Blood,Sweat and Axle Grease

When you come right down to it, what differentiates the automobile business from advertising? Let’s give this a closer look. Both draw in their clients though a barrage of exaggeration, hype, flash, fantastic claims, guaranteed reasonable prices, reliable maintenance and, as if to clinch the hook in an effort to reel in the prize marlin, dancing women. Is this too much satire or does this crown the nail? When you consider the story of Semus Russell and Matador Motors, the absurd may not appear so sensational ; in fact it could prove frighteningly familiar.
In the advertising profession, Semus Russell invested all of his talents and intelligence in an effort to make an honest and comfortable living for himself and his family. Superficially, his vision of reality was identical to the illustrations on American billboards in the late 1940s and early 50s, and then one day he had an epiphany. His ideal life and his work which he claimed, at times with considerable effort, fulfilled him, was empty. Had he ever been true to himself? When he could not answer that question, so perplexed by it that he was unable to come up with a quasi-plausible manufactured response, he knew that he needed a change. But where in the little town of Carrefour would he find a new venue?
Change comes in many forms and usually from unlikely sources. For Semus, coming home one day from the office, he ‘found’ Jerry’s Junky Jalopies. It had been there for years and Semus had driven past it on myriad occasions, sometimes noting the depressing and dilapidated condition of the place. Now, on that rainy day, what had heretofore appeared with the luster of lead now shone with the resplendence of sun-struck gold and Semus was drawn in. Within the better part of a year, Semus had purchased the property and had transformed a local eyesore into Matador Motors, the only dealer of the Seat (sea-ot) El Principe. It was exotic. It was foreign. It was flashy. Now, how do you sell the unique and vivacious to a town used to the grey, the drab, workaday, and whose idea of unique cuisine was Terry’s Tamales and Betty’s Bakery where French cream eclairs were seen as erotic to the point of pornographic.
Being in advertising, Semus decided that since his dealership was dedicated to Seat that it should have a Spanish theme. Matador Motors had to evince the Spanish flavor of the parent company and, towards that end, Semus’s first ad spot incorporated what he thought would be the essential elements in projecting the proper image to the community. His first ad was a failure on several counts, principally because his vision of the Spanish character of his dealership was based on stereotypes and misconceptions of the Spanish ethos. With a little help from Enrique Ximenes, the Madrid representative for Seat U.S.A., Semus turned his car carnival into a professional dealership which garnered respect among his fellow automotive executives.
More so than any other commercial endeavor, the automobile industry attracts a wide variety of individuals. From Semus, the would-be matador to his cynical Service Manager, pessimistic Parts Manager and happy-go-lucky Sales Manager who dealt with everyone from gangsters to hippies to drunks determined to get even with their wives, the circus lives on. Chaotic? Certainly. Yet given the American love for the automobile and attraction for flamboyant marketing techniques, Semus saw his fortunes rise in Carrefour. Above all else, his self esteem which had always been low, rose to heights beyond his imagination. His daughter really loved him for him and not for his material possessions. Also, his wife was actually proud of his achievements. Most importantly, Semus found himself, his true self, and cultivated that aspect with rigor. Alas, it could not last.