Knob

Knob (pronounced nob)

(1) A projecting part, usually rounded, forming the handle of a door, drawer window-frame or the like.

(2) A (usually) ball-shaped part of a handle, lever etc, designed to be grasped by the hand.

(3) In machinery, an almost always rounded control switch that can be rotated on it axis (ie to turn on/off, raise/lower volume etc), designed to be operated by the fingers and visually also emulated in software on screens.

(4) A rounded lump or protuberance on the surface or at the end of something, as a knot on a tree trunk or a fleshy lump or caruncle.

(5) A rounded ornament on the hilt of an edged weapon (the pommel).

(6) In architecture, furniture design etc, an ornamental boss, as of carved work.

(7) In geography, a rounded hill, mountain, a knoll, an elevation on a ridge or morainic ridge.

(8) In botany, a bulb of the garlic plant consisting of multiple cloves in a chunky branch,

(9) In certain military and other institutions, a new recruit.

(10) In hunting & animal husbandry (as knobber), a hart in its second year; a young male deer.

(11) In cooking, a dollop, an amount just larger than a spoonful (used usually in reference to butter and in professional catering there are “butter curlers” which produce an attractive ribbed-curl of butter to be served with the bread-rolls, each curl said to be the equivalent of a “half dollop”.

(12) In slang, the head, thus a person with red hair being a “gainer knob”.

(13) In vulgar slang the head (glans (spongiosum)) of the penis but sometimes used of the whole organ, thus the slang “knobhead” (an unintelligent or contemptible person) and a “literal” synonym of “dickhead”), sometimes used in the forms “knobber” & “knobber”.

(14) In vulgar slang (by extension), to have sexual intercourse with (someone).

(15) In vulgar slang (usually in the plural), a woman's breasts (sometimes with a modifier thought appropriate to the anatomy specifically being referenced).

(16) In vulgar slang, the clitoris.

(17) To produce a knob on (an object).

(18) To furnish with a knob, typically for a functional purpose (adding one to a door, window frame etc) but also as an ornament.

(19) To turn an object into a knob (rare).

(20) In stone cutting, to knock off (excess stone) preparatory to dressing; to knobble; to skiffle.

1350–1400: From the Middle English knobe & knobbe, thought almost certainly from a Scandinavian or German source and probably at least influenced by the Middle Low German knubbe & knobbe (knob; knot in wood; bud), the Middle Dutch knobbe & cnoppe, the Dutch knop (knob, button, bud), the Old Frisian knopp & knapp, the Old High German knopf (bud, pommel of a sword, knot, loop), the Middle High German knospe, the German Knopf (button, knob) & Knospe (bud), the Danish knap (button) & knop (knob, button, bud) and the Old Norse knyfill (short horn).  Most etymologists seem most convinced by it being a variant of the Proto-Germanic knappô (knob, lump) & knuppô (lump, clod), both among the “kn-” words related to knudaną (to knead).  Probably related were the Middle English knap & knappe (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, tassel, tuft etc”), hill, hilltop etc)), from the Old English cnæp & cnæpp (summit, top), which may in some way be linked with the Old Norse knappr (small projection, knob (in the sense of “button, head of a stick etc”)) (and from which English gained knop), the source again the Proto-Germanic knappô.  The meaning “knoll, isolated round hill” seems first to have appeared in the 1640s and, perhaps surprisingly, no instance of “doorknob” has been found prior to 1829 although the word may have been long in oral use (drawer-knob, window-knob etc all followed).  Knob is a noun & verb, knobless is a noun, knobbed & knobbing are verbs, knoblike & knobby are adjectives; the noun plural is knobs.

Yorkeys Knob, Cairns, Queensland, Australia.

In idiomatic use, the phrase “same to you with knobs (sometimes “brass knobs”) means “the same to you but even more so” (used typically in response to an insult or slight).  A “knob-twiddler” can be an informal term for a technician or console operator whose job entails adjusting electronic devices via knobs but it can also describe anyone whose role seems either unimportant or not particularly demanding.  As machinery and later electronics became an increasingly ubiquitous part of life, so did knobs and as early as the late nineteenth century the humorous “knobologist” had been coined to describe both those designing the system and the “knob-twiddlers” using them; the discipline of design was of course dubbed “knobology” and that remains a core component of ergonomics, exploring imperatives such as placement, size, tactility and labelling, all of which influence the functionality of controls on an instrument as relevant to their application.  The knobologists deeply were implicated in convenient physical switches, knobs and buttons disappearing from cars and re-imagined virtualizations on inconvenient touch-screens.  Such has been the reaction (including the realization the change made driving more accident prone) that the tactile controls are making a welcome comeback.  The now archaic “knob-thatcher” was an affectionate term for a maker of wigs while the more modern “surfer's knob” was slang from the sport, describing a hard bump or nodule on a surfer's knee, shin or ankle, resulting from recurrent contact with their surfboard.  In engineering and metallurgy, “to knobble” was (1) to render a surface with a knobbly finish and (2) to produce wrought iron by treating semi-refined puddled iron on a hearth before shingling, a specialized device in the business being the ominous sounding “knobbling furnace”.

Gay men supporting lesbians at the first “Dyke March”, Washington DC, April 1993.  The sign held by the protester at the far left uses the compound word for which the euphemisms “knob polisher” & “knob-gobbler” were coined.

Because knob was popular slang for penis, a number of derived terms predictably emerged.  A “knob polisher” or “knob-gobbler” was “one who gives fellatio”.  “Knob rot” was a reference to certain sexually transmitted diseases contracted by men, the acute condition “galloping knob rot” describing a rapidly progressing or uncontrollable variant of the condition.  A “knob job” was the act of fellatio.  “Knob cheese” (the terms “cock cheese”, “dick cheese” and (in context) even “cheese”) was vulgar slang for smegma (a whitish sebaceous secretion that collects between the glans penis and foreskin or in the vulva).  “Knob jockey” must however be used with care because it has variously been applied to (1) gay men, (2) promiscuous straight women and (3) promiscuous straight men; context thus matters.

Interior of Porsche 917K with cool (in both senses of the word) balsa-wood shift knob.  The obviously "fake" passenger bucket seat was installed to comply with the rules in sports car racing.

To this day, the myth persists the balsa-wood gear-shift knob used in the Porsche 917 was there as a “weight-saving measure”.  While it’s true the small knob was light, the difference between it and the aluminum or magnesium units the company had fitted to earlier race cars would have been so insignificant it’s doubtful it would have equalled a gulp of coffee the driver may or may not have enjoyed.  The stylish timber piece was however not a decorative flourish but a legitimate engineering solution to ameliorate one manifestation of “chronic heat soak”.  In 1969, the 917 was a radical advance which, Dreadnought-like, rendered all other cars in its class instantly obsolescent but the flat-12 engine (Porsche’s first in the configuration) radiated so much heat it was difficult to manage.  In a tradition it would not for decades abandon, Porsche continued to use air-cooling for the engine (which really means “oil cooled” about as much) and it ran hot; between that heat source and the gear level was a unbroken metal path, each component a most efficient conductor.  During endurance racing (some events conducted over 24 hours), cockpit temperatures could reach what doctors would rate as “extreme”.  The metal lever was just one of the sources of this heat and the knob (which sat next to the driver’s knee) needed to be grasped by the driver, often many times a minute; were it to become so hot it caused pain, it would have been safety issue.  Although in 1969 the space-age was at its zenith, the materials which could have made a driver’s gloves close to heat-proof were not then commercially available so they gained much of their protective quality from thickness but the problem was they could be only so thick because a driver needed still to handle a highly-geared steering wheel and operate the many knobs and switches within arm’s reach.  Balsa-wood, with its very low thermal conductivity was ideal because while not exactly cool to the touch after a few hours on the track, it never got so hot it felt unpleasant.  It also had adequate strength for its task; a gear-lever knob does not bear structural loads and, being Porsche, it received the same careful attention as every other component, each one precisely machined to exact dimensions before receiving two coats of clear lacquer.  Most variants of the 917 used the Balsa-wood part although when (as the “Turbo-panzers”) the most powerful of the breed appeared in the Can-Am (for Group 7, unlimited displacement sports cars) a metal knob was fitted, made possible because Group 7 was for open cars and significantly that reduced cabin temperatures.  By the late 1970s when the space age had made available materials (phenolic plastics, composites etc) with superior insulation qualities, the need to resort to a balsa-wood knob vanished but the visual appeal remained and in the aftermarket, 917-style knobs remain widely available.

