suggests we do next - that is, to find out what the dealer needs in this deal. All too often in negotiations, we fail to see what the other party needs in their end of the deal. I plan to explore this, but not in earnest. This isn't a good faith deal. This is a car dealer. All I will hear are a pack of lies, and they flow soon enough
- "We took a beating on this trade!" the used manager tells me. So what, I reply - I tell them that they either made it up in the new car trade deal in financing, or they'll make it on the next fool who comes in upside-down on his Nissan Pathfinder by $3k and needs a minivan, has poor credit, and can only put $500 down. I remind him that he's comped on his book of business over time, not giged on individual car sales
- "We're going to lose money on this car, no matter what, at $12,788" he insists. Probably a lie - no matter - he will never disclose what they paid for the car, as it is used, and they are not forced to tell me this as they are with a new car. Even if he got it at wholesale, he paid around $9.5k. I was shown the auction prices of wholesale cars by a friend with access just before this trip, so I know what they'd pay for the car if that's how they got it. Dealerships like this buy these cars to attract people in, and then get them into something else. This MINI is an ornament for their dealership (they sell Japanese cars). They can get another one at wholesale the next day if they want to
- "The door dings are going to cost us $500 or more to remove, but are typical of a car of this age" they assure me. I tell them I won't take a car with such dings, and that it should be cheaper to have them removed (I have had quotes before for similar dings on my own cars). They reassure me it costs "a fortune" that they will have to incur to make me happy. I let them believe this
- "This car won't last here" they assure me. But they're wrong. I retort with, "Show me the customer who can secure financing for a 2004 motor vehicle with 72k miles on it. No such person exists around here. Show me that customer with $2k in their hands and down payment, and they'll be in your new car office getting a deal on a new car, not on a 2004 model that your dealership doesn't stock, can't work on, and will end up with a loan offer of 12% to 18% if they're lucky"
- They stop to consider this, I wait, and then tell them, "The person who buys this car bears a striking resemblance to me. He wants a used MINI and is on the market in this town, found yours has the options and condition he thinks is suitable, he is my age or so, and has cash. No other description applies"
"But we priced this competitively, and we used a computer system to scan the market to make sure we were the lowest!" Perhaps, but they didn't take into account private sellers. I remind them of this, and then remind them they listed this car on CL, surrounded on all sides two or three echelons deep by private sellers
- "We need $11.5k on this car" they tell me. No, I assure them, it cannot be done. I left the house with $10k and want to give it all to them. I can take my money home and go back to hunting private sellers. I am in no rush. Luckily, I do not need this car right now
- "Give us something to work with - what can you put back into this deal?" they ask and then I strike my next blow. See line 18. I have an instant change of heart and tell them I can drive a car with dings - what's a ding, anyway? They bloated it to $500 for repair, not me. I tell them, take the ding repair out of the deal, and we're now at $11k
- I tell them to take the $500 fee out, as it is utter nonsense. They disagree on taking it out, and agree it is basic profit. I promise to revisit this point
- As they try to impress $11k to me, plus tax, tags, title, and $500 fee (which is pure profit for them), I cut them off - my son needs to use the bathroom. When we come back, I open up with, "OK, are we going to do $10k here?" They hold their ground, distraction be damned. OK, I tell them, I'll call the wife, but it is a dumb plan, I say. I call Brigitta and tell her I am coming home - that $11k is their last bastion and it is now 9:45 PM. Oliver needs to get to bed, after tearing up the dealership's showroom since 7:30 PM. I tell the manager and salesman that I will ask the wife to sleep on the $11k idea. I allowed Oliver to break the dealer's pace several times, but never mine
-
We go home. No one sleeps on the $11k idea. It is not even a consideration
July 9th, mid-morning, then late afternoon:
- I call the salesman up, and he excitedly asks me if the wife went for $11k. No, I tell him. We're at $10k still
- The salesman shifts his tone to a lower register, and says, "Why don't you come get the car and take it to your shop for a look. Then we can talk, OK?" I agree
- That last afternoon, I walk into their showroom and they hand me the keys. I ask if $10k on the table. They tell me, "Just go check it out, why don't you?" Because I don't want to waste my Friday afternoon, is why. If $10k isn't on the table, then I'd just as soon leave. "OK, yeah, $10k is on the table" they agree
-
I get the car into Chandler and Sons, in the bay where Henry Dang works. Henry and I talked MINIs weeks ago, good and bad, and they knew I was coming. Once the car is on the lift after Henry drives it, Mike & Freddie Chandler and I go over what Henry found:
- Front-end bushings off the A-arms are gone. There's barely any evidence of rubber left on the arm ends. The arms clank around in their bushing sockets like Nolan Ryan's arm, devoid of cartilage. The front subframe has to be dropped to remedy this affair. It will take 3 or 4 hours easy plus parts, says Henry
