When Dex Danby pulled into town in his Holly Red and Pearl White ’58 DeSoto Firedome, heads turned.
As Southwest Regional Sales and Marketing Manager for Mon-Aime’ Feminine Products, he’d show up quarterly to spend a day at the Piggly Wiggly going over sales numbers and recreating the display. It never failed that, as soon as he left, sales shot up for the personal products Mon-Aime’ was famous for. The man had a gift for merchandising. The wives of Fort Stockton locals were grateful, even more so their husbands.
In his houndstooth check Botany 500 sport coat and hand-painted Italian silk tie, Dex stood out amongst the local ranchers and roughnecks like his DeSoto stood out amongst their Fords and Chevys. It was whispered there would be a different car parked around back of the Naughty Pine Motel every night the Firedome was parked in front, each one belonging to a local matron wanting to experience more than just Mon-Aime’ sample products. Husbands pretended to not know, in deference to Dex, his gifts, and his DeSoto Firedome Sportsman coupe. Twin tower tail fins and a Tourqueflite transmission are quick to tell an ordinary man when he’s been outclassed.
It was on his trip through town in late ’59 that lives were changed. Dex had spent the whole day reworking the Mon-Aime’ display for the holidays, feminine hygiene products spilling out of Santa’s bag as he slid down the cardboard chimney. One of the first to tap into cross-branding, a plate of Nabisco cookies were placed on the mantel. By the end of the day Dex was ready for a drink, needing to gather strength before Mrs. Goodman met him at his motel room that evening.
Dex swung the beastly coupe into a parking spot right out front of the Lucky Lady and swaggered to the bar, just as Happy Hour was coming to a close. Hank, the bartender, extended Happy Hour to Happy Ninety Minutes, knowing Dex was good for business.
Larryann Ludlow, the youngest of the three Ludlow girls, wasted no time in joining Dex at the bar, determined to find out if the rumors of his prowess were true, or just one more ‘far-fetched fable from the Fort’. The Ludlows had never been known for how they handled their liquor, and by the end of the extended Happy Hour she was slurring her words and making her intentions more obvious than a 361 V8 with two-barrel carbs. When she reached over to “straighten his tie” she wantonly knocked the Manhattan out of his hand, its contents spilling all over the quarter-sawn oak bar.
Mopping up the contents with handfuls of paper napkins, Dex was hit with an idea more ingenious than a push button gear selector. Ignoring Larryann’s hushed invitation to experience tri-tone upholstery from the back seat, Dex tossed a ten-spot on the bar and headed out to the DeSoto alone. The rear Silvertowns spun gravel nearly to the Ben Franklin as Dex piloted the scarlet coupe back to the Naughty Pine.
At the small mid-century-modern maple desk in Room 107, Dex jotted down notes, sketched out samples, and outlined the basics of a business plan. The whole process took less than an hour. Enough time for a shave and shower and liberal application of Royal Copenhagen before the faint knocking of Mrs. Goodman’s knuckles next to the peephole of the turquoise door of his paneled room.
By 1961, DeSoto was finished. Mrs. Goodman had finely wiped the embarrassing smile off her face. Dex was no longer with Mon-Aime’, having sold his idea for Pampers to Proctor & Gamble.
6 responses to “DEX’S DANBY’S PAMPERED DeSOTO”
Love the DeSoto, all I would have changed is as a Drophead Coupe . . .
and yes, there is some implied innuendo there
Like Angushopper, I am shocked and in a state of disbelief Mrs. Goodman was doing the Wikki Na Na with Dex. Has Trixe caught wind of this? I wonder if Dex knows the mayor and his reputation? Regardless of Mrs. Goodman’s looks, sensuality and skills, it would be hard to overlook she did the dirty with Mr. Goodman.
And if Mayor Goodman finds out, he’s sure to be displeased. As someone who works all the angles, it’s highly likely Hizzonor knows someone who knows someone who, ummm, “takes care” of people. It’s playing a risky game.
Dex must have been a true S&M (Sales and Marketing) pro, choosing the product inspiration over Larryann Ludlow, the easy lush. Of course he had Mrs Goodman waiting in the wings. When our firstborn came along, late spring of 1971 in Ft Wayne, IN, we used J&J disposable diapers and it’s infused aroma of the parent company’s Baby Powder was pleasant. Weeks later, visiting maternal grandparents in New Orleans, we couldn’t find “our” Johnson & Johnson brand, only the terribly inferior Pampers which, per my wife, didn’t fit well and didn’t have the nice aroma ( at least when freshly applied). She called her cousin David, a buyer for K&B, the huge local pharmacy chain to try and find her preferred disposable diaper, like the few packs we had brought along. Not having previously been aware, he loved the quality of the J&J and wanted to introduce them in the K&B chain, already a local favorite for their store brand ice cream, and soon learned that the J&J diapers were only being “Test Marketed” back home in Ft Wayne and a few other locales. For whatever reason, the brand seemed not to take off, and wasn’t available to us in Richmond, VA in 1975 for our second child. Was CB it poor marketing? Was it that Dex had retired? Was it that the flashy DeSoto brand no longer existed?
Marketing acumen, rather than brand quality can often determine product success, profitability, and ultimate survival.
Make mine a white with gold accent DeSoto Adventurer convertible, please, and add the Hi-Way Hi-Fi so I can cruise with Sinatra’s and der Bingle’s smooth crooning. We’re thankfully beyond the Pampers (and J&J), but I’ll have a B&B to top off the evening – after exiting the white and gold Adventurer convertible.
Later this afternoon we’ll pick up out of town Packard friends, treat them to a top-down cruise in the ‘54 Caddy along New Orleans’ St Charles Ave on our way to the Oyster Bar at Pascal’s Manale restaurant on Napoleon Ave, and maybe talk about other long-gone marques.
Who knows what inspiration may develop overs oysters and adult beverages?
I’m in deep shock that an upstanding, honorable like the Goodmans engaged in extramarital affairs—so much so that I almost needed some Pampers myself.
That’s about as unbelievable as the corporation that made once made the DeSoto and the Torqueflite transmission being foreign-owned.
Oh wait. Never mind.
That being the case, I won’t mention the nude photo spreads Mrs. Goodman did prior to marrying the mayor. There is a fine line between art and porn. The mayor’s wife was able to dance right over it in her stilettos without missing a beat.
As far as the ownership of Chrysler? The brand has been passed around more than Mrs. Goodman. All it needs is a brief purchase by the Japanese and it will have been owned by all the countries of the WW II Axis powers.
The glory days of finned DeSoto coupes and smooth Torqueflight transmissions are as much a distant memory as Mrs. Goodman’s virtue.