TikToker (pronounced tik-tok-ah)
(1) One who is a regular or frequent viewer of the
content posted on the short-form video (which, with mission-creep, can in certain circumstances now be up to sixty (60) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com.
(2) One who is a regular or frequent content provider on
the TikTok platform.
(3) With a variety of spellings (ticktocker, tictoker,
tiktoka etc), a slang term for a clock or watch, derived from the alternating
ticking sound, as that made by a clock (archaic).
(4) In computing, with the spelling ticktocker (or ticktocker), slang for a software element which emulates the sound of a ticking clock, used usually in conjunction with digitals depictions of analogue clocks.
2018: The ancestor form (ticktock or tick-tock) seems not to have been used until the mid-nineteenth century and was purely imitative of the sound of mechanical clocks. Tick (in the sense of "a quiet but sharp sound") was from the Middle English tek (light touch, tap) and tock was also onomatopoeic; when used in conjunction with tick was a reference to the clicking sounds similar to those made by the movements of a mechanical clock. The use of TikToker (in the sense of relating to users (consumers & content providers) of the short-form video (which, with mission-creep, can be up to ten (10) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com probably began in 2018 (the first documented reference) although it may early have been in oral use. The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals. In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb. The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr. When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun. TikToker is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is TikTokers (the mixed upper & lower case is correct by commercial convention but not always followed). The PRC- (People’s Republic of China) based holding company ByteDance is said to have chosen the name “TikTok” because it was something suggestive of the “short, snappy” nature of the platform’s content; they understood the target market and its alleged attention span (which, like the memory famously associated with goldfish might be misleading).
Those who use TikTok (whether as content providers or consumers) are called “tiktokers” and the longer the aggregate duration of one’s engagement with the platform, the more of a tiktoker one can be said to be. The formation followed the earlier, self-explanatory “YouTuber” and the use for similar purposes (indicating association) for at least decades. So, the noun tiktoker can be a neutral descriptor but it can be used also as a slur. In February 2024, at the People’s Choice Awards ceremony held in Los Angeles, singer Billie Eilish (b 2001) was filmed leaning over to Kylie Minogue (b 1968), remarking sotto voce:“There’s some, like, TikTokers here…” with the sort of distaste Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen Consort of France 1774-1792) might have displayed if indicating to her companion the unpleasing presence of peasants. The clip went viral on X (formerly known as Twitter) before spreading to Tiktok. Clearly there is a feeling of hierarchy in the industry and her comments triggered some discussion about the place of essentially amateur content creators at mainstream Hollywood (and such) events. That may sound strange given a platform like TikTok would, prima facie, seem the very definition of the “people’s choice” but these events have their own history, associations and connotations and what social media sites have done to the distribution models has been quite a disturbance. Many established players, even some who have to some extent benefited from the platforms, find disquieting the intrusion of the “plague of TikTokers”.
Pop Crave's clip of the moment, a brunette Billie Eilish & Kylie Minogue, People's Choice Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, February 2024.
There will be layers to Ms Eilish’s view. One is explained in terms of mere proximity, the segregation of pop culture celebrities into “A List”, B List, C List” etc an important component in the creation and maintenance of one’s public image and an A-Lister like her would not appreciate being photographed at an event with those well up (ie down) the alphabet sitting at the next table; it cheapens her image. Properly managed, these images can translate into millions (and these days even billions) of dollars so this is not a matter of mere vanity and something for awards ceremonies to consider; if the TikTokers come to be seen as devaluing their brand to the extent the A-Listers ignore their invitations, the events either have to move to a down-market niche or just be cancelled. Marshall McLuhan’s (1911-1980) book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man (1964) pre-dates social media by decades but its best-remembered phrase (“The medium is the message”) could have been coined for the era, the idea being the medium on which content is distributed should be the first point of understanding its significance, rather than actual content, the theory being the initial assessment of the veracity or the value of something relies on its source. In the case of pop music, this meant a song distributed by a major label possessed an inherent credibility and prestige in a way something sung by a busker in a train station did not. What the existence of YouTube and TikTok meant was the buskers and the artists signed to labels began suddenly to appear on the same medium, thus at some level gaining a sort of equivalency. Viewing TikTok on a phone, tablet or laptop, sharing the same screen-space, in a sense, all are rendered equal.
On trend: Lindsay Lohan announces she is now a Tiktoker.
