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Crazy Eddie's Insanely Successful Criminal Enterprise

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For anyone living in the New York metropolitan area throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Crazy Eddie was inescapable. A chain of electronics stores that eventually spread to 43 locations across four states, the business bombarded consumers with print, television, and radio ads that guaranteed name brand products at major discounts. Disc jockey Jerry Carroll taped more than 7500 of the radio and television spots as a hyper salesman who promised that Crazy Eddie’s prices were “insaaaaane.” At one point, New Yorkers had greater name recognition with the stores than with Ed Koch—their own mayor.  

“Crazy Eddie” was Eddie Antar, the grandson of Syrian immigrants, who started a modest stereo shop in Brooklyn and parlayed it into a retail empire grossing $350 million annually. In addition to changing how electronics retailers advertised—pushing price above all else—Antar also paid his employees off the books, failed to report cash purchases, kept the sales tax, and later migrated to $145 million in securities fraud when his cousin, Sam Antar, graduated from college as a Certified Public Accountant (CPA).

“The whole purpose of the business was to commit premeditated fraud,” Sam tells mental_floss. “My family put me through college to help them commit more sophisticated fraud in the future. I was trained to be a criminal.  

“People have a certain idea of Crazy Eddie. In reality, it was a dark criminal enterprise.”

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A high school dropout at the age of 16, Eddie Antar wasted no time in exploiting the burgeoning world of consumer electronics. It was the late 1960s, and smaller, more portable transistors were about to usher in a new wave of products that would make Japanese brands like Sony and Panasonic household names. Before long, video game systems, VCRs, and camcorders would expand the market.

Initially, Antar sold televisions from a small stand at the Port Authority, grabbing attention by talking fast and eventually wearing customers down. “He was like Fonzie,” Sam says. “Very charismatic and very smart. You steal more with a smile than you do with a gun.”

By 1970, Eddie had learned from the failure of his first store, a tiny spot near Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn dubbed Sights & Sounds ERS, and secured a better location for an outlet that he owned with his father, Sam Antar, and cousin Ronnie Gindi. The “crazy” adjective came from a customer who took note of Eddie’s salesmanship practices: He’d playfully bar patrons from leaving empty-handed and take their shoes as deposits for stereos; he even promised discounts to people who braved winter blizzards. Word spread of Eddie’s theatrical approach. More importantly, people began to realize he was gleefully ignoring federal guidelines concerning pricing.

Fair trade laws meant that manufacturers could insist on one standard retail price for all retailers. In theory, this meant consumers would always get the “best” deal no matter where they shopped—but Eddie marked his merchandise down anyway. It was the only way he could compete with larger chains that had huge ad budgets. When manufacturers refused to sell him inventory, he’d get it from grey-market suppliers with items intended for overseas sales or other businesses that had excess stock. (Stolen goods were a rare source. “Too risky,” Sam says.)

How could he afford to do it? By stealing. “As a corrupt private company, we had the advantage,” says Sam, who began his career in the family business as a stock boy at the age of 14. “Back then, most customers paid in cash. If we don’t disclose the sale, we keep the sales tax. That’s a good cushion to be able to afford to beat the competition.” Cash revenue was kept under beds, in floorboards, or deposited into Israeli banks.

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Despite Eddie’s covert criminality, his opposition to fair trade practices made him a hero in the eyes of consumers. In 1976, the remaining holdout states repealed the law, forcing manufacturers to sell to any retailer who could afford to pay their invoices.

While that may have leveled the playing field a bit, Eddie had another form of ammunition: advertising. Though his budget was small, the ad campaign cooked up by advertising director Larry Weiss featuring Carroll as a manic discounter was so memorable that Crazy Eddie’s name recognition began to surpass that of Coca-Cola in the tri-state area. Some local stations stayed on the air overnight simply because Antar had bought all the ad time. (According to Weiss, Eddie’s first spot on the radio cost $5. He never paid the bill.)

Between 1975 and 1984, Crazy Eddie recorded profits in the millions by using register skimming to under-report income; repair services were billed to manufacturers at three times their actual cost; and customers would often be flipped by one, two, or three salesmen trained in the Crazy Eddie method of coercion.

