In My Humble Opinion

How did Mike swing a week on the salesroom floor at age 15?

 Well that’s another year in the bin – along with the turkey carcas, wrapping paper and empty tins of mixed chocolates. But what a year 2019 was. Over the festive season I’ve been doing my fair share of reflection and deep thought. Writing this page really does give me great satisfaction and enjoyment, and if it gives you a fraction of the glee it gives me then as far as bunnies go – I’m a happy one.

I still pinch myself every month to see my tired looking mug on this very page I once used to devour back in the late Ted Conolly era. I never really seek fame or fortune through writing about motor related topics, but I do get stopped and quizzed now and again by readers and the public about how I remember such daft stuff. My problem is having a photographic memory that also works in audio format too. When you read ‘the words what I wrote’ (my tribute to Ernie Wise) I can hear the old conversations or see historic events unfolding in my mind’s eye in almost 1080HD clarity as if it was this morning.

At the recent Lancaster Insurance Classic Car Show, I was ‘nobbled’ by a CM reader while covering events for a sister publication. I stopped to chat after being hit with the old “it is you isn’t it?” opening gambit. The man in question, a Mr Richards of somewhere in Staffordshire, proceeded to pour praise on this page and the magazine itself in general – and rightly so in the case of latter. He then hit me with a question I had never been asked before. I was asked if any one person inspired me to dive into the motor trade headfirst.

Oddly enough, the motor trade wasn’t my first choice in life. After failing an exam to join British Rail as a traction fitter apprentice due to undiagnosed mild colour-blindness, the motor trade was my second. When it comes to pointing the finger at any one person it somehow gets a bit difficult. I could mention a former headmaster and petrolhead – the late Frank Knight or my motor vehicle engineering and Craft Design teachers Mr David Maccann and Clive Beecham for starters.

As a youngster, I knew many a car salesman from my hobby of wandering all over the county collecting car brochures. There was John Armitage at Croxdale Citroën, Ian Sale at Mill Honda, Malcom Longstaff at Mill Audivolkswagen, Roger Chinnery at Cleales Ford – too many to mention in fact. Yet all the suited men had one common thing – they treated me with respect and quenched my thirst for knowledge rather than sending me out of the showroom door a few inches ahead of a wellpolished Oxford brogue. What is special is the fact I still know some of them and my former Citroën acquaintance is now a loyal and trusted friend.

There is one person who I can point the finger of blame to; his name is Alasdair Macchonachie OBE DL.

Now in his 70s but still in the game, Alasdair ran a small chain of Vauxhall dealerships in the North East. There are only two men who spring to the public’s mind when it comes to cars ‘up north’ – Sir Peter Vardy and Alasdair. I have known the latter since I was a child brochure hunter, but things went up a notch when it came to my work experience at school.

Because I took both CDT and Motor Vehicle Engineering in my exam options, my school careers dept had arranged work experience at his dealership, Sherwoods of Darlington, working for a week in either the parts department or workshop. Even aged 15 I wasn’t backwards in coming forwards and owing to the fact I knew most of his new and used car salesmen, I fancied the opportunity of doing my week in the showrooms. I had mooted this idea to the man himself who said it wasn’t a problem with him providing my school was OK. Speaking to the careers officer a few days later, I was sent off with a flea in my ear saying it had all been arranged and she couldn’t possibly bother Mr Macchonachie over my request.

The following Saturday morning, I wandered into the showroom. He always worked five and a half days a week, and he spotted me and beckoned me into his office. Telling him about the careers officer dismissing my request, he looked at me in deep thought. “So what would you like me to do?” he boomed. Cutting a long story short, I walked out of the premises with a typed letter on company paper signed personally with this fountain pen stating young Mike could join his team in the showroom for a week. To this day, over thirty-five years later, he still addresses me as ‘young Mike’ or ‘young man’.

Arriving back in school the following Monday, I found the careers lady at lunchtime where I asked once again if something could be done for me. Once again, she rather bluntly said in so many words to sod off, adding “It must be by special arrangement only, and everything’s been finalised”. With that I reached into my rear trouser pocket and handed her the envelope, saying “don’t worry Miss, it’s been specially arranged,” and I walked off. Her face was a picture, aghast with anger, but my physics teacher Mr Thomas who was in earshot of all this seemed suitably impressed as he subtly winked his approval at me.

My week in the showroom was brilliant. I learned about the way to charm the customers, overcome sticky situations and one very important thing – do your dealings with fairness and courtesy.

You see, that was the key attribute of Alasdair: he was, and still is, a fairdealing, straight-talking person. I would like to think it’s that which has stayed with me through all my working life.

Thanks Alasdair!

‘Oddly enough, the motor trade wasn’t my first choice in life. After failing an exam to join British Rail as a traction fitter apprentice due to undiagnosed mild colour-blindness, the motor trade was my second.’