Ms Eilish and her label have been adept at using the social media platforms as tools for this and that so presumably neither object to the existence or the technology of the sites (although her label (Universal Music) has only recently settled its dispute with TikTok over the revenue sharing) but there will be an understanding that while there’s now no alternative to, in a sense, sharing the digital space and letting the people choose, that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about being in the same photo frame when the trophies are handed out. Clearly, there are stars and there are TikTokers and while the latter can (and have) become the former, there are barriers not all can cross.
The Tic-Toc Tach
1967 Jaguar 340 (left), 1980 Mercedes-Benz 450 SLC 5.0 (centre) and 1970 Plymouth Superbird (right). Only the Americans called the shared tachometer/clock a “Tic-Toc Tach”.
Since the inter-war years, Jaguar had included a small clock at the bottom of the tachometer but in 1966, phasing in the change as models were updated or replaced, began to move the device to the centre of the dashboard (in the case of the 420 & 420G putting it in a blister protruding from the padded molding that had replaced the timber top-rail). By 1968 the horological shift was almost complete (only the last of the Mark IIs (now known as 240, 340) and & Daimler V8 250 models still with the shared dial) and it was then Chrysler adopted the idea. An urban myth has long circulated that Chrysler, with a flair the British never showed, called the device the “Tic-Toc Tachometer” (“Tic-Toc Tach” the popular clipping). However, the term was first used by GM (General Motors) and it never appeared in anything published by Chrysler which used only the equally informative but less catchy “Electric Clock/Tach”.
Among the originality police who verity the authenticity of vehicles in the US muscle car ecosystem (1964-1974), the tachometer can be an item of interest because in some cases units with different redlines were fitted, depending on the engine specified. For example, in 1968 Chevrolet Corvettes (for restorers a quirky beast with many single-season parts), the redline for the small block V8s could be 5300 or 6000 rpm (depending on output) and for the big blocks 5600 or 6500 (the latter for the most potent). So, a mismatch between redline and engine installed is a flag a car may not have left the factory in its current form. That is of course one of many things checked by the originality police and while re-production tachometers are available, they know how to pick those and are not fooled. The only work-around for someone “creating authenticity” is to use a part-number from before or about the vehicle’s certified date of manufacture, a principle which works for most items where there’s no record of a part’s specific serial-number being associated with a particular VIN (vehicle identification number).
1967 Porsche 911S Soft Window Targa (left) and 2025 Porsche 911 Carrera T Coupe (right). The enlarged, central tachometer is still part of the Porsche shtick but the clock has now been relegated to a scalloped pod atop the dashpad.
The innovation proved proved popular and was adopted by other US manufacturers during the era, the attraction being an economical use of dash space, the clock fitting in a space at the centre of the tachometer dial which would otherwise be unused. Although in Europe and the UK the standard arrangement of a matching speedometer & tachometer directly in the driver's line-of-sight had become familiar (though Porsche and liked to make a point with a larger dial for the tachometer and giving it pride of place), in the US, until the mid-1960s tachometers tended to be obviously "add-ons" located in various places (centre consoles a favorite) and other than quirky Studebakers, and Ford's Continental Mark II (1956-1967), few got a matching pair, even the Chevrolet Corvette not joining the trans-Atlantic mainstream until the release of the C2 for 1963. Mercedes-Benz picked up Jaguar's now abandoned concept in 1971 when the 350 SL (R107, 1971-1989) was introduced and it spread throughout the range, almost universal (in cars with tachometers) after 1981 when production of the 600 (W100) ended; Mercedes-Benz would for decades use the shared instrument. A tachometer (often called a “rev counter”) is a device for measuring the revolutions per minute (RPMs) of a revolving shaft such as the crankshaft of an internal combustion engine (ICE) (thus determining the “engine speed”). The construct was tacho- (an alternative form of tachy-, from the Ancient Greek ταχύς (takhús) (rapid) + meter (the suffix from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron) (measure) used to form the names of measuring devices).
Nobody however crammed more into a tic-toc-tach than Oldsmobile which during the first generation (1964-1967) of its 4-4-2 also included a temperature gauge, ammeter and oil pressure gauge, something necessitated because the instrument panel the stylists were compelled to use contained only two pods. When the second generation (1968-1972) was released, the dash included a third pod so the ancillary gauges were given their own space and a true tic-toc-tach was used. Thankfully, nobody seems ever to have attempted to coin a term for five-function device on the early 4-4-2s so those who worry about such things must content themselves with choices like “enhanced tic-toc-tach” or “augmented tic-toc-tach”. Buyers got the instrument with its “perimeter auxiliary gauges” by choosing option code U21 (Rallye Pac with Tachometer and Clock) for US$84.26 which sounds modest but at the time the bikini-clad and neoprene-tailed “mermaids” who splashed around the coral reef in the middle of Submarine Lagoon at California’s Disneyland Resort were paid US$65 week although male full-time weekly earnings may be a better comparison and in the era (depending on the details of the calculation) they were between US$100-125. Making a virtue of necessity, Oldsmobile described the cluttered device as a “compact instrument cluster [which] lets driver monitor engine performance at a glance”, not burdening brochure readers with the fact the Rallye Pac wasn’t planned as part of the range and with only two pods on the dash, there was no other way elegantly to cram it all in.
