the high cost of low prices

After succumbing to cabin fever and five straight days of rain, all the batteries were charged, and all the bikes in the garage polished.  I had caught up on all my mail, and was left only with Craigslist and the motorcycles for sale ads.  Seems prices go down for them on rainy days, and this one day was no different, as the prices seemed too low, but we know that drill all too well.  I had been eyeing Kawasaki’s new Z900RS for awhile, but the high price, at least to me kept me in the Triumph stable.  I had even at one time considered trading my Tiger 1050 against one, but came to my senses when I realized what a step down it would be.  But still the lure was there, it would only take the right bait.  As in price....

Now a bike with an MSRP of $11,199, plus freight and set up ends up well over $12,000 before taxes.  So the $8995 ad price got my attention, and responding via email, heard back quickly from the general sales manager.  To me the deal is your price, you advertised it, plus tax and license, about 10% of sale price.  And my fantasy world was shaken, $1590 added dealer margin or profit, plus $280 to register, thanks California, and 9.5% sales tax, it is only 7.75 where I live.  Quick math told me it was not a good deal, he was adding more in ADM than discounted from retail, and his tax number were high, in his favor.  Listed on some contracts as government fees, you decide.  When I cornered him on his specious pricing, he countered with his cost, before hold backs of $10,379, plus tax and license.  Before I could question why did you try to low ball and add on the fees, he explained “if we do not advertise low prices we never get any calls.”  So much for the buyer beware.  And so I passed.  Just how far have we fallen from telling the truth?  Just to sell a motorcycle......

When I bought my 2017 Bonneville T120, Art the owner sold it to me at cost, less his holdback money, he offered I cut him off, I want him to make something to stay in business.  So I got out the door with all tax and license for less than the MSRP, and I was happy.  Sadly talking with Nate, a guy who works in service for a multi line dealer, he had just bought a Z125, the Grom of Kawasaki.  MSRP of $3195, discounted to $1995, the ADM of $1500, he paid more than retail, and that was his employee discount!  Am I stoned or just stupid, or was he?  My daughter in law works for KTM and got my son a new 2019 250 for $33% off retail, her price.  Mickey tells me the same deal from Triumph, but with a hassle.  Both with no added dealer mark up! So it can be done.  But unlike Nate, I am not willing to pay too much, nor be suckered by a low ball price.  The Z900RS deal fell through because I still felt ripped off, just tell me the truth, you may get less phone calls, but more word of mouth and more sales. I see dealer invoices, Harley dealers make 25% before adding ADM, and all the chrome and leather is added on, while some Japanese bikes make only $300, on a $5000 bike.  It used to be getting a free $50 helmet sealed the deal, so many of us still ride what is in our garage.  And with no advertised low prices, I find more time to ride, that is why you bought you bike isn’t it?  Well, isn’t it?

Two men were in the chapel praying, one rich and famous, the other poor and destitute.  The rich man praying out loud “thank God I am not like that poor man,” his pride bubbling up inside, for in his mind he was better, maybe the best.  With no money issues, he felt comfortable and secure about his next meal, or his next BMW.  He had tax people, and others to take care of his worries, he thought he had it made, discounting the fact of his pride, and how it was a stumbling block to him and Jesus.  He bragged on himself, not on what God had done in his life, as if he had all the right answers, and the poor man didn’t.  Failing to know one key fact, both rich and poor come to God the same way.  The poor man was humbled, the rich man would need to be humiliated.  Jesus tells us to be satisfied with what we have, both men here approached it from different perspectives.  One was concerned where his next meal was coming from, the other which restaurant he would have it in.  How it would taste.  One was wondering how he would get there, the other which car would he drive.  Affluence had become a hindrance, and a stumbling block between him and God.  His riches had transferred his concern from the necessary things to secondary things.  His affluence had become a stumbling block, as he was now unteachable, knowing it all, he had made it, he should be the teacher!  His life of affluence had become one of comfort, and it now would take greater things to comfort him.  All external, things to be seen, and for others to desire.  And then there is the other guy, the poor man....