1959 Ford Fairlane Galaxie 500 Sunliner with suicide knob (on steering wheel at 10 o'clock).

“Suicide knob” was the most popular name for the device attached to a vehicle’s steering wheel which facilitated easier “single arm steering”.  The idea dated from the days before the almost universal fitting of power-steering and the things became popular in the US in the US in the 1950s and 1960s as even low-priced cars became heavier; for some drivers, they were invaluable when manoeuvring at low speed, especially when reversing.  They were known also as the “necker knob”, “wheel spinner” and “granny knob” but the most correct term was “Brodie Knob”, the name in honor of Steve Brodie (1861–1901), an apparently rather raffish gentleman from New York City who, as a last resort in 1886 after losing everything gambling, staged a stunt in which he jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge (site of a good many suicides), the lure a sum of money he was bet although the details of that are murky.  Mr Brodie anyway survived to collect on the wager and, on the basis of the notoriety gained, began performing other dare-devil acts for even more money.  So the jump from the Brooklyn Bridge was a good career move although the consensus now is it was a cunning stunt (ie a scam), a weighted dummy the real diver with Mr Brodie entering the water from the safety of the shoreline.  In fairness, at least some of his subsequent dangerous stunts were verified by observation and he parlayed his fame into a successful career in business, becoming a noted philanthropist and dying a rich man.

The invention of the suicide knob generally is credited to Joel Thorp of Wisconsin but similar devices had for centuries been in use on land and water.  What Mr Thorpe described in the supporting documents for what was issued as US Patent 2,101,519 STEERING WHEEL SPINNER KNOB (Dec 7, 1937) was an “improvement” of the concept:

“The present invention relates generally to improvements in appliances for facilitating manipulation of the steering wheels of vehicles, and relates more specifically to improvements in the construction and operation of spinner knob attachments co-operable with the peripheral rims of steering wheels or the like in order to effect more convenient and rapid operation of such wheels under certain conditions of use.  Generally defined, an object of my present invention is to provide an improved steering wheel spinner knob which is simple in construction and highly efficient in use.”

A young lady wrapping practiced fingers around the timber shift knob in 1970 Maserati Indy (Tipo 116, 1969-1975).  In the era, it was fashionable in Italian exotica for the knob and steering wheel rim to match (ie in leather or wood).

Although widely used on tractors, heavy transport vehicles and such, it was in the 1950s as cars in the US became heavier the suicide knobs gained popularity and some of that was due to reasons Mr Thorp probably never envisaged.  One receptive market was males aged 17-25 (a crew infamous for many reasons) who found the combination of suicide knob and bench seat made an idea ecosystem, enabling one hand to be used steer the vehicle while the "free" arm could wrap around the girlfriend (or alternative) who affectionately was resting her head on the driver’s shoulder.  In this arrangement, a driver’s attention more easily could be divided between her and the road.  It was also males aged 17-25 who were the core of the hot-rod community which began as a West Coast phenomenon (induced by a critical mass of the right demographic, available disposable income and a good supply of cheap, used cars which easily could be modified as desired) and they found suicide knobs the best way to “do a half donut” (a spin of one’s hot rod through 180^o), the trick being to grip the knob and then suddenly turn the wheel while applying full throttle, resulting in a loud, spectacular maneuver, made the more pleasing for the driver by him having “left his mark” in strips of runner on the road.  This, the hot rodders called “spinning a brodie”, a variant on the earlier “doing a Brodie” (a dangerous or otherwise inadvisable act) which entered the language after the nation-wide publicity which followed Mr Brodie’s alleged leap from the Brooklyn Bridge.  In the era, a Brodie Knob was as essential a piece of equipment as one’s packet of unfiltered Camel cigarettes or pair of fluffy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror.

1962 Maserati 3500 GTi.  Some Maserati 3500 GTs (Tipo 101, 1957-1964) had the unusual feature of having front and rear quarter-vents fitted to the same door; they were opened and closed using knurled, stainless steel knobs.

The dark appellation “suicide knob” was bestowed because (1) the devices came to be associated with accident-prone drivers (the “males aged 17-25” cohort prominent in the statistics) who probably did use the things to engage in “risk-taking” and (2) by virtue of their location (by default affixed to the upper quadrant) on the wheel, they were a genuine danger in accidents and, in an era of non-collapsible steering columns, tales of them penetrating the eye socket, causing irreparable loss of vision and traumatic brain injury, were legion.  The crusading US lawyer Ralph Nadar (b 1934) is criticized for much but the contribution his book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) made to reducing the death toll on the roads cannot be under-estimated and the effect was world-wide because the rest the industry eventually followed the lead of the US legislation which came in the book’s wake.  In the US and elsewhere, change was of course resisted but it came and while it’s not possible to estimate how many deaths and often gruesome injuries the reforms prevented, no one denies it’s a big number.  The suicide knob was one minor casualty of the movement and in road-registered vehicles, in most jurisdictions (although some US states remain permissive), such devices are permitted only for specialized (often low-speed) vehicles and if used by drivers with some disability which precludes the use of conventional controls.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

Another to make a life-saving contribution to reducing the road told was George Hurst (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company) whose great legacy to humanity was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of its use isn’t known but again, it would be a big number.

Two decades of progress: Shifter for the two-speed Powerglide automatic transmission in 1953 Chevrolet Corvette (left) and a classic spherical shift knob in 1972 Chevrolet Corvette LT1.  The delicate-looking shifter in the 1953 Corvette seems modest but the location was a world-first for an automatic and was efficient because the location (between the driver’s seat and transmission tunnel) provided the shortest possible path to the linkage.  As late as 1964, Chrysler used a similar apparatus in the 1964 300K.

However, before the Jaws of Life, Hurst was already famous in the vibrant sub-culture which was at the times also known for its propensity to purchase and install suicide knobs.  Hurst produced “shifters” which were the assemblies connected to a transmission, used by the driver to “change gears” and they proved instantly popular which may seem strange given every manufacturer at the time included a shifter with every vehicle.  However, beginning in the late 1930s, the US manufacturers had begun moving from centrally located, floor-mounted levers to units on the steering column because it made for better packaging efficiency in the cabins, then optimized for bench-seats with three-astride seating.  That move achieved the goal but with the linkage between lever and gear-changing mechanism now longer and making more turns, some precision in the shifting was lost and column shifting (the once almost universal “three on the tree”) was less conducive to an enthusiastic driving style (such as that of the “suicide knob equipped” crowd).  It was in the 1950s the taste for floor-shifts like those in European sports cars began to gain critical mass and even though the 1953 Chevrolet Corvette was hardly a sports car in the tradition of MGs, Fiats and such, it’s notable Chevrolet from the start installed a floor shift for the (two-speed!) Powerglide automatic transmission; it may not have been a sports car with a “four-on-the-floor” but it had a floor-shift so there was that.  Automatic transmissions in mass-produced cars was then something of a novelty barely a decade old and the Corvette’s floor shift was apparently a world-first.