However, while the five-purpose combo device might have impressed efficiency experts (a field in the 1960s becoming quite a science) and pleased the accountants by avoiding a costly re-design of the dash, the functionalists at Car and Driver magazine were severe in their criticism. Testing a 4-4-2 for their December 1966 edition, the editors generally were untypically lavish in their praise of a US-built car, the adoption of front disc brakes and the corporate Turbo-Hydramatic 400 automatic transmission welcomed as replacements for the obsolescent units previously used and the experience obviously was enjoyed: “The 4-4-2 is the best-handling car of its type we've ever tested, lacking the typical horrendous understeer generally found on domestic cars.”. However nothing good could be found to be said of the busy instrument in the right-hand pod, the conclusion being: “The 4-4-2's interior is pleasant but not outstanding - mainly because it's a compromise between standard F-85 pieces and someone's idea of what a GT car's dashboard should look like. It contains all the right instruments (if you specify the Rally Pack option), but they are condensed into one illegible dial flanking the speedometer on the left. In the center of this dial is the smallest tachometer we've seen on any car, with oil pressure, water temperature and ammeter gauges spread around at 120o intervals. It looks more like a chrome-spangled battlefield than a serious attempt to convey information and is totally out of keeping with the quality of the engineering features on the rest of the car.” The inclusion of a clock wasn’t mentioned; maybe it was thought just to add insult to injury and, given the critique, rating instrument legibility as “Fair” on the “Check List” must have seemed generous.
The 4-4-2 was Oldsmobile’s response to the Pontiac GTO, introduced in 1964 by the companion GM (General Motors) division. The GTO (Pontiac shamelessly “borrowing” the name from Ferrari’s 250 GTO (Gran Turismo Omologato (ie car homologated for competition in the GT (grand-touring) category) was the template for the “muscle car” genre of the 1960s in that it used a big V8 from the full-sized range in the smaller, lighter, intermediate platform. It was actually an old idea, practiced since the 1920s on both sides of the Atlantic, but the GTO institutionalized the concept and made it a commercial proposition on a scale never before known because of the then unique conjunction in 1960s America of a large cohort of males aged 17-25 with enough disposable income (or credit-worthiness) to pay for such things. The GTO existed because Pontiac threaded the configuration through a loophole in the GM corporate rules designed to prevent such things being produced for road use but it sold in such volume at a pleasing profit margin that management’s scruples rapidly were discarded and the crazy years of the muscle car era lucratively began. The GTO of course encouraged imitators from Ford, Chrysler and (eventually) even AMC but it also compelled three of GM’s other divisions (Chevrolet, Buick & Oldsmobile) to do their own interpretations. Only Cadillac stood aloof but in 1970 they did put a 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at 400 (gross) HP in the FWD (front-wheel-drive) Eldorado which sounds a daft idea but the engineers disguised its inherent tendencies very well and the delivery of the 400 HP was a very different experience than something like that of the 375 Ford in the same year modestly claimed for the Boss 429 Mustang.
Though not original, GTO was of course a great name and the best Oldsmobile’s product-planners could come up with was 4-4-2, an allusion to the configuration (front to rear) of a four barrel carburetor, a four-speed manual gearbox and dual-exhausts. Once explained it made sense but it remained a flaky name, something suffered by later imitators, Dodge’s “Super Bee” as good a car as Plymouth’s Road Runner but with nothing like the same brand-appeal. Like Pontiac’s GTO, the 4-4-2 was originally an option package but such was the market response both became regular production models. As it turned out, 4-4-2 did become “just a name” rather than a promise because in 1965 when, in order to be advertise the things at a lower base-price, a three-speed gearbox became standard with the four-speed moved to the option list but there was no 4-3-2: 4-4-2 they all remained which made sense because at various times one could be ordered with two, three or four-speed gearboxes, two, four or six-barrel induction and duel or single exhausts yet none were ever dubbed 2-3-1, 6-4-2 or any other permutation. However, in an inconsistency at the time not untypical in the industry, although in 1968 the badge was changed from “4-4-2” to “442”, both descriptions continued for years to appear in documents and sales literature.
