I'm Not Ready For A Mini-Van!

Any salesman who sells SUVs for a living has run into people, usually women, whose reasons for buying the behemoth are suspect. Not that this is any of our business. Our job is to sell them the sled. But sometimes in the course of helping people, you realize that the SUV is not going to work deal-wise. The people tell you they have a grand down and only want to pay $400 per month. This does not compute on a $50,000 Suburban.

When faced with the possibility of losing a sale, a salesman thinks in terms of alternatives. You’ve already tried to show them a more affordable used Suburban so you might have a chance at making a decent commission, but they won’t bite. “We want a new one!” the wife whines. You then go to Plan B and suggest a new mini-van. It’s perfect for their needs.

The wife looks at you with horror. “I’m not ready for a mini-van!” she says adamantly.

You shake your head. She’s got three kids and one in the oven, and she’s not ready for a mini-van? If not now, when? She’s not going to tow anything; she never goes four wheel driving. What the hell does she need a Suburban for?

“I want to sit up high,” she tells you.

You want to spend $700 per month so that you can sit up high? Are you freaking crazy?

Why this obsession with SUV’s? I’ve done some serious thinking about it, and here is what I figured out. Back in 1984, I was selling Plymouths. When the Plymouth Voyager hit the market it, along with its counterpart the Dodge Caravan, they were the hottest things going. Young mother’s came in droves dragging their reluctant husbands behind them in frenzy to purchase the perfect solution for their growing family. They were the SUV’s of their day, and from the moment the mini-van was introduced, you couldn’t sell a traditional station wagon to save your life.

These women had grown up in the 60’s and 70’s with mothers who drove Ford Country Squire Wagons. They associated the act of driving a station wagon as a sign of fading youth. They didn’t want a wagon because their mother’s drove wagons. They wanted one of those oh-so-cute mini-vans—with the fake wood paneling on the side.

Just like mom’s Country Squire.

So, the next generation of woman grew up with mothers who drove mini-vans, and when these women grew up they sure as hell weren’t going to buy a mini-van. Hell no! They didn’t want to be like their mothers. Hence the spectacularly idiotic run of SUV sales in the late 90’s and early 2000’s until the fad finally hit the brick wall of high gas prices.

(Ironically, if you look at the configuration of a two-wheel-drive Chevy Suburban what do you have? A V8 rear-wheel-drive---station wagon; the same set up as grandma’s Country Squire!)

I have a firm belief that most of the people you sell cars and trucks to are (How do I say this politely?)—stupid. It’s great when you can use this stupidity to your advantage, but sometimes you can’t. Reason is something they don’t want to listen to. They want to sit up high! So what do you do? Slam them into that Suburban.

What do you care if they can’t make that $700 payment?



Talk to you later,



David