In this post, I reckoned it would be hilarious to turn up to a Cougar meet in a different generation of Mercury Cougar.
I still think it would be, but it's been a long time since I was near one up close... and after doing so on Saturday with a 1978 3rd Generation, I have to question whether even the expense of the joke is worth the horrendous experience that owning a 1970s era US car imposes on you.
Jesus, will you just look at that?
Quick history lesson for the two or three of you that don't know: Ford were doing the "same car but premium brand" thing long before Toyota ever thought of Lexus. You had Ford (everyman transport and muscle-necked pony cars), Mercury, ("personal sports") and Lincoln, (luxury). There was a significant crossover in chassis/platform between them.
So your 8th Generation New-Edge Cougar is "just" a Mondeo, but every Cougar before that was also based on a standard Ford platform. The first Cougars were Mustangs. Later ones like the one in the picture there, were Thunderbirds.
Anyway, I grew up in Florida and so my family had American cars. But my grandmother went straight from sporty Pontiacs to sedate Cadillacs and then Lincolns. My parents had Camaros. So this idea of "Personal Sports" passed me by in the same way that the UK Ford Escort did as an 11-year old arriving in the UK in 1984. I just didn't "get" them and didn't see the appeal.
Before you fall asleep, here's some Mustangs:
So you were paying a premium for a car that was detuned, wallowy, asthmatic and in many ways worse than the car it was derived from (depending on your definition of what a good car is I suppose). The driver experience was supposed to be enhanced by the deep pile carpets and the complex, guage-filled interiors, but all they served to do was destroy your hoover and divert your attention from the back end of the artic you were about to hit. And when you did, the steering wheel would probably be the thing that killed you when it shattered and pierced your sternum:
The owner of this car (it's running a Cleveland V8) says that every year, the MOT tester has to lean off the carbs to the point where it's undrivable just to get it through the emissions requirements for cars of that era. Eight cylinders, 6.6L, and 158BHP. Detuned to just over 100BHP just for the test, to move a car that weighs...oh, I don't know...around 4400lbs? Basically, the weight and power profile of the Cougar over the years has pretty much followed Oprah Winfrey's bathroom scales, and during the late 70s and early 80s was completely ridiculous. A car just waiting for a heart attack on all the fuel it was guzzling.
All that said, it's a classically handsome piece of Americana if you like that sort of thing. A lazy, easy drive with enormou...okay, easy torque on demand from a very capable and robust powerplant. A product of its time, when the idea of the personal luxo-barge - which the Americans didn't see this as - was long dead. A Tricerotops grazing a scorched field with little curiosity about what that bright light in the sky and the enormous bang was all about.
But I still love it. I spent more time harassing the owner of this idiotic beast than any other car in the show. Like most specialist car owners his passion showed through and he was happy to talk about it. It does maybe 2000 miles a year, is only used for shows, and he wouldn't part with it for all the money you could offer him. And I respect that immensely because I recognise the love.
I still think it would be, but it's been a long time since I was near one up close... and after doing so on Saturday with a 1978 3rd Generation, I have to question whether even the expense of the joke is worth the horrendous experience that owning a 1970s era US car imposes on you.
Jesus, will you just look at that?
Quick history lesson for the two or three of you that don't know: Ford were doing the "same car but premium brand" thing long before Toyota ever thought of Lexus. You had Ford (everyman transport and muscle-necked pony cars), Mercury, ("personal sports") and Lincoln, (luxury). There was a significant crossover in chassis/platform between them.
So your 8th Generation New-Edge Cougar is "just" a Mondeo, but every Cougar before that was also based on a standard Ford platform. The first Cougars were Mustangs. Later ones like the one in the picture there, were Thunderbirds.
Anyway, I grew up in Florida and so my family had American cars. But my grandmother went straight from sporty Pontiacs to sedate Cadillacs and then Lincolns. My parents had Camaros. So this idea of "Personal Sports" passed me by in the same way that the UK Ford Escort did as an 11-year old arriving in the UK in 1984. I just didn't "get" them and didn't see the appeal.
Before you fall asleep, here's some Mustangs:
So you were paying a premium for a car that was detuned, wallowy, asthmatic and in many ways worse than the car it was derived from (depending on your definition of what a good car is I suppose). The driver experience was supposed to be enhanced by the deep pile carpets and the complex, guage-filled interiors, but all they served to do was destroy your hoover and divert your attention from the back end of the artic you were about to hit. And when you did, the steering wheel would probably be the thing that killed you when it shattered and pierced your sternum:
The owner of this car (it's running a Cleveland V8) says that every year, the MOT tester has to lean off the carbs to the point where it's undrivable just to get it through the emissions requirements for cars of that era. Eight cylinders, 6.6L, and 158BHP. Detuned to just over 100BHP just for the test, to move a car that weighs...oh, I don't know...around 4400lbs? Basically, the weight and power profile of the Cougar over the years has pretty much followed Oprah Winfrey's bathroom scales, and during the late 70s and early 80s was completely ridiculous. A car just waiting for a heart attack on all the fuel it was guzzling.
All that said, it's a classically handsome piece of Americana if you like that sort of thing. A lazy, easy drive with enormou...okay, easy torque on demand from a very capable and robust powerplant. A product of its time, when the idea of the personal luxo-barge - which the Americans didn't see this as - was long dead. A Tricerotops grazing a scorched field with little curiosity about what that bright light in the sky and the enormous bang was all about.
But I still love it. I spent more time harassing the owner of this idiotic beast than any other car in the show. Like most specialist car owners his passion showed through and he was happy to talk about it. It does maybe 2000 miles a year, is only used for shows, and he wouldn't part with it for all the money you could offer him. And I respect that immensely because I recognise the love.