Those who wonder how AI (artificial intelligence) bots can sometimes get answers wrong despite correct facts existing in publically accessible places on line must remember not everything represent as “fact” isn’t necessarily true. While misinformation, disinformation and such can be expected in matters such as politics, it afflicts also even the details of something as uncontroversial as the option codes used by car manufacturers during the 1960s. Despite the original source documents having for years been available on-line, it’s still sometimes repeated the Oldsmobile 442 option was listed as the RPO (Regular Production Option) B09 “Pursuit Apprehender” package. The “Police Apprehender” packages were B01 (City Apprehender) and B07 (Highway Apprehender). B09 was the RPO code for the 1964 442 package and it came with the same suspension configuration (springs, shocks, and front and rear anti-sway bars) as the B07 cars. The B09 package included a 310 HP version of the 330 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8, distinguished from the “cooking” version mostly by a high-lift camshaft and less-restrictive air cleaner. By default the B01 and B07 cars were fitted with a 290 HP version of the 330 although more powerful units could be specified and the B07 included a rear anti-sway bar. So, all things considered, AI does remarkably well in distinguishing what’s right from what’s not. The “gold standard” remains to “go back to source documents” and while that’s a simple (if time consuming) principle when dealing which physical copies, for AI bots handling digital data, it can be harder than it sounds.
Those in the rear compartment of a Maybach got their own, roof-mounted analogue clock, flanked by a speedometer and thermometer, those built for the US market calibrated respectively in miles and Fahrenheit while kilometres and Celsius were used for those sold in other places. The idea of rear passenger compartment instruments was not new and some remarkably comprehensive arrays appeared in some of the coach-built cars of the 1930s, at least one "twin cowl" phaeton having the entire dashboard replicated in the rear.
What is in English called “semantic shift” happened a bit in the industry, the 442 not the only example of the phenomenon. The first of Chrysler’s 300 “letter-series” (1955-1965) gained its name to mark the then impressive power rating of 300 HP but that was retained even as power over the years rose. The Buick Electra 225 (1959-1980) was so named because of its 225.4 (5,725 mm) length but the designation endured despite subsequent models variously shrinking or growing. In structural linguistics, the nerds call this “lexical fossilization” the numeric or descriptive element remaining but becoming remote from the original, literal meaning. This covers also the survival of terms like “tape” or “dial”; “cable” is a bit of a gray area because even wireless transmissions ultimately are dependent on miles of cabling somewhere. “Heritage names” often are used for products far removed from their legacy. Buick wasn't unique in using body length as a model description, the original Land Rover often designated by a reference to the wheelbase (eg a SWB (short wheelbase) “88” with a 88 inch (2,235 mm) wheelbase or a LWB (long wheelbase) “109” with a 109 inch (2,769 mm) wheelbase) There was also the Maybach (2002-2013) an unfortunate venture by Mercedes-Benz after the Daimler board was convinced by the MBAs what was needed was a brand-name above Mercedes-Benz, a marque which had for some 75 years proved adequate for presidents, potentates, popes and such. As a piece of engineering the Maybach was a reasonable achievement but its lacklustre sales illustrated the marketing principles (which successfully the MBAs can use for washing powder) aren’t universally applicable. It was a coincidence but, on debut, at 5.728 mm (225.5 inches) the SWB Maybach was tenth of an inch longer than the 1959 Buick Electra 225 and was designated the “57”, the metric equivalent of “225”. The LWB version, stretching to 6,165 mm (242.7 inches), was dubbed the “62”.
1953 Kaiser Manhattan (left) and 1961 Chrysler 300G (left).
Although no other manufacturer put five separate functions in the one circular pod, others did do five-function clusters in a more elaborate housing but while Kaiser just appended a semi-circular surround for the ancillary gauges (fuel-level, coolant temperature, ammeter & oil pressure) Chrysler in 1960 introduced the “Astrodome”, the name one of many influenced by what was going on during the dawn of the space-age. What the dramatic Astrodome did was offer the driver a “3D” effect by placing the four gauges in a staggered array on the steering column, using space usually taken by the transmission selector lever, that function moved to a push-button panel on the dashboard while the turn-signals were controled by a sliding lever; to complete the “space-race” look, buttons and knobs were prolific so although the ergonomics weren’t ideal, visually, the atmospherics were most fetching.