A butter curler producing curls.  Generally, the curlers come in large and small, respectively producing a curl notionally equivalent to a dollop or a knob (half-dollop).  In the kitchen however, knobs and dollops are what the chef decides they are.

Four-speed manual transmissions began to appear in Detroit-made cars in the late 1950s and within half a decade George Hurst’s shifters were close to obligatory for any racer (authorized or not) seeking “street cred” and it wasn’t a confected image, the Hurst shifters demonstratively superior without being excessively expensive.  So stellar did their reputation become even GM (General Motors) relaxed their long-standing ban on other brand-names being associated with their products and made a feature of one being standard equipment of the 1964 Pontiac GTO, the car credited with being “the first muscle car” and such was the success in 1965 the shifter’s handle was even permitted to be embossed: HURST.  Soon, other manufacturers actively were seeking co-productions.  George Hurst’s path to market domination was shockingly simple and might have come from a textbook: (1) a perfected design, (2) skilful engineering in development, (3) high quality in production and (4) an attractive price, a combination of elements with great appeal for buyers and manufacturers alike.

Hurst’s dual-gate automatic transmission “His and Hers” shifter with conventional apparatus “for the automatic minded little lady” and a performance-oriented configuration offering manual control for the “man who really wanted a 4-speed standard stick but bought this extra just for her.”  Note the unfamiliar shift pattern, the now universal PRNDL not an industry standard until 1965, the year before it was demanded by regulations.  From the early days of automatic transmissions in the 1940s, reverse had been directly adjacent to Low, allowing drivers more easily to emulate what was done with manual transmissions when a “rocking” was being induced to try to free a vehicle from mud or snow.  It was a quirk of the age and, because reliability was not then what decades later came to be expected, the early transmissions included a second (rear) fluid pump to permit push/tow/hill starts.  Probably, not many much dwelt on the shape of the knob Hurst put atop the His and Hers” shifter but in geometry it would be described as an oblate spheroid with two parallel planar truncations.  Now easily modelled in software rendered with a 3D printer, perfecting a shape like this for production used to absorb much time on the drawing board and in the creation of prototypes.  A spheroid is an ellipsoid generated by rotating an ellipse about one of its principal axes which, if “stretched” along one axis becomes a prolate spheroid (ie elongated and something like a rugby ball).  If slightly flattened along the axis of rotation, it’s an oblate spheroid (like planet Earth which isn’t quite a pure sphere) but the His & Hers knob, having a slight elongation along the shifter’s axis, is closest to a prolate spheroid.  The planar-truncation (ie sliced by two parallel planes) created the (left & right) flat faces and the knob can thus be described as a “truncated ellipsoid” or “truncated prolate spheroid” but anyone wishing to out-nerd the rest would probably coin something like “biaxial ellipsoid with parallel planar truncations”.

It was early in the era of second-wave feminism (1960s-1980s) that George Hurst made his brief foray into marriage guidance counselling.  First-wave feminism (1895-1950s) is sometimes called the “de jure” or “structural” period because the focus was on legal issues such as women's suffrage, property rights and political candidacy but, in the West, an early victory was overcoming any opposition to women being granted driver’s licences.  Attitudes however evolved not wholly in parallel with legal rights and even today, among some, the view persists it’s men who are focused on performance and speed while women value vehicles using other criteria.  Impressionistically, that stereotype is not wholly without foundation but, since second wave feminism reset the rules, it’s no longer possible to run advertising perpetuating the notion.  The “His and Hers” shifter worked with a key-lock which enabled the husband to ensure only he could use the “manual override” feature and the idea in recent decades has been revived although this time the target of the lockout includes one’s (presumably male) children and any concierge or attendant who might be entrusted with parking one’s car.

Advertisement for Hurst's "custom knobs" (left) and the famous Hurst "pistol grip shifter" in 1970 Plymouth 'Cuda 440+6 (ie 3 x 2bbl carburetors) (right).

The magic of Hurst’s shifters was in the mechanism but, just as for computer users the mouse and keyboard assume great importance because it’s by touching these relatively simple pieces of hardware that use can be made of the machine’s more sophisticated internals, it was the shifter’s knob which was a driver’s most intimate connection with the transmission.  Although in the art deco era there had been some lovely detailing, it wasn’t until the 1960s most conceptually moved beyond beyond “variations on a theme of sphere” and Hurst was among the manufacturers to explore shapes and substances.  There were “T-Handles” (which, usually as "T-Bars", were for decades popular around the world for automatics) and “Horseshoes” which attracted admiring glances but didn’t catch on and any number of novelty items including billiard balls (the “8 ball” predictably a favourite of the V8 crowd) and scale models of this and that including human body parts such as the skull and mammary gland.  Knobs could be of plastic, wood or various metals and came in designer colors, velvet coatings a nice touch of the 1960s.  The most fetishized of the muscle car era however was Hurst’s “Pistol Grip Shifter” which did what it said on the tin: it gave the user the feeling of holding a handgun.  In the 1960s, gun culture in the US hadn’t yet become what it is today (as now defined, the first “mass-shooting” didn’t happen until 1966) but it was still a place with a lot of firearms.  However, despite the potential implications, when in 1970 Chrysler made one standard equipment on the 1970 Plymouth ‘Cuda, one brochure made mention of the device only with the bland: “...a convenient pistol grip”.  For a corporation which called the Cuda’s hood scoop the I.Q.E.C.A.G. (Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber), it seemed a missed opportunity though they didn’t have much linguistic luck with I.Q.E.C.A.G., customers and everybody else deciding it was a “shaker”.

Ginger knob Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap, approaching 23 Egerton Terrace (tagged 7 for the film), Knightsbridge, SW3, London (the front door with a knob, left) and standing next to a door with a handle (right), from a photo-shoot by Rebecca Lader.

Architecturally, the choice between specifying door levers or door knobs is often one of mere preference or aesthetic conformity but for public or commercial buildings, some regulatory authorities now mandate the use of levers because typically they are easier to use for those with disabilities (especially if hand-mobility is limited) as they demand less dexterity.  Additionally, being circular and often highly polished, knobs can be hard to use with wet hands so that’s a consideration in kitchens, bathrooms and such; nor do young children find them as convenient as a handle.  So, all that would seem to make a compelling case for the handle but for domestic use, there’s one quirky consideration some may wish to include when making the choice.  While there are verified cases of cats and dogs learning to open doors using a handle, no pet has yet been observed mastering the turning of a door knob; while a rare problem, the chance of one’s cat or dog opening door using a lever is not zero and, because houses tend to use the same style of lever throughout, once they have learned to open one door, they’ve really learned to open all.  If it’s a concern, the good news is most doors are adaptable for either so replacing a lever with a knob does not usually require the door being replaced.

Superbird

Superbird (pronounced soo-per-burd)

(1) A single-season (1970) version of the Plymouth Road Runner with certain aerodynamic enhancements, built to fulfil homologation requirements for use in competition.

(2) A one-off Falcon XA GT built by Ford Australia for the motor show circuit in 1973.

(3) A series of 700-odd XA Falcon Hardtops (RPO77) built by Ford Australia in 1973.

1969: The construct was super + bird.  The Middle English super was a re-purposing of the prefix super-, from the Latin super, from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above) and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér).  In this context, it was used as an adjective suggesting “excellent quality, better than usual; wonderful; awesome, excellent etc.  Bird was from the Middle English bird & brid, from the Old English bridd (chick, fledgling, chicken).  The origin was a term used of birds that could not fly (chicks, fledglings, chickens) as opposed to the Old English fugol (from which English gained the modern “fowl”) which was the general term for “flying birds”.  From the earlt to mid-fourteenth century, “bird” increasingly supplanted “fowl” as the most common term.  Superbird is a noun; the noun plural is Superbirds and an initial capital is appropriate for all (standard) uses because Superbird is a product name.  If used as hoc for some other purposes, it should probably be without the initial capital.