- The computer won't squawk. The ECU has issues and appears to need to be reprogrammed. Without a deep diagnostic run, we cannot be sure, but we're not going to run one - we're going to note that the ECU needs to talk, and if not, be replaced and programmed
- All else looks OK - no rot, rust, damage, bends, leaks, or anything else funny that we can see. We take our time, bumper to bumper
- Chandler and Sons tells me the bill could be $2k if everything is at its worst, or around $500 to $700 at the best. No safe assumptions can be made as to what it will really take until taken apart and closely gone over. If the computer is fried, a nice chunk of that cost goes to replacing it
- Chandler and Sons notes all the information on an official summary from their shop's letterhead, and provides me the computer printout, too. I pay them for their service, which was terrific piece of mind (and my wife Brigitta's idea from the start - she trusts dealers less than I do)
- I hustle back to the dealer with the notes in my hand. On arrival, I am warmly greeted and asked how things went - great, right? I look somberly at the used sales team members, and tell them, boys, let's get out of view of the few customer you have, OK? The news is not so hot
- The manager reviews the notes, and then opens with, "Well, a shop can find anything they want..." and we're now back to the fun of the previous evening. Here comes the BS truck with a fresh delivery. I can have all I want, if I like, too
- I stop the manager - before you disparage my shop, read the notes. The bushings are missing - that's a safety issue, period. I could have lost control in a hurried stop to miss an accident and risk precious inches since the front-wheel-drive suspension load bearing linkage is metal-on-metal. Also, the computer is kaput, and we all know a) we need a computer and b) it has to work or the car can go "kablooey" and be a pricey fix before we even know what went wrong
I debated an offer of $8k to counter the possible $2k investment, and this was in my head, but I had a better idea. I offer to walk away from the whole deal. I don't want to drive any more unsafe cars, and I don't want to make an offer so low as to offend, only to have to then go and get those repairs on my own time
- The manager quickly considers this, agrees that the safety issues are serious, and then he says, "So, what if I get these issues fixed? I can see to both issues quickly. Will you buy the car then?"
- I reiterate that $10k is my offer. However, using a Karrass technique, I pull off the pressure, and switch gears to complimenting the manager on his "honesty" and strong desire to make a deal work. I tell him his own shop screwed him (face it, they never looked at this car, ever) by telling him it was perfect - how was he to know? If I were him, I say, well, I'd be hopping mad. He smiles, and says, "You're right, I am mad! How could they miss these things???" How, indeed, I solemnly agree. No matter, I take him on his "word" that this can be made to work, but the car is not "Excellent" or "Clean Retail" and that if he likes, he can replace it with another wholesale MINI when I am gone with this one. I am repelling a combined urge to laugh and vomit at the same time
- The manager admits that he just took possession of a 2007 MINI Cooper S from a wholesaler that day, and it is now on the lot. He wants the one I want gone, and he's willing to let it go to me "at a loss" since I am such a smart, straight shooter who covers every base. I tell him he can have his fee if he gets the whole deal, tax, tag, and title close to $11k. But the fee can't be part of the price of the car, figured into taxes. I need to pay tax, tag, and title anyway and had assumed budget for this on a $10k deal
- The manager says, "Fine. Deal. Sold. I am tired of this deal." and I know I have won. Randy's Rule - Use the dealer's game against them. They want to soak up all of your time and energy. Do that to them, carefully, with strategy. Keep them interested but wear them out in the process - it works both ways. When I heard the manager say he was tired of me, I knew I'd made my case
- I explain that I want these conditions in writing, and that I will then need to inspect the results myself. Since his "crack service team" missed these items (line #14, July 8th), I don't think they are up to the task to get it right. I want the car on a lift, so I can inspect the suspension myself, and I want an ECU report, with the MINI VIN number on it, that says the computer and all systems report clean. Without those two items in writing in the contract, and then produced to my satisfaction, there is no deal
- The manager agrees so firmly, one would think I had told him that people breathe air to live and I was just making sure. He needs the weekend to get the car into service and will get back to me...
July 12th, and we find out what the shop has to say:
- Monday morning, I hear from the dealer's service advisor. He asks me, "OK, why do you need the computer to read out a clean report? Who said you need this?"
- Offended, I tell him I am asking for it - that I won't buy a car with a bum or glitched computer. He asks, "Really, why not? What's wrong with the car?"
- The computer is not talking, is what's wrong, I insist. My tone is rising now. He goes lax on me, "OOOOK, I guess we can get it reprogrammed, but I can't do it here. We're not a MINI dealer and I don't have the probes to do it. What do you want me to do?"
