Director

Director (pronounced dih-rek-ter or dahy-rek-ter)

(1) A person or thing that directs others or other things (Director of Engineering, Director of Sales etc).

(2) In corporate law, one of a group of persons chosen to control or govern the affairs of a company or corporation, usually as a member of a board of directors and sometimes also including executive functions.

(3) The person responsible for the interpretive aspects of a stage, film, or television production; the person who supervises the integration of all the elements, as acting, staging, lighting etc.

(4) In musical or other artistic productions (stage, art galleries, opera etc) one in charge of all artistic (and sometimes administrative) matters (in larger operations the roles sometimes specialized: sound director, script director etc).

(5) The manager or chief executive of certain schools, institutes, government bureaux etc.

(6) In military use, a mechanical or electronic device that continuously calculates firing data for use against an airplane or other moving target, configured usually graphically to display (in real-time) the targets of a weapons system.

(7) In chemistry, the common axis of symmetry of the molecules of a liquid crystal.

(8) In music, a synonym for conductor (US use, now less common).

(9) A counsellor, confessor, or spiritual guide (now less common).

1470-1480: The construct was direct(us) + -or.  A borrowing in the sense of “a guide” from the Anglo French directour & the French directeur the agent noun from the Latin dirigere (set straight, arrange; give a particular direction to) and its source, the Late Latin directorem, from the Latin dīrectus, the perfect passive participle of dīrigō (straighten, direct), the construct being dis- (asunder, in pieces, apart, in two) + regō (to direct, to guide, keep straight; make straight; rule), from the primitive Indo-European root reg (move in a straight line).  The -or suffix was from the Middle English -our, from the Old French -eor, from the Latin -ātor and reinforced by the Old French -or and its source, the Latin -tor & -tōrem.  It was used to create an agent noun, often from a verb, indicating a person or object (often machines or parts of them) that do the verb or part of speech with which they are formed.  In electrical engineering it has the specific use of being appended to the names of members of classes of components, especially those that have an extensive property name of the same root suffixed with -ance (eg to convey the sense that resistors possess resistance and inductors possess inductance).  The alternative spelling directour became rare in the late eighteenth century and is long obsolete.  Director, directorate & directorship are nouns, directing is a verb, directed is a verb & adjective, directorial is an adjective and directorially is an adverb; the noun plural is directors.  The feminine forms of the noun (directress & directrix) were always rare and are now thought extinct (and by some probably proscribed).

Lindsay Lohan with Spanish fashion designer Estrella Arch (b 1974), on the catwalk, Emanuel Ungaro's Spring-Summer show, Paris, October 2009.  Ms Lohan was employed as a creative director at the House, founded in 1965 by French fashion designer Emanuel Ungaro (1933–2019).

The noun director (corporate sense of “one of a number of persons having authority to manage the affairs of a company” was known as early as the 1630s; the theatrical sense of “the leader of a company of performers” dates from 1911 and it was from here the use was picked up by those in charge of the artistic or technical aspects of movie-making.  The noun directorship (condition or office of a director) has been in use since the 1720s, the adjective directorial known since 1770.  The noun directorate was used first in 1834 of “a body of directors” and may immediately have be used individually of the “office of a director” but this was certainly first documented in 1837.  Director is a word defined both by its history of use (film director, director of football etc) and law (company director) so although titles like supervisor, head, manager, leader, administrator, chief, boss etc certainly implies “one who directs”, they’re traditionally not used as direct synonyms because “director” is a “loaded word”.  It’s also modified as needed (art director, managing director, sub-director etc).

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with "Mobile Director Package"; note the rearward facing front passenger seat.  

Although the brand had since the 1920s been used for some of Chrysler's more expensive lines, between 1955-1975, the corporation re-created Imperial as a separate, stand-alone division (albeit with some intra-corporate sharing of engines, transmissions and certain other components), the way Ford positioned Lincoln (GM's (General Motors) Cadillac then still with unique engines although much else was shared).  In the early years, the approach yielded some success (most notably with the dramatic 1957 models) but the separation didn’t survive the troubled decade of the 1970s (by which time the platform and body-shells were shared with the other divisions and much of the earlier distinctiveness had been surrendered); a couple of subsequent, half-heated, revivals proved abortive.

Bowing to economic reality, the Imperial in 1967-1968 had switched from the separate frame used since 1955 to the unitary construction of the full-sized ranges offered by other divisions but maintained a certain degree of difference by virtue of a unique body, albeit one with dimensions slightly reduced (not seen by all as a virtue at a time when things were again trending larger).  While styled with an elegance derived from its simplicity of line, the Imperial continued to not quite match the timeless modernity of the Lincoln or the indefinable but incomparable allure of the Cadillac and although sales did improve in 1967, volumes were only ever a fraction of its two competitors.  The basic engineering though was sound, the TorqueFlite 727 transmission as responsive and robust as any (although it didn’t quite slur as effortlessly between ratios as the Cadillac’s TH400 Turbo-Hydramatic 400) while the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 was a notch better, something the others wouldn’t match until 1968.  Significantly, reviewers at the time often were prepared to acknowledge the Imperial was the more capable road car although, given it operated in a market where quietness and isolation from the environment were afforded more of a premium than handling prowess, among potential buyers, any perception of real-world advantage probably was marginal.

The more stylish if less roadable opposition: 1967 Cadillac Coupe DeVille (left) & 1967 Lincoln Continental Coupe (right).