“You had one person with the customer, the Switch Over, or SO,” Sam explains. “The second would be the Take Over, or TO. If he failed, you’d call in the third, the NAD—the Nail ‘Em At the Door guy. It wasn’t just discounting. We tried to switch the customer to higher-margin items.” Sony, for example, might be a break-even sale; Crazy Eddie employees would try to convince customers buying a Sony receiver that they needed house-brand speakers or a subwoofer.

Some of this was plotted in a language unique to Eddie’s work culture. “We spoke a kind of Arabic pig Latin,” Sam says. “We had a dictionary that would be passed around. We wanted [employees] to feel like part of the family culture.” That culture that would soon grow to include securities fraud on a level never before seen in retail.

In 1980, Sam Antar graduated Baruch College of the City University of New York as a CPA and returned to Crazy Eddie full-time as its chief financial officer. By design, his education was to help the Antar family perpetuate fraud above and beyond skimming the register or selling inflated extended warranties.

In order to do that, they’d first have to go straight—even if it meant overpaying their income taxes. “We needed to report a higher profit before getting a higher public valuation,” Sam says. “So from 1980 to 1984, when we went public, that was my job. You legitimize the business in order to commit bigger fraud.”

By reporting sales previously conducted under the counter, Crazy Eddie was able to demonstrate growth even when sales were steady. They were also able to increase valuation by paying taxes well in excess of what they might have actually owed. “As an example, say we claim to sell $1 million with a 50 percent tax rate,” Sam says. “We pay $500,000 in taxes. If the company is trading at 30 times earnings, we’ve inflated the value—and it’s worth spending that $500,000.”

Crazy Eddie had another bit of misdirection prepared. At one point, Sam was able to secure a job with the company’s auditors without them knowing he still worked for the retailer. It helped to know auditor habits, like only looking at certain stores when conducting inventory checks. By boosting stock in those stores and claiming it was across the board, Crazy Eddie could claim $65 million in product they didn’t actually possess.

The amorality of the family business made for handsome profits. When Crazy Eddie went public in 1984, the stock shot from $8 a share to $79—and the Antars held much of it. More than $145 million was raised from investors who had no idea Crazy Eddie was misrepresenting its financial profile.

“We never spoke about right or wrong,” Sam says. “It was just the way we did things.”

Before long, some in the Antar family would speak up about their business practices. And when the finger-pointing was over, Crazy Eddie would find himself both in exile and owing $120 million in restitution.

Eddie Antar (R) after being arrested in Israel in 1992. Courtesy of Getty.

If it had been up to the auditors, Sam says, Crazy Eddie would probably still be in business. “They do the equivalent of finding typos in a Word document. They take a small sample and project it onto the financial situation as a whole. The companies they audit are called ‘clients.’ That language is important. It should be ‘target.’” Most fraud, Sam believes, is discovered by whistleblowers, not accounting firms, who he says employ young and inexperienced employees to navigate complicated financial inspections.  

That lackadaisical approach is what kept Crazy Eddie cooking books for nearly two decades. In 1987, after a steady decline in sales owing to other mass-discount retailers and overeager expansion, the company's stock price dipped, and the Antars found themselves subject to new majority shareholders who were puzzled by the imaginary inventory. Once the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission got involved, it was a matter of time before Sam, Eddie, and Eddie’s father began vying for the best government deal possible while their franchise began to close its doors.

“There’s no better motivator than a 20-year prison term,” Sam says. He told the government the entire story, from the skimming to the stock fraud. “I didn’t cooperate because I found God. I cooperated to save my ass.”

Eddie Antar, who had fled to Israel for two years following the investigation, was extradited in 1992 and sentenced to 12-and-a-half years in prison in 1994; when his judge was criticized for bias that led to an overturned conviction in 17 counts including conspiracy and racketeering, he got eight years as part of a plea to avoid a retrial in 1996. Officials were able to retrieve more than $120 million in offshore accounts, which was repaid to investors. Because of his cooperation, Sam received six months of house arrest and the loss of his CPA license.

“It was really just the next business step,” he says. “I sold information to the government and got my freedom.”

After being released from his “vacation,” Sam began to get invitations to lecture at universities and private businesses about white-collar fraud. “My rap sheet became more important than my resume.”

He has since become a forensic accountant, advising businesses, law firms, and the FBI on the tricks used to perpetuate fraud on investors, all while stressing that he's not offering himself up as a “redemption” story. “It helps my credibility by not being apologetic for my crimes. Call me the criminal I was and probably still am. I might tell you I won’t commit another crime, but is it true? Or does it just help you sleep better at night?”

