They call him the Lube Guy.
He even drives a black Mustang GT convertible, license plate: LUBE GUY.
After 10 years of being the face and voice of Quaker Steak and Lube, Rich the Lube Guy has earned it. Ten years — plus convincing the BMV the plate wasn’t intended to be profane.
As I worked with Lifeline of Ohio over the summer on our “Live On. Ride On.” campaign reaching motorcyclists to recast the term “organ donor,” we sought insight from the usual suspects in the motorcycle community. One name is the norm: Frank at Iron Pony. Darris and Charissa at A.D. Farrow. They all said we needed to get to know Rich The Lube Guy.
So when I spotted him at Bike Night — I knew it was him by the crowd lining up to talk to him, hug him, even poke him — I had to introduce myself. Surrounded by adoring fans, he was Elvis-esque.
Turns out he’s famous (in motorcycle circles) and nice. So I asked if he’d talk to me about how he built his substantial “brand,” and he came to Fahlgren Mortine (home of what he calls “four walls” marketing) for an interview.
Rich The Lube Guy is his moonlight gig. Rich Marinucci’s full-time job is complex real estate acquisition for highway projects at ODOT — he’s had his Real Estate license for more than 30 years.
He and his wife moved to the Columbus area from Philly 20 years ago and did odd jobs while their son was in college — including jobs at Quaker. While he was an expediter in the kitchen, he was asked to work the front door one night during a VIP party at Quaker. He would give nickel tours — this is this car, that’s that car, etc. The owners liked how he interacted with guests and asked him to move up to the front of the house.
As a host, he was a crowd favorite, mostly for a simple reason — he talked to customers in his part Philly/part Italian neighborhood dialect, remembered them, thanked them for their business, wished them safe travels, brought ice cream to crying kids, remembered people’s names, and complimented them when they got dressed up. In a nutshell, he was friendly and colorful.
When a radio station came up with the idea of a recurring character for radio ads, Jim the Lube Guy, Quaker owners knew Rich was their guy. That was 320 radio commercials and about 7 TV commercials and appearances ago. He’s also the “on hold” voice when you call Quaker (”Hey, can you believe how slow these people are?”), the M.C. for Bike Night and “collector of money” for several charity auctions in the community.
Rich the Lube Guy didn’t seek fame, but among central Ohio motorcyclists and fans of Quaker Steak and Lube, he’s found it.
So why am I blogging about him? I think Rich is an example for communicators like us. Recognition and notoriety came (to him and to Quaker) as a result of Rich being a kind, sincere, colorful person interested in others. He’s a reminder that words are no replacement for actions. A reminder that the best way to start buzz is to start with substantial content.
In Rich’s case, that content was as simple as being a memorable guy from Philly who treats customers well.