Of super- and supra-

The super- prefix was a learned borrowing of the Latin super-, the prefix an adaptation of super, from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above) and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér).  It was used to create forms conveying variously (1) an enhanced sense of inclusiveness, (2) beyond, over or upon (the latter notable in anatomy where the a super-something indicates it's "located above"), (3) greater than (in quantity), (4) exceptionally or unusually large, (5) superior in title or status (sometimes clipped to "super"), (6) of greater power or potency, (7) intensely, extremely or exceptional and (8) of supersymmetry (in physics).  The standard antonym was “sub” and the synonyms are listed usually as “on-, en-, epi-, supra-, sur-, ultra- and hyper-” but both “ultra” and “hyper-” have in some applications been used to suggest a quality beyond that implied by the “super-” prefix.  In English, there are more than a thousand words formed with the super- prefix.  The supra- prefix was a learned borrowing from the Latin suprā-, the prefix an adaptation of the preposition suprā, from the Old Latin suprād & superā, from the Proto-Italic superād and cognate with the Umbrian subra.  It was used originally to create forms conveying variously (1) above, over, beyond, (2) greater than; transcending and (3) above, over, on top (in anatomy thus directly synonymous with super) but in modern use supra- tends to be differentiated in that while it can still be used to suggest “an enhanced quality or quantity”, it’s now more common for it to denote physical position or placement in spatial terms.

Superbirds of the northern & southern hemispheres

1969 Dodge Daytona (red) & 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird (blue).

The Plymouth Superbird was a "homologation special" built only for the 1970 model year.  By the mid-1950s, various race categories sanctioned by NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) had become popular with both competitors and audiences, something which induced the manufacturers, more or less openly, to provide resources to the teams running their products.  This had started modestly enough with the supply of parts and technical assistance but so tied up with prestige did success become that some created competition departments and, officially and not, ran teams or provided so much financial support that effectively they functioned as factory operations.  NASCAR had begun as a "stock" car series in the literal sense that the first cars used were "showroom stock" with only minimal modifications but that didn't last long, cheating soon rife and in the interests of spectacle (ie higher speeds and thus more crashes), certain "performance enhancements" were permitted although the rules were always intended to maintain the original spirit of using cars which were "close" to those sold from the showroom floor.

Lindsay Lohan, as a superbird: generative AI (artificial intelligence) rendering by Stable Diffusion.

Despite NASCAR's efforts, the cheating didn't stop although the teams became more adept in its practice and one model produced by Chrysler's Dodge division typified the way manufactures worked within the homologation rules to game the system.  The rules (having to build and sell a minimum number of a certain model in that specification) had been intended to restrict the use of cars to “volume production” models available to the general public but in 1956 Dodge did a special run of what it called the D-500 (an allusion to the number which had to built to be “legal” under NASCAR regulations).  Finding a loophole in the interpretation of the word “option” the D-500 appeared in the showrooms with a V8 rated at a then impressive 260 HP (horsepower).  Distinguished by crossed-flag “500” emblems on the hood (bonnet) and trunk (boot) lid, the model was Dodge’s high-performance offering for the season and had things been left at that, it wouldn't have been in any way exceptional.  However, the trickery lay in the option list, knowledgeable buyers able to "tick the box" for the D-500-1 (or DASH-1) option, which made one's D-500 close to race-ready and, to ensure eligibility in NASCAR’s various competitions, it could be ordered as a two-door sedan, hardtop or convertible.  In its default configuration with dual four-barrel carburetors, the D-500-1's 315 cubic inch (5.2 litre) V8 thought to produce around 285 HP but more significant was the inclusion of heavy-duty suspension and braking components, more valuable on the circuits than additional power.  It was a successful endeavour which both triggered an "arms race" between the manufacturers and intensified the ongoing battle with the NASCAR regulators who did not wish to see their series transformed into something contested by specialized racing cars which bore only a superficial resemblance to the “showroom stock”.  Well before the 2020s, it was obvious NASCAR had surrendered to the inevitable but more than a decade, the battle raged.

Evening (The Fall of Day) (1869–1870), charcoal, crayon), oil & graphite on canvas by English-born US artist William Rimmer (1816–1879), Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Massachusetts.

That someone ran a Stable Diffusion prompt to depict Lindsay Lohan with wings is in the long tradition of winged humans, something in the imagination at least since the tale of Ικαρος (Icarus) was told in the mythology of Antiquity.  In the best-known version, Icarus was the son of Daedalus and one of Minos' slaves called Naucrate and it was when Daedalus explained to Ariadne how Theseus could find a way to escape the Labyrinth, so enraged was Minos he imprisoned Daedalus and his son in the structure.  Undeterred, Daedalus took fallen feathers and fashioned wings for them both, applying wax to fix them to their shoulders; a cautious parent, Daedalus warned Icarus to fly neither too close to the ground nor too near the sun.  Icarus however was headstrong and, finding the power of flight intoxicating, soared higher and higher until he was so close to the sun the heat melted the wax, disintegrating his wings; no longer a superbird, he fell into the sea around the island of Samos and drowned.  As a tribute, the sun god Helios called the body of water the Ικάριο Πέλαγος (Ikario Pelagos) (Icarian Sea), the name still used of the stretches of the Aegean between the Cyclades and Asia Minor (the modern-day Türkiye Cumhuriyeti (Republic of Türkiye, still often referred to as Turkey)).  Other versions from Antiquity have him drowning in nautical accidents but generally his name is used as a cautionary tale about the consequences of not heeding the advice of those who know better although, curiously, there’s also the odd reference to him having invented woodwork and carpentry.  In Rimmer’s evocative drawing, the model has always been presumed to be the doomed Icarus but the artist may also have had in mind the fallen angel Lucifer, the imagery of a prideful descent perhaps influenced by John Milton’s (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667) or Dante Alighieri’s (circa 1265–1321) Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)).

LP (long playing) album label for Led Zeppelin’s Presence (1976), issued by Atlantic Recording Corporation on the Swansong label.

The English graphic art production house Hipgnosis (best known for album covers which were (in the pre-CD (compact disc) era) for a quarter century-odd a vibrant part of the pop-art world) used Rimmer’s Evening as a model for the logo of Swan Song Records, set up in 1974 by the English band Led Zeppelin (1968-1974) after the expiration of their distribution contract with Atlantic Records (which anyway handled the distribution of Swan Song’s products).  The idea was to combine the imagery of Rimmer with the wings of a white swan and the notion of “songs”.  At the time, the popular music business substantially was controlled by the major labels and Swan Song was one of a number of (usually short-lived) labels created in an attempt to give musicians who could not secure a recording contract a way of having their output reach audiences.  Although the label remains active for the purposes of re-issuing older material, after the surviving members of Led Zeppelin disbanded in 1980, there were only spasmodic releases until in 1983 it was announced active operations would cease and no new contracts would be executed.

1970 Plymouth Superbird (left) and 1969 Dodge Daytona (right). Despite the obvious conceptual and visual similarities, it's when two are seen in close proximity (especially in profile) that the differences become more obvious, the Superbird's nose-cone less pointed, the rear wing higher with a rake more acute.  