Sam hasn’t spoken to his cousin in years. (In 1994, Eddie told the Philadelphia Inquirer the skimming went toward a pension fund for workers and that his cousins were the “true masterminds” of the stock scam.) Jerry Carroll, who became famous for the television ads, has since adopted the habit of starting interviews by telling people he had nothing to do with the scheme. Citing “brand equity,” a licensee briefly tried reviving the brand in 2009, which Sam compared to resurrecting Enron. It never got off the ground.

In the end, Sam believes Crazy Eddie’s legacy comes down to two words: discount and fraud. For the Antars, no amount of legitimate success could equal the rush of beating the system.

“There’s a line in the Wall Street sequel about it not being about the money,” he says. And that was true. It was never about the money. It was about the game. And we enjoyed the game.”

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Here’s Why Bells Are Always Ringing in Trader Joe’s
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Mike Mozart, Flickr // CC BY 2.0

Trader Joe’s has attracted a devoted fan-base by doing things a little differently than your typical grocery store chain. But shoppers may not even realize that the company has done away with this ubiquitous supermarket feature.

As Business Insider recently noted, Trader Joe’s doesn’t use an intercom system. So instead of hearing “clean up in aisle 4” blaring overhead, customers shop to a soundtrack of ringing bells.

The nautical bells, which are situated at each register, are used by employees to communicate with one another. According to the company’s website, “blustery PA systems” didn’t fit the brand, so it borrowed inspiration from the maritime traders of a bygone era and developed its own Morse-like code.

If you hear one ring, that means an additional register needs to be opened. Two rings means that either a cashier or a customer has a question at checkout, and three signals a manager. The code isn’t exactly a secret as it’s available for anyone to find online, but memorizing it will definitely give you bit of intel most patrons don’t have. It can also be used to plan your shopping strategy. If you hear four bells, for instance, that means the store is getting crowded, so you should forget about grabbing that second bottle of Two-Buck Chuck and hustle to the checkout line.

[h/t Business Insider]

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13 Secrets of Professional Naming Consultants
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When it comes to companies and products, names matter. A slick name makes a company sound trendy and cool, while a terrible name can have customers running into the arms of the competition. Unsurprisingly, many companies take the process very seriously, hiring outside naming consultants who either work within creative agencies or at agencies devoted entirely to naming. We got a few to give us the scoop on how their job really works.

1. IT’S NOT JUST A CREATIVE TASK.

“The notion that namers are hippies and poets jotting down names on cocktail napkins couldn’t be farther from the truth,” says Mark Skoultchi, a partner at Catchword, the agency that named the Fitbit Flex and Force and Starbucks’s Refreshers line.

The stakes are just too high for naming to be a purely creative project, because a bad name can break a product. Consider, for example, the major slump in sales ISIS chocolates experienced in 2014 when people began to associate their name with the Islamic State. (The company rebranded itself to Libeert.) And when the AIDS crisis hit in the 1980s, the diet candy company Ayds chose not to change its name, eventually suffering the consequences. (When asked about it, an official from its parent company, Jeffrey Martin, famously snapped, “Let the disease change its name.”) By 1988, the company conceded that the name was hurting sales, and changed it to Diet Ayds. But the product was soon pulled from shelves altogether.

“When you’re naming your kid or nicknaming your car it’s more creative. There aren’t as many consequences,” says Nina Beckhardt, founder and CEO of The Naming Group, a consultancy that works with Chevrolet, Kohler, and Capital One. “But when you’re brand naming, the name you select has to be strategically impeccable. It has to make sense and at least not offend millions of people around the globe.”

2. NAMES CAN’T JUST SOUND GOOD.

Naming isn’t just a subjective choice—really liking a name doesn’t mean it’s a good fit for your company. “People want to get more subjective with it,” Beckhardt says. “They’ll say that name reminds me of my cat or rhymes with such and such. That observation is so enormously unimportant compared with the fact that the name successfully checks all the boxes we created at the beginning.” The point is to find a name that gets across what the company wants to convey, rather than one that every person involved in the naming process loves.

