From Bulldog:
You’ve got to admire auto dealers’ absence of shame. These guys will say or do anything, with no conscience or remorse. You’ve seen the idiots on the Asheville Dodge infomercial, complete with a guy dressed as a clown, altho it’s difficult to tell which one is the bigger clown even without the big red nose and the floppy shoes.
By contrast, there’s smooth and sincere Jim Barkley, who “thanks you for listening” to his low-pressure pitches on television. Ol’ Jim’s proud of the fact that “You’ll never see a full-page ad or an advertising circular” for Jim Barkley Toyota because, according to Jimbo, those ads “cost you, the customer, money.” I, for one, appreciate Jimbo looking out for me and saving me money because he doesn’t spend ad dollars on those expensive newspaper pages.
Of course, my old friend Bubba kinda wonders how Jimbo’s able to get all those 30-second TV spots on WLOS for free. I guess we just don’t understand TV advertising.
I don’t know about you, Bulldog, but I always get caught up watching that Saturday morning Asheville Dodge infomercial. It’s mesmerizing.
Rhett Blanachard and his sidekick Hollywood have created these personas that are classically “used car salesman,” updated with a little 21st century bling. They have their inside jokes, their schtick.
Ah, yes. The patter. The jargon. I’m enthralled by the lyrical way it rolls off their tongues and the musicality of it. Some samples:
“When gas prices go up, our prices go down. We’ve got the SSts, the RTs, the ECs. There’s the Rancho shock suspension. We’re talking quad cab diesel longbed.”
Then slam – they pound the side of the car, and the driver moves off, making way for the next in a long line of featured vehicles.
“The LX. Rear air, dual doors. We’ve got the Credit King here to do a little credit repair, and me and Hollywood and the Green Genie will fix you up. It’s ridiculous. Tires for life. This weekend is a credit clinic weekend. If you work, you drive.”
On and on they go. I was actually so enthralled that I drove over and looked at a truck. Now, unhappily, I am on their mailing list.