The speedometer was calibrated to 150 mph (240 km/h) which was needed because, even in street trim, the most highly-tuned 300Gs easily could exceed 140 mph (225 km/h). Despite the concerns sometimes expressed today, the tires of the era were safe to use at such speed (much had been learned from the tyres developed for use in aviation during World War II (1939-1945)) but the drum brakes of the era were inadequate.
Adding to the drama in 1960 was what Chrysler called “revolutionary Panelescent lighting” which was a fanciful term describing the use of electroluminescence (EL), an optical and electrical phenomenon, in which a material emits light in response to the passage of an electric current or to a strong electric field. As implemented for the Panelescent system, as well as the soft blue backlighting, each gauge pointer was also an individual source of red light. The Astrodome was used between 1960-1962 on a number of Chryslers including the “Letter-series” 300s and the New Yorker while EL remained in use until 1967; it was last seen on the first generation Dodge Charger (1966-1967).
Conventions in English and Ablaut Reduplication
In 2016, the BBC explained why we always say “tick-tock” rather than “tock-tick” although, based on the ticking of the clocks at the time the phrase originated, there would seem to be no objective reasons why one would prevail over the other but the “rule” can be constructed thus: “If there are three words then the order has to go I, A, O. If there are two words then the first is I and the second is either A or O which is why we enjoy mish-mash, chit-chat, clip-clop, dilly-dally, shilly-shally, tip-top, hip-hop, flip-flop, tic tac, sing song, ding dong, King Kong & ping pong. Obviously, the “rule” is unwritten so may be better thought a convention such as the one which dictates why the words in “Little Red Riding Hood” appear in the familiar order; there the convention specifies that in English, adjectives run in the textual string: opinion; size; age; shape; colour; origin; material; purpose noun. Thus there are “little green men” but no “green little men” and if “big bad wolf” is cited as a violation of the required “opinion (bad); size (big); noun (wolf)” wolf, that’s because the I-A-O convention prevails, something the BBC explains with a number of examples, concluding “Maybe the I, A, O sequence just sounds more pleasing to the ear.”, a significant factor in the evolution of much that is modern English (although that hardly accounts for the enduring affection some have for proscribing the split infinitive, something which really has no rational basis in English, ancient or modern). All this is drawn from what is in structural linguistics called “Ablaut Reduplication” (the first vowel is almost always a high vowel and the reduplicated vowel is a low vowel) but, being English, “there are exceptions” so the pragmatic “more pleasing to the ear” may be helpful in general conversation but, as a general principle, the linguistic convention operates to ensure we say “tick-tock” rather than “tock-tick”, driving the natural trochaic cadence.
“Tick-tock” is a trochee (in verse, a metrical foot containing a stressed (heavy) syllable followed by an unstressed (light) syllable) meaning in a natural form of speech more emphasis, volume, or pitch is placed on the first syllable and less on the second. Poets call this the “DUM-da” (heavy-light) rhythm; it produces a “falling” rhythm and is thus the reverse of the iamb’s “rising” rhythm. In the intricately detailed world of literary theory it’s noted that in Classical verse, trochaics were used from the time of the iambic poet Archilochus (circa 680–circa 645 BC) of the Archaic period (circa 800-480 BC) in Ancient Greece onwards, especially in drama and lyric poetry but despite the lineage (practiced also by the Romans), the technique appeared little in English verse prior to the sixteenth century when it began to be used as a stylistic device to provide variations in the iambic line, making it technically a class of “substitution”. The rarity in English verse of works composed wholly in trochaics is accounted for by the monotony induced, heavy & light lending a contrast as useful to writers as dark and light does for painters. In linguistics and psychology, “tick-tock” often is used to illustrate the Iambic-Trochaic Law. Despite a mechanical clock (or a device in which the sounds are emulated) making two structurally identical clicking sounds, instinctively the human brain filters the sequence as a trochee by perceiving the first sound as louder or more prominent.
Rolls-Royce, the Ford LTD and NVH
The “tick-tocking” sound of a clock was for some years a feature of the advertising campaigns of the Rolls-Royce Motor Company, the hook being that: “At 60 mph (100 km/h) the loudest noise in a Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock”. Motoring journalists did verify the claim (at least in ideal conditions) but given electric clocks can be engineered silently to function, the conclusion was the company deliberately fitted time-pieces which emitted an untypically loud “tick-tock”, just to ensure the claims were true. The Silver Clouds were, by the standards of the time, very quiet vehicles but in the US, Ford decided they could mass-produce something quieter still and at the fraction of the cost. Thus the 1965 Ford LTD, a blinged-up Ford (the add-on "gingerbread" in pre-bling days known as "gorp") advertised as: “Quieter than a Rolls-Royce”.