For example, when The Naming Group was working with Capital One to develop their first brand-name rewards credit card, the company had to consider who they were trying to target—travelers. The result was the Venture card, a name with a connotation of adventure and exploration that’s “not right on the nose.”

3. IT HELPS TO HAVE A BACKGROUND IN LINGUISTICS—OR TRADEMARK LAW.

Though naming is essentially an exercise in corporate strategy, naming agencies don’t just employ people with backgrounds in branding and marketing. They also need linguistics experts to help generate names that make sense, have positive connotations in modern usage (i.e. nothing that might have a negative slang meaning), and inspire the associations the company wants to elicit.

Coming up with a name also involves some legal legwork. You can’t name your company or product after something that’s already trademarked. And if you want to expand internationally, the name needs to be available to trademark in other countries as well. That means naming agencies are often looking for people with a background in trademark law.

4. YOU HAVE TO COME UP WITH HUNDREDS OF NAMES, IF NOT THOUSANDS.

“Naming is a game of numbers,” Beckhardt says. “You have to have a lot of options.” Even if the potential names sound great, many are bound to run into trademark conflicts or not work in another language.

So before namers get together to present feasible ideas to the clients they’re working with, they come up with hundreds, if not thousands, of potential options. “At Catchword, 200 names is scratching the surface,” Skoultchi says.

5. BUT THE CLIENT WON’T SEE THEM ALL.

When faced with too many options to choose from, people tend to freeze up in what psychologists call “choice overload” [PDF]. Whether you’re talking about choosing between similar items at the grocery store or an endless array of potential product names, it’s overwhelming to consider all the possibilities. Namers take their initial 200 or 1000 ideas and whittle them down to present only the best (and most feasible) options. At Catchword, that means about 50 names.

But namers can also face the opposite challenge. If a client gets too set on a single idea, it blinds them to what might be better options still out there. “For each project I will get and try to get the client attached to a number of different names,” Beckhardt says, rather than looking for “the prince charming” of names.

6. A NAME CAN BE TOO ORIGINAL

The amount of meaning a name communicates lies along a continuum. On the one end, there’s an overly descriptive name. On the other end, there’s so-called “empty vessel” names, which are so far removed from actual words that they come off as meaningless. The ideal name falls somewhere in the middle, but if you end up too far toward the “empty vessel” side, your name will be a target for mockery.

Consider Tribune Publishing, the media company that owns the Chicago Tribune. In 2016, it rebranded as “tronc,” a name derived from the phrase “Tribune online content.” The move was widely mocked, for good reason. In The New York Times, a branding expert said the name “creates an ugliness.” The new name became a black eye for the company rather than a sign of its forward-thinking vision.

Empty vessel names are particularly common in the tech world, but played right, it can work. Google could be considered an empty vessel name, but it does have an origin, albeit one that most people aren’t familiar with. A googol is a huge number—10100—which makes sense within the context of the search engine’s ability to aggregate results from a near-infinite number of sources online.

7. A NAME CAN’T JUST SOUND GOOD IN ENGLISH.

One reason naming agencies need linguists is that unless a company is only marketing its products domestically, the name needs to work in multiple languages. If your product sounds slick in English but means something dirty in Norwegian, you’ve got a problem.

Plenty of companies have found this out the hard way. The Honda Fit was almost the Honda Fitta, but the company changed the name when it realized that “fitta” was slang for female genitalia in Swedish. The company later started calling it the Honda Jazz outside of North America.

Different languages also pronounce certain letters differently, which gets awkward if you’re not careful. “When we’re developing names we have to prepare for those mispronunciations to make sure that isn’t going to affect how people understand the product,” Beckhardt says. In Germany, Vicks sells its products under the name Wick, because the German pronunciation of the original brand name (in which a “v” is pronounced like an “f”) sounds like a slang word for sex.

Even if the name isn’t vulgar, it might have connotations in another language that you don’t want people associating with your product. In Mandarin, Microsoft’s Bing has to go by a different name, because “bing” means disease. Part of the naming process, according to Beckhardt, is “making sure that if we’re naming a skin care product, it doesn’t mean acne in Japanese.” She adds that at one point, while working on a rebranding project, The Naming Group came up with a name that ended up meaning “pubic hair” in another language. (Obviously, that one didn't get presented to the client.)