- What I want him to do it something he can do to himself, in the comfort of his own home, and I hope be breaks his neck trying it. I tell him to have the used manager call me. When the used manager calls me, he opens with, "Good news! I spoke to the service advisor - he says the bushings are just fine they way they are? Hello? Mr. Rubin, you there?"
- I am simmering in my own juices. I saw the daylight where the bushings are supposed to be with my own eyes. I manipulated the suspension myself. I tell the used car manager that I am offended and surprised at his shop's findings, and I cannot buy the car now
- The used car manager asks me if he can get another service advisor to look it over. I agree, and tell him he's wasting his time now, not mine
- The new service advisor calls me that afternoon, and tells me that the car needs to go to MINI of Sterling. The car should not be in their own shop for this work as they are ill equipped. The used car manager calls me back and says that his office will pay to have the items worked on at his expense, and that I will get all the paperwork on findings and repairs from BMW directly
- My $500 deposit that I left on July 9th is uncashed, and I suspect it will stay that way. If BMW says it is $2k to repair this car, the dealership will say, "Forget it," wholesale it, and tell me the deal is off, I am sure. If it ends up that way, I won't be surprised
July 13th through the 16th:
- I wait for the car to end up at MINI of Sterling. The dealership who has the car I want has no insight into Sterling's workload. The car will be seen when it is seen, in due time
- The evening of the 15th, I hear from the used car manager - the MINI is done at BMW, but he's waiting for the accounting department to cut a check to BMW MINI of Sterling so they can release the car. The bill - $700 for the front end work and computer reprogramming. The labor alone was $600. All of the paperwork detailing the work is on hand, for me to keep
- July 16th, that evening, the car is back at the dealer ready for me to take possession. As I will be out of town until Sunday morning, the dealership will have to wait. They do
July 18th:
- At around 1:00 PM, I take possession of the MINI, after cutting a fresh check for the car, tax, tag, fee, and title. $11k for everything, and we're done
- Randy tells me he is impressed that I got the sales price to $10k. He didn't think I could get the dealer to do it
Epilogue:
Necessary evils surround us. In order to receive life saving medicines, we sometimes need to endure needles. Once, I remarked to my children's' pediatrician that the multiple vaccination shots they issue (sometimes three of four at one sitting) make the whole visit traumatic and create a hell of a situation to manage. Sensing I was making a rhetorical kind of complaint, she replied, "Mr. Rubin, I agree. But just think of the consequences should they catch one of the diseases we're protecting them from." The lesson is simple and of course I knew it, but the logic cuts across many similar discussions.
When one seeks to purchase a used car, one must deal with a used car salesman.
It doesn't matter if it is a dealer, or a private seller, if the process to deal with either is understood beforehand. I prefer neither case to buy a used car, but preferences are luxuries. A used car purchase comes with the needle prick, period. Selling a car for me is something else, beyond the scope of this blog entry. But buying a used car is something we should strive to do without hurry, emotions, knowledge, and some gamesmanship of our own to being to bear. I won't rush to repeat this task again anytime soon, but if I have to, thanks to Randy Kendall and a lot of lessons learned, I can pull it off to my satisfaction. I got to a deal I wanted to get to in the end. It always seems to take more than I had planned going in.
I hope any of you have better luck than I did. If your story in return to me is how you got treated like a king, had an easy deal, no hassles, no issues, and you bought a used car in these United States (or worse, financed it), I have only one question for you: How'd you like the ride? No, not the ride of the car you bought - the ride the dealer took you on - how'd that one feel? I know they loved it. 7/8/2010
I'm in the market for a small car to use for a commute to work. I won't spend a lot of time hemming and hawing on why I ended up at a MINI Cooper, but those who know me well know that a) I do a lot of research and b) I have my tastes. Oh, I know you want me to get an Honda Civic or some American-made "hybrid" or some other car that fits the criteria as you see it. I get it. But that ship has sailed. My 26 mile one-way commute will, in all likelihood, be met with me behind the wheel of a current generation Cooper. My max target price point is $10k, and if anyone wants that money for their MINI, they need to prove their case to me. I plan to spend less than that if I can, and if it makes the seller make funny faces, so it goes. Someone will want to deal, and I don't want to start a MINI owner club with a bunch of sellers. I just want my own MINI.
The market is full of these cars - all types. They hit our streets here in the US in 2000, with the 2001 model year, thanks to an infusion of capital and engineering expertise from Germany's BMW (MINI is originally a UK product). By all accounts, the 2001 and 2002 are not worth investing in, and face it, are now pretty old. Many kinks were worked out in 2003, and then each year they improved (but some issues stuck around). Body rust issues, creaks, engine stalls, gearbox failures, automatic transmission failures, supercharger failures, engine gasket and seal failures, and windshield cracks are some of the most predominant issues one will find regularly being dealt with in a user Cooper.