In those years however, the Imperial did offer something truly unique.  The “Mobile Director Package” was available exclusively on the Imperial Crown Coupe and reflected (within the limits of what the available technology would then permit) what Chrysler thought a company director would most value in an automobile being used as a kind of “office on the move”, including (1) an extendable walnut-topped table (secured to the floor by a stainless-steel stanchion) able to be unfolded over the rear seats, (2) a Tensor high-intensity lamp with a gooseneck mount enabling the light to be directed anywhere in the cabin and, most intriguingly (3) a front passenger seat mounted on swivelling base enabling it to rotate 180°, the apparatus permitting someone comfortably to use the table and interact with those in the rear.  Conveniently, in a sign of the times, the car was supplied with four cigarette lighters and the lamp could be plugged into whichever was closest to need.  The package was available only for those two seasons and in its first years cost US$597.40 (some US$6,000 adjusted for 2026 values) but only 81 buyers ticked the option box and even reducing the price the next season to US$317.60 did little to stimulate demand; only 70 ordered as a dismal swansong.  Even if the threat of new safety regulations hadn’t been looming, it’s doubtful the Mobile Director Package would have appeared on the option list for 1969 when the new “fuselage” Imperials debuted.

Imperial's advertising always emphasised the "business" aspect of the package but the corporation also circulated a photograph of the table supporting a (presumably magnetic) chessboard and another with silver compote holding a shiny red apple and a bunch of grapes, dangling seductively.  The latter may have been to suggest the utility of the package when stopping for a picnic with one's secretary; at an advertising agency, once someone suggested using the motif of "forbidden fruit", nobody would have been able to resist.

The advertising copy at the time claimed the package was “designed for the busy executive who must continue his work while he travels”, serving also as “an informal conference lounge”.  The Imperial was a big car (previous generations had been larger still) though “lounge” was a bit of a stretch but “truth in advertising” laws were then not quite as onerous as they would become.  More accurate were the engineering details, the table able to “pivot to any of four different positions, supported by a sturdy chrome-plated pillar and in the forward position, it can convert into a padded armrest between the two front seats while extended, it opens out to twice its original size with a lever on the table swivel support to permit adjustments to the height”.  It was noted “a special tool is used for removing the table and storing it in the trunk” the unstated implication presumably that in deference to the secretary’s finger-nails, that would be a task for one’s chauffeur.  The US$597.40 the option listed at in 1967 needs to be compared with the others available and only the most elaborate of the two AC (air conditioning) systems was more expensive.

Imperial option list, 1967.

1967 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  Note seatbelt mounting point.

The publicity material associated with the Mobile Director Package did suggest the rearward-facing seat would likely be occupied by a director’s secretary and, as one might imagine, the configuration did preclude her (in 1967, secretaries almost always were women) using a seatbelt but she would always have been in arm’s reach of at least one cigarette lighter so there was that.  The (male) end of the front seatbelts sat on the sill panel, adjacent to the seat’s squab (back), a placement dictated by the need not to restrict access to the rear-compartment and that worked well for the standard coupe but, obviously, rendered the belt useless when the seat was rotated.  While Chrysler can be criticized for not providing rearward-facing secretaries with what’s now regarded as an essential safety feature, the rest of the US industry and legislatures (federal & state) were in 1967 little less cavalier.  While some state registration authorities had during the decade mandated the provision of seatbelts for front-seat passengers, no US jurisdiction then compelled their use.

The familiar modern three-point (lap & sash) seatbelt evolved in the late 1950s with much input from US designers but it was Swedish manufacturers that first made them universal (Scandinavia being often dark and icy, drivers sharing the roads with large elk).  The modern seatbelt design (conceptually unchanged to this day) is credited to Swedish mechanical engineer Nils Bohlin (1920–2002) who was employed by Volvo, the company making them a standard fitting in 1959, following the example of Saab that had added them the previous year.  During the 1960s, US states gradually imposed a requirement they be fitted until federal law mandated they be installed in all passenger vehicles produced after 1 January, 1968.  The laws requiring people actually to use the things proved more difficult to implement but other countries quickly made both fitment and use compulsory, initially only for those seated in the front but eventually this extended to all passengers.  Although examples existed early in the twentieth century (fitted often by those with experience in aviation) rudimentary seatbelts first appeared in US production cars during the 1950s but the manufacturers must have thought the public indifferent because their few gestures were tentative such as in 1956 when Ford had offered (as an extra-cost option) a bundle of safety features called the “Lifeguard Design” package that included:

(1) Padded dashboards (to reduce head injuries).

(2) Recessed steering wheel hub (to minimize chest injuries).

(3) Seat belts (front lap belts only)

(4) Stronger door latches (preventing doors flying open in a crash)

(5) Shatter-resistant rear-view mirror (reducing injuries caused by from broken glass).

In Western popular culture and advertising, there have been many friendly bears, including this one happily buckled-up with a “Ford seat belt. One third stronger than required for airliners.”

The standard features included (1) the Safety-Swivel Rear View Mirror, (2) the Deep-Center Steering Wheel with recessed post and bend-away spokes and (3) Double-Grip Door Latches with interlocking striker plate overlaps.  Optional at additional cost were (4) Seat Belts (single kit, front or rear, color-keyed, nylon-rayon with quick one-handed adjust/release aluminium buckle) (US$5).  There were also "bundles" (always popular in Detroit), “Safety Package A” consisting of a Padded Instrument Panel & Padded Sun Visors (US$18) while “Safety Package B” added to that Front-Seat Lap Seat Belts (US$27).  On the 1956 Thunderbird (with a significantly different interior design) the options were (1) the Lifeguard Padded Instrument Panel (US$22.65), (2) Lifeguard Padded Sun Visors (US$9) and (3) Lifeguard Seat Belts (US$14).

Years later, internal documents would be discovered revealing conflicts within the corporation, the marketing department opposed to any mention of "safety features" because that reminded potential customers of car crashes; they would prefer they focus on new colors, higher power outputs, sleek new lines and such.  So, with not much done to promote the “Lifeguard Design”, public demand was subdued and soon the option quietly was deleted.  At the time, apart from improving the quality of roads (resulting in higher average speeds with obvious implications) the government had done little about either safety or vehicle emissions but both the rising highway death toll and the worsening air quality in cities was attracting attention, meaning things would change, decades of legislation soon to unfold.  The first decisive step came as a provision in FMVSS 208 (Federal Motor Vehicle Safety Standard No. 208) requiring all passenger cars manufactured from 1 January, 1968 onward be equipped with seatbelts at the designated seating positions though this was a federal manufacturing requirement, not a law requiring motorists to buckle up, something not imposed until 1984 when New York made their use mandatory, other states following the lead.