The test conditions were recorded as: “Dry, level, moderately smooth concrete divided highway; light quartering winds. All cars operated at steady 20-, 40- and 60- mph with all vents closed”. The two Rolls-Royces were both standard wheelbase Silver Cloud III saloons with the 6¼ litre (380 cubic inch) V8 and four-speed automatic transmissions while the three Fords (a Galaxie 500 LTD, a Galaxie 500/XL and a Galaxie 500 Four-Door Sedan) were all fitted with the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) V8 and three-speed Cruise-O-Matic automatic transmission. The test results were certified by the USAC (United States Auto Club).
To ensure what must at the time have seemed an audacious claim couldn't be dismissed as mere puffery, J. Walter Thompson, then Ford’s advertising agency commissioned acoustical consultants Boldt, Beranek and Neuman to run tests, two brand new Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III saloons purchased for the project. What the engineer’s decibel (dB) meters revealed was that, under conditions that were controlled but representative of much of the driving experience in the US, the Galaxies were indeed quieter inside than a Rolls-Royce. Because of the way the dB scale works, the differences (as great as 5.5 dB) were quite large and obvious to the human ear. It was a reasonable achievement in engineering and Ford, anticipating the ensuing controversy, was uncharacteristically modest in claiming their 2.8 dB advantage at 60 mph was only “slight”, the numbers making the point with no need for exaggeration. Ford didn’t mention the tick-tock of the clock.
Ford did though “stack the deck”, a bit in configuring the Galaxies with their mildly tuned 289 V8 with a two-barrel carburettor; had the test included another variation on the full-size line which used the 427 (7.0) V8, the results would have been different, the raucous 427 side oiler offering many charms but they didn't extend to unobtrusiveness. Still, the choice was reasonable because the tune of the 289 was more representative of what most people bought. Amusingly, it wasn't the first time Rolls-Royce was surprised by the way things were done in Detroit. Years earlier, the company had obtained a licence to manufacture Cadillac's four-speed Hydramatic automatic transmission, then the benchmark of its type. Disassembling one, the Rolls-Royce engineers were surprised at the “rough finish” on some of the internal components and resolved their version would be built to their standards of precision. That done, a lovingly built Hydramatic was installed in a car and tested, the engineers surprised to find it didn't work very well and offered nothing like the smooth operation of the original. They contacted Cadillac and were told the prototype Hydramatics produced with universally fine tolerances had also misbehaved and the “roughness” of certain components deliberately was introduced to ensure the optimal frictional resistance was obtained.
Not much noticed at the time was another intrusion. Although the trend had for years been creeping through the industry, what the 1965 LTD did was make blatant Ford's incursion into the market territory once reserved for the corporate stablemate, Mercury, the "middle class" brand between Ford & Lincoln. This intra-corporate cannibalism (which had already seen Chrysler shutter its DeSoto division) would have consequences, one of which was Mercury's eventual demise, another being Ford's competitors, noting the LTD's success, bringing their own interpretations to the market, the most successful of which was the Chevrolet Caprice (which enjoyed the same relationship to the Impala as the LTD had to the Galaxie 500). Notably, the Caprice contributed to the later extinction of the once highly popular Oldsmobile, squeezed from its niche by Chevrolet (from below) and Buick (from above). What were once gaps in the market, catered to by specific brands, ceased to exist.
Even before the LTD was released the full-sized cars produced by the US industry featured the world's finest engine-transmission combinations and Ford justly deserves credit for what was achieved in 1965 because it wasn’t an exercise merely in adding sound insulation. The previous models had a good reputation for handling and durability but couldn’t match the smoothness and ride of competitive Chevrolets so within Ford was created a department dedicated to what came to be called HVH (Noise, Vibration & Harshness) and this team cooperated in what would now be understood as a “multi-disciplinary” effort, working with body engineers and suspension designers to ensure all components worked in harmony to minimize NVH. The idea was to craft a platform which, at least on the billiard table like surfaces of the nations freeways, would match the powertrains for smoothness and that was a task which would absorb much time and effort because the mildly-tuned V8 engines most customers bough were unobtrusive in their delivery and the automatic transmissions didn't so much change gears as slur effortlessly between ratios.