I set my ideal sight target picture on an 'S' model, six-speed, 2003 or newer, ideally with less than 75k miles on it. Leather interior, heated seats, double sunroof, premium audio, navigation, controls on the steering wheel, and some other trim items are nice to have. Must haves past the model specs are a non-smoker interior, clean and sharp seats (another big issues in the car on the driver side - being so low, people tend to come across the driver's seat with their ass until they get clear of the car, destroying the material on the left side of the seat), all dash interior trim in place, without scratches or dents, and the clutch and gear shifting should feel flawless.
Oh, and all vehicles will go past Chandler and Son's shop, regardless of the source, for a full inspection. I trust them implicitly with every vehicle I own, and they have handled some hairy jobs for me in the past - my RV can tell those tales stem to stern. They're also endorsed by the great Pat Goss, so don't take my word for it.
My lead sources are Craigslist for Washington, DC, Baltimore, West Virginia, Richmond, and Hampton Roads. I also use eBay, Edmunds, AutoTrader, Cars.com, and some other cats and dogs. I have also looked in metros such as Houston and around Florida, as I have friends in those markets that could close the deal for me there and be trusted. All this market data, and I have found one factor in common - the MINIs hit their value points on the lines of years, mileage, and options - and the points are sticky. I cannot locate a metro where the cars are more than $750 off on average from high-end metros where one might expect cars to be more expensive (and assuredly, some are). While MINIs don't keep their off-the-lot price by any means, once their model year has expired, their price track (after a standard depreciation trend) is pretty predictable and the field is very tight. When I was researching Toyota Prius models, I saw almost the same thing. However the one standout is the people drive their MINIs, and drive them a lot. If there's one past model year 2008 with less than 50k miles on them, they're rare, and demand a high price. These cars are indeed drivers. Also, MINIs have many more options in configuration and trim, which adds additional swing to the price point.
I looked at a lot of them online, and traded emails with several people. While my target is the 'S' model, I have looked at the standard model with the five-speed gearbox (older "new" MINIs have a 1.4L engine, while 2007 on up have the 1.6L engine). I will not consider automatics. The automatic brings the boredom feature to the game, the loss of the command of power, and well, the CVT automatic transmission seems to be very troubled up until 2008. I have seen several for sale that have outright failed transmissions, and have priced the replacement costs - and at $5,000 for the parts and another $1,000 or more for labor and supplies, plus towing, the car quickly becomes worthless, now wearing a replacement transmission that might die just like the old one did. While I'd love a convertible, and they do have 'S' model ragtops, they didn't appear until the 2005 model year, and also demand high dollars.
Here's the story of the first one I set my eyes on to buy, being sold by an 18 year old child who now lives in Ashburn, VA. While I won't divulge names and specifics, and his current ad is on Craigslist, I liked the kid - he's OK. But I suspect he owes someone or some bank money for this car, or they're going to come take it away (or he'll have to keep living with his grandparents to afford a bed and food until the car is gone). One would not need Karrass Negotiation training to know this kid's story - it's like finding the dog by the door, whimpering, looking sad, in a puddle of its own pee, after you heard it barking. While several things could have happened, we know what happened, and we know how to clean it up. We also know that the next time the signs are shown to us, that we need to hit the door when it counts - and that's no different in my story. The ad was a bit blustery, or well, the ad is a bit blustery (since he's re-upped the posting). The claims are large, as he thinks he has the "best" one to list on the Washington, DC Craigslist. I can see past that line - but he claims that specific aspects of the car are perfect, which is odd, since there are no pictures of these claims, and on a quick inspection of the real article, one can find out that he's full of it. One example: he claimed the seats are perfect, and at his scant weight of 120 lbs., the driver's seat looks "unused." When I saw the tell-tale ass-drag damage to the driver's seat, on the horizontal and vertical leather parts, he just shrugged, and said, "Yeah, all MINIs look like that after a while." This kid's path to used car sales could be set, as when I discovered each bad item, he let it roll as if edges did not exist on any surface. Another example - the car, inside, smelled odd to me, so I asked, "Who smoked in this car?" "No one!" the kid replies, with haste. So, I pull the cigarette lighter - ALWAYS DO THIS - and first looked at it (used, with a nice deep burn spot on it) and then, since I have smoked, whiffed in the unheated lighter's core up to my nose. Paydirt: burned cigarette smell, either Marlboro or Camel Lights. The kid seemed too dense to know that he should make note, and replace the lighter element the next day, but that comes with the territory. The lazy assume the Next Guy won't be so sharp.
