My Beast Of Burden

A young man contacted me via email yesterday. He had stumbled upon the blog and was considering a job selling at a local Ford dealership. He told me that he was determined to read the entire contents of “Confessions of a Car Man” before he started his new career.

I was extremely flattered by his email and offered to help him in any way I can. I gave him a little insight into what to expect at his new job and gave a couple of pieces of advice. All well and good. But when I went to bed that night I found myself starring at the ceiling wondering if I had done the right thing.

“Confessions of a Car Man” was conceived as a kind of catharsis for me. It is my way of setting down “on paper” my memories, observations and frustrations. It was not in any way meant to be some sort of training manual for selling cars. To be honest I don’t feel qualified to give advice. The best thing you can say about me is that I have a great power of observation and a wicked sense of humor.

But there I was lying in bed thinking about the power of words. I was wondering if the young man reads the blog from beginning to end, all 84,000 words of it, will he come away with knowledge that will help him, or will I kill the enthusiasm he will need to make it in this business before he even has a chance?

This all comes at a time when I’ve been mentally coming up with a plan to turn the blog into a book. My angle is simple: you’ve never read a book about being a car salesman like this one! As the blog’s banner says, “The only pro car salesman blog on the planet!” I envision a book that is pro salesman, completely original in concept, completely irreverent in execution--and more than likely completely unsellable!

I like writing this blog. In a time when our business is in great peril, it gives me my own little corner of the world that I can control. I have always considered it as entertainment. I don’t know how I feel about someone actually taking it seriously. And I would feel really bad if my writing damaged or hurt anyone (except for The Others, of course) or caused them to make a wrong decision—like selling Fords for example.

Oh, well. What’s done is done. I can’t change the blog, I couldn’t bear to delete it even if I wanted to, and will continue to write it compulsively until I either run out of words or keel over dead after yelling at an Indian on the lot.

It’s my beast of burden.

Talk to you later,


David