Dan Norris

dannorris

What to do when the going gets tough – Part 1

As John Lennon once famously declared, life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. At Munich Legends, January was a reassuringly busy month – Brexit and the general election was behind us (for better or worse) giving the country a longed-for sense of stability – at last we could plan ahead with some feeling of security. We were heading for one of our most successful financial years on record, projects being lined up, customers making plans to bring their cars out of storage for the new season – we were smashing it.

Anybody familiar with running a business must have, at one time or another, signed an insurance policy, or contract of some sort with a force majeure clause. You know, it’s the one about acts of god, plagues, war. The one we skim over and ignore. Like the business interruption bit of the insurance policy – yes, what happens if there’s a fire? What about if a bulldozer accidentally drives into the showroom? Could happen. We could go to war with France – especially if they keep nicking our fish. But shutting down the Western World due to a pandemic? Never gonna happen.

We all know how fast events took hold – one minute it’s another freaky Chinese flu – what-do-you-expect-if-you-eat-bats type of thing – the next there’s some worrying news from returning skiers, and before you know it there’s hourly updates on news feeds and alarming news from Italy, counter balanced by bizarre images of government ministers singing happy birthday while they washed their hands.

By the middle of March we were beginning to watch in detail the inflow of work, waiting for any sign of business dropping off, but we were confident – garages are an essential business after all – we’d get through it, by careful management and by using good old fashioned common sense. Then came the bombshell – the day after BJ’s announcement – at one hour’s notice. Our suppliers were shutting down. BMW UK closed. We were stopped in our tracks. Everyone out!

I can honestly say that first week of March was like living through a nightmare. Confusion, panic, darkness. Somehow, though, we picked ourselves up. It was a bit like emerging from a bunker, to survey the wreckage – it wasn’t a pretty sight. But as with any business, it’s the staff, the team that makes the magic happen. Due to the sheer determination and bloody mindedness of a couple of key individuals, we were able to keep the lights on. We took stock, we talked to our customers – who were all in shock – and we got busy. Then came a boost – our year-end figures, despite including a couple of week’s disruption, showed a great set of numbers. Key projects – the ones we thought we’d lose – came through. Customers started emailing, asking what our plans were. There was life out there, albeit strange and unknown, a bit like in The Day of The Triffids. In fact, the whole thing was beginning to seem like some weird 70’s paranoid drama – a post-apocalyptic, end of the world type low budget mini-series, except we were the actors, script writers and viewers, all combined.

I soon developed a firm policy. Everyone had a story – a perfectly fit cyclist friend, now on a ventilator, alarming rumours from care homes, business failures – and it wasn’t helping anyone. So, Rule #1, no more discussion about pandemics. Stop talking about COVID-19. Start remaking plans. And suddenly I was opening my inbox, and seeing a surge in car enquiries. I’d had the conversation with a few collectors – car values were going to go into freefall, they said. The market would be in panic. Those with money would feed off the fear, there’d be a frenzy. But not from where I stood. I could see enquiries for our M3 CS (manual – the one to have) and our Z4M coupe (cult classic) and for low mileage M3 CSLs (doesn’t need

a comment) and it was like nothing had changed. I need an Inspection II on my E46 M3. Can I get my brakes done while I’m off work? My X5 suspension has collapsed…

The human being is a much stronger, more resilient, tougher species than we give ourselves credit for sometimes. We adjust much easier than we think. We get bored – and our Good Old British sense of humour kicks in. People stuck at home start planning that fantasy five car garage, or that first sweet road trip. We asked on social media – where will you go on that first, wonderful day? The most popular reply – not Stelvio, or the Dolomites – KFC, mate.

So here we are. As I write, the UK is in a strange sort of limbo – unlike France or Italy, who did a proper lockdown and enforced it with a rod of steel, releasing its citizens with black-and-white clarity – the Brits have a typical fudged regime. You can see your parents, but only one at a time. They travel to your house. They can only see you on their own. Then they return home together. You can leave the home to take exercise – you can go where you wish, as often as you like – but we’re still in lockdown.

But after all is said and done, there is no choice. There will be life after COVID-19, we will be happy again, things will get back to normal – even if it’s a ‘new normal’. No use crying over spilt milk, as my gran would say. So from John Lennon, to Billy Ocean.

I got something to tell you I got something to say I’m gonna put this dream in motion I never let nothing stand in my way When the going gets touch The tough get going.

Whatever world we emerge into will be our world – the one we recreate. Let’s get going.