Oh, there were lots of issues with the car - I pointed them out only gently, as I knew two things: the list would keep growing, and this kid is somehow stuck at the asking price (which, I'll bet, looks just like what the get-out amount is on the note). When I got to about ten or eleven unsightly items, I knew that this car wasn't for me, and this kid will soon learn a painful and tough lesson at 18 when it is repossessed. I went over there not because it was "The Best on Craiglist!" but because Ashburn is on my way home. I didn't know what to expect, so it was a teaching moment for all of us. I called him a few days later and offered $8,500. Oh he balked, and then put that ad right back up. His grandparents likely use their garage, so he parks it outside (as evidenced by the plastic body part fading that is evident) which will just make it easier for repossession.
Back to the drawing board, I see more ads being posted every couple of days in my target price range, and even a few 'S' models appear. I send more emails, ask more questions, get back some answers. Oh, and a tidbit - if you're a car dealer and you list on Craigslist, but neglect to put a price in your ad, I will never call you. Ever. Even if I am in the market, critically, and YOUR car is the one I must have. If you don't have the guts to put the price on a commodity, and face it, a used MINI is just that, then you don't deserve a call. You're not keeping that low-low-low price close to your chest to hide if from the competition just for me to learn. That is a lie, and liars are to be despised. You want to feel me out, and think over your options at the time of my call. Making good numbers today? Lots of leads? Good calls? Then the price is high, and you're not dealing. Slow day? Too hot out for even a dog to walk the lot? Then you might be considerate of a deal. This is your call and not against any law, but it is indecent, and I don't have to play. Either way, it is too offensive and consuming for ME to feel YOU out on the phone. If you sell used cars behind a facade of lies and misdirection, then speaking to you let alone being in your presence is an offence in and of itself. I also know your checkpoints that you need to hear to know where the deal is, but I am getting ahead of myself. Oh, that's coming, Dear Reader. Stay tuned for Part II. 1/7/2009Probably the funniest thing on the Internet right now - someone got a hold of the Van Halen vocal track David Lee Roth sang for Runnin' with the Devil.
They took that track, and made it into a soundboard, here. Load it. Click on it. Hilarity ensues!
HEEEEEEYYYY-YAH-YAH! 11/29/2008
We made the decision this year to get Brigitta a new laptop. Her IBM ThinkPad T42, while a workhorse with a 1,000 options added to it, is at its life's end. I've changed out the hard disk twice, I think, and put in as much RAM as it can handle, but we ask too much of the poor single-CPU Pentium 4. She's sick of how cumbersome it has become.
Our friend, Scott Ford, has been a MacBook user for a long time, and his machine always struck me as nice, but not Windows-nice. Windows-nice means I don't lose anything by switching to Mac. And when I say I don't lose anything, I don't mean the touchy-feely-lacking-at-times Windows interface or quirkiness of it all – what I cannot lose is application compatibility, loss of access to data, and loss of integration with key things we use, like native Microsoft Exchange. I don't want us tied to an anchor where everyone has to make special considerations when they send Brigitta something, or, when she sends something to them. That avoids the whole, "Oh, you're on a Mac…hmm, I'm not sure what to do" scenario.
And then I saw Parallels. I saw it on someone's Mac, and right away, I knew the time for a Mac in our home had come. Let me be specific – what I saw was a Mac, running Parallels, in Coherence mode. In a nutshell, and as far as the user is concerned, both Mac OSX and Windows XP applications co-exist on the same desktop, can even share data, and today, share advanced hardware options. It looks like both OSs have been brought together happily, and if there's ever going to be a convergence in my mind, it would look like Parallels Coherence.
I'd seen VMs before that mixed OSs on a single desktop, but usually in the Windows/UNIX Solaris space, which isn't as useful or compelling. I've also been working with VMs in the Microsoft space and VMware space for a few years now, but the connectivity between apps and OSs always seemed limited to the text of a clipboard space when it came to sharing. Need to send some text from Windows to another VM? OK, it should work. How about the other way? Yeah, probably works. That was about it. Want to share hardware? Well, how about emulated disk access? USB devices? Maybe USB disks? That was about it.
Parallels goes a step further with how the two OSs integrate. Its subtle stuff, like minimized Microsoft apps that get sent to both the XP taskbar as well as the OSX dock – a nice touch. Or that I can snap back from Coherence mode into a single window for XP, and then back, and nothing seems to bug out. And when I run graphic-intensive apps in XP, it runs as if it were running right on the hardware – no loss. Oh, and when XP makes noise, the sound doesn't come out blocky and in chops like it might not make it. Take note Microsoft Virtual PC – I'm running an Intel quad-core X6600, and when I run Microsoft VMs, the sound barely works. The little dual-core Mac lets XP play as far as I'd need it to in the productivity space (Office, Photoshop, etc.). I can't speak to the gamer crowd. I suspect that intense 3-D programs test Parallels, but I do not know for sure. Brigitta's not a gamer.