FMVSS emerged from the US NHSB (National Highway Safety Bureau (that in 1970 became the NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) under the newly created DOT (Department of Transportation), established by an act of Congress on 15 October, 1966 and beginning operation on 1 April, 1967).  That alphabet soup of activity in a field previously little explored by government came in the wake of the publication of Ralph Nader’s (b 1934) book Unsafe at any Speed (1965) documenting the flaws in the design and construction of US automobiles and industry’s indifference to the consequences.  Regulation ever since has been a growing industry, something emblematic of a theme in Western political culture since the end of World War II (1939-1945): The erosion of personal freedom in exchange for perceived (or dictated) benefits (in the case of the FMVSS, safer cars; other agencies gave us cleaner air).  All of this is fought out in various fora (legislatures, the streets, social media, Fox News etc); sometimes the state giveth, sometimes the state taketh away.

The profound recent shift in this mechanism is not the process but the participants: As “big tech” became dominant, that collective gave much to consumers who benefited from what appeared substantially to be “free” while surrendering much that was once by philosophers and political scientists thought precious but which clearly is regarded by many as an abstraction, the loss of which is a price worth paying for TikTok, Instagram, generative AI (artificial intelligence) and such.  In that, big tech’s model is essentially the same as that of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and that seems to have worked well so we should imagine, as the twenty-first century unfolds, we’ll get “more of the same”.  In political theory, what the social contract theorists at big tech are doing is right because we all have clicked on the boxes agreeing to their 30-plus pages of terms and conditions and have certified we have read and understood every clause.  The political process handling this societal overlay is neither static nor lineal; structurally it follows much the same pattern as earlier contests between power and individuals: As governments react to pressure groups by seeking to curb the worst of the consequences, fixes, work-arounds and obfuscations will interact with a flow of money into the coffers of governments, parties (and, now and again, pockets) in a way that will permit most of what big tech plans to do while giving the appearance things are being done to stop them doing at least some of what many people think they should stop doing.  To anyone who remembers the maneuvers and compromises that for more than a decade would flow around the best-laid plans of the NHTSA, it will all be familiar.

1968 Imperial Crown Coupe with Mobile Director Package.  The seatbelt (lap only) was now attached directly to the frame.

Imperial’s designers were compelled by the law to be more imaginative than most.  For the swivelling front seat in the 1968 cars, the seatbelt mounting points were integrated directly into the steel frame of the seat base itself, rather than the vehicle's floor pan.  To achieve the necessary strength, (using techniques borrowed from the seats in airliners), the engineers had both inboard and outboard lap-belt ends bolt directly to reinforced anchor points on the lower structural framing of the seat.  This made seat, mechanism and belts wholly self-contained (a la a military aircraft’s ejector-seat!) and permitted the 180^o swivel effect, belts rotating seamlessly with passenger.  Chrysler did however obtain from the authorities a partial-exemption.  While FMVSS 208 required front-seat shoulder belts, that would have been difficult to implement for the swivelling seat (not impossible because ejector-seats have frame-mounted shoulder-belts) so the restraint system was limited to the two-point lap-belt (admittedly an improvement over what she'd been provided in 1967: nothing).  Secretaries on the move presumably were grateful but the safety feature didn’t see sales improve, despite the slashing of the price.

1966 Chrysler 300X show car.

In 1966, the “swivelling seat thing” must have been exerting a powerful influence in Chrysler’s design offices because also shown that year was the 300X, based on a 300 Convertible (and despite the appended letter, a vehicle not in the tradition of the just-retired “letter series” 300s (1955-1965), the “X” believed a reference to eXperimental) and although mechanically unchanged, the cockpit was packed with “futuristic” ideas, some of which did eventually enter mainstream use (although the swivelling front seat remained one of history’s unwanted orphans).  Rather than a conventional steering wheel, the driver used handgrips and the “steering unit” included button controls for lights, wipers, turn signals, and door locks, enabling use of all functions with a finger or thumb, all the while keeping a both hands on the mechanism.  Door handles were replaced by a keypunch card used also for the ignition while a truck-lid mounted TV camera and monitor on the dashboard replaced the rear-view mirrors.  Rear-seat passengers (and the front-occupant when “swivelled”) were able to enjoy watching a small television, mounted on a bracket allowing it to be stowed away when not in use. Construction of the 300X was out-sourced to the prolific customizer and fabricator Roger Winfield (1927–2025) whose creations became well-known from their appearances in film and television including Blade Runner (1982) and Get Smart (1965-1970).  The 1965 Sunbeam “Tiger” be built for Get Smart was actually a visually almost identical Sunbeam Alpine, chosen because its compactfour-cylinder engine left sufficient under-hood space for the “special accessories” (including a retractable machine-gun) whereas the Tiger’s Ford V8 filled the space to the brim.  To solve the “aural deficit”, the distinctive burble of a Tiger’s V8 was added during the editing process.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

The most obvious thing that might puzzle those first seeing the Mobile Director Package is why it was available only in a two-door model when four-door coachwork would seem to make the configuration more obviously functional.  Had Imperial in 1967 sold several thousand of the things it’s at least possible Chrysler would for 1968 (or even mid-way through 1967) had extended availability but that would have been a more demanding process than it may appear, the existing swivelling mechanism unable to be used.  The difficulty was the four-door models (both sedan and hardtop) had respectively a full or partial B-pillar, the latter ending at the belt-line where the greenhouse begins, the structure required to provide a secure anchor point for the rear door's hinges.  The coupes used doors longer than front units on the four-door models, meaning the B-pillar sat further forward than the trailing-edge of the coupe’s door; there was thus a sufficient aperture for the seat to rotate when the coupe’s door was open but the gap would have been too narrow on the four-door cars.  So to offer the package in the four-door body it would have been a matter either of re-designing the doors or the swivelling seat and while the former would have been an expensive exercise (prohibitively so if the only justification was to accommodate a low-volume option), the seat and its base could have been re-engineered but after finding only 81 buyers in 1967 and 70 the next season, investment would have been hard to justify.

