“Don’t ever mess with the hippo.” One of my best friends of all time from sub-Saharan Africa told me that human river waders who underestimate the aggression and speed of the hippo may end up being slammed and jammed in a very uncomfortable way by a fast moving gigantic watermelon on legs.

And so it is with the federal government’s Hippo Crisy, hired by the President, Congress and the Car Czar to assist in the gobbling up of America’s once vibrant car biz. Big government’s Hippo Crisy, a native of the Zambezi River delta and a veteran of combat with killer crocs, was brought on board as a contractor (three year term) with a salary of $5 million per year and with full health care insurance coverage, including comprehensive dental. Sweet package!

For the first few months on the job, the feds’ Hippo Crisy was tasked merely to bask in the sun on finely manicured lawns outside the enormous, energy-sucking “cribs” (hometown mansions) of John Edwards, Al Gore and President Obama. About once a week, Hippo Crisy was tossed a capitalist bone in the form of a bank or an insurance company, but her increasing appetite for privately held companies became excessive and spun quickly out of control. She liked the taste of sugary sweet "Capitalist Crunch" cereal and wanted only more, more, more. Sheesh!

At the same time, Hippo Crisy’s finely honed Zambezi River delta “survival of the fittest” values were being corrupted by her new employer, the federal government. Once a hunter and seeker of sustenance, Hippo Crisy no longer wanted to work for a living. She no longer wanted to take action. She no longer wanted to move. She no longer wanted to produce. She had been turned into a government-fed, government-sustained system beater, par excellence. Hey, she considered such a dramatic lifestyle change to be 100% fair. In fact, it represented change that Hippo Crisy could believe in.

In the form of a well conditioned system beater, the feds’ Hippo Crisy soon began to complain more as she did less. Her nanny state employers, instead of documenting her sub-standard performance and reprimanding her, reframed her required duties to include more paid SOYA (Sit on Your - - -) time and scheduled more back massages and pedicures to be carried out during her work hours. Not another month had passed before Hippo Crisy had her own Secret Service detail composed of highly trained female lions recruited from the plains of the Serengeti. And when Hippo Crisy moved, she moved in a stretch limo, not in a soap box derby go cart. And her Secret Service simbas wheeled around in super spiffy black full size SUVs. Government Hippo Crisy, in action. All the way. Shouting loudly, “Yes, we can!” in the taxpayers’ faces.

Ahhhhh! Getting paid to sit back and do nothing was certainly “the life” for the federal government’s Hippo Crisy. Why, indeed, would any sane hippo contemplate working for a living? However, the best was yet to come. During late Spring of 2009, at the invitation of her hypocritical federal government employers, Hippo Crisy opened her jaws, stretched them to the max, and swallowed Chrysler and General Motors in quick succession. Having been seasoned with government-approved butter-free-butter and salt-free-salt prior to grilling, Chrysler and GM formed a tasty two course gourmet dinner meal for the federal government’s favorite capital-consuming beast.

Banks? Insurance companies? Car manufacturers? Car dealers? Who’s next? What’s next? Only big government’s Hippo Crisy and her hypocritical, capitalism-hating employers know for sure. One thing’s for certain. If you work hard for your money and if you work for someone who does the same, keep your heads up and your eyes peeled. There’s an always hungry Hippo Crisy hiding just beneath the surface of the water, waiting patiently to devour the capitalist dream that you both hold close to your hearts. And know that Hippo Crisy’s leash is both thin and weak. Just ask the big government-loving hypocrites on Capitol Hill who hold that leash loosely as they go shopping for Hippo Crisy's next free meal. Could that next meal be you?

Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13)

Driving Sales community members, please know that my late Uncle, U.S. Army 2nd Lieutenant Geoffrey C. Ferris, Field Artillery, (Distinguished Service Cross, Silver Star, Purple Heart, Killed in Action at Beja, Tunisia, North Africa, May 6, 1943) and my late father, U.S. Army Major Stuart C. Ferris, Field Artillery (a veteran of the Omaha Beach landing and the infamous Battle of the Bulge), were both avid "car nuts" who would be thrilled to see what is happening right now on Driving Sales. Consider hoisting "a cold one" this weekend in their honor. They would get the biggest kick out of being so recognized by members of the automotive industry.