In his humility he forced himself to spend time with God, to seek his spirit to be comforted, and was satisfied with what he had.  It is not a sin to want nice things, but many times a price higher than we expect is paid, and not in dollars.  In humility he asked God, not by bragging, but by testifying to God’s greatness, and his provisions.  With one great difference, one admitted he was a sinner, the other didn’t.  Pride will keep us from God, he became owned by the attitude of things rather than the one who provided them.  But both still need Jesus to enter heaven, and repentance is the first step.  There is no other way.....

So for many years in business and personal, I lived by the definition of a good deal, where both parties benefit.  No low balling to get me in, you set the price, then I say yes or no.  Only in Christ do we see how fair salvation is, for it costs nothing out of pocket.  It cannot be bought, rented, leased, or borrowed against.  It is the same for all, confess Jesus as Lord and savior, repent, and confess him with you mouth, live a changed life in him.  No low ball salvation just to get them in, although I have heard some lies just to get people to church, or sadder yet, to the altar.  God is not the genie in the lamp so many profess him to be, and things tend to get worse after salvation because you see sin and how dirty it is.  But he is always with us, everlasting.  With no ADM for becoming a Christian.  If only buying a new bike was so easy...

Rich or poor, only Jesus saves.  And at today’s prices, it still remains a miracle.  While some boast in men, I choose to boast in Jesus.  No small print, only small faith.  No false promises, only the truth.  Just tell me the price, let me decide.  Sadly selling motorcycles is not like salvation, just be glad it is not the other way around.    Jesus paid it all, what part of free don’t you understand?

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com

when pickups used to be trucks

 My earliest recollection of vehicles wasn’t cars but trucks.  I can remember blue and white 1959 Ford F100’s used by the local mason, and grey and white ones used by the carpenters, thinking this was how to identify them.  And my first audible of the Ford Y-block, later brought to life in my 1949 F-3, with its trans planted T-Bird motor.  And its clever venting of oil directly under it.  Big Dodges carrying oil to customers, Mr. Howarth’s Dodge, then Chevy dump trucks plowing the streets.  Trucks meant men and we all wanted to grow up to be a man.  How many highways and subdivisions were built by us using Tonka trucks, we used to flood our gutter and build dams hauling dirt and rock in them.  Just like the big guys did.  When it came time to dig sewers, the back hoes were hauled by one ton flat beds, followed by more dump trucks.  Trucks that hauled dirt, gravel, asphalt,and then plowed the snow.  My world was all about trucks...and still is today.

Remember the first time you saw Duel, where the Peterbilt tank truck chased the Plymouth across the desert?  I actually saw the truck at a truck show years ago, better than Disneyland.  And no lines.  A guy I knew had a B Model Mack dump truck, what trucks should look like, with a five and a four shifter.  What a joy as I watched him going through the gears, all 20 of them.  Watching logging trucks going faster than sanity allowed, and passing us on curves-on our motorcycles.  The open canopy truck with the butchers bell telling us he was in the neighborhood.  Good Humor trucks, not cars.  Route 22 filled with semis on their way to New York City, creeping down Jugtown Mountain, we didn’t understand why they went so slow....I remember taking my commercial drivers license test after delivering to Mesa Verde.  In the snow, the instructor telling me if I could do that, that was test enough, and passed me.  And today, the trucks all bikers must have when their rides need to go to the hospital, aka shop.  We all have one now, and Ford bragging on how 75% of its sales are trucks, is fazing out all cars except the Mustang.  At one time it was cool to drive a truck, now any soccer mom under the influence of cell phones and kids can drive one.  Maybe a signal of just how far society has really fallen...