By 1969, NASCAR's regulators had fine-tuned their rules restricting engine power and, further to "equalize" things, had mandated minimum weights.  Scope for innovation was thus limited so manufacturers turned to the then less policed field of aerodynamics, ushering what came to be known as the "aero-cars" and it was an era when the discipline had become suddenly fashionable, wings and spoilers sprouting on the cars used in Formula One and the Can-Am (the wonderful series for (Group 7) unlimited displacement sports cars) although initially, Chrysler's approach had been a modest "tweaking" rather than a radical alteration of the lines.  When the aerodynamics of the sleek-looking 1968 Charger proved to be unexpectedly inefficient, Dodge for 1969 modified the most suspect areas at the front and rear, "smoothing out" the air-flow and labelling the result the "Charger 500" in a nod to the NASCAR homologation rules which demanded for eligibility the production of 500 mechanically identical cars.  However, unlike the quite subtle modifications which proved so successful for Ford’s Torino Talladega and Mercury’s Cyclone Spoiler, what was done to created the 500 did not resolve the issues so production ceased after 392 were built.  Dodge solved the problem of the missing 108 needed for homologation purposes by subsequently introducing a different "Charger 500" which was just a trim level and nothing to do with homologation but, honor apparently satisfied on both sides, NASCAR turned to the telescope the same blind eye chosen when it became clear Ford with the Talladega and Cyclone Spoiler had also "bent the rules" a bit.

The rear wings (like the nosecone, the units on the Daytona and Superbird were not interchangeable) genuinely were there for the aerodynamic advantage they conferred but there were possibilities for repurposing.  Most of the photographs (left) of “washing hanging out to dry” from a wing were staged for comic effect but, between events, racing drivers really would use the structure as a place to air sweaty race overalls while for photographers, amateurs and professionals alike, the wings also proved an irresistible prop which could be adorned with decorative young ladies.  Had OnlyFans existed in the era, it can be guaranteed some content providers would have been juxtaposed against a Superbird’s wing.

Not discouraged by the 500's aerodynamic recalcitrance, Dodge recruited engineers from Chrysler's aerospace & missile division (which was being shuttered because Richard Nixon's (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) détente era had arrived and the US & Soviet Union were beginning their arms-reduction programmes) and quickly created the Daytona, adding to the 500 a protruding nosecone and high wing at the rear.  As successful on the track as the scale-models had been in the wind-tunnel, this time the required 500 really were built (a reported 503 leaving the line).  Not best-pleased, NASCAR responded by again moving the goalposts, requiring manufacturers to build one example of each vehicle for at least half their registered dealers (exclusive or shared) so, there at the time being a reported 3832 franchised Plymouth dealers in the US, duly the company built a reported 1935 Road Runner Superbirds (although NASCAR apparently stopped counting once they'd verified the existence of the 1920 which satisfied their rules).  It was an exercise probably more expensive for Plymouth than Dodge because it's believed neither division made any profit on their "homologation cars" and some claim each was invoiced to dealers at a loss.  Now more unhappy than ever, NASCAR lawyered-up and drafted rules which included restricting the aero cars to an engine displacement of 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) while permitting the rest of the field to run the full 7.0 litres (427 cubic inch); this rendered the aero-cars uncompetitive and their brief, shining moment ended.

Blondes have more fun: Emelia Hartford (b 1993) and her 1970 Plymouth Superbird at the Goodyear San Angelo Proving Grounds.  Before her restoration efforts, it had for 30 years sat neglected.

The estimable Emelia Hartford both builds and races cars and in 2025 she took a fully-restored NASCAR race Superbird to the high-speed test track at Goodyear’s San Angelo Proving Grounds facility in Texas.  Although in 1970 the boffins at Chrysler had studied their slide-rules and calculated that, in NASCAR-spec, a Superbird could not, even under ideal conditions, achieve 220 mph (354 km/h), it was an age of empiricists and nobody would be convinced until the rubber hit the road.  The numbers really did come from slide-rules and pencil & paper because, although engineers were by then using computers (they took up entire rooms), for many calculations, the old ways produced results more quickly.  Ms Hartford has a presence on YouTube and among her viewers must be some of Goodyear’s staff because somewhere in the corporate memory was jogged the recollection of the day, all those years ago, when a NASCAR Superbird had not quite hit the 220 mph mark.  Goodyear thus extended Ms Hartford an invitation to the proving grounds to see if it really was possible; it transpired the slide-rule operators had, more than a half century earlier, been right, the restored Superbird achieving 211 mph (340 km/h).

1969 Ford Torino Sportsroof (left), 1969 Ford Torino Talladega (centre) and 1970 Ford Torino Sportsroof (left).  What Ford did for its aero cars was much less dramatic than what Chrysler's missile engineers concocted but the modifications proved remarkable effective.  The 1970 Torino (the design language of which Ford Australia adopted for the Falcon Hardtop (1972-1978)), although it look sleek and the racing teams were promised “specific efficiencies”, proved less slippery than the Talladega so team managers for some time continued to use the older platform.

Given more power than they had when run in NASCAR spec, the aero cars could go faster but Ford’s experiments had proved what their calculations had suggested: above 190 mph, it would take an additional 50 HP to achieve an additional 3 mph (5 km/h) but an even greater increase would be realized simply by slightly altering the shape of the nose, lowering the leading edge by about an inch (25mm).  Under the rules, it was impossible to gain 50 HP but the rhinoplasty, although at a glance imperceptible to the untrained eye, successfully delivered the improved performance of the Talladega and Cyclone Spoiler.  The point was emphasised when in 1971 one of the Daytonas just rendered unlawful by NASCAR was taken to the Bonneville Salt Flats where it was used to set 28 USAC (United States Auto Club) & FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile, the International Automobile Federation) world speed records.  Although modified to produce more power and fitted with low-drag tyres and a very tall (ie numerically low) final drive ratio, even under Bonneville’s ideal conditions, the top speeds recorded were 216.465 mph (348.367) over a flying mile and 217.368 (349.820) over a flying kilometre.  Ms Hartford's 211 mph run was thus both impressive and in line with expectations but more may have been possible because, as the NASCAR teams discovered, fitting simple "smooth" fibreglass covers atop the A-pillars delivered a precious 1 mph (1.6 km/h).

The graphic for the original Road Runner (1968, left) and the version used for the Superbird (1970, right).  The image was used under licence from Warner Brothers, as was the distinctive "meep-meep" tone of the horn (the horn button on the steering wheel actually read "beep beep"), the engineering apparently as simple as replacing the aluminium strands in the mechanism with copper windings.  The fee for the cartoon character was US$50,000 with the rights to the "beep-beep" invoiced at a further US$10,000; both proved sound investments.  

Discounted Superbird, 1970.  When new, the seriously weird looking machines often lingered on lots and deals had to be done; nobody could have anticipated what they'd become a half-century on.

So extreme in appearance were the cars (at certain angles, distinctly they were ungainly) they proved at the time sometimes hard to sell and as well as being heavily discounted, some were converted back to the standard Road Runner specification by dealers anxious to get them out of the showroom (a generation on, some Volkswagen dealers resorted to the same approach after US buyers proved less attracted to the Harlequin Golfs than Europeans had been to the Harlekin Polos).  Views changed over time and they're now much sought by collectors, the record known price paid for a Superbird being US$1,650,000 for one of the 135 fitted with the 426 Street Hemi.  Despite the Superbirds having been produced in some four times the quantity of Daytonas, as collectables, they're treated as interchangeable with the determinates of price (all else being equal) being (1) engine specification (the Hemi-powered models the most desirable followed by the 6-BBL Plymouths (there were no Six-Pack Daytonas built) and then the 4 barrel 440s), (2) transmission (those with a manual gearbox attracting a premium) and (3) the usual combination of mileage, condition and originality.  Mapped on to that equation is the variable of who happens to be at an auction on any given day, something unpredictable.  That was demonstrated in August 2024 when a highly optioned Daytona in the most desirable configuration achieved US$3.36 million at Mecum’s auction in Monterey, California.

