I never got a chance to say goodbye to Ron Showalter. On the day of his funeral, I was attending another one. My mother. Being a natural born ham (I have the gift of gab, my mother used to tell me.), I would have loved to have spoken of my affection for a man who is still bright in my memory two years after his death.
Ron and I sold Chevrolets at the same dealership. When I went to work there, I was a wreck. I had recently undergone a complete economic meltdown, and I was literally hanging on to my sanity by the tips of my fingers. On that first day this is how Ron greeted me: He left a message on my desk. It was a telephone number and a name: Dr. Wang. Call him immediately. I dialed the number. It was a doctor all right, a doctor that specialized in penis enlargements.
Ron was in his late fifties at time. The same age I am now. Apparently he had spent a large portion of the first part of his life being a drunk. As he told me, he had pretty much made a mess of things. But when I met him, he’d been sober for many years, and he had totally redeemed himself. Everyone Ron met, from fellow salesman, to customers, to friends he had helped out countless times, loved him. And I grew to love the man too.
Ron was funny and compassionate. If you needed advice or someone just to listen, he was always there. He was a voice of reason in a profession filled with craziness. Many a time I called on him to hear my woes. Each time he stopped his busy day to lend me his ear.
Ron had many sayings. God, I wish I had written them all down! We worked near a college town, a hot bed of obnoxious liberals. Whenever he encountered one he would ask them, “Let me ask you something. Do your friends know you are on a domestic lot?”
There was a Toyota dealership down the street. Every once in a while, someone waiting for their car to be serviced would wander in. Many were real smart asses, so sure of the superiority of a Toyota over a Chevy--as if we gave a rat’s ass. When Ron would run into them, he would look at them with total sincerity and ask, “Why do they have service departments at Toyota dealerships? I understand they never breakdown.” He said this with such deadpan innocence; I don’t think they even realized they’d been insulted.
There was a manager that occasionally worked on the weekends. (This was before I worked there.) A very conservative man, I guess. When Ron would come to work and see him, he’d turn to the guys and say, “The bakery’s closed, boys. No rolls today!”
Ron would sing this little ditty to the tune of the Nat King Cole song, “Unforgettable”
“Unfinanceable, that’s what you are…”
Me being the smart ass I am made up the rest.
“Unfinanceable, no freaking car…
You may want a new Chevrolet,
But you won’t be taking one home today,
Unfinanceable you.”
Ron got a great kick out of that.
Another Ron Showalter saying was, “The guy must be drinking his own bath water!”
And my all-time favorite: “No dinero, no Camaro!”
Late in his life Ron met a wonderful woman named Linda. He’d been single for many years and was more than a little skittish about entering a relationship. But he fell in love and married her. They were together all the way to the end. They were wonderful together!
Ron died young—in his mid-60s. His death was a tragedy for anyone whose life he touched, a great loss to the car business, and those who toil in it every day to make a living.
So Ron, I never got to speak at your funeral. I never got a chance at a proper good-bye. But I want you to know that I will never forget your friendship. If there ever was a certified car man, an example to us all, it was you, the late, great, Ron Showalter.
Talk to you later,
David
No comments:
Post a Comment