Readers who are veterans of military service or who otherwise appreciate the cost of freedom, take a few minutes during Memorial Day weekend to read my Uncle Geoffrey's posthumous citation for heroism (see below), read also the lyrics of the beautiful hymn "Mansions of the Lord" (from the soundtrack of the film "We Were Soldiers"), and say a silent prayer for our nation's brave airmen, soldiers, Marines and coastguardsmen who have made the ultimate sacrifice so that our loved ones and all of us may sleep peacefully, free from fear.

Mansions of the Lord (Lyrics)

To fallen soldiers let us sing,
Where no rockets fly nor bullets wing,
Our broken brothers let us bring
To the Mansions of the Lord.

No more bleeding, no more fight,
No prayers pleading through the night,
Just divine embrace, eternal light
In the Mansions of the Lord.

Where no mothers cry and no children weep,
We will stand and guard though the angels sleep,
Oh through the ages safely keep
The Mansions of the Lord.

FERRIS, GEOFFREY C. (KIA) Citation: The President of the United States takes pride in presenting the Distinguished Service Cross (Posthumously) to Geoffrey C. Ferris (0-420345), Second Lieutenant (Field Artillery), U.S. Army, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy while serving with the 6th Battalion, 33d Field Artillery Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, in action against enemy forces on 6 May 1943, near Beja, Tunisia. On the morning of 6 May 1943, the 33d Artillery Regiment was given the mission of taking Hill 139 in the vicinity of Beja, Tunisia. Because of the heavy machine gun and mortar fire covering all approaches, it was necessary to attack before daylight. Second Lieutenant Ferris, as artillery forward observer with the assault elements, crawled forward across open terrain swept by withering enemy machine gun fire to a point well beyond our lines. Realizing the danger of his mission, he had ordered his men to remain behind while he advanced with a wire reel and telephone until he was killed. The unselfish heroism and the courage and zeal with which Second Lieutenant Ferris performed this deed exemplify the highest traditions of the military forces of the United States and reflect great credit upon himself, the 1st Infantry Division, and the United States Army. Headquarters, U.S. Army, North African Theater of Operations, General Orders No. 47 (July 6, 1943)

33d Field Artillery Regimental crest bearing the Latin motto "Servabo Fidem", "I will keep the faith"

America will always love you, Uncle Geoffrey. You kept the faith, courageously, to the end. You died willingly so that soldiers under your command might live. You will never be forgotten.

Your loving nephew Chris

Christopher Ferris
Captain, Military Intelligence, U.S. Army (active duty rank)
S-2, 3d Battalion, 39th Infantry, 1st Brigade, 9th Infantry Division
OIC, Analysis & Production, Military Intelligence Company, 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne)

During a time long ago when dinosaurs still walked the Earth and I was a ninth grader, I had the good fortune to play right wing on my school's soccer team during the first year of that institution's soccer program. It was truly a learning experience, as teams with years of training and games under their belts thumped us with discouraging regularity.

One of my most valued teammates was named Peter. Peter was deaf from birth and struggled mightily to articulate and pronounce words. In spite of what we perceived to be Peter's disability, he would accept no limits on his activities and he would place no boundaries on his successes. Peter played soccer with a zeal that was well beyond remarkable.

Due to his hearing disability, Peter had to compensate for the lack of heard sound by becoming extra aggressive and vigilant with respect to his vision and his movement. His head was constantly turning as he raced up and down the field. He was unstoppable. He was undefeatable. He was a machine. In fact, he was a "terminator" in action well before Hollywood coined that word and attached it to Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Because Peter knew that we, his teammates, sometimes struggled to understand him as he attempted to express himself, he chose to "keep it simple" on the soccer field. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and he delighted in letting us know that because we could not understand the English language as he spoke it, he was going to voluntarily limit himself to using one exclamation while on the field. That exclamatory phrase was: "Come on! Come on!"

During each game, when our spirits were low and our bodies were run down, Peter would run at top speed all around us, shouting, "Come on! Come on!", over and over, just to make sure that we got the message. Our coach loved the stark simplicity of Peter's "KITA" (kick in the - - - ) approach to giving encouragement to his peers. So did we.

Peter proved to us that anything was possible if one combined courage with persistence and resilience. The beauty of Peter's approach was that he combined constant activity and motion with a clear, simple reinforcing message, and he did it consistently, at every practice session, during every game.

Adversaries who had initially (and foolishly) mocked Peter due to his "difference" grew to fear his relentless focus on crushing them on the field. There was no malice involved, of course. Peter was also the consummate good sport who loved to introduce himself to members of the opposing team while engaging in the traditional post-competition "good game" hand slapfest.