8. IF YOU DON’T COME UP WITH A FOREIGN NAME, CUSTOMERS MIGHT DO IT FOR YOU.

Famously, when Coca-Cola first started selling its products in China in 1927, it didn’t immediately come up with a new name that made sense in Chinese characters. Instead, shopkeepers transliterated the name Coca-Cola phonetically on their signage, leading to odd meanings like “bite the wax tadpole.” In 1928, Coke registered a Chinese trademark for the Mandarin 可口可乐 (K'o K'ou K'o Lê), which the company translates as “to permit mouth to be able to rejoice.”

9. COMING UP WITH A CHINESE NAME IS ESPECIALLY COMPLICATED.

Foreign companies are eager to expand into China’s growing market, but it’s not as easy as transliterating an American name, like LinkedIn, to Chinese characters. In some cases, companies use Chinese names that sound somewhat like their English equivalent, but in others, they go by names that don’t sound similar at all. “It’s this crazy art form of balancing phonetic similarity and actual meaning,” Beckhardt says.

Labbrand, a consultancy founded in Shanghai, helps American companies come up with names that work for Chinese markets. For LinkedIn’s Chinese name, Labbrand was able to come up with a name that both sounded a bit like the original and still had a meaning in line with the company’s purpose. 领英 (lǐng yīng) means “leading elite.” For other companies, though, it makes more sense to come up with a name that sounds nothing like the American brand, yet has a strategic meaning. For Trip Advisor, Labbrand came up with “猫途鹰 (māo tú yīng)," a combination of the characters for "owl" and "journey"—a reference to the company’s owl logo and its role as a travel site.

Some names, however, are just straight translations. Microsoft is 微软 (weiruan), two characters that literally mean “micro” and “soft.”

10. THERE ISN'T USUALLY AN ‘A-HA’ MOMENT.

“Oftentimes, clients are expecting epiphany, to have an ‘a-ha!’ moment, but those moments are more rare than you think,” Skoultchi says. “It’s not because the name ideas aren't great, it’s because most people have trouble imagining” what the names will sound like in the real world. “Context, visual identity, taglines, copy, and other factors influence our perception of a name and how appealing it is. Imagine just about any modern blockbuster brand, and now imagine it’s just a word on a page, in Helvetica, with little to no marketing support.”

To help customers understand how a name might look in real-world settings, Catchword gives it a slightly jazzier graphic design that’s more representative of what it would look like in the market, adding in potential taglines and ad copy to make it look more realistic.

11. YOU’RE NOT JUST NAMING ONE THING.

The Naming Group, for example, has worked with Capital One, Kohler, and Reebok to come up with names for multiple products, and they've also worked to establish parameters for future names. That's because what you call one product could have implications for your future products—and ideally, the names of different products across a company should work together.

Take the example of Fitbit. The company has a naming style that involves single-syllable, simple English words that are designed to convey something unique about the product. They also had to fit the tiny devices themselves, so length mattered. The name “Flex” went to the first wristband tracker, and the most advanced tracker became “Force.” Later, the first tracker that measured heart rate would become "Charge," and the one designed for high-intensity athletes, "Blaze." All the names have a similar vibe while managing to convey something about the specific device.

As a cautionary tale, imagine a world in which Steve Jobs was allowed to use his preferred name for the iMac, “MacMan.” (Luckily, an ad agency creative director talked him out of it.) Given how the “i” in iMac influenced Apple’s future naming conventions, would there later have been a PodMan and PhoneMan? Choosing the iMac led to a larger branding scheme—the iPod, the iPhone, the iPad—that's instantly recognizable. “The PhoneMan” just wouldn’t have the same ring.

12. COMPANIES OFTEN WAIT UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE.

There’s a perception that naming should come from within a company—that if you build a product, you automatically know the best thing to call it. But that’s often not the case. Companies usually don’t employ professional namers on staff and don’t have any set guidelines on how to come up with new names. And it’s often not until the last minute that they realize they need outside help to decide on a great moniker. “It can be so emotional,” Beckhardt explains. “Companies come to you pulling their hair out, [saying] ‘We just can’t decide; we haven’t found it yet.’”

13. IT ONLY TAKES A FEW WEEKS.

Naming something usually doesn’t involve a lightning bolt of inspiration, but neither do companies slave over names for months. According to Beckhardt, the process takes anywhere from four to six weeks, though they can expedite the process if they really need to.

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