What emerged was a BoF (Body on Frame) platform (a surprise to some as the industry trend had been towards unitary construction) to ensure the stiffest possible structure but the combination of the frame’s rubber body-mounts (which Ford dubbed "pucks" because of their similarity in size and shape to the rubber disks used in ice hockey), robust torque boxes and a new, more compliant, coil-spring rear suspension delivered what even the competition's engineers (though probably not the sales staff) acknowledged was the industry’s quietest, smoothest ride. To solve the problem of troublesome vibrations, the material had before come to the rescue, a rubber layer for the carburettor mountings proving the solution to the resonance which, at certain road speeds, affected the flow of the fuel-air mix in the MGA Twin-Cam, resulting in pistons melting. Alas, the fix was discovered too late and the MGA was doomed. Norton had better luck with their Isolastic, a rubber-based engine mounting which disguised the chronic vibration on the Commando's 750 cm3 parallel twin, allowing the company (as something of a last gasp) to extract a (sometimes profitable) decade from what was an antiquated design.
In geopolitics and economics, much changed between 1965 and 1980. Whereas Ford had once been able prove their Galaxie range (US$2,800-4,800) was quieter than a US$17,000 Rolls-Royce, by 1980 a LTD (the Galaxie name, dating from 1959 was retired after the 1974 season) sold typically for between US$6,400-8,000, reflecting the inflation which became entrenched during the 1970s. That was representative of the effect on domestically produced cars but an "entry-level" (the concept really was used even of cars from the more exulted) Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow cost a minimum US$65,000-odd and if that wasn't thought sufficiently conspicuous consumption, there was rather ungainly the two-door Camargue (1975-1986) which listed at US$148,000. That made even the blingiest (the stuff then still called "gingerbread", bling a coining from the late 1990s) LTD at US$8000 look good value although the few customers who bought Camargues (globally, barely more than 500 sold in a decade of leisurely production) probably weren't cross-shopping. Ford in the era made a bit of a thing of comparing their locally produced machines with high-priced stuff from across the Atlantic, one campaign showing how closely the US Granada (1975-1982) resembled various Mercedes-Benz and visually (if not dynamically) the company had a point... up to a point. These days it's Chinese designers who are accused of plagiarism although they often are more blatant in their copying, indeed, so shameless did things become that even the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) controlled courts granted relief to the Europeans. Reckoning however what worked in 1965 would still strike a (quiet) chord 15 years on, Ford re-ran their tests and, in a regulatory environment which was rather more exacting on advertising claims, asserted only that "The 1980 Ford LTD rides as quietly as a $65,000 Rolls-Royce". The tick-tock of the clock still didn't rate a mention.
Rolls-Royce may once have made an audible tick-tock a selling point but it’s also a part of the upper reaches of the collector market in which C2 (1963-1967) and C3 (1968-1982) Chevrolet Corvettes are traded. In that niche, it’s something of a joke if an advertisement for one of these cars is placed including the line: “The clock does not work” because it’s rare to find one that does. That’s because until the 1981 model year, every C2 & C3 Corvette came with a factory-fitted analogue, electro-mechanical clock manufactured by Borg Instruments, a spring-wound device with an electric winder. The way these worked was typical of the type in that the spring mechanism was reset once a minute, the winder dependent on a set of 12-volt contact points closing every 60 seconds, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. That's more than 525,000 open/close cycles annually and even if operating in an ideal test environment (a temperature, humidity & pressure controlled, dust-free vacuum with no movement or vibration), eventually, there would be component failure.
In the real world, these failures came sooner and with greater frequency. Operating correctly, as the contact points closed, a coil would transmit a pulse to open them, giving the device another minute of run-time, this process repeating endlessly (or until the point of failure) although, as the coil became weaker, the points did not open as widely so the run-time shortened; it was thus typical for a Corvette’s clock to become inaccurate before it stopped and even without looking at the dial, the mechanism’s health could be assessed by timing the duration between clicks as the coil reset the winder. Of course, this being a Corvette, unlike a Rolls-Royce, this could be heard only when the engine was not running. The Borg analogue instrument can be serviced and unless any parts physically are broken, in most cases cleaning with isopropyl alcohol and then lubricating the movement should restore the functionality although these clocks are now many decades old and further failures are inevitable. Similar devices were used for many cars in the era but it seems only the Corvette community in which such interest is taken.