What is the lesson for all of us in Peter's example? Well, all I know is that I still say to myself, sometimes stridently, "Come on! Come on!", whenever I feel as if I want to start to unfurl a white flag of surrender to be run up a post. The no-nonsense, repeated command "Come on, Come on!" exhorts any person sensing momentary defeat to take a deep breath, open his eyes, get his bearings, reassess his position, focus on his goal, and get moving to achieve it!

Stressed out by today's crisis? Worried about tomorrow's problem? Anxious because the future is uncertain? Come on! Come on! The best times, for all of us, are just down the road. Look, just beyond the trees. Sunshine. A blue sky. No clouds. No rain. There's no doubt about it. Serious good times are coming. Soon. Just ask Peter.

Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

Omaha Beach. The next time you are tempted to feel sorry for yourself because your GM teed off on you, your skittish customer vanished into thin air (sans T.O.) after a demo ride, or you had to split a monster gross commission with a know nothing newbie who appeared to have used the film 10,000 B.C. as a sales training video and as a fashion guide, take a deep breath to regain your perspective.

Repeat the words "Omaha Beach" a few times, and thank the Good Lord that you are not wading ashore (today) into a hail of fast moving metal projectiles that felled many brave Americans on a bleak, late Spring day during June of 1944. The courageous men buried in a massive cemetery located above the beaches at Normandy, France, did not disembark from their landing craft years ago to buy Egg McMuffins for their sales teams at Mickey D’s or to treat their buddies to Denny’s Grand Slam breakfasts because last month’s used car gross was way, way up. No, their mission on that fateful day was to make a voluntary ultimate sacrifice so that you and I could be free today to banter back and forth on line about exciting web trends and to face with optimism the numerous challenges of a rapidly changing car business and a turbulent world economy.

My late father, then U.S. Army Major Stuart Ferris, did the Omaha Beach boogie, survived unscathed, and fought his way across Belgium and France into Germany until the enemy surrendered. As I look at Dad’s photos, many taken in the Ardennes Forest during the infamous Battle of the Bulge, I am amazed at his smiling countenance and at the smiles on the faces of his fellow soldiers. Under often horrific conditions, Dad and his resilient comrades knew what had to be done and they just did it.

Defeat was not a word in my Dad’s vocabulary, and he always reminded me that attitude was the critical first step on the bumpy road to eventual victory. I watched and marveled through the years as my Dad, propelled by a relentlessly positive attitude and an infectious smile, shrugged off mistakes, missteps and seemingly insurmountable problems. He just kept moving forward with dogged determination to achieve his dual objectives: taking superb care of his beloved family and making thousands of friends along the way.

Dad passed away before the epic film “Saving Private Ryan” was released. I wept unashamedly as I watched the harrowing, opening scenes of that movie. I kept repeating the phrase, “Oh, Dad!” quietly in my mind, as the carnage of the D-Day invasion was depicted on the screen in brutally realistic fashion. What my Dad and his fellow artillerymen must have seen probably defies description. But the chaos and sadness encountered at Omaha Beach during June 1944 never framed my Dad’s view of the limitless possibilities of life. Dad’s greatness was in his ability to combine his upbeat attitude, his deep love of family, friends, neighbors, customers and complete strangers, and his intellectual acumen to form an unbeatable approach to life, and, in the end, to death.

It should come as no surprise to readers of this essay that my Dad excelled during his 40 year long sales career and received numerous accolades for outstanding performance in his chosen profession. His strong faith helped to mitigate the fear he must have felt at Omaha Beach during June of 1944, but the hard lessons he learned about fate on that same beach only served to make him dig that much deeper to love his fellow man even more. As an unintended consequence of how my Dad lived and loved, he always had his "game face" on. 24 x 7. Long before the age of the worldwide web, facebook, myspace and twitter, Dad was what one might call a “pre-web 1.0” expert in social networking.

(Side note to Dad up above on high: the way you chose to live, the way you were prepared to die selflessly for your fellow Americans long ago, the way you never surrendered when facing adversity, the way you always loved and helped those less fortunate than you, in every way, you still impress the heck out of your youngest son. Yes, Dad, you were, are and always will be my number one hero.)

O.K. now, car guys and gals, “on line commandos” one and all, ask yourselves, what’s your personal Omaha Beach? Take stock of your lives, analyze your current “crisis of the moment” that has you wanting to start cursing and spouting negativity, and then whisper “Omaha Beach” and consider not only what happened at that now historic site during June of 1944, but reflect on an Omaha Beach event in your own life that you faced and survived to breathe and live another fantastic day. Because all of your days in sales are indeed fantastic, regardless of the immediate outcome. (If you do not believe me, feel free to ask my Dad via a silent prayer.)