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1 (left) and 1959 Lancia Appia Series III (right).  Facel Vega produced France's finest cars of the post-war era but while undeniably glamourous, the flaws in the design of the Excellence's door-latches were never resolved and by the time the factory was shuttered in 1964, total Excellence production stood at 148 EX1s (Series One; 1958-1961) & 8 EX2s (Series Two; 1961-1964).  Lancia perfected pillar-free body engineering, using doors with sturdy window frames, permitting latch points at both sill and roof, the configuration offered on a number of sedans including the Ardea (1939-1953), Aurelia (1950-1958) & Appia (1953-1963).  The locking mechanism was intricate but the engineering was simple and proved reliable.  It's sad the company's later attachment to FWD (front wheel drive) ultimately doomed Lancia because in every other aspect of engineering, few others were as adept at producing such fine small-displacement vehicles.

1969 Ford Aurora II Concept Car.

Ford's 1969 Aurora II Concept Car gave an indication of quite what what would have been required to make the Mobile Director Package conveniently functional on the platform of what was then the standard "full-size" four-door US automobile.  The "wrap-around" rear seat was an idea borrowed from the Ford Thunderbird, contemporary reviewers praising the visual impact but noting that as something for humans to sit on it was less comfortable than a conventional design; in the Aurora it probably worked better and certainly lent the cabin the desired "lounge-room" vibe.  The problem of providing (1) space for the seat to swivel and (2) allowing elegant ingress & egress was of course afforded by the the four doors (in "suicide" configuration) and elimination of the B-pillar.  That combination provided unprecedented ease of accessibility but its doubtful it could successfully have been implemented in series-production.  The French concern had earlier tried the approach with their Excellence model but, despite retaining a vestigial hump where a B-pillar would have attached to the sill, the company never solved the problem of the door-locking apparatus "springing open" while the car was in motion, usually when the mechanism was subject to lateral forces such as when cornering.  Because these forces could be exerted at high-speed, having doors suddenly "flying open" was an obvious safety concern.  Lancia in the 1950s solved the problem of doing without a fixed central pillar buy using doors with conventional, full-height frames, thereby enabling locking mechanisms to be fitted top & bottom.  Curiously, the Aurora was based on the LTD Country Squire that came only with fully-framed doors so Lancia's approach could have been adopted but there's no indication Ford ever contemplated series-production, the "concept car" created just to generate interest on the show circuit.

1967 Imperial Crown Convertible (with subsequently added Mobile Director package).

Imperial over two seasons might have managed to sell only 151 of the Mobile Director packages but one owner of a 1967 Crown Convertible was so smitten they cannibalized a coupe to create a unique (if wholly fake) "convertible Mobile Director".  Exactly emulating what the factory did would not have been as simple as it may appear because the floor under the passengers swivelling seat needed to be strengthened with additional bracing and a "baffle" was welded to the transmission tunnel where the table's stainless-steel stanchion was attached (off-set to the driver's side to avoid the drive-shaft).  Although apparently as significantly pointless as the original, it's a novelty that would attract interest at events like "cars & coffee" and may even be more functional in that it would seem an ideal place comfortably to sit and enjoy one's picnic while watching something like polo (on the model of the way the Country Life set re-purpose the tailgates on their Range Rovers).  That said, had the factory in 1967-1968 made the package available on the convertible, almost certainly it would have been just as unsuccessful as the coupe. 

Stewart-Warner's desk-based DataFax (circa 1958).  The process of miniaturization in electronics was by 1966 still embryonic but enough shrinkage had been attained to make a fax fit in Imperial's show car.  Unlike fax machines, the pencil skirt never goes out of style.

The specification of Chrysler's package as it appeared in showrooms for the 1967 season was actually modest compared with the “Mobile Executive” car the corporation sent around the show circuit a year earlier; that Imperial had been fitted with a telephone, Dictaphone, writing table, fax machine, reading lamp and stereophonic sound system; a typewriter and portable television also used in many displays although neither were "fitted".  Also a Crown Coupe, the 1966 show car was much more ambitious, anticipating advances in mobile communications that would emerge over the next quarter-century.  At the time, car phones were available (the first service in the US offered in certain cities in 1946) but they were expensive and the nature of the bandwidth, combined with a lack of data compression, meant the range was limited as was capacity, only several dozen calls able simultaneously to be sustained.  In the 1966 car, there had even been the novelty of a Stewart-Warner Datafax, able to send or receive a US Letter-sized (slightly smaller than A4) page of text in six minutes.  That sounds unimpressive in the 2020s (or compared even with the 14.4 kbit/s for Group 3 FaxStream services of the 1990s) but the appropriate comparison is with the contemporary alternatives (driving, walking, a courier, or using the US Mail) and six minutes would have been a considerable advance.  While more expensive than a stamp and envelope, for the target market the costs would anyway have been a legitimate business expense and thus "a deductible".  As it was, the tempting equipment awaited improvements in infrastructure such as the analogue networks of the 1980s and later cellular roll-outs, these technologies contributing to an extent of use delivering economies of scale that eventually would make possible the smartphone.

The 1966 car that toured the show circuit demonstrated the concept which, in simplified form, would the next year appear on the option list but things like telephones and fax machines anticipated the future by many years (although fax machines in cars (Audi and Toyota among the handful to offer them) never became a thing).  The Dictaphone did however make the list as one of Chrysler's RPOs (regular production options) in the early 1970s and the take-up rate was surprisingly high although the fad quickly passed, dealers reporting the customers saying the hardware worked well but they "never used them".  In the collector community, a surviving Dictaphone in something like a Plymouth 'Cuda is a minor attraction; while not increasing value as would something like and original Hemi V8, it is a legitimate "period piece".

Glovebox-mounted fax machine in 1995 Toyota Celsior (the JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) Lexus LS).