1969 Plymouth Road Runner advertisement.

The US$3.36 million achieved generated headlines on sites where such things are discussed, but what attracted the interest of amateur sociologists was the same Daytona had in May 2022 sold for US$1.3 million when offered by Mecum in an auction at the Indiana State Fairgrounds.  The US$1.3 million was at the time the highest price then paid for a Hemi Daytona (of the 503 built, only 70 were fitted with the Hemi and of those, only 22 had the four-speed manual) and the increase in value by some 250% was obviously the result of something other than the inflation rate.  The consensus was that although the internet had made just about all markets inherently global, local factors can still influence both the buyer profile and their behaviour, especially in the hothouse environment of a live auction.  Those who frequent California’s central coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco include a demographic not typically found in the mid-west and among other distinguishing characteristics there are more rich folk, able to spend US$3.36 million on a half-century old car they’ll probably never drive between purchase and a return to the auction circuit.  That’s how the collector market works, the cars now essentially the same sort of commodity as certain paintings; it's not that cars are art (although New York's MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) has a few on permanent exhibit including an early Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974)) but the market structures and dynamics are more similar than they are different.

1970 Plymouth Hemi Superbird in TorRed over Black vinyl.  Between 2022-2025, its realized value fell by some US$1.2 million.

Still, it's a volatile market and some who “overpaid” by buying in a “peak market” have booked considerable losses when compelled to sell at a time when demand proved less buoyant.  Although the aero-cars are among the more collectable Mopars, they remain a traded commodity and about such things, all that can be guaranteed about their value is: “it will fluctuate”.  In 2025, a Hemi Superbird sold at auction for US$418,000 which, given its condition and specification, was at the lower end of expectations but in 2022, the same machine had gone over the block for US$1.65 million.  The loss booked was thus US$1.2 million-odd or around 75%, neither of those numbers encouraging for collectors and immediately, the conspiracy theorists began offering explanations involving the interplay of tax deductions, charitable donations and such.  There are of course cases where losses even greater in magnitude can be imagined; the early 1 Gb USB sticks sold for US$199.00 and were an immaculate, unused example still in its original blister pack to be offered for sale in 2026, the nominal loss would be greater than 75%.  Still, “vintage” USB sticks are not (yet) a collectable and most who buy Superbirds don’t expect to suffer depreciation.

The Buick Skylark Grand Sport which in 1965 didn't become a Superbird.

Plymouth paid Warner Brothers US$50,000 to licence the trademarked image of the bird but “Superbird” was free to use which must have been pleasing, the avian reference an allusion to the big wing at the rear.  Curiously, had Buick a half-decade earlier decided to pursue what seems in retrospect a “sales department thought bubble”, Plymouth would have had to come up with something else because in 1965 Buick did run a one-off advertisement for their new Skylark GS (Grand Sport, the marque’s well-manicured toe in the muscle car water) with the copy headed “Superbird”.  It may seem strange Buick had been tempted by the muscle car business because, by the time the rungs of Alfred P Sloan’s (1875–1966; president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946) "Sloan ladder" were in the 1940 finalized, Buick was second only to Cadillac in the five-step GM (General Motors) corporate hierarchy with Chevrolet at the bottom, followed by Pontiac and Oldsmobile.  However, the unexpected success the year earlier of Pontiac’s GTO had proved an irresistible temptation: there were profits to be made.  As it was, Cadillac was the only GM division in the era not to sell a muscle car.

1936 Buick Century.

Debatably, the Buick Century was the "first muscle car" and although in the mid 1930s some fanciful names appeared, it's unlikely anyone within GM would have thought of "Road Runner" or "Superbird", "Century" (denoting the 100 mph (160 km/h) speed all were able to achieve) thought both distinctive and informative.  The definition of “muscle car” is by some contested with the only consensus seemingly that none accept it can encompass FWD (front-wheel-drive), despite Cadillac in 1970 rating the Eldorado's 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 at at stellar 400 HP which was 25 more than Ford claimed for the Boss 429 Mustang which used a slightly detuned racing engine.  Ford of course had reasons to under-rate the stated output of the Boss 429 but it remains an amusing comparison.  The definition most prefer is: “a big engine from a big, heavy car installed in a smaller, lighter car” and although in 1936 the improvement in the economy remained patchy (and would soon falter), Buick rang in the changes, re-naming its entire line.  The new Century was a revised revised version of the model 60, created by replacing the 233 cubic inch (3.8 litre) straight eight with the 320 cubic inch (5.2 litre) unit from the longer, heavier Roadmaster.  Putting big engines into small cars was nothing new and during the interwar years some had taken the idea to extremes, using huge aero-engines, but those tended to be one-offs for racing or LSR (land speed record) attempts.  In Europe, (slightly) larger engines were sometimes substituted and British manufacturers often put six cylinder power-plants where once there had been a four but their quest was usually for smoothness and refinement rather than outright speed and the Century was really the first time a major manufacturer had used the concept in series production.  Many now acknowledge the Century as the LCA (last common ancestor) of the muscle cars which in the 1960s came to define the genre.

1970 Buick GSX 455 Stage 1.  It was available only in two colors and of the 678 built, 491 were Saturn Yellow and 197 Apollo White, the names topical because the Apollo moon missions of the era missions were launched using Saturn V rockets.

The model which in 1965 Buick seemingly flirted with promoting as the “Superbird” was the Skylark Grand Sport, built on the corporate intermediate A-Body shared with Chevrolet, Pontiac & Oldsmobile.  In its first season the Grand Sport was an option rather than a model and it used the 401 cubic inch (6.6 litre) Buick “Nailhead” V8 which technically violated GM’s corporate edict placing a 400 cubic inch displacement limit on engines in intermediates but this was “worked around” by “rounding down” to 400 for purposes of documentation and for that there was a (sort of) precedent; earlier Pontiac’s 336 cubic inch (5.5 litre) V8 contravened another GM rule and PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) solved that problem by claiming the capacity was really 326 (5.3) with the GM board again turning a blind eye for as long as it took for the foundry to organize the downsizing.  The Grand Sport option proved a success and for 1967 the package was elevated to a model as the GS 400, Buick’s new big-block engine a genuine 400 cid (there were also small-block Skylark GSs appropriately labelled GS 340 and later GS 350) and on the sales charts it continued to perform well, but, being a Buick, its appearance was more restrained than the muscle cars from the competition (including those from other GM divisions) so it tended to be overshadowed.  In 1968, that began to changed when the “Stage 1” option was introduced as a dealer-installed option.  What this did was increase power and torque, optimizing the delivery of both for quarter-mile (402 m) sprints down drag strips and as a proof-of-concept exercise (in terms of market demand), it worked and in 1969 the Stage 1 package appeared on the factory’s official option list.  When tested, it performed (on the drag strip) so well it was obvious the official output numbers were under-stated but things really clicked the next year when Buick enlarged the V8 to 455 cubic inches (7.5 litre), delivering 510 lb⋅ft (691 Nm) of torque, the highest rating in the industry.  It's often claimed Detroit wouldn't top this until the second generation Dodge Viper (ZB I, 2003-2006) debuted with its V10 enlarged to 506 cubic inches (8.3 litres) but the early 472 (1968) & 500 (1970) cubic inch (7.7 & 8.2 litre) Cadillac V8s were rated respectively at 525 lb⋅ft (712 Nm) & 550 lb⋅ft (746 Nm).