Still stressed out? Think momentarily of your own Omaha Beach, smile at your current good fortune, gather your inner strength, and then move forward with confidence to embrace what will surely become a better day for you and for everyone around you, including your valued customers. Who knows? One of those customers might even be Private Ryan’s grandson who has been waiting for years to be saved from a retail sales world full of cynics by a consummately courteous, ethical and honorable sales professional … you!

 Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

"Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war ..." Julius Caesar, Act 3, scene 1 (William Shakespeare)

"The Dogs of War" was a classic action film that starred Christopher Walken as the leader of a band of mercenaries (dogs of war) tasked with assisting in the overthrow of the government of a (mythical) African country named Zangara. The movie was actually filmed in Belize and is well worth watching, especially if one admires Mr. Walken's acting skills. What does all of this have to do with car sales, you ask?

Daisy Duke and Emmie Lou (shown in the photo above) are automotive sales professionals extraordinaire! These two fantastic female mountain cur / boxer mixes came to the Ferris family courtesy of West Tennessee Animal Rescue. Mrs. Ferris and I picked them up while attending the March 2007 Digital Dealer conference held in Nashville, Tennessee. Daisy Duke and Emmie Lou really like Dealer Communications President Mike Roscoe, since Mike convinced me to attend that specific conference! He is definitely responsible for their current cushy lifestyle in the Granite State!

Soon after their arrival at our home, Daisy Duke and Emmie Lou graced my previous employer's (GM dealer) website. Customer reaction was immediate, overwhelming and continuous. Hmmm. We were onto something. And it was something good. Many phone, e-mail and in person inquiries centered around the dogs. Customers who inquired about Daisy Duke and Emmie Lou could not wait to tell us about their own pets. And so, it began. We learned quickly to take notice of our customers' devotion to their pets and to make use of such relationships to build rapport.

Here's a brief hit list of how to use your own "dogs of (car) war" to increase gross profit and CSI:

Talk to your customers about their pets. Talk to your customers about your pets. Compare photos. Share stories.

Show genuine affection for your customers' pets. Sales consultants and managers, service advisors and managers: remember your customers' pets' breeds and names. I am serious. Customers will be astounded and will love you in return. Service advisors: please take note of pets being moved out of customers' vehicles during walk arounds and write ups. The customers will be glad you did. Trust me, so will you, when the final R.O. has been written.

Stock your service waiting area and your receptionists' desks with canine and feline snacks and with bowls full of clean water. Keep a few extra dog leashes handy. Keep a few small plastic shovels and many plastic bags handy for hoo hah patrol. (Hey, we're in the car business. We take hoo hah every day and smile. So, we can shovel it, too, as needed, and still smile.)

Grace your website's staff page with a canine and a feline mascot. Create an accurate biography for each animal and make sure that your mascots actually hang around the dealership for visitors to see, appreciate and spoil. The customers and mascots will love it. Mascots love to jump in on a T.O. at every opportunity.

Hire a mobile pet washing service to come in once per month to conduct complimentary pet "recons" for service customers having major work done and for customers taking delivery of recently bought new or used vehicles. To avoid having a pet "war of the worlds" occur in your service drive, you can schedule separate "recon" days for cats and dogs.

One need only watch a few episodes of Cesar Millan's "The Dog Whisperer" or "Dogtown USA" to understand that the same Americans who love their cars, trucks and SUVs love their cats and dogs even more. What's beautiful is that these beloved cats and dogs oftentimes ride around in their customers' vehicles and are just waiting to be welcomed at a dealership. Or not. The choice is yours.

Daisy Duke and Emmie Lou love to snooze as the rays of the sun warm their bodies. The gross profit that they dream about is yours for the taking. All you have to do is let loose the dogs of (car) war on line, in your showroom and in your service waiting area. And the cats, too. Your dealer principal will thank you for being pet smart, indeed, when he reviews the monthly statement.

 Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

With all of the "what to name your baby" books flooding the market for the past few generations, something unusual has surely transpired. No, it is not a conspiracy, to be sure, but it is definitely a phenomenon worth investigating. A million plus babies named "Justa" have grown into adults and, as soon as they have reached adulthood, they have descended like locusts upon automotive dealerships all over the USA.