Yesterday, on Black Friday, I got Brigitta a brand-new MacBook Pro with a 15" screen from Microcenter. Normally I'd never go out to do such a thing on that day, but they'd discounted their inventory on this model from $1,999 to $1,399 – a decent savings in my account. I stood in line to get permission to buy one from a floor sales rep, and I stood in line for hours to pay for it. I have to say, once I got it home and out of the box, that it was worth it.
I had to think about it – I haven't been excited about a new computer in years, and I've owned many. I have gigantic multi-CPU IBM eServers in the rack-mount class that run this site and others. I have a relatively new quad-core, slightly over-clocked, that runs my personal machine with two large LCDs, so I would be able to run Vista without lags – and this machine is loaded to the gills. It didn't excite me. All these machines made me feel was, "Well, at least they'll run well now." True enough, they run well, but that's what I need them to do. I expected all of this technology to keep letting me down for so long, that when it runs correctly, I'm only wondering, how long will it continue?
Then I beheld the MacBook. It feels nice. I'd held Scott's before, but it wasn't mine (or, um, Brigitta's). It was his property, and it was all Mac and unfamiliar and probably incompatible. Now it is here in my home, and in a few short hours of updates and the installation of software, it will do everything I have seen them recently do – have Mac OSX and Windows XP, together, playing nicely.
But again what struck me was how the machine felt. It is smooth, almost weapon-like. Everything about the fit and finish seems to matter. Look at a ThinkPad – jacks on all sides, jaunty plastic aspects sticking out sharply from the bottom and back, clunky keyboards or interfaces, and a pointer with mouse buttons as well as a touchpad with buttons, screen/lid clips that stick out, CD-ROM bays that shoot out at you and say, "Hey, I might break right off!", and the list goes on. Those machines are about utility and features that might serve the user, wrapped in black plastic that will fail down the line (I replaced the bezel to my own ThinkPad twice, due to normal wear and tear, before it finally died). The MacBook is made out of metal, but it isn't heavier than the competition. And the screen – I don't know what they do – but it is crisp and beautiful to look at. And then there's the heat ducts: all Duo Cores run nice and burning hot. All the new Intel machines I have seen, including the Toshiba I use for work, vent that junk air out one side, where anything near that opening is going to be cooked in no time. The MacBook vents this air from the top of the keyboard surface, off to the upper-left, where neither hands or fingers or cables or nice things will ever be. That's a nice touch.
After I got the thing booted up and then installed the Mac software updates, I set out to get Parallels running. It wasn't a simple task, and those who are unfamiliar with VMs in particular or how PCs work in general will suffer greatly. The good news is that Parallel's web forums offered a great deal of support and every question I had was answered. You'll want to know what your right-click options are since a Mac has only one mouse button (hint, set the Mac interface preference to use two fingers on the touch surface+click for the option click, and Parallels will read this as a right-click), and you'll want to know how to send a control-alt-delete key sequence to Windows XP for domain logins and such (hint, use fn-control-option-delete, and it works fine). Once you get past the basics, it is all downhill. Unless, of course, you want to install Windows service packs or join an Active Directory domain – then you need to spend some time learning how the Parallels networking features work (hint, close the VM and set the networking to "bridge" the connection to the default adapter, restart the VM, and voila).
Sure I could have used Boot Camp from Apple to handle the VM, and we still might try it. I'll certainly give it a shot if Brigitta wants to go to Vista and we don't want to shell out who-knows how much for 4GB of MacBook RAM. Parallels supports Vista VMs, but I passed on that for now. In any case, there's a decent comparison of the two here. Brigitta hasn't seen Vista yet, and this MacBook only has 2GB of RAM installed today, so why create a disaster of slow-performing OS confusion for a woman who has never seen OSX or Vista? Since she's my wife, she does not deserve this torture. Anyway, once I finish installing all of the software and migrate her data, I'll ask her to blog about what she thinks of the thing. For now this thing is MINE until I come up with a plan to get my own MacBook! 11/2/2008
Friday night, the wife and I got the feeling that we needed some Chipotle before we had to handle the various aspects of Halloween. The kids are both very independent and quite mobile, and this would be the first year that Oliver would be able to get around as easily as Cassie could, given that he's almost as big and as fast as she is (he's almost 3, she's 5). I left the house to make what thought would be a quick round trip, in and out, to the only "fast food" joint (if you consider it that) we every go to – the Sterling Route 7 Chipotle.
I park the truck, and when I walk up, I'm taken by a sudden feelings of grief and pain – the line is out the door, past the awning, and into the parking lot. I have never seen a line into any Chipotle this long, ever, on the planet. I'm already thinking of my options, but the next closest franchise is in Ashburn, which isn't on my route, and might be just as backed up on an early Friday evening. I decide to get in line, and then I see a fleet of teenagers – all in some fashion wearing tin foil. OK, it's Halloween, so anything goes. See the pic in this post.