1970 Buick GSX brochure.

Buick in 1970 made available the GSX “Performance and Handling Package” which added a hefty US$1,100 to the GS 455’s base price US$3,098, a factor in it attracting only 678 buyers, 400 of whom ordered the “Stage 1” option.  In this context, use of the word “stage” was unusual but, like the color choices, that too was an allusion to the space program, the big Saturn V rockets divided into “stages”.  Although Buick buyers had for years overwhelmingly purchased cars with automatic transmission, the GSX was a Buick of a different flavor and this was reflected 199 of them being sold with the optional four-manual; clearly the GSX was attracting the much sought “conquest buyers” (ie those who usually purchased another brand).  Presumably, whether or not “conquests” most buyers presumably were content because the straight-line performance was impressive; while the GSX didn't possess the ability of genuine race-bred engines like the Chrysler Street Hemi, Ford Boss 429 or the most lusty of the big-block Chevrolets effortlessly to top 140 mph (225 km/h), on the drag strip, the combination of the prodigious low-speed torque and relatively light weight meant it could be a match for just about anything.  The use of “Stage 1” of course implied there would be at least a “Stage 2” (a la Pontiac’s Ram Air II, III etc) but the world was changing and only a handful of "Stage 2" components were assembled and shipped to dealers.  While both the GSX and Stage 1 would live until 1972, 1970 would be peak Buick muscle.

1967 Dodge Coronet R/T advertisement.

Another footnote to the tale is that in 1967, months before Plymouth released the Road Runner, Dodge (Plymouth’s corporate stable-mate) published an advertisement for the Coronet R/T (Road/Track) which must have been ticked off by the legal department because cleverly it included the words “road” and “runner” arranged in such as way a viewer would read them as “Road Runner” without them appearing in a form which might have attracted a C&D (cease & desist letter) from Warner Brothers.  Obviously, the tie-in with Road/Track was the idea of a machine suited both to street and competition use and the agency must have congratulated themselves but the satisfaction would have been brief because within hours of the advertisement appearing in magazines on newsstands, Chrysler’s corporate marketing division instructed Dodge to “pull the campaign”.  By then, Plymouth’s plans for the surprise release in a few months of the appropriately licensed “Road Runner” were well advanced and they didn’t want any thunder stolen.  The Dodge advertisement remained a one-off but the division must have wished they’d thought of using “Road Runner” themselves because the Super Bee (their later take on the Road Runner's "stripped down, low cost" concept) only ever sold a quarter of the volume of Plymouth’s original; it pays to be first but a flaky name like “Super Bee” can’t have helped.  Subsequently, the names Road Runner & Roadrunner (the latter which, without the initial capital, is the taxonomic term for the bird (genus Geococcyx and known also as chaparral birds or chaparral cocks) Warner Brothers' Wile E. Coyote could never quite catch) have been used for products as varied as a Leyland truck, sports teams, computer hardware & software and a number of publications.

Don't mess with popular and respected birds.

However, just because Chrysler’s lawyers dotted the i's and crossed the t's with Warner Brothers didn’t mean their involvement with the Plymouth Road Runner was done.  Shortly after the Road Runner was released late in 1967, the corporate office became aware “...certain Chrysler-Plymouth Division dealers in the Southwest [were] using live Roadrunner birds in local sales promotions and offering cash rewards for the capture of live specimens.”  That would at the time have seemed to dealers just a clever marketing gimmick but consulted, the legal department determined it was “...against Federal Law to hunt, capture kill, sell or offer to purchase a nonautomotive Roadrunner.”  Further to clarify, it was added Roadrunners were “…none-game birds classified as national resources and protected by Federal and International law.”  Who knew?  In the C&D letter Chrysler-Plymouth's public relations manager circulated to all dealers, the cultural significance was also mentioned, the Roadrunner described as a “...popular and respected bird... particularly in New Mexico where it is honored as the state's official bird.”  Accordingly, the corporate directive banned “...any future use of live Roadrunners in promotional activities.”

1970 Plymouth Road Runner with a Warner Brothers' interpretation of the genus Geococcyx in fibreglass.

So using live examples of the “popular and respected bird” was out but the marketing department wasn’t deterred and for promotional purposes later arranged production in fibreglass of large representations of the cartoon bird, designed to emerge, grinning and wide-eyed through the hood (bonnet) scoop which Chrysler called the “air-grabber” because it did what it said on the tin: funnelled desirable cold air straight to the induction system.  While "air grabber" might seem a bit brutish, it was that sort of car and in 1970 Plymouth briefly had called a variant of the idea the "Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber" but that improbable moniker didn't last much beyond an appearance in an early brochure (I.Q.E.C.A.G. one of history's less mnemonic initializms) and the hardware has only ever been known as the "shaker".  Being advertising, the large fibreglass birds owed much to the Warner Brothers depiction of the creature and little to how evolution had produced genus Geococcyx.  Some of the fibreglass promotional props survived to be exhibited protruding through a Road Runners air-grabber and die-cast models of the ensemble (car plus “popular and respected bird”) sometimes are available.

Australia's Ford Falcon Superbirds

1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird, built for the show circuit and first shown at the Melbourne Motor Show in March 1973. 

Based on the then-current XA Falcon GT Hardtop, Ford Australia’s original Superbird was a one-off created for display at the 1973 Sydney and Melbourne Motor Shows, the purpose of the thing to distract attention from Holden’s new, four-door HQ Monaro model, a range added after the previous year’s limited production SS had generated sufficient sales for the “proof-of-concept” to be judged a success.  Such tactics are not unusual in commerce and Ford was responding to the Holden’s earlier release of the SS being timed deliberately to steal the thunder expected to be generated by the debut of the Falcon Hardtop.  Despite the SS in 1972 being so successful a second batch was needed to meet demand, for some reason GMH (General Motors Holden's) decided that when added as a regular-production model, it would use the "Monaro GTS" name which, since 1968, had been used exclusively of two-door hardtop coupés.  So, despite Chevrolet in the US having for a decade built an enviable "brand recognition" for the SS badge and the success of its own SS in 1972, Holden opted not to take advantage of the new model inheriting the aura and instead diluted the value of the Monaro brand.  Even at the time it seemed a strange choice and tellingly, within a few years, after production of the Monaro coupés ended, the four door models were renamed simply "GTS".       

1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird with model in ankle-length, sleeveless floral sheath maxi dress.  The model was Jill Goodall who in the 1970s appeared on the covers of Australian fashion magazines and in television & print advertising.  She worked also as an actor, including a role as a “harem girl” in the James Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me (1977).

Although it featured a new wool fabric (described in the press-kit as a "rough-blend") for the upholstery and a power-steering system with the rim-effort increased from 4 to 8 lbs (1.8 to 3.6 kg), mechanically, the Superbird show car was something of a “parts-bin special” in that it differed from a standard GT Hardtop mostly in the use of some of the components orphaned when the run of 250-odd (Phase 4) Falcon GTHOs in 1972 was cancelled after a Sydney tabloid newspaper had stirred a moral panic with one of their typically squalid and untruthful stories about the “160 mph [258 km/h] supercars” which soon would be sold to males aged 17-25 (always a suspect demographic in the eyes of a tabloid editor).  Apparently, it was a “slow news day” so the story got moved from the sports section at the back to the front page where the headline spooked the politicians who demanded manufacturers not proceed with the limited-production specials which existed only to satisfy the homologation rules for competition.  Resisting for only a few days, the manufacturers complied and within a week the nation’s regulatory body for motor sport announced the end of “series-production” racing; subsequently, the "production" cars used on the track would no longer need to be so closely related to those available in showrooms.

