Chapter One: The Repo Man and the Lexus

Hi folks. My name is Daryl Horton and I run an auto recovery company out of Tallapoosa, Georgia. It’s a nice little place on the very tip of southern Appalachia that I always like to call a “big small town.”

We happen to have about 3,000 people in the city limits and about 30,000 more in Haralson County. The county pretty much stretches like an angry copperhead from the border of Alabama to the outskirts of Atlanta, thanks to the South’s unique killer combo of old liquor laws and modern day politicians. I always tell folks that we may someday run out of jobs in Tallapoosa, but we most definitely will keep on having snakes whether they’re in the bottle or out walking around!

Anyhow, life has always been a bit interesting out here. I grew up in Tallapoosa and my mom, who worked as a secretary at the nearby elementary school, made sure that my two sisters and I would become straight arrows. She loved us, but cars brought on an entirely different range of emotions in my mom.

Hate at best, and extreme rage at worse.

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Hammer Time: Trading Cards, Tradin' Cars

Rookies. All-stars. Hall of Famers.

Those were the only three types of baseball cards that I thought were worth the trade when I was a kid. I was eight years old, but that didn’t stop me from becoming diligently schooled by my three older brothers who knew the ropes of other similar hobbies such as comics, coins, and stamps.

The drill was simple. Every time someone wanted to trade cards with me, I would ask them one simple question.

“What’s your favorite team?” From there, I would bring out an album loaded with baseball cards. Every one in mint condition and encased in plastic sheets. “Pick your favorites!” They would gather their own, and I would go through their collection, find the fresher cards in mint condition, and gather mine.

Over 30 years later I do the exact same thing with cars. I sell based on interest and buy based on condition and long-term reliability. I’m still not loyal to any brand or model these days. For me, even after all these years, the opportunity to buy and sell any car comes down to three simple concepts I learned in my youth.

Condition, presentation, and price.

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  • Namesakeone If I were the parent of a teenage daughter, I would want her in an H1 Hummer. It would be big enough to protect her in a crash, too big for her to afford the fuel (and thus keep her home), big enough to intimidate her in a parallel-parking situation (and thus keep her home), and the transmission tunnel would prevent backseat sex.If I were the parent of a teenage son, I would want him to have, for his first wheeled transportation...a ride-on lawnmower. For obvious reasons.
  • ToolGuy If I were a teen under the tutelage of one of the B&B, I think it would make perfect sense to jump straight into one of those "forever cars"... see then I could drive it forever and not have to worry about ever replacing it. This plan seems flawless, doesn't it?
  • Rover Sig A short cab pickup truck, F150 or C/K-1500 or Ram, preferably a 6 cyl. These have no room for more than one or two passengers (USAA stats show biggest factor in teenage accidents is a vehicle full of kids) and no back seat (common sense tells you what back seats are used for). In a full-size pickup truck, the inevitable teenage accident is more survivable. Second choice would be an old full-size car, but these have all but disappeared from the used car lots. The "cute small car" is a death trap.
  • W Conrad Sure every technology has some environmental impact, but those stuck in fossil fuel land are just not seeing the future of EV's makes sense. Rather than making EV's even better, these automakers are sticking with what they know. It will mean their end.
  • Add Lightness A simple to fix, strong, 3 pedal car that has been tenderized on every corner.