But as cool as trucks used to be, there was also a certain stigma attached to the owners.  Farmers, construction workers, and other blue collar types drove them, they were work trucks, a step down to the flashy car crowd.  No one ever wanted to go the prom in a pickup truck, but offer a limo...and the deal was sealed.  Trucks were rough riding, they worked, sometimes until almost dead, than thrown away and resurrected again by its next user.  Our first truck, a 1949 Ford F-3, a one ton, was used to carry firewood in Colorado.  Big 21 leaf springs on each side.  Then a work truck, now a collectible, as cars have gotten out of reach of the working class, motorcycles still too strange for some to collect, so trucks it is.  With 1948-1955 Chevy trucks going for over $50,000.  Resurrected so the original owner would never know them, too pretty to work, too rough to drive.  So they sit in heated garages, with girly men telling about how tough they and their trucks are.  Just don’t lean against one or you might scratch it...we have come a long way for when pickups used to be trucks, and all us kids played with them, in our dreams wanting to drive one someday.  While some dreamt of being president, some of us dreamt of building roads and highways.  Houses and cities.  Real men in real trucks...with the kidneys to prove it.

We are told in scripture that unless God builds the church we labor in vain.  Ever heard that one when they are begging for money for their building project?  Yet so much time, so many meetings, and so much energy is spent deciding how to grow the church.  I know, I have sat through the meetings, and while some plan, they expect others to do their dirty work.  To get out and do the real work, while they sit back, and watch.  And if the plan fails, it is never their fault.  It has been said “Man plans and God laughs,” you all have your own examples.  But I have found that when God plans, we get to laugh, with joy.  His idea of building a church is different, requires no funding, and has no walls, denominational or other.  Raised in a generation where evangelism is inviting someone to church, we don’t want to mix with the lesser ones, an invite to church will make some faint, and even asking makes them think they are evangelists.  But I have this strange philosophy, based on the word of God, if we just do what the spirit asks of us, that is all we need to do.  And the church will grow, and instead of meetings, planning boards, mortgages, and complaining, we get to see God in action, and be part of it.  But like too many today that think manhood is found in an F150, just looking the part, not being the part is what counts.  What your friends at church think of you more important than your standing with God.  Talking about God, never mentioning Jesus.  Don’t want to upset anyone with the gospel.....

Years ago I was active in a national motorcycle ministry, until I read their bylaws.  Which said I had to tithe to them.  Wrong, that’s not giving.  But what opened my eyes was they advised to not have communion, lest you offend someone.  So much for the do this in remembrance of me crowd, and I chose God over them.  You see when man plans God does laugh, but he cries also.  When Jesus wept it wasn’t because Lazarus had died, it was much deeper than that, they had missed the gospel message of resurrection.  Without resurrection you may as well be a cultist.  Only Jesus backed up his words by raising from the dead!  So be careful of how you evangelize, or the club you join.  There was a time when trucks and cars were different and we could tell the difference, today many Christian reactions are no different than those of an atheist.  Is your Jesus sticker the only way we know you are a Christian?  There was a time when we could tell without being told.

So I keep my religion as simple as my truck, six cylinder, rubber floor mats, and roll up windows.  OK, and auto with air.  But I keep my religion simple and all about Jesus.  No substitutes, no pastor or teachers to follow, living by the spirit and living life to the fullest.  Led by the spirit.  Living a life in remembrance of him, and doing it openly.  Using words when needed, for the actions of Christ are remembered long after your memorization of verses fails.  It is not how much you know, but who you know.  Can you say you know Jesus as Lord? 

Maybe it is ironic that the closer the Bible gets to the last book, Revelation, the more it warns of false or fake teachers.  Lazy and safe Christians, an attitude of the Pharisees, and how many will fall away.  Having tasted but never dined on the spirit.  With one suggestion about trucks.  I still love cars and motorcycles, but when broken down, who do I call?  Who answers and hauls me to the dealer?  Jesus and trucks, they should never change, but we should.  In remembrance of him.  What do you remember?  And we should have seen it coming....

love with compassion,

Mike

mattehw25biker.blogspot.com

leave the nail in the tire

Being stuck on the side of the road today means taking out your cell phone and pushing the AAA app.  But at one time it meant getting creative, just creative enough to get the car home, and then do the repairs.  But in today’s world of Millenials who either don’t own or cannot afford a car, they adapt their non-thinking problem solving processes to cars as well as life.  But once upon a time it was different...