Servicing or repairing a Borg is undertaken if the Corvette is especially valuable and in otherwise original configuration. Otherwise, the usual (and often cheaper) course is to use a reproduction clock with a quartz movement. Visually, the look from within the cockpit is identical and the only difference (other than improved accuracy and reliability) is the second hand “silently sweeps” rather than “audibly ticks”. That, few would notice but the originality police judging cars at shows do have a “clock” section on their clipboards and for Corvettes which left the factory with a Borg, a “tick-tock” will attract another valuable tick. Chevrolet in 1981 did replace the Borg with a quartz device so for Corvettes built subsequently, the clock section on the clipboard is shorter. Cars with rare “radio delete option” or with either of the analogue radios (AM/FM mono or the optional AM/FM stereo) continued to have a clock in the lower pod opening in the central gauge cluster while those any of the four ETR radios (AM/FM Stereo 8-Track, AM/FM Stereo 8-Track with CB Radio, AM/FM Stereo Cassette, & AM/FM Stereo Cassette with CB Radio) had the time reported by a digital readout on the radio’s faceplate, an oil temperature gauge in the lower left pod. In a final horological C3 footnote, for the model's swansong seasons (1981-1982), the clock in the console pod received on its face the notation “QUARTZ” in bold white letters. In truth, time had some years earlier caught up with the C3 but the new clock was a reassuring touch of modernity.
For 1977, the ammeter had been replaced with a voltmeter but more obvious was a restyling of the gauge housings, the pods no longer circular but now a “circle with a flattened base”. Curiously, despite mathematicians over the centuries having given a name to just about every basic shape imaginable, there seems to be no standard geometric term for a “circle with a flattened base” although obviously, because a circle is defined as “a shape in which all points are equally distant from the centre”, once part of the circumference is replaced by a straight line, the figure is no longer a circle. Technically (if clumsily), such a “truncated circle” would seem properly to be a “circular segment cut off by a chord” but that's words so engineers and architects resort usually to “chord-flat circle”. It seems a strange omission from the lexicon of geometry because, in the real world, the shape often is used for certain tubes, ducts, pipes and such. When a flat side appears with a half-circle, in design, that’s a “D-shape”; strictly speaking that should be applied only if used with a “true” half-circle in which the straight line is the diameter although, in casual use, there’s likely a bit of leeway.
Physics makes it not possible to make a Corvette’s electro-mechanical clock as reliable or accurate as a quartz unit but Zip-Corvette can supply all the parts to convert an original to a quartz movement and Corvette Magazine published the instructions.
Whether the appearance of four truncated circles and one circle within the one housing disturbed some seems never to been a topic of discussion in the on-line Corvette forums which is unusual given every other aspect of the now almost 75 year old line has been analysed, discussed and squabbled over. It’s an urban myth those with OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) all are bothered by things being asymmetrical or aesthetically inconsistent for while the most recent edition (DSM-5-TR (2022)) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders does not classify the condition as a spectrum condition, it does in a specific diagnostic chapter note a variety of manifestations. That may include a heightened sensitivity to visual irregularities but that’s experienced also by those thought “perfectionists” and is thus not OCD-specific although the condition is associated with individuals highly attentive to patterns and consistency. So, there would be those diagnosed with OCD not at all concerned by the asymmetry (because their condition manifests in other aspects) while it would annoy some without OCD just because they don’t like the look. It’s likely there would have been owners who for some time didn’t notice the different shape of the clock’s pod because, “at first glance”, as a product of culturally-defined expectation, human vision would tend to see “round gauges” although, once recognized, the variation would be obvious. That however is a documented perceptual phenomenon and unrelated to OCD.
Of course, those suffering trypophobia (a morbid aversion to closely packed holes) won't like the C3's gauge cluster regardless of the shape of the pods. The construct of trypophobia was from the Ancient Greek τρῦπα (trûpa) (hole) or τρυπάω (trupáō) (bore), + -phobia φόβος (phóbos) (fear, phobia); first seen on the internet in 2005, not all in the field accept it as a “real” condition. Doubtless it’s rare but to be a syndrome, something need not be widespread; just a single patient is enough for a condition to be defined. For those wondering if they may be sufferers, Healthline lists possible symptoms as goose-bumps, chills, or the sensation of your skin crawling; gagging or nausea; sweating; rapid heartbeat; dizziness or light-headedness; visual discomfort, including eye strain, distortions, or illusions; a general sense of discomfort or distress; a strong desire to get away from the image or object; feelings of panic or a panic attack; shaking or trembling. If, upon one’s first encounter with a C3 Corvette’s gauge cluster, at least some of these symptoms appear, one may be a trypophobe.
