Word’s spreading quickly today that Genuine Scooters founder Philip McCaleb passed away this morning after a heart attack.
I’ve already seen a few reverent posts from scooterists and industry professionals, most mention (as politely as possible) how difficult he was to work with. I was lucky enough to talk to him regularly but we managed to keep enough distance between us that we had a really good relationship. He was always kind to me; he’d take me out for dinner once a year or so, where he’d spill a bunch of industry gossip and tell his stories. I was always trusted to snoop around the office and warehouse. Even after he got out of the business, he’d occasionally send a postcard from some far-off outpost.
I somehow always got his good side. But even those who faced off with him over the years will tell you the same thing: McCaleb was probably the most important force in American scootering in the last 50 years.
After Piaggio left the market and Honda’s eighties scooter heyday had passed, McCaleb turned the ashes of Vespa of Chicago into Scooterworks U.S.A., soon becoming the U.S.’s biggest importer of parts for vintage Vespas. He had a handshake deal with the Agnelli Family: when Piaggio was ready to return, they’d do it with Scooterworks. When Roberto Colaninno took over Piaggio, that deal was broken, and Philip retaliated by going to an old Piaggio licensee, LML in India, and striking a deal to supply America with its P150-derived “Star;” arguably more of a Vespa than Vespa’s new Vespas. A deal with PGO in Taiwan followed, bringing in the “Bubu” and other models.
But an Indian copy of a 30-year-old design and a few nondescript Taiwanese scooters were not the reason for Genuine’s success. McCaleb, unlike any other American scooter importer since (arguably including Piaggio) really knew his market. He struck a careful balance between “retro” and “modern,” avoiding both the niche “Mods and Rockers” cliches and Piaggio’s hyper-pretentious marketing. He carefully and professionally rebranded his bikes as the Genuine “Stella” and “Buddy,” had them sprayed in compelling colors, tweaked specs for our market, and targeted everyday people looking for affordable recreation and transportation, with simple, professionally-designed advertisements and catalogs.
In a sea of lowest-common-denominator Chinese Yamaha clones and European and Japanese luxury scooters, Genuine stood out for their practicality, reliability, durability, and affordability. The last piece of the puzzle was the dealer network, and again, no one, even Piaggio, compared to McCaleb-era Genuine’s relationship with dealers. Dealers came to love the brand as easy-to-sell, with reliable quality control, good marketing, and equally good support from the manufacturer. Customers loved them, and joined vintage scooterists in rebuilding the U.S. scooter community. McCaleb knew that scooters on the street — especially in packs! — bring curious customers into the dealership. While scooters were an afterthought to every other manufacturer, importer, and dealer, Genuine exclusively sold scooters, and the passion was clear.
Another thing I haven’t seen mentioned elsewhere: McCaleb (at least as he described it to me at one of our dinners) started the Vespa Club of America in the early nineties with Randolph Garner. To avoid the appearance that Scooterworks was behind the club, McCaleb convinced Garner to become the first president of the club. McCaleb was VCOA member #6. Scooterworks and Genuine have remained very supportive of VCOA and Amerivespa, often moreso than Piaggio.
McCaleb was (in his words, for what they’re worth) “forced out” of Genuine and Scooterworks in 2013 by venture capitalists that he and his silent partner brought in to help grow the company. Even in their best years, Genuine was surely never as mega-profitable as anyone had hoped, but in the volatile, cyclical American scooter market, they’ve done as well as anyone. Dozens of other scooter companies have come and gone, but Genuine remains a major force in the American market. Even so, it seems to me that McCaleb’s vision is missed. I don’t doubt for a second that he was difficult to work with and maybe it simply wasn’t worth the drama, but I suspect it was his pressure on suppliers and dealers — and especially his knowledge of the market — that gave Genuine its edge.
Remember back when our friend Matthew’s 2002 Bajaj Chetak was somehow 
