Ad Infinitum: A Farewell to Rocky's Autos

Rocky's Autos gave a whole new meaning to the term "ad infinitum," because those commercials never seemed to stop, not for two decades in Denver. Until now. Today, visitors to the Rocky's website are greeted with a single page that reads "Rocky's Autos is no longer in business as of September 6, 2022. Thank you."

This is a loss that will fill most Denver residents with significant ambivalence. Rocky's was ever-present on our UHF channels and car radios, a backdrop chorus to the song the Denver retail world sang and sang. And sang. And just kept singing. So long, Shagman.

Many in the Mile High had a love/hate relationship with Rocky's and its seemingly endless advertising budget, as well as the fact that those in charge of that budget went for — well, for volume over quality. But the on-the-cheap production values tended to work in favor of Rocky’s, with its pitchmen and -women Shagman, Officer Odell and Audra. Those roles were played for decades by the same trio of local actors: Ron Vigil, Odell Stroud and Audra Winn. Vigil just posted to Facebook that it “was an honor and distinct privilege to work for an independent corporation with creative standards truly outside the norm, and I'd like to think I was a big part of it.” And then, in true Shagman style, he added, “Now, does anybody have a job for me?”
That wink and nod were central to the advertising strategy of Rocky’s, which changed very little over the years despite a brief flirtation with “Troubleshooter” Tom Martino here and there. But comedy — or what passed for it — ruled the day at Rocky’s, at least in terms of commercial strategy. It was pure cheese, the unrepentant embrace of the bad pun or the pratfall. The ads had all the subtlety of a whoopee cushion. But like many a fart joke, they worked.

That’s not to say that the ad campaigns were simple. On the contrary, they often did some memorable stuff. The absurdist “Men in Black” campaign back in 2000 played out over multiple ads, almost like a serial storyline. It wasn’t the first time Rocky’s would indulge in a substantial amount of creative indulgence in its campaigns, and it wasn't the last. And even if you hated the commercials — as many did — they were memorable and ubiquitous, which is the baseline purpose of advertising in the first place.
Sure, some of Rocky’s ads were in bad taste (and “some” might be underselling it a bit). They flirted with conservative politics here and there — Shagman played a Trump caricature in a very anti-Hillary ad back in 2015 — and there was often a libertarian anti-tax, anti-government undercurrent, especially in the lead-up to April 15 each year.

Audra’s role could edge into cheesecake, and even when she wasn’t the focus of a commercial’s prurience, Rocky’s could dip into some sexist stuff. One classic example of the envelope being pushed a bit far was a Rocky's Christmas commercial, of all things, in which Santa, Shagman and Rudolph play poker with some scantily clad elves who proceed to undress Santa while Shagman makes drunk-driving jokes with everyone’s favorite red-nosed reindeer. It's notable that Rocky's only won Westword's Best Local TV Commercial in 2001, for a departure from all of its usual hijinks, offering up thirty seconds of water flowing through an icy brook, capped with a simple holiday greeting.
But the subtext makes sense if you consider the dealership’s target audience, which leaned toward the I-hate-political-correctness corner of American culture, as well as its leadership — specifically, Rocky’s founder and co-owner John Rothrock, who in 2001 faced multiple felony counts for “unregistered exotic weaponry,” including fully automatic machine guns. Rothrock also became notorious for a brief feud with none other than John Elway in the early 2000s, when the two dealerships butted heads in the advertising arena.

The Rocky’s Autos dealership itself, which had squatted on the southeast corner of Federal and West 63rd Avenue since the mid-’90s after moving from its original location near Mile High Stadium, survived in a turbulent sea of both profit and profiteering. In the early 2000s, it was reported that Rocky's was selling over 500 cars a month. But at the time of its closure on September 6, Rocky’s Autos had a 1.5 stars out of 5 rating on Yelp, with comments like “If I could give zero stars, I would,” and “Don’t give these people your money.”

Many people in Denver have a Rocky’s Autos story. A friend of mine bought a car from the place a decade or so ago, and when the transmission dropped only days after purchase, he was offered a Rocky’s ball cap to offset his loss. When I wandered onto the lot back in the early 2000s, thinking of trading in my old truck for something newer, all I got was six months of almost-daily phone calls from the guy I was dumb enough to give my number to. Still, Rocky's had its supporters, to be sure. And used cars — well, it’s not an enterprise that’s traditionally fraught with ethical concerns.

What Denver will remember is not the lot, with the so-called “cleanest cars in Colorado,” row after row of vehicles lined up with retail impunity, like headstones yielding their names to the elements. No, we'll miss those constant ads. Shagman, Officer Odell and Audra, in various costumes, in schizophrenic commercials that look like they were shot last Saturday on someone’s nephew’s camcorder. We’ll remember the ridiculousness, and the head-shaking, and the disdain and the love. And that for one brief, highly waxed moment in Denver, there was Rocky’s.