Running a Business Like a Business

It was 70 degrees and Sunnny yesterday, so Randall Nathan, who all winter has walked at The Fruitdale Mall or at The OMCA, took a walk yesterday for the first time in ABHOR Park. The park has been there for about 60 years, and he has walked there many times, but the Memphjus town council just last week sold the naming rights to the park to "Abestos Bargains and Harvestime Orthopedic Rectifiers."

Randall Nathan thinks that ABHOR Park is privitization run amok, or run abhorent. He dropped by "Greenberg Studebaker & Desoto Sales and Service" to chat about it with his old friend, Herschel Greenberg.

"There's this myth going around, almost considered biblical anymore," said Herschel, "that privitization is the answer to anything and everything. Everything should be run more like a business. I say, which business? Enron? General Motors? Citi Bank? You know what should be run more like a business? Business! Churches should be run more like church. Schools should be run more like school. Governments should be run more like government. Hospitals should be run more like hospital."

"You sound like Plato and his theory of Ideals," said Randall.

"I didn't know Mickey Mouse's dog was a philosopher, but if you say so," said Herschel. "You know what people want?"

"Everything for nothing?" guessed Randall.

"You've got it," said Herschel. "Everybody wants the benefits of church and school and government and health care, but nobody wants to pay for them. They think that somehow if we just privatize it, it will pay for itself. You know what happens when you privatize?"

"I think so," said Randall, "but tell me anyway."

"What happens is, you not only have to pay for the service, but you have to pay for the privateers to make a profit and get their billion dollar bonuses. Privitization costs twice as much. You know why I'm the only Studebaker and Desoto dealer left in the whole world?"

"No, I really don't know that," said Randall Nathan.

"It's not because I was smarter than the other dealers. There were lots smarter than me. They were more efficient, better managers, better salesmen. Except I was smarter in one way: I married Blackwell Blufield's daughter. When times got tough financially, Blackie put more of his millions into this business so he wouldn't have to admit to his friends at the country club that his daughter married a schmuck. Those guys who were smarter business-wise, they married for love, so when bad times came, they went out of business."

"That doesn't exactly explain the Desotos and Studebakers," said Randall.

"What explains them," said Herschel, "is, I decided to run my business the old-fashioned way, where you don't treat a customer like a dollar sign but like a friend. My friends loved Desotos and Studebakers. They didn't want to drive anything else. So I built up my inventory. I rented every garage in the state big enough for a Desoto or a Studebaker, so I'd always have them for my customers, so I could take care of my friends. That's the way you run a business more like a business. Unfortunately, they're all dead now."

"But you are still selling cars," said Randall.

"Oh, yeah, You know who buys them now? The children of Wall Street bankers and insurance company executives. They're too rich to work and they have more money than they know what to do with and they think old cars are a hoot. You know what a new Desoto or Studebaker sells for these days?"

"I'm afraid to ask," said Randall.

"That's right, if you have to ask, you can't afford it," said Herschel Greenberg. "I'm too big to fail."