I get in line, and one of them has a box of fresh foil, and he's helping people in line festoon hats, belts, and bustiers out of thin, shiny metal. Iit must be a High School Halloween thing, I gather, and I quietly do what everyone else usually does in line at Chipotle – I scan my phone/PDA for whatever. A few minutes later, one of the highschooler rookie fashion designers asks me if I want some foil. "Ah, no thanks dude, I'm cool," I tell him, and then he lets me in on the secret that everyone but me seems to know: put on some foil, and Chipotle will grant me a free burrito. Well, no shit? No shit. I ask for some foil, and I made a small wristband out of it. That's as far as I was going to take this prank. I can afford to buy the burritos if it comes to it – I did bring the cash, in crisp, new, unmarked bills.
But true to the kid's words, when I got up to the counter, the staff in fact did honor my foil adornment and granted me one free burrito. It was sort of intoxicating – I had to stand there, and wonder if I could get back in line, how many of these things could I really eat? Three? Four? In an absolute primal sense, I wanted to know. But the truth is I am a grown man that sports a decent build and average, slightly elevated cholesterol, with a wife and kids at home that need their dad back, quickly, and in serviceable shape for an evening of candy sacking. I figured that if I got back on line, I could down one burrito and be in place to order another right on time…NO! MUST…NOT…DO…THIS! I took my burritos – one paid for, and one free, and headed home. Once I did get home, Brigitta wanted to know what the heck took me so long? Good thing I left the restaurant when I did!
Later, Halloween would be a major, unqualified success for the kids. We'll have candy here for over a month, I think…but no free Chipotle. Man! 10/27/2008
A few Superbowls ago, there was a Reebok commercial about a white-collar office that was struggling with productivity, morale, and professionalism. The cure, per their CEO: Terry Tate, also known as Triple-T, Office Linebacker. Of all the commercials I have ever seen, no other series of personality, calamity, correction, and victory ring out to me like those of Terry Tate's antics. Well, I love the GEICO cavemen, but Reebok's Terry Tate is far more visceral.
If you've ever imagined someone getting drilled at top speed by a NFL-sized personality at work for taking the last pen from the closet, or putting the coffee pot back dead empty, or leaving an easy-to-clear paper jam in the copier, then you'd appreciate Terry Tate.
So, I was happy to discover that Terry is back, but this time, he's drilling Alaska governor and VP candidate Sarah Palin into the ground for being incompetent during media interviews. The results if you've seen Terry's work previously will be enjoyable – and if you haven't seen Terry at work, then you'll be a bit shocked to see his craft in action, here and here. The editing is spot-on, and I'm not surprised to see that people think these videos are real. But one doesn't need to be a Secret Service junkie to know these videos were not real, but merely a Leesburg, VA resident. I don't think you can get within 1,000 feet or more of anyone in politics these days without an invite, proper clearance, and a signed statement of intent to discuss only Pleasant Things that will raise their image.
Sarah Palin spoke at a rally this morning on JR Festival Lakes, a few blocks from my house. It was pandemonium getting out of the neighborhood. But the sheriff officer posted outside my kid's elementary school, several blocks from the park's entrance, was pretty funny. Without support of traffic direction, this lonely officer was forcing every car entering the school from four lanes of roadway, both east and westbound, to pull over so she could ask the driver, "What's your business here today?" I had to stare for a second and probably got myself added to watch list, when I said/asked, dumbfounded, "Um, I'm here to drop off my kids?" My son waved at the officer. I was cleared to enter the school premises. 10/8/2008
It never ceases to amaze me. Outside of a handful of 'em, politicians want my money. First, they ask for "support." Support is such a general term. "Will you support me?" is a big, open ended question, and could involve some serious commitment. "Would you support me for office?" sounds sort of harmless. One can almost say, "Sure, I'll support you for office." It looks like it costs nothing, except for a vote down the line.
But the support message is a cash message, and I know, you're thinking, "What are you, a dumbass, Scott? Everyone knows this!" Well, like a car accident, I can't help but look, or even stare. I read every single word when I get a political donation request in a letter in the mail. They get more of my time than the political callers do - writing and mailing things takes time, so it deserves some attention. Any moron can pick up a phone and guess my number.
Where do they get the suggested amounts? That's sort of a mystery to me. Is it stats? People, when given the choice between $25, $35, and $45 will choose the middle amount? But I digress...
