We think of them as Edsels.

Remember the Edsel? It was a car that seemed like a really good idea to Ford executives. Kinda like Pontiac's Aztek. Or Malcom Bricklin importing the Yugo. The Edsel (Unlike the Aztek and the Yugo) has become the symbol for offering the public the wrong product at the wrong time. Think New Coke.

Undoubtedly, every retailer has a product line he wishes he had never gone near. It might have seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Maybe there was a three-mojito lunch involved. Perhaps the two individuals who would have bought the item moved from the area. Or perchance buyers who lust after the product never thought to look for them at this particular place.... like going shopping for a rare vintage champagne at a store called, "Booze Is Us" or men's boxers at Victoria's Secret.

For us at the Dog House Garage, our Edsel has shown up in the form of Byer's Carolers. Now, we know there is a market for these figurines (fancy name for "doll" that you display instead of tying to a firecracker as you did with your sister's Barbie) . We suppose it was a good idea to offer a line of collectibles for women -- or men who collect costumed little people. If any of the latter have ever set foot in our store, they stayed way under the radar in front of their buddies. Nor have we seen any undercover male shopper action on these.... "Yeah, you guys go ahead and get the car; I have to hit the head....psst, hey bud, put up cookie-baking grandma in a plain bag for me and ring it up quick, OK? Here, wrap it in the Boss 302 T-Shirt first in case the bag falls open."

In short, guys just don't expect to find Carolers in a store largely devoted to the mostly manly preoccupation with fast things that run on petroleum products. You guys who do the Carlisle shows know what we mean. You don't do lunch at those events expecting to find vegetarian quiche or sushi. You know what you're gonna eat was either once on hoof or on the wing, is fried, grilled, or barbecued, and is now covered in sauce and/or onions. So people just don't seem to expect to find accessorized theme dolls at a store in a car museum. Wow, who could have predicted that? Guess our soothsayer was out at a tea-leaf-reading seminar at the time.

Not that these things are ugly. Well, OK, maybe like incredibly wrinkly dogs or women bodybuilders, they're an acquired taste for the select few who long for New Coke while driving their Azteks. There is a kind of a charm in these pucker-faced little folk. Just because we suspect they come alive at night and do unspeakable things, well, that's just us and the effect of the Chucky horror film series.

Perhaps your Mrs. collects Byer's Carolers. Maybe that's a concession you've had to make to display your hunting trophies or your full-sized Sunoco gas pump. Hey, marriage is about compromise. Maybe your granny has taken to accumulating little folk and throwing elaborate seasonal tea parties for them. We have relatives who'se living room is populated by Beanie Babies. We don't sit in judgement. After all, when the house is quiet and everyone else is asleep, we sometimes take our die-cast cars out of the case and make "brooooom-brooom" noises as they cruise across the dining room table. Who are we to judge?

But if you know someone who collects these Carolers, tell 'em we have a great deal for them.... 30% off our stock till they go away. Quite the deal!

And we'll wrap 'em in plain paper for you.