They have swarmed our showroom floors, our service drives, our parts counters, our front lines, our websites and our telephone switchboards from all directions. And this all but inexplicable invasion of Justas continues relentlessly 24 x 7, seemingly unaffected by the current turbulence in the national and world economies. Well, every dealer may not have the Minnow's fearless crew from Gilligan's Island to deal courageously with the Justa invasion problem, but he can always call upon his own Justa Defense Force (JDF) unit to keep his domestic and import franchises safe and secure.

Worry not that JDF unit members might be unskilled. All JDF unit members have undergone basic and advanced intelligence collection and target identification training. As the late, great Green Beret singer Barry Sadler would be crooning today, if he were still alive, "One hundred auto sales consultants will train today, but only three win the JDF beret."

Doubtful? Here are some examples of first rate intelligence collection and target identification passed on directly by JDF unit members in verbal after action reports. (Rigid security regulations required as part of OPERATION NOLOG prevented the documentation of the following data in any dealerships' CRM systems or paper desk logs.)

He's JUSTA brochure seeker.

She's JUSTA tire kicker.

He's JUSTA lost soul who is asking for directions.

She's JUSTA vendor who wants to sell us something.

He's JUSTA driver delivering new cars.

She's JUSTA driver picking up used cars for auction.

He's JUSTA friend of the GSM's second cousin's great aunt who still drives a Yugo.

She's JUSTA person who e-mails us all of the time and never buys anything.

He's JUSTA parts driver for one of our wholesale accounts.

She's JUSTA bi-weekly be back who is three months away from buying.

He's JUSTA price grinder who will torpedo us on CSI.

She's JUSTA look-e-loo who is not serious about purchasing anytime soon.

He's JUSTA guy who is looking for a car for his son who is serving in the Peace Corps in Zambia.

She's JUSTA complaining customer who does not like our dealership.

He's JUSTA stroker who will waste my valuable time.

She's JUSTA close friend of the general manager's attorney whose daughter attends college with the dealer principal's son.

You get the picture. Years ago, millions of reflective women felt compelled to name their babies Justa and, baby, those grown up Justas have decided that automotive dealerships are absolutely fantastic places to hang out!

Here's the good: sales consultants serving in JDF units do not have to remember multiple first names, since almost every person that they encounter is named Justa.

Here's the bad: every Justa has a weird, unusual surname that may be hard for a sales consultant serving in a JDF unit to remember. (Thank God that such unconventional surnames never have to be written down. Whew.)

Here's the ugly: for every Justa that is noticed casually, pigeon-holed verbally and then ignored or repelled by a sales consultant who serves in a dealership's JDF unit, the long term loss of gross profit in sales, service, parts and accessories should justa 'bout stop that dealer's heart from beating.

What is the daily Justa count at your dealership? Who serves (too) proudly and (too) willingly in your dealership's JDF unit? What can be done to turn all Justas into opportunities? These are questions that definitely need to be asked. Yes, some answers that you find may be hard to swallow, but the discovery process is justa 'nother step along the road to transforming your dealership into a place where no potential customer's first name is ever Justa.

 Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

Many years ago when I was undergoing Army Special Forces training at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, I was assigned to mentor, as my SF buddy, an airborne infantry lieutenant from a sub-Saharan African country who was attending the same course as a guest of the United States government. At the time, his country’s government had friendly relations with the USA. Due to changing political winds over the past two decades, I will have to refer to my SF buddy as “MSB” in this essay to insure his continued safety. Why? He is a prominent politician in his homeland these days, and there are those who might use an “American connection” against him.

During one of our many camo-clad jaunts through the woods of rural western North Carolina, we got turned around (big time) and had to sneak out to a nearby dirt road junction to determine our exact location. As we approached that intersection, we noticed three white males exiting from the side door of a nearby church and heading for a battered Ford F-100 pick up parked nearby.

Before I could counsel MSB to sit tight and observe, he bounded out of the woods with his M-16A1 rifle slung over his right shoulder and his map & compass held in his right hand. Smiling widely and waving, he approached the three men directly and introduced himself.

Let’s just say that these “three musketeers” were not exactly Steve Forbes and two of his financial advisors, nor were they military personnel, given their slovenly appearance and their long, unkempt hair. They were definitely locals. Judging by the shocked looks on their faces, the clan with which they were likely most familiar did not wear kilts or get together to sing “Loch Lomond” or talk about the unsuccessful Jacobite uprising of 1745 against the British Crown.

