Back at the beginning

“He was building a computer system that would assist technicians in diagnosing cars,” explains Parker. “It was a good idea, but about 10 years too late; it mainly worked off of oxygen sensor information, which was phased out for wideband O2s that operates completely differently.”

With the project cancelled and Parker having trained another friend to be his replacement at J&L, he felt honor bound to go elsewhere. “I worked at a couple of other shops, one of which I learned what not to do,” he notes. “Then I went to work for NAPA as a sales rep with wholesale accounts, calling on shops like I used to run. I learned a lot about the industry and about how different shops did things.

“Then my father called me up and asked to meet me at the Waffle House for coffee” Parker recalls. “I knew exactly what he wanted, and that’s not a conversation he’d normally have; he’s pretty much an old school type of guy. He asked me to come back, and that was 4 or 5 years ago.”

By then Parker was capable of being both technician and manager. “I’ve always been somewhat hands-on,” he points out. “I enjoy classic cars; my wife has a ’63 T-Bird, a ’69 fastback Mustang, I’ve got a ’47 Plymouth. Although I’ve never been a flat-rate technician, I’ve always done it, just filling in gaps at the shop or doing it on my own.”

Some of those gaps include working on exotic stuff like Ford GTs, Porsche 911s and AMG Mercedes. “I got the opportunity to work on those kinds of cars because a long-time customer owned one,” Parker explains. “The main thing is trust: you take your time, be careful, and tape up surfaces you think might get scratched; at the end of the day they’re just cars. But the funny thing with those supercars is once you’ve done one, other people will trust you with theirs.”

And that trust comes from communication. “I think there’s a failure in the industry to actually explain things properly,” Parker says. “That’s never how we go about things; I want you to understand why we need to do something, that way it will help in your decision making process. Basically it’s selling skills; learning how to convey an idea of what needs to be done to different people. I’m not going to sell a brake job to a soccer mom the same way I’m going to sell it to a guy who’s spent an extra grand on a turbo kit.

“We’re not the cheapest shop around here by any stretch of the imagination,” Parker adds. “We don’t compromise; we turn or replace rotors every time we do a brake job. If you don’t want that done, I’m not the shop to do your brakes. We’re competing with the Firestones, the Pep Boys; when people come in and price chase or do coupons, I’ll admit I’ve thought about cutting stuff. But the more I think about it, it would be a downhill slide. Again, a big part of it is educating the customer in the difference between a set of $5 brake pads and a set of $100 brake pads. It’s not just a prettier box; they work better and do a better job.

“It’s the simple things,” Parker concludes. “Honestly, it’s not a complicated business: you treat people fairly, charge a fair price and do the best job you can. We haven’t ever really deviated from that. Do the right thing regardless of what the profit margin is. All the other stuff will work itself out, as long as you take care of people the way you take care of your sister, aunt, whatever—as long as you like them, of course.”