The problem with the scaled-down Datafax was even had it been possible to produce the things at a manageable cost, in 1966 the solid-state electronics that would have made the thing reliable when subject to constant vibration and jolts were still years away (Chrysler’s Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection in 1958 had fewer moving parts and that didn’t end well).  However, even if reliability could have been "engineered in", there is no guarantee demand would have existed whatever the price-point.  In the 1990s, despite it being installed with Toyota’s typical neatness and attention to detail, there were few buyers for the "fax machine in the glovebox" and if the notion was going to catch on anywhere, it would have been in that nation of early adopters.  While there were many features in the 1966 300X truly that were "ahead of their time", the Mobile Direct Package was a genuine cul-de-sac, at least as implemented in a conventionally sized car (and certainly a two-door coupe).  In 1966, rearward-facing seats had for some years been seen in the "vis-à-vis" arrangement used in some LWB (long wheelbase) limousines and as child-seats in the rear-most compartments of station wagons but those seats had been either fixed or folding and although the Ford Aurora II presumably dazzled a few impressionable souls, the industry showed little inclination to follow Chrysler's swivelling lead.

2021 "Maybach-Look" Mercedes-Benz Metris.  The passenger compartment is a similar configuration as the 1966-1967 Imperials (two forward facing seats, two rearward ("fold-away" rather than swivelling)) and there were folding tables as well as features unimaginable in the 1960s (seat massage, starlight-pattern headliner, flatscreen TV, internet connectivity, touchscreen infotainment system and a Burmester sound system with subwoofers).  Unfortunately, a fax machine wasn't part of the build but by 2021, they were close to extinct even in bricks & mortar offices.   

Flawed though Chrysler's implementation in 1966-1967 may have been, in the twenty-first century, production-line economics made it possible to realise the concept's implications, "big-box" vans able to be outfitted as genuinely functional mobile offices from which communication can be maintained with just about any part of the planet.  Of course, based on the same body used by plumbers, Amazon delivery drivers and such, the Metris doesn't have quite the gravitas of the Mercedes-Benz 600 Grossers of old (it's debatable whether the faux "Maybach-Look" stuff makes things better or worse) but there's more interior space and room for a big-screen TV so it's all a matter of what one wants from life.  Noting that, some operations have fitted-out interiors as offices or luxury transports which eschewing the exterior bling, some (often wisely) preferring to travel as inconspicuously as possible.      

Undertaker

Undertaker (pronounced uhn-der-tey-ker)

(1) A person whose profession is the preparation of the dead for burial or cremation and the management of funerals (like embalmer, now mostly a historic reference, the preferred modern terms being funeral director or mortician)

(2) A person receiving land in Ireland during the Elizabethan era, so named because they gave an undertaking to abide by several conditions regarding marriage, to be loyal to the crown, and to use English as their spoken language (obsolete, now used only for historic references).

(3) A contractor for the royal revenue in England, one of those who undertook to manage the House of Commons for the king in the Addled Parliament of 1614 (obsolete, now used only for historic references).

(4) A person who undertakes something (became rare because of the likelihood of confusion with funeral directors but "undertake", "undertaking" and "undertaken" now common).  Historically, the word was associated in Middle and early Modern English with those running businesses but as the association with embalming and burials became pervasive, it came to be replaced with the French entrepreneur.

1350–1400: A compound word under- + -take- + -er, a back-formation from the earlier undertake (after undernim (from the Middle English undernimen, from the Old English underniman (to take in, receive, comprehend, understand, blame, be indignant at, take upon oneself, steal), the construct being under- +‎ nim.  It was cognate with the Dutch ondernemen (to undertake, attempt) and the German unternehmen (to undertake, attempt).  Under is from the Middle English under-, from the Old English under-, from the Proto-Germanic under, from the primitive Indo-European n̥dhér (lower) and n̥tér (inside).  Take was from the Middle English taken (to take, lay hold of, grasp, strike), from the Old English tacan (to grasp, touch), of North Germanic origin, from the Old Norse taka (to touch, take), from the Proto-Germanic tēkaną (to touch), from the primitive Indo-European dehig- (to touch).  Gradually, it displaced the Middle English nimen (to take), from the Old English niman (to take).  It was cognate with the Icelandic and Norwegian Nynorsk taka (to take), the Norwegian Bokmål ta (to take), the Swedish ta (to take), the Danish tage (to take, seize), the Middle Dutch taken (to grasp), the Dutch taken (to take; grasp) and the Middle Low German tacken (to grasp); tackle is related.  The –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun; if added to a noun it denoted an occupation.  The suffix is from the Middle English -er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, a borrowing from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought to have been borrowed from Latin -ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French -or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant of which was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.

In English, undertaker was an agent noun from the verb undertake, the early meaning, strictly speaking, "a contractor of any sort hired to perform some task" but it was applied mostly to those engaged is some sort of commercial enterprise.  There had long been instances of the use of “funeral-undertaker” but by the 1690s, “undertaker” had come to mean almost exclusively those whose profession was to “embalm and bury”.  Most etymologists conclude this organic shift to linguistic exclusivity came via the word being used as a euphemism for the mechanics of the profession, matters of mortality something of a taboo topic.  Undertaker faded from use as “mortician” and “funeral director” came to be preferred, firstly in the US with the latter soon becoming the standard form in the rest of the English-speaking world.  It was at the July 1895 meeting of the Funeral Directors' Association of Kentucky that it was proclaimed “…an undertaker will no longer be known as an "undertaker and embalmer." In the future he will be known as the "mortician."  This soon spread and the term undertaker is now almost unknown except in historic references or in figurative use in fields such as politics and sport.  In general use, the words "undertake", "undertaken" or "undertaking" are now used to describe just about any activity and with no sense of a taint of association with corpses. 