As I watched, horror struck, from about 25 meters away, MSB greeted them all personally, shook hands all around, and then placed his map on the hood of the F-100. Ever the gentleman, MSB asked the three musketeers polite questions about their pickup truck, about the Winchester Model Model 94 30-30 rifle in their truck’s gun rack, and about their church. He expressed admiration for the utility of their truck, praised the slim, functional design of their rifle, and commented about the simple beauty of the exterior of the church.

All the while, the stunned three musketeers were staring at the prominent ceremonial tribal scarring on his face and at his filed teeth. One of the men finally said, “Boy, you’re not from around here, are you?” MSB, smiling, replied with the name of his home town and his country of origin, but he did not mention Africa at all. The same musketeer then asked, “That ain’t down near Charlotte, is it?” MSB charged right ahead verbally. He delighted in telling his newly found American pals about the exact location of his hometown and country on the continent of Africa. I recall that “Woo eee!” was the collective response.

Without missing a beat, MSB asked what game the men hunted with their Winchester rifle. The response was “deer.” MSB replied that he had been required to hunt lion with a spear when he was a teenager. You should have seen the widening of the three musketeers’ eyes. Just minutes later, MSB, raised by Christian missionaries, was being given a guided tour of the interior of the three musketeers’ church. You could have knocked me over with a feather. Finally, just before we departed, the three musketeers checked our map carefully and gave us some solid tips on how to navigate around local obstacles. The three musketeers slapped MSB’s back and he slapped theirs, and they exchanged hearty good wishes and genuine pleasantries as if they were close friends or relatives. Wow. Make that "Whew!"

As we jogged back into the woods, I gave MSB a Cliff Notes version of black-white relations in the rural American South and advised him that he could have been killed. His response? “Chris, sometimes, you Americans worry too much about unimportant things. In this case, my skin color. Here in North Carolina, we go out at night on weekends to Hardees to get burgers to eat. Where I live, if we go out at night, something will surely be seeking to eat us. What was the worst thing that could have happened to me here? Maybe God could have pushed me to work a little bit harder to make the three white men be unafraid of my face. Hey, we are good to go! I just made three brand new friends!” He meant it.

MSB, totally unafraid and unaware of existing prejudices, sold three customers the color black (with visible “paint damage”) in a very tight spot where the same customers were conditioned to want and accept only the color white. It was a lesson in the power of courage combined with courtesy that I will never forget as long as I shall live. Courage + courtesy = sale made with perfect CSI to follow!

 Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

They live! They really do.

Not the skeleton-faced aliens in the Rowdy Roddy Piper sci-fi film of that name (“They Live”) who disguised themselves as humans and controlled the media spin on all current events. Nope.

Not the chain store shufflenos of all ages wearing service pin-adorned blue, orange or red vests bearing mindless slogans such as “How can I help you?” as they run away from you at breakneck speed if you should dare to approach them in an attempt to ask a question. Nope.

Not the fast food store burger slingers who respond monotonically to every departing burger chomper, “Have a nice day.” Nope.

Well meaning, well trained, highly skilled people within our own industry. They live. Conditioned like Pavlov’s dogs by years of repetition, sales and service professionals in the auto industry have taken to using and reusing the phrase “no problem” reflexively, day in, day out, whenever their customers might have requests or might ask simple questions.

Of course, there’s no inherent evil in the two word phrase “no problem”, that’s not the issue.

The problem with the phrase “no problem” is twofold.

1. It has become a reflexive, “deflecting” response that is so commonly heard that it is now totally devoid of any substantive meaning.

2. It contains the noun “problem.”

Using an empty phrase that is uttered daily by hundreds of thousands of other sales and service professionals nationwide does nothing to differentiate you from the pack. But, if that’s no problem, then, hey, no problem.

And why would you voluntarily select and utter the noun “problem” in any sentence, since your customers, influenced by widespread (unfair) stereotypes of our industry, may be expecting to encounter some sort of “problem” during interactions with you, even if you are truly the greatest thing since sliced bread?

I don’t have a problem with much in this fantastic world of ours, but I do have a problem with “no problem.” You should, too. If not, no problem. See what I mean? Evaluate the extent of the “no problem” problem at your dealership today. Your customers will be glad you did.

Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net 

www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

As Santa Anna’s disciplined, well trained Mexican Army prepared to conduct a final assault on the Alamo on the morning of March 6, 1836, one can only surmise what Colonel Travis might have said to Davy Crockett, “Yes, Davy, we’re in big trouble, but look on the bright side, things could be much worse, we could be the CEOs of Chrysler and GM in Spring of 2009!”

