“No, thanks, I just had a bar of soap...”

In ’66 and ’67, I was the parts manager at Honda of San Francisco. I bought original equipment parts from Honda and aftermarket stuff from a number of outfits. There were reps from those aftermarket companies who’d call on us.

One of my reps was a man in early middle age named Sam. I liked him immediately and bought stuff from him whenever I could.

He was from New York state, but he was not aggressive and brash as the cliche would have it.