Ms Goodall with 1973 Ford XA Falcon GT Superbird.  The XA Hardtop's styling motifs were borrowed from the second generation Ford (US) Torino (1970-1971), a machine which, like the 1968 Dodge Charger, looked slippery but, when used at speed on the ovals, was found to induce rather more drag than had been hoped.  Although one German race-driver noted some "chassis flex" in the pillarless coupé, the Australian car's aerodynamics proved sound and the cars were stable on the circuits.  Contemporary tests of the road cars noted the XA GT Hardtop's top speed being some 8 mph (13 km/h) higher than an identically configured sedan, the gain attributed to (1) the reduced frontal area (the hardtop's roofline 2 inches (50 mm) than the sedan) and (2) the efficiency of the air flow over and around the rear section.  

The Falcon GT Superbird displayed at the motor shows in 1973 was a harbinger in that it proved something a “trial run” for future ventures in which parts intended solely for racing would be added to a sufficient number of vehicles sold (almost surreptitiously) to the public to homologate them for use on the circuits.  In that sense, the mechanical specification of the Superbird previewed some of what would later in the year be supplied (with a surprising amount of car-to-car variability) in RPO83 (regular production option 83) including many of the settings and parts intended for the 1972 GTHO (the genuine homologation model which would have been produced in a batch of 300-odd) such the suspension rates, a 780 cfm (cubic feet per minute) carburetor, the 15” x 7” aluminium wheels, a 36 (imperial) gallon (164 litre) fuel tank and various bits and pieces designed for greater durability under extreme (ie race track) conditions.  Cognizant of the effect the tabloid press has on politicians, none of the special runs in the immediate aftermath of the 1972 moral panic included anything which much increased performance.  However, while the details of the mechanical specification delighted the nerds, it was the large orange Superbird logo on the flanks which attracted most comment, the press-kit handed to journalists mentioning the "unique black shadows" which "highlighted its appearance".  However, although nicely done, the black shadows professionally were hand-painted and not included in the full-sized decal which became available from Ford dealers in white (part-number XA-19C 600), black (XA-19C 600 B) & orange (XA-19C 600 C) at Aus$59 which may sound reasonable but the ABS (Australian Bureau of Statistics) reports that in the March quarter, 1973, average MFTWE (male full-time weekly earnings) were Aus$102.50.  Demand for the decal in any color was subdued and it was not long available.

Toned down: 1973 Ford Falcon 500 Hardtop with RPO77 (Superbird option pack) in Polar White with Cosmic Blue accents over white vinyl.

Most who saw the Superbird probably didn’t much dwell on the mechanical intricacies, taken more by the stylized falcon which extended three-quarters the length of the car.  It was the graphic which no doubt generated publicity in a way the specification sheet never could and as a "stick-on transparancy" it could be ordered from Ford dealers but so low was the take-up rate it was decided instead to capitalize on the success of the show car by releasing a production Superbird (RPO77) with the graphic's length scaled down to a mere 18 inches (450 mm), applied to the rear quarters with an even smaller version on the glovebox lid.  In keeping with that restraint, RPO77 included only “dress-up” items and a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8 in the same mild-mannered state of tune as the versions sold to bank managers and such.  It was a much more modest machine than the Melbourne Motor Show car with its high-compression 351 (5.8) V8 so although not quite a "caged budgerigar compared to a hunting falcon", the messages conveyed by the respective avian graphics were in accord with the hardware.

1973 Ford XA Falcon Superbird in the Lime Glaze & Jewell Green combo over black vinyl.  The other available color combinations were Polar white / Cosmic Blue and Yellow Fire / Walnut Glow.

Still, as a package which offered a bundle of options at an substantial discount (nominally about 11%), RPO77's cost breakdown attracted buyers and did succeed in stimulating interest in the two-door Hardtop, sales of which had proved sluggish after the initial spike in 1972.  It seems of the 750 planned, some 700 were built and that all but 200 were fitted with an automatic transmission was an indication of the target market.  In Australia, the surviving Superbirds are now advertised for six figure (Aus$) sums while the surviving three Phase 4 GTHOs (the fourth was destroyed in a rally which sounds and improbable but it was said to have been competitive, only the sheer weight of the thing meaning the tyre's sidewalls were subject to frequent failure) command over a million.  Although RPO77 was purely an “appearance package”, the Superbird was a footnote in the homologation of the hardtop body for racing, Ford using the specification sheet provided to state motor vehicle registration authorities in their submission to CAMS (Confederation of Australian Motorsport, then the national regulatory body for the sport).  The advantages in citing the Superbird as a base were (1) being built between March-May, 1973 the structure benefited from the changes to the rails and braces which didn’t appear on the earlier cars and (2) at 2910 lb (1320 KG), it was up to 210 lb (95 KG) lighter (depending on configuration) than the Falcon GT Hardtops which were basis of the vehicles actually used in racing.  Whether CAMS was deceived or was just anxious to accommodate isn’t clear but the certification was granted with the designation “Superbird” appearing in their published documentation.  That’s why it was common in press reports at the time for the racing RPO83 XA Hardtops to be referred to as “Superbirds” even though not one was based on a RPO77 Falcon.  

The original Superbird, unused image from a publicity photo session, Melbourne, 1973.  Built in August 1972, the Superbird was painted "Pearl Silver" and road-registered (LHA 614) in Victoria.  It was re-painted in its original "Wild Violet" before being sold (without the graphic).

As a nerdy footnote, the 302 V8 used in the RPO77 Superbirds was exclusive to Australia in being based on the Cleveland (335) engine which in the US was the basis only for 351 and 400 (6.6) versions.  The rationale for the Australians developing their unique "302 Cleveland" was one of production-line standardization, the local operation having never produced the Windsor line of V8s which by 1969 provided the US market with both 302 & 351 versions.  According to the convention in use at the time, the Australian engines could have been dubbed "302 Geelong" & "351 Geelong" (Geelong the city where the Ford foundry was located) but that was never adopted and both tend to be called "Australian Clevelands".  Creating the 302 Cleveland wasn't challenging or expensive and both the Australian engines were (with detail differences between them) a single-configuration compromise optimized for use on the street, eschewing use of the components which delivered improved top-end power (as fitted to some of the US engines) which worked well at high speed but was not ideal for street use where a progressive curve of low and mid-range torque is the most desired characteristic.

For the Superbird photo-shoot, as well as the floral maxi, Ms Goodall also donned some dresses with a shorter cut.  She had studied graphic design in Melbourne and after retiring from modelling, worked as a studio manager and photographer.  Now based in Germany and known professionally as Jill Seer, she has exhibited her work in European galleries.

What the Australian engineers did for their 351 was was combine the large (61-64 cm³) combustion chambers from the US "4V" heads (ie "4 venturi" indicating their use with a four barrel carburetor) with the smaller "2V" intake ports, the arrangement producing a good quench and air/fuel swirl through the ports, enhancing the low-to-mid range torque output.  The short-stroke Australian 302 was different in that it used a 56.4–59.4 cm³ combustion chamber in conjunction with the high-swirl, small ports.  That combination ("closed" combustion chamber & small ports) turned out to be a "sweet-spot" for street use which has made the Australian 302 heads a popular item for those in the US modifying 351s, the swap made possible by the shared bore and bolt pattern.  While in "heavy duty" use the Cleveland (335) suffered from fundamental flaws (excessive weight and limited lubrication channels), the canted-valve heads were right from day one, the reason why the 1969 Boss 302 (which put efficient Cleveland heads on the lighter, well-oiled Windsor block) was so highly regarded.  Although its sounds oxymoronic, Ford Australia really did market its 302 as "an economy V8" but that phrase needs to be read as something comparative rather than absolute, both the 302 & 351 even then regarded as "thirsty".