IML: Met your match yet?

[Kenyon Wills <imperialist1960@xxxxxxxxx>]

Normally staid, conservative Chrysler advertising
takes a turn for the surreal in this little item.

http://imperialclub.com/Yr/1966/66Match/index.htm

Please note that the photo on the first black page is
a photo of then 14-year-old club-member and 1966 owner
David Whitney the day that he met his match - the 1966
Imperial that's currently keeping the concrete on his
driveway from floating into the upper atmosphere, but
I get ahead of myself - this is the story of one magic
night 40 years ago, when he first laid eyes on his new
car.  

It's also the root of his nervous chain-smoking, a
fact hinted at in the photo of him lighting his
first-ever cigarette when he first sees his car at the
dealership as he makes a deeper-than-expected
emotional connection with what is otherwise a very
ornate lump of metal and rubber.

After tapping his trust-fund for cash to buy the car
and have a dual-snorkel option installed at the
dealership, we move forward in the story, as our hero
runs through the rain to his waiting car (leaving the
lights on in the parking lot is not advisable, but
when you're in an ad that is the fore-runner to
reality TV, the sky's the limit).

Once in the super-car, David glances at his watch and
although his car is fast, his lear jet is an even
faster way to get to Omaha for a good steak dinner
with his childhood friend and fellow Imperial owner
Warren Buffet, so away he goes.

When he gets to Warren's house, the good news just
keeps coming, as Warren's hot young wife, Dottie,
professes her secret crush on him in the doorway.  

Being the good friend that David is, he runs out of
the house and goes to play raquet ball on the other
side of the estate to burn off his nervous energy,
since a cold shower at Warren's house in Dottie's
presence is now out of the question.  

On his way back from his game, he is disappointed to
see that Doris has followed him.  Panicked, he jumps
out of the running car and gives it to her - begging
her to return it to Warren's garage for him, claiming
to have intestinal cramps and gas - and looking for a
way - ANY way out of this situation.

Fortunately Dottie was named by parents who knew what
to expect, and she happily drives off in her leopard
coat and the Imperial.

Unfortunately for him, David is put further off
balance when Warren asks him to "entertain" Doris in a
moment straight out of Pulp Fiction.  

Foreshadowing the roller coaster that John Travolta
went on in that cautionary tale, David wines and dines
Doris in downtown Omaha, being careful to avoid
visiting the crack-house that she suggests, and
instead going for the more familiar drug of choice -
alcohol.  

I happened to be in town that night in my white
convertible, but due to a head cold that forced me to
wear that stupid pink hat (all the GF had at the
time), I had to leave David and Dottie early (with the
fervent hope that my buddy would get some
love-connection action later).  

David and Dottie go for a drive through the rough part
of town, followed by a chaser of aggressive shopping
therapy for Dottie.

In a moment of weakness, David shows Doris his
favorite 1966 Imperial feature, the fully reclining
passenger seat.  Unfortunately, this isn't a
serialized booklet, and the reader is left to wonder
exactly happened between David and Dottie after the
last frame.



It is events like these that memories are made of. 
The ad copy and photos are both inconclusive and beg
the question:  Was it Dottie or his project car that
turned out to be the real match that David met?


Unfortunately, Chrysler still has to earn a living,
and is not doing ongoing ad copy about engine-less '66
coupes fourty years later-on with shaggy paint (been
quite a fall since that wild night in Omaha, David!),
so the world waits for an answer, perhaps to be
revealed on the pages of the club website when David
overcomes his camera-shyness and proves that he was
more than a match for his project car.   

Kenyon Wills
 
 






















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