I already know where they get my name. These letters are never addressed to a Current Resident or Other Seemingly Bored Person. No, these puppies are personalized. A few years ago, I was stunningly dumb enough to give to my former employer's PAC (see, you were right, I am a dumbass). I gave a good amount, as prescribed to me by my old boss, who is now a convicted felon (on these affairs) awaiting sentencing. What I didn't know was that would land me in a few web sites, where will be forever tracked as a donator. A quick scan of Open Secrets' website with my name and and the 2003 election cycle will show I gave at least $1,500. I know I gave at least this much, maybe more. I know that Jim Drinkard from USA Today called me and wanted to know why I gave as much as I did, to who I gave it to. Good questions, Jim! I needed to keep my job going, and I didn't know the boss was a criminal! Now we all know.
But that's another story. The fact is, I'm their GOP mark now, and they can't even ask me nicely for the money. They have to paint the worst picture of all time, for which they are the ONLY answer. If I tried to sell this way in my own job, I'd be without customers the next day. It is a horrible pitch that must only work on the deep partisans, who already feel this doom-and-gloom way. How boring.
Save the letters, boys. Keep 'em. Never again will I shell out a cent for a politician that "needs it" to get into office. The whole idea is dumb, and connected to the root of the problem in our political system. 10/3/2008
So, I called the results of the VP debate wrong. What I'd hoped for was the fight I'd expected the Steelers to give the Ravens on Monday night. I feel asleep at the half, because the Steelers were playing badly. I didn't know they'd eek out a win, and as tired as I was, I would have gone to sleep anyway.
That's why I commented on the debate before it got underway. I wanted to see some Smashmouth Politics. "Are you ready for some Politics?" I mean, c'mon, its the VEEPs. Who cares is a little blood gets spilled by the Number 2s?
In retrospect, either Palin is better on debating than she is speaking on deep, instant specifics to the media, or Joe Biden saw no reason to smack her. Nearly every time she made a swipe at Old Joe, he'd flash a great, large smile. He took it all in tremendous stride.
But Palin, you've got to drop those cutesy winks. They're not very professional. They bug me, actually. They're condescending, sort of. I'm not sure why, but they seem to say, "See, that's the Real Deal, folks" but, um, sometimes it isn't the Real Deal. I end up feeling like I'm buying a car from her.
As for Joe, he scored big in my book. Sure, he was a skewed as she was on facts - we must expect this - but when he choked up over thinking about his boys almost dying...
Allow me to riff here: I used to be in the room when the now disgraced Randall 'Duke' Cunningham, former congressman from CA would weep as he remembered shooting down MiGs in Vietnam and having to eject to save his own fat ass. I was wowed. I'd come to find that The Duke is perhaps the largest Titty Baby that ever held office. He weeps when he makes spare change. He weeps over running out of Post It notes. He chokes up when he forgets someone's phone number. He almost dried out the Mulholland Aqueduct when he was sentenced to 8 years in prison.
But when Joe's pipes clogged, I was almost weeping for him. I love my wife and kids more than anything, and I cannot even fathom thinking about what losing them would be like. It is beyond me. I have seen it happen to friends this past year - my old college friends Jim and Carrie Pedersen - Carrie and their son were killed in a wreck that Jim and their daughter survived. I cannot think about what that does to someone.
Joe's solid in my book. Palin seems like she's good at last-minute brushing-up for tests. She's an 11th hour player. My dad always disliked it when I went for that - there's no accounting for piss-poor performance when one trys to duck under the wire at the last minute. It leaves too much to chance, and why?
In Palin's case, I'm not sure. She could be lacking in education and the critical thinking departments to go past, "Say it ain't so, Joe!" It was like Reagan came back younger, and as a woman. "Folksy" isn't what I think will work, but it seems to play. See, Ronald Reagan wasn't a hockey mom. He was the Govornator of a big state, too (CA, '67 to '75), and before that, he ran the Screen Actor's Guild, where more money and power flows than one might expect. Maybe more than all the oil in Alaska.
Well, whatever gets votes, I guess. As for me, I feel like I should have stayed up to watch the Steelers game on Monday. 10/2/2008Biden will lead in landed-jabs and will contain the overall punch count in his column. Palin will wander around the ring, dodging blows and flailing, and eventually we will see her brow opened above her right eye. She won't land a real blow where it counts. Jokes about Biden's age, or time in elected office will not slow him down.
Blood will gush. People will be throwing in towels, cups of beer, and food items. End round one.
The ref won't stop the fight. In the second round, Biden will be treating her like a practice toy. Jab, jab, body-blow, to the face! WILL SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THIS FIGHT! Palin won't even be able to keep her hands up. Oh, the humanity.
This will be like Rocky I, except more realistic. Rocky was a character who didn't fall because the script called for him to stand. That's why we go to the movies. In real life, Apollo Creed would be a crushing, dangerous force, delivering a sure-thing ending.
This is my prediction. I could be wrong.
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