Back when dating and girls wore panty hose, one night a belt broke on my BMW, and risked facing her father or a blown engine.  Engines can be rebuilt.  But I asked her to give me her panty hose, secured them tightly as a belt, toped off the coolant with creek water, and we made it home, just in time.  And no, she didn’t want them back.  Another radiator leak almost left us stranded at 10,000 feet, until one guy suggested pouring pepper into the radiator.  We were eating our picnic lunch, and sure enough, it was enough to plug the hole until we got home.  Overheating on a 100 degree day at the Great Adventure stuck in traffic, windows down, heater on full, and the gauge dipped.  But maybe the best is from Don the crew chief at Simon and Simon Racing, who built a relief valve into the truck’s cooling system, and was able to burp it and get back on course.  So while help may not be on the way, it may already be there. 

I once blew out a freeze plug on my 1949 Ford F-3 pickup, stopping at every farm between Bayfield and Durango and pouring water into the radiator, made it safe.  Then sold the truck an hour later after replacing the plug.  How many gapped the points using a match book cover when you got a misfire?  How many know what a matchbook is?  The other day I cut my hand using a knife designed to cut things other than flesh.  Some quick grease in the wound stopped the bleeding instantly, some Scotch tape and gauze a working bandage.  My first Coke delivery truck, a step van, broke the throttle cable.  The quick fix, run mechanic’s wire from carb linkage to pedal after removing engine cover.  Hot and noisy, it worked.  How many of you real bike riders ever broke a clutch cable?  Did you panic as one guy did, or were you able to get home without it, timing lights and shifting using the rpm’s?  I rescued a guy on a Sportster once and lending him my Bonneville, still beat him home.  He was afraid to go fast.  At least he knew his bikes.  Amazing what a pressure situation can do with a creative mind....

These things may describe the life of a Christian better than we would like to think.  So often it is easier to complain, cuss, complain and cuss together, then ask God for help, called prayer.  Which is the only time too many speak to God, note I didn’t say with him.  And we have all been there, it is the return trips that hurt the worst.  Maybe the first thing is to not panic in a panic situation, but also to learn from the stories of Jesus.  No food, take the two fish and five loaves you have and let him distribute them.  No salve for the blind eyes, dirt and spit will do just fine.  Can’t get to the Bible study for healing, cut a hole in the roof.  At the well and thirsty, admit what God knows of your sin and leave thirsting no more. Being chased and facing a great sea, watch as God parts it and then swallows up your pursuers. No money for tax, grab a fish and take the coin from its mouth.  No more wine, fill the cisterns with water, and bypass the fermentation, drink of a holy spiritual wine from above.  Stuck outside and a huge rock between you and Jesus?  Watch as an angel picks it up and throws it away....just things that occurred daily in the life of the disciples and Jesus.  Yet they too fretted, giving you your out and excuse, “well they saw Jesus and panicked, I guess it’s OK I do,” neglecting to know we have the same spirit available to us that they did, the holy spirit.  The comforter, counselor, provider, and friend in times of need.  No app for him...

Because he is already with us.  We need to pray outside the box as well as think outside it.  When stupidity left me with a broken foot peg 3000 miles from home, a stop in a Honda service department had me one in no time.  Going through the trash we found handlebars, cut them to length, put a grip over them, and held them in place where the old foot peg was with a set screw.  Made it home, still have the home made peg to show for it.  Or the time Brett his broke brake rod on his Nighthawk, none his size in stock at the Honda dealer, so we made one his length out of two shorter one, painted it black for affect, and off we went.  Or the time Jeff lost his master link on the 4th of July, one quick tack with a welder and his chain was a one piece chain.  God will find a way where there seems to be no way....Jesus Christ, the way!  The best friend on the road or on the side of it. With one last bit of advice, Gatorade works as antifreeze in a pinch, but don’t drink from the wrong bottle.  Both may be green! And taste sweet.  And all miracles done without duct tape!

With one bit of advice, see the nail in your tire.  Leave it there, it may be holding the air in.  Do not remove it, not important why or how I know.....

love with compassion,

Mike

matthew25biker.blogspot.com