The rest is history. Santa Anna’s forces overran the Alamo in short order and took no prisoners. Travis, Crockett and their comrades went down fighting before they could declare Chapter 11 or be tossed out of their offices by the President of the United States or a Horse Czar. In the process, they became part of a Texas legend.

After the Alamo fell, Texans rallying to avenge the defeat took up the battle cry, “Remember the Alamo”, a slogan which remains famous to this day. Many embattled auto business professionals may suffer from occasional bouts of “Colonel Travis Syndrome” as they struggle to keep their companies and dealerships from being overwhelmed by current challenging economic conditions. It can be awfully tempting to compare one’s own situation to the crisis faced by the Alamo’s defenders in 1836.

What to do? Tweak the historical slogan slightly and say, “Remember the PALamo!”

Persistence.

Attitude.

Language.

These are three key, simple attributes / elements that merit your attention on a daily basis if you wish to move with certainty and confidence through the current rough seas.

Persistence in the form of dogged determination is definitely an underrated quality. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill was a zealous advocate and practitioner of persistence. For that reason, today’s Britons do not drive on autobahns, celebrate Oktoberfest, wear lederhosen or speak German as a first language.

Attitude. One’s view of the present moment and of tomorrow frames one’s destiny. The most fantastic plan in the business world can be derailed if its implementer has a jaded attitude. Attitude is 100% controllable. Take control of it. 24 x 7.

Language. Words are gifts that lie dormant in a dictionary and in our brains until we choose to use them. Words can also be “improvised explosive devices” if we select them imprudently and then use them carelessly. Unleash the power of language every day in verbal and written communication to send your customers a clear message that your organization is balanced, centered, focused, reliable, upbeat and ready to exceed their expectations.

Best news of all? The “Remember the PALamo” slogan is 100% free. No invoice. No hit on your monthly statement. No vendor calling your controller weekly to whine that he has not gotten your check as payment for services rendered.

Does your organization practice persistence at all levels?

Do your employees (every last one of them) understand how attitude affects the stability of the business and their paychecks?

Do your employees comprehend how language (word choice) gives them an opportunity to impress and retain or depress and repel your customers during each and every email, telephone and face to face contact?

“Remember the PALamo” at your next management meeting. Tell your managers to come as they are. No boots, muskets or Stetsons are required.

 Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris

I drank Tang religiously as a kid and prayed that gulping down that orange energy drink would help me become a NASA astronaut. Tang ran one heck of an ad campaign, that's for sure. Alas, I never got to wear an astronaut's cool blue flight suit or to put my boots on the surface of the moon, but God remembered my prayers. You see, He allowed me, in His infinite wisdom, to get involved in the retail automotive industry. As a result, instead of having to travel millions of miles through boundless space to visit the Red Planet Mars, I need only drive three short miles to my workplace on terra firma to experience routine encounters of the third kind with Martians who visit my colleagues and me on a routine basis.

Before you dismiss me outright as a Discovery Channel-watching, UFO-believing whack job, please extend me the courtesy of reading this blog entry in its totality. Then, perhaps you will understand how best to win over your own customers from Mars. Because, yes, they are among us. They are watching you and me. They are in our showrooms now. They are everywhere. They are all around us. On Earth.

One would think that well educated, inherently logical Martians, forced to live in an extremely cold, hostile climate back at home, would relish tanning on beaches at Cancun, Key West, Miami or Padre Island during business or holiday jaunts to the Planet Earth. However, for some paradoxical reason, Martians are drawn instead to Earth's automotive dealership showrooms just as hungry canines are drawn to raw meat.

What to do? Hey, Martians are customers, too, and they deserve nothing less than first class treatment. Here's how to make that happen. There's no need to run down to Wal-Mart to buy expensive force fields or Star Trek phasers. Winning over recalcitrant Martians to become customers for life merely requires knowledge of their culture and style and then implementation of appropriate, progressive business practices as outlined below.

Most Martians tend to be brusque and domineering when entering a showroom. Having a limited command of the English language, they will usually either issue a terse imperative command in a loud tone of voice or they will ask a demanding question, also in the same loud tone of voice. (Martians are not known for winning "Miss Manners" competitions.)

Due to an inexplicable fear of chairs, Martians will usually refuse to sit down. Do not, under any circumstances, play the Dovells' oldies hit "You Can't Sit Down!" on your dealership's music system during a Martian "meet and greet", or you will have a World Cup soccer riot on your hands. Most standing Martians love the 2004 smash hip hop hit "Lean Back" (by Fat Joe and Remy Ma) and will, in fact, lean back, while folding their arms across their chests and hiding their hands under their armpits in a classic Martian posture of initial defensiveness.