In the narrow technical sense, even in modern use, the terms funeral director, mortician, and undertaker mean the same thing (a person who supervises or conducts the preparation of the dead for burial and directs or arranges funerals"  Nuances have however emerged, especially in the US where a funeral director tends to be someone who owns or operates a funeral home whereas the term mortician implies a technical role, a person who handles the body (the embalmer) in preparation for a funeral.  Often of course, these roles are combined, especially in smaller operations so for practical purposes, funeral director and mortician are generally interchangeable.  Although it would probably once have seemed a bizarre construction, there are also now funeral celebrants who officiate at ceremonies not (or only vaguely) connected with religious practice and are thus analogous to the civil celebrants who perform secular marriage ceremonies.  They're not directly connected with the school of thought which prefers to "celebrate a life" rather than "mourn a death" at a funeral, an approach which can be taken even in an overtly religious service.  

So it's largely a matter of how those within the profession prefer to style themselves and Funeral Director seems now the most popular choice although mortician remains widely used in the US.  Mirriam-Webster provides:

Funeral Director: A person whose job is to arrange and manage funerals.

Mortician: A person whose job is to prepare dead people to be buried and to arrange and manage funerals.

Undertaker: One whose business is to prepare the dead for burial and to arrange and manage funerals.

Lieutenant General Nagaoka Gaishi san, Tokyo, 1920.

One thing upon which undertakers usually could rely for their planning and budgeting was the traditional metric: one body = one casket.  There have though been exceptions and one was Lieutenant General Gaishi Nagaoka san (1858-1933) who served in the Imperial Japanese Army between 1978-1908, and was vice chief of the general staff during the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905).  While serving as a military instructor, one of his students was the future Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975; leader of the Republic of China (mainland) 1928-1949 & the renegade province of Taiwan 1949-1975),  After retiring from the military, he entered politics, elected in 1924 as a member of the House of Representatives (after Japan in the 1850s ended its “isolation” policy, it’s political and social system were a mix of Japanese, British and US influences).  After he died in 1933, by explicit request, his impressive "handlebar" moustache carefully was removed and buried in a separate casket in Aoyama Cemetery.

Mercedes-Benz 600 hearse

1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) hearse by German coach builders, Pollmann of Bremen.

Built on a (lengthened) 1967 short wheelbase (SWB) platform, it’s a genuine one-off, the only 600 hearse ever built.  The story (which may be true), repeated whenever it’s offered for sale, is it was originally a sedan purchased by a German farmer (always referred to as Herr K) whose particular experience of the Wirtschaftswunder (the German post-war economic miracle) was the massive capital gain he enjoyed when he sold his farmland for urban development.  Happy, he bought Mercedes-Benz 600 (in champagne metallic gold) for his wife and commissioned an architect to design a house for them to enjoy.  Unfortunately, he arrived home one day to find the ungrateful hausfrau had run off with the architect and, unable to bear to keep the 600 because it was a reminder of the strumpet’s infidelity, he returned the car to the dealer to off-load.  It was sold to the coach-builders Pollmann which converted it to a hearse which seems appropriate although it's not known if the former farmer was impressed by the symbolism of the transformation.  It was used for some years for the purpose for which it was designed and has since been restored by US-based expert in all things 600esque, Karl Middelhauve.

The Machete funeral hearse and landau irons

Lindsay Lohan in habit, emerging from hearse in Machete (2010).  The Machete hearse was based on a 1987 Cadillac Brougham (1987-1992).

Between 1931-1979, General Motors' Cadillac division offered a line called the Cadillac Commercial Chassis, a long-wheelbase, heavy-duty platform which was mechanically complete but with a partially built body (without bodywork rear of the windscreen, doors and other panels included on request).  Produced on the D platform (exclusive to Cadillac), the "Commercial Chassis" was used by coach-builders to create high-roofed ambulances, hearses (often called funeral coaches in the US) and cleverly designed hybrids which at short notice could be converted from ambulances to hearses or used by a coroner's staff to transport a corpse; these multi-purpose devices were popular in towns with small populations.  The early Commercial Chassis were based on the Series 355 (1931-1935) and the Series 75 (1936-1992) from 1936 and although there were specific modification to the frame, the mechanical components were always shared with the 75 which, used for the big limousines, meant costs were amortized across the ranges.  After 1980, production continued on the downsized platform but there was no longer a separate D platform, the partially bodied cars structurally identical to the mainstream line.

1960 Mercedes-Benz 300d Cabriolet D (left) and 1960 Cadillac hearse (Funeral Carriage) on the Commercial Chassis (right).

Dating from the age of horse drawn carriages, the landau irons (which some coachbuilders insist should be called "carriage bars") on the rear side-panels of hearses emulate in style (though not function) those used on carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the Mercedes-Benz 300 (the “Adenauer”; W186 (1951-1957) & W189 (1957-1962)) Cabriolet D).  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism for the fabric roof but on hearses they are merely decorative, there to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.  The alternative approach with hearses is to use a more conventional glass panel, usually with curtains fitted which can be drawn as desired.  In many cases, there is a desire to make the coffin (casket) as visible as possible because some, to permit the dead a final act of conspicuous consumption, are crafted with some extravagance.

1971 Ford Thunderbird with standard vinyl roof (left) and 1967 Ford Thunderbird with the vinyl removed (right).

There was however one curious use of a stylized iron for a purpose which was both functional and aesthetic.  When, in a sign of the times, the 1967-1971 Ford Thunderbird included a four-door sedan rather than a convertible as a companion to the coupés in the range, the sedans were fitted with the combination of the irons and a vinyl roof.  In this one, unique, case the irons and the vinyl actually improved rather than detracted from the appearance because, built on a surprisingly short wheelbase, the Thunderbird had to be fitted with rather short rear doors (also compelling the use of the front-opening "suicide door" configuration) and to accommodate the shape of C-pillar, each had to intrude on the other.  What the (always dark) vinyl and the sweep of the irons did was conceal the compromise and for that reason, this generation of Thunderbirds is probably the only car where vinyl roofs are rarely removed because exposing the metal results in a very strange look.  Because (1) they're ugly and (2) they trap moisture, thereby encouraging rust, removing a vinyl roof usually improves the appearance of a car but this is the one exception.       

