Dino Baskovic Can’t Lose

A gentlemen just walked over to me to inform me that the tech who was changing my oil noticed my air filter was dirty.

"Fine," I thought. I've had my oil changed dozens of times in the past at the dealer, which usually changes the filter by default with each visit. No doubt the cost is built into the service, though I naively assume dealers have bulk discounts with suppliers and that air filters cost next to nothing.

"It's 38 dollars to replace the filter," said the friendly employee.

"Whoa," I replied. "I can get that far cheaper elsewhere.  Heck, I'll do it myself."

"I understand, sir."

Times have changed. I drive a Saturn, which as you know, is out of gas. I was always happy with my dealership, part of the Suburban Collection, a auto dealer network in Michigan known for their "Make the Choice" ad jingle. I could change my oil anywhere, but I like getting my all-point inspection and free exterior wash.  They know the history of my car and rarely give me the runaround.  Plus the Otis Spunkmeyer cookies are a nice touch, though they're not nearly as fresh now that the dealer closed its showroom and relocated to a service facility just down the road.

I can see tacking on a modest up-charge in the future on certain Saturn parts as they grow in scarcity.  But air filters?  Really?  I tweeted my concern wondering if they'd actually respond. I even tried to send a quick email, though Gmail is firewalled from the lounge's free wi-fi for some strange reason.

Looks like I'm replacing my own filters from now on. Part of my "pretty nice little Saturday." While I'm at it, maybe I'll take the restrictor plate off to give the Red Dragon a little more juice. But it's not exactly street legal, so keep it on the down low...

Whether I choose to return to the dealer remains to be seen. Nothing against 'em but I don't like being nickel-and-dimed. And last I inspected my own belts, I could stand to skip the Spunkmeyers.

Here's one thing you can't wake up to with the Sunday paper: last night's "Saturday Night Live" sketches.

Thankfully, there's the online edition of The Detroit Free Press.  The Freep's "Browser" blog, lately one of my favorite web feeds, highlights the inevitable SNL spoof of Toyota's ongoing PR challenges, this time poking fun at the runaway Prius:

I'm sure Toyota is the least bit amused, but it was only a matter of time before SNL would bite.  The parody spot ended with "Ford: We make hybrids too" voiced over a Ford logo, though I doubt Bill Ford, Jr. saw any humor in it.

Add it to the heap of problems facing the Japanese automaker.  Granted, the Prius case is drawing questions about the accuser and his troubled financial past.  Even SNL cast member Kenan Thompson found himself in the crosshairs this morning after the spot ran.

I am still rooting for Toyota.  It may be years before the company fully recovers from the recalls, and the situation will continue to get worse before it gets better.  If anything, the SNL ad, whether or not you found it funny, is part of the healing process.

And now, back to Crankshaft...

I've had mixed emotions about this whole Toyota mess. Part of me jeered along with the rest of the blue-collar, red-blooded compatriots I grew up with in the Rust Belt that watched the reputation of our beloved American cars turn a not-so-lovely shade of patina from decades of poor decision-making. It's a part of me I'm not necessarily proud of and my world view is far more matured these days. Admittedly, I found myself momentarily pointing and laughing. "Ha ha, Toyota, feel that media heat. Hear that consumer rage. Taste that big government boot. Kiss that five-star favorability good-bye..."

Of course, part of me was compassionate. I feel for the affected families. From a business standpoint, you can't excuse such errors in judgment. There is no justification for silencing, stalling, covering up. But whether we like it or not, these things happen. Cracks form, things slip through them. Companies are people, too. Humans. Prone to human error. A $2 billion error notwithstanding litigation. Maybe Toyota sat on this far too long, maybe they didn't. It really doesn't matter. The good people behind a great company that build and market some of the world's best cars will pay the price for years to come.

It is times of corporate crisis like these that I hope that competent PR people are behind the scenes. Not just parading presidents around the morning network news, mea culpa mea culpa mea maxima culpa. But credible, dedicated professionals that will go to mattresses to restore faith in their organization's name and reputation. PR pros that, when duty calls, leave their personal lives behind to become the unsung backroom heroes that won't rest until they can call mission accomplished.

I wasn't kidding when I said "years." Faulty brakes isn't a "sticky situation" that can be brushed aside after a few nights of bad late night comedy. No, this will take winning back the trust of owners and buyers, regulators, even dealers. Knowing at least one person pulling long hours for Toyota PR these last few weeks, I truly believe the automaker is on the road to recovery.

"Moving forward." It's been Toyota's slogan for some time. There is new meaning to that now. Like my own past perceptions, Americans have evolved -- and given the global economy, evolution means survival. Toyota will survive this and be a stronger company. The company is crash-coursing lessons their "American" competitors long learned the hard way. This will become fodder for PR textbooks for generations to come. Toyota will grow smarter and move forward. So too will the industry, and so will America.

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