Below I have outlined a series of "meet and greet" conversations between a Martian-knowledgeable sales professional and a fresh Martian customer who has just burst through a showroom door. As you read these conversations, remember these key elements that are necessary to win over Martian customers:

- Concur (agree to the extent possible with the Martian's initial utterance)

- Confound with courtesy (use a combination of a non-traditional reply and a courteous delivery to cause the Martian to hesitate and to cease his combative posture)

- Remain silent, do not laugh and smile sincerely (let the Martian absorb fully what has been said by both parties and then let the Martian reply accordingly)

- Re-engage and redirect (restart the conversation at a lower level of intensity and point the Martian in a more positive direction)

Review the word tracks below, tweak them as needed to fit your dealership's culture, and consider putting them to good use. Remember, in the stress of the "meet and greet" moment, that every Martian needs adequate personal transportation. Also, remember that some fellow Earthlings, deceitful professionals to the core, will "act up" and pretend to be Martians in an attempt to get a better deal on the vehicle of their choice.

SCENARIO ONE:

Martian (shouting as he enters showroom): "All I want is a number on my car!"

Sales Consultant: "That's fantastic, Sir. My name is Edward. You must be coming in on the NASCAR special. You're the tenth person today. While we prefer to have our service department handle such customizing, as sales professionals, we will be delighted to help you. We will just need to know the name and number of your favorite NASCAR driver and where you want his number emplaced on your car. On which door? On which window? I will go get the decals, paint and stencils. Our work is 100% guaranteed, service will make it right if you are not satisfied with the quality of our installation. I promise."

SCENARIO TWO:

Martian (shouting as he enters showroom): "All I want is the best price on that one!"

Sales Consultant: "That's great news, Sir. My name is Ellen. Thank so much for asking us for the best price right up front. You are one in a thousand. You must surely be a successful businessman. Your asking us for the best price allows us to allocate sufficient funds internally to always offer you, our valued customer, the first class sales, service and parts experience that you demand and expect, every time you visit us. Most consumers and customers are not as educated about smart business practices as you are. Such well meaning people often confuse "the best price" with "the lowest price" and think that "the best price" is "the lowest price." They are all really nice people, but they do not possess your "street smarts" about how to run a business in a progressive manner that insures total customer satisfaction. Where did you learn to ask (so wisely) for "the best price?" What type of profitable business do you own and run? I really enjoying meeting and working with savvy consumers just like you."

SCENARIO THREE:

Martian (shouting as he hears his trade appraisal value): "My trade is worth $3,000 more than that!"

Sales Consultant: "I feel exactly the same way about my truck! Just as you feel that your car is worth $3,000 more than its current real market value, my truck has an "emotional value" to me that far exceeds its current real market value. My truck means so much more to me than to some anonymous wholesaler. Accordingly, when I trade it in, I understand that I am going to have to cover the cost of the emotional value, in other words, the monetary difference between what the truck means to me and what it means to a dispassionate auctioneer. My truck is easily worth $3,000 extra to me and to me alone because of where it has taken me in my life. I will admit I have an emotional connection to my truck, just as you have an emotional connection to your own car. I understand totally how you feel. We are alike in that regard. Now, how do you want to handle the indicated "emotional value" difference amount on your car, with cash or through financing?

In summary, Martians, despite their oftentimes disquieting demeanor, always come to automotive dealership showrooms bearing gifts. The gifts borne are in the form of the words that come out of their mouths. Every time a Martian speaks to a sales consultant or to a sales manager, the specific words spoken initially to the dealership employee provide an opportunity for the sales professional to effect a gradual transition to a conversational point where even the most hard core Red Planet resident will smile and say: "Fear not, Earthling, we come in peace, we are buying today, we will be returning often for service, we will refer all of our friends from Neptune, Uranus and Pluto to you, and we will max you out on dealerrater.com!"

P.S. Here's a final word to the wise: if a Martian customer refers to "Internet pricing", that customer definitely is an Earthling pretending to be a Martian to get the lowest possible price point and a free warranty. True Martians regard the Internet as an outmoded means of communication used only by barbaric, primitive people. How do I know this? A Martian customer told me.

Christopher Ferris   c 603.233.8759   ferriscc@comcast.net

 www.drivingsales.com/blog/chrisferris