Funeral

Funeral (pronounced fyoo-ner-uhl)

(1) The ceremonies for a dead person prior to burial or cremation; the obsequies.  Technically, it’s distinguished from a memorial service by the presence of the corpse although, for various reasons, this is not absolute.

(2) The processional element of such a ceremony.

(3) The sermon delivered at a burial (obsolete).

1350–1400: From the Middle English adjective funeral, from the Medieval Latin fūnerālia (funeral rites), originally the neuter plural from the adjective fūnerālis (having to do with a funeral), the construct being fūner- (stem of fūnus (funeral rites; death, corpse) + -ālis (the third-declension two-termination suffix (neuter -āle) used to form adjectives of relationship from nouns or numerals).  The origin of the Latin forms (In Classical Latin the adjective was funebris) is unknown, the common speculation linking to the primitive Indo-European dhew (to die).  The noun emerged in the early sixteenth century, probably from the Middle French plural funerailles, from the Medieval Latin fūnerālia, neuter plural of fūnerālis and the singular and plural were used interchangeably in English until circa 1700.  In Elizabethan times, funeral operated also as transitive verb in the sense of "to mourn".  The adjective funereal dates from 1725, influenced by the Middle French funerail, from the Latin fūnereus, from fūnus.  The Middle English forms from Latin via French displaced the native Old English līcþeġnung (literally the helpfully descriptive “dead body service”).

Funeral differs from burial, cremation, entombment, inhumation, interment & planting in that those words refer to a method whereas funeral concerns the ceremonial aspects; the words obsequies, sepulture & solemnities more synonymous although, historically, the closest was probably the obsolete exequy (the also obsolete exsequy the alternative form), a back-formation from exequies, from the Middle English exequies, from the Old French exequies, from the Latin exsequiās, accusative of exsequiae (train of followers).  Funeral appears in many European languages with the odd variation in spelling but in Portuguese, the velório (wake) is a more common reference.  The adjective funerary (pertaining to funerals or burials) dates from the 1690s, from Late Latin funerarius.  The adjective funest (portending death) emerged in the 1650s and had been obsolete since the late eighteenth century except as a poetic device; it was from the fourteenth century French funeste (unlucky), from the Latin funestus (causing death, destructive; mournful) from fūnus (“funeral rites" in this sense)  The related funestal was from a century earlier and died even sooner.  Funeral is a noun & adjective (the verb long obsolete), funereal, funerary & (the obsolete) funebrial are adjectives, funereally an adverb and funeralize is a verb; the noun plural is funerals.  The adjective funereal is used to refer to anything grim and dour rather than funeral as such and in idiomatic use, to say “it will be your funeral” is to suggest there will be unpleasant consequences if some course of action is followed.

In English, undertaker was an agent noun from the verb undertake, the early meaning, strictly speaking, "a contractor of any sort hired to perform some task" but it was applied mostly to those engaged is some sort of commercial enterprise.  There had long been instances of the use of “funeral-undertaker” but by the 1690s, “undertaker” had come to mean almost exclusively those whose profession was to “embalm and bury”.  Most etymologists conclude this organic shift to linguistic exclusivity came via the word being used as a euphemism for the mechanics of the profession, matters of mortality something of a taboo topic.  Undertaker faded from use as “mortician” and “funeral director” came to be preferred, firstly in the US with the latter soon becoming the standard form in the rest of the English-speaking world.  It was at the July 1895 meeting of the Funeral Directors' Association of Kentucky that it was proclaimed “…an undertaker will no longer be known as an "undertaker and embalmer." In the future he will be known as the "mortician."  This soon spread and the term undertaker is now almost unknown except in historic references or in figurative use in fields such as politics and sport.  In general use, the words "undertake", "undertaken" or "undertaking" are now used to describe just about any activity and with no sense of a taint of association with corpses.

The modern funeral: @edgylittlepieces take on the sable.

Their funeral dress included a mode in which it could be “tightened up to make it super modest for the funeral”, later to be “loosened back down for the after-party.”  The promotional clip attracted many comments, some of which indicated scepticism about whether funerals had “after-parties” but the wake is a long-established tradition.  Wake (in this context) was from the Middle English wake, from the Old English wacu (watch), from the Proto-Germanic wakō and wakes could be held before or after the funeral service, depending on local custom.  In James Joyce's (1882–1941) Finnegans Wake (1939), Tim Finnegan's wake occurs before the funeral service so the young lady would have “loosened” first before “tightening” into “super modest” mode for the ceremony.  “Modest” is of course a relative term and it's literature's loss Joyce never had the chance to write about this sable although how he'd have interpolated it into the narrative of Finnegans Wake is anyone's guess but fragments from the text such as “…woven of sighed sins and spun of the dulls of death…” and “…twisted and twined and turned among the crisscross, kisscross crooks and connivers, the curtaincloth of a crater let down, a sailor’s shroud of turfmantle round the pulpit...” lend a hint.

In the narrow technical sense, even in modern use, the terms funeral director, mortician, and undertaker mean the same thing (a person who supervises or conducts the preparation of the dead for burial and directs or arranges funerals"  Nuances have however emerged, especially in the US where a funeral director tends to be someone who owns or operates a funeral home whereas the term mortician implies a technical role, a person who handles the body (the embalmer) in preparation for a funeral.  Often of course, these roles are combined, especially in smaller operations so for practical purposes, funeral director and mortician are generally interchangeable and the place a funeral director or mortician works is usually called either a funeral parlor or funeral home.  Although it would probably once have seemed a bizarre construction, there are also now funeral celebrants who officiate at ceremonies not (or only vaguely) connected with religious practice and are thus analogous to the civil celebrants who perform secular marriage ceremonies.  They're not directly connected with the school of thought which prefers to "celebrate a life" rather than "mourn a death" at a funeral, an approach which can be taken even in an overtly religious service.  So it's largely a matter of how those within the profession prefer to style themselves and Funeral Director seems now the most popular choice although mortician remains widely used in the US.  Mirriam-Webster helpful suggests provides:

Funeral Director: A person whose job is to arrange and manage funerals.

Mortician: A person whose job is to prepare dead people to be buried and to arrange and manage funerals.

Undertaker: One whose business is to prepare the dead for burial and to arrange and manage funerals.

In the United Kingdom and some Commonwealth countries, a pauper's funeral was a funeral for a pauper paid for by the state, originally under the terms of the under the English Poor Law (last codified in 1834 but with legislative antecedents which stretched back centuries.  The common law right of the dead to a dignified burial was first recognized in England in R v Stewart, 12 AD. & E. 773 (1840) and was thus an early recognition of basic human rights.  The phrase "pauper's funeral" is now not widely used in formal discourse but apparently remains undertakers slang and, around the old British Empire, local authorities quietly conduct thousands of funerals a year.  Although not a "State Funeral" as defined, each is a funeral paid for by the state.

Top - Ceremonial funerals: Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) (left), Duke of Edinburgh (1921-2021) (centre) & Baroness Thatcher (1925-2013 (right).

Bottom - State Funerals: George V (1865-1936) (left), George VI (1895-1952) (centre) & Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965 (right)). 

So, when Lord Salisbury (1893–1972) was asked by one of Winston Churchill’s (1874-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) private secretaries what a State Funeral was, in answering “A funeral paid for by the state” he was only partly correct, a State Funeral in the UK requiring uniquely the consent of both houses of parliament: the Commons and the Lords Spiritual & Temporal.  In the UK, the state funeral has long been a rare thing and in recent years it’s become more exclusive still, Elizabeth II’s upcoming event only the sixth in the last hundred years of which two were not departed sovereigns, the last being Churchill’s in 1965.  The big, set piece, televised events which look like State Funerals such as those of the Queen Mother (1900-2002 and Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) were styled as “ceremonial funerals” and over the same period there have been eight of these.  There has been speculation about the form Elizabeth’s funeral (operation "London Bridge", planned since 1962) will take, some suggesting it will, befitting the end of an era, be a glittering, elaborate spectacle which will contrast with the later coronation of Charles III, that expected to be something simpler than the last in 1953, reflecting the changed times.  It's not known how many people, over the years, have been involved in planning "London Bridge" but as a comparison, some sources claim 277 souls were on the committee which designed the State Funeral of Kim Il-sung (Kim I, 1912-1994; The Great Leader of the DPRK (North Korea (1948-1994)).  

Not all jurisdictions treat them as such rarified events.  While governments have different rules for state funerals, few show the largess of the Australian states which grant them to well-behaved pop singers and reasonably successful football coaches though, being obviously symbolic, they serve many purposes: both Adolf Hitler (1889-1945, Nazi head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and Comrade Stalin (1878–1953; Soviet leader 1922-1953) attended (as chief mourner) a number of state funerals where the deceased had been murdered on their orders.

Mormon Funeral Potatoes

Although often called Mormon Funeral potatoes (although the same general recipe also produces great potatoes, cheesy potatoes, hash brown casserole, cheesy hash browns & party potatoes), the unusual combination of potatoes and toppings is popular beyond Utah as a traditional potato hotdish or casserole in the US West and Midwest.  The name "funeral potatoes" comes from the frequency with which the side-dish is served at funerals where it's popular not only because of tradition but the ease with which it can be transported and re-heated.  It remains a standard component of funerals conducted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Mormons).  Although there are variations, the recipe usually includes hash browns or cubed potatoes, some type of cheese, onions, a cream soup (chicken, mushroom, or celery) or sauce, sour cream, and a topping of butter with corn flakes or (latterly) crushed potato chips.

Preparation time: 10 minutes

Cooking time: 50-55 minutes

Serving time: 10 minutes

Ingredients

20 oz frozen hash browns, slightly defrosted
2 cups of a cheese which melts well (cheddar, mozzarella etc)
1.5 cup of sour cream
1 can of cream soup (alternatively use 1 cup of stock concentrate and increase sour cream to 2 cups)
8 tablespoons of butter, melted
1 cup of corn flakes
1 cup of fried onions
Salt, pepper to taste

Instructions

(1) Pre-heat oven to 330^o F (165^o C) and butter baking tray.

(2) In large bowl, thoroughly mix hash browns, sour cream, chicken soup, dried onion, butter, salt and pepper and cheese.

(3) Put mixture in baking tray, spreading to an even depth.

(4) Evenly sprinkle cornflakes on top by gently crushing them.

(5) Bake for 50-55 minutes.  Allow to cool down for 10 minutes before serving.

The Machete funeral hearse

Lindsay Lohan in habit, emerging from hearse in Machete (2010).  The Machete hearse was based on a 1987 Cadillac Brougham (1987-1992).

Between 1931-1979, General Motors' Cadillac division offered a line called the Cadillac Commercial Chassis, a long-wheelbase, heavy-duty platform which was mechanically complete but with a partially built body (without bodywork rear of the windscreen, doors and other panels included on request).  Produced on the D platform (exclusive to Cadillac), the Commercial Chassis was used by coach-builders to create high-roofed ambulances, hearses (often called funeral coaches in the US) and cleverly designed hybrids which at short notice could be converted from ambulances to hearses or used by a coroner's staff to transport a corpse; they were popular in towns with small populations.  The early Commercial Chassis were based on the Series 355 (1931-1935) and the Series 75 (1936-1992) from 1936 and although there were specific modification to the frame, the mechanical components were always shared with the 75 which, used for the big limousines, meant costs were amortized across the ranges.  After 1980, production continued on the downsized platform but there was no longer a separate D platform, the partially bodied cars structurally identical to the mainstream line.  The landau irons (which some coachbuilders insist should be called "carriage bars") on the rear side-panels emulate in style (though not function) those used on horse-drawn carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the Mercedes-Benz 300 (the “Adenauer”; W186 (1951-1957) & W189 (1957-1962)) Cabriolet D).  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism for the fabric roof but on hearses they are merely decorative, there to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.