Quadraphonic

Quadraphonic (pronounced kwod-ruh-fon-ik)

(1) Of, noting, or pertaining to the recording and reproduction of sound over four separate transmission or direct reproduction channels instead of the customary two of the stereo system.

(2) A quadraphonic recording.

(3) A class of enhanced stereophonic music equipment developed in the 1960s.

1969: An irregular formation of quadra, a variant (like quadru) from the older Latin form quadri- (four) + phonic from the Ancient Greek phonē (sound, voice).  All the Latin forms were related quattor (four) from the primitive Indo-European kwetwer (four).  Phonē was from the primitive Indo-European bha (to speak, tell, say) which was the source also of the Latin fari (to speak) and fama (talk, report).  Phonic, as an adjective in the sense of “pertaining to sound; acoustics" was used in English as early as 1793. Those for whom linguistic hygiene is a thing approved not at all of quadraphonic because it was a hybrid built from Latin and Greek.  They preferred either the generic surround sound which emerged later or the pure Latin lineage of quadrasonic (sonic from sonō (make a noise, sound)) which appeared as early as 1970 although it seems to have been invented as a marketing term rather than by disgruntled pedants.  Quadraphonic, quadrasonic and surround sound all refer to essentially the same thing: the reproduction of front-to-back sound distribution in addition to side-to-side stereo.  In live performances, this had been done for centuries and four-channel recording, though not mainstream, was by the 1950s, not uncommon.  Quadraphonic is and adjective but had been used as a noun; the (equally irregular) noun plural is quadraphonics.

Surround sound

Quadraphonic was an early attempt to mass-market surround sound.  It used four sound channels with four physical speakers intended to be positioned at the four corners of the listening space and each channel could reproduce a signal, in whole or in part, independent of the others.  It was briefly popular with manufacturers during the early 1970s, many of which attempted to position it as the successor to stereo as the default standard but consumers were never convinced and quadraphonic was a commercial failure, both because of technical issues and the multitude of implementations and incompatibilities between systems; many manufacturers built equipment to their own specifications and no standard was defined, a mistake not repeated a generation later with the CD (compact disc).  Nor was quadraphonic a bolt-on to existing equipment; it required new, more expensive hardware.

Quadraphonic audio reproduction from vinyl was patchy and manufacturers used different systems to work around the problems but few were successful and the physical wear of vinyl tended always to diminish the quality.  Tape systems also existed, capable of playing four or eight discrete channels and released in reel-to-reel and 8-track cartridge formats, the former more robust but never suited to the needs of mass-market consumers.  The rise of home theatre products in the late 1990s resurrected interest in multi-channel audio, now called “surround sound” and most often implemented in the six speaker 5.1 standard.  Modern electronics and the elimination of vinyl and tape as storage media allowed engineers to solve the problems which beset quadraphonic but there remain audiophiles who insist, under perfect conditions, quadraphonic remains the superior form of audio transmission for the human ear.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Dodge.

First commercially available in 1965, the eight-track cartridge format (which would later become the evil henchman of quadraphonic) convinced manufacturers it was the next big thing and they rushed to mass-production and one genuine reason for the appeal was that the 8-track cartridge was the first device which was practical for use as in-car entertainment.  During the 1950s, the US car industry had offered the option of record players, neatly integrated into the dashboard and in the relatively compact space of a vehicle's interior, the sound quality could be surprisingly high.  Although not obviously designed with acoustic properties optimized for music, the combination of parallel flat surfaces, a low ceiling and much soft, sound absorbing material did much to compensate for the small size and range offered by the speakers.  However, although they worked well when sitting still in showroom or in certain vehicles, on the road things could be different.  The records (the same size as the classic 7 inch (180 mm) 45 rpm "singles") played by means of a stylus (usually called "the needle") which physically traced the grooves etched into the plastic disks rotating at 16.66 rpm which, combined with an etching technique called "ultra micro-grooving" meant the some 45 minutes of music were available, a considerable advance on the 4-5 minutes of the standard single.  The pressings were also thicker than other records, better to resist the high temperatures caused by heat-soak from the engine and the environment although, in places like Arizona, warping was soon reported.  To keep the stylus in the track, the units were fitted with a shock-absorbing, spring enclosure and a counterweighted needle arm.  Improbably, in testing, the system performed faultlessly even under the most adverse road conditions so the designers presented the product for corporate approval.  At that point there was a delay because the designers worked for the Colombia Broadcasting Corporation (CBS) which had affiliations with thousands of radio stations all over the country and no wish to cannibalize their own markets; if people could play records in their cars, the huge income stream CBS gained from advertising would be threatened as drivers tuned out.  The proposal was rejected.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Plymouth.

Discouraged but not deterred, the engineers went to Detroit and demonstrated the players to Chrysler which had their test-drivers subject the test vehicles to pot-holes, railway tracks and rolling undulations.  The players again performed faultlessly and Chrysler, always looking for some novelty, placed an order for 18,000, a lucrative lure which convinced even CBS to authorize production, their enthusiasm made all the greater by the proprietary format of the disks which meant CBS would be the exclusive source.  So, late in 1956, Chrysler announced the option of "Highway Hi-Fi", a factory-installed record player mounted under the car's dashboard at a cost of (US$200 (some US$1750 in 2023 terms)).  Highway Hi-Fi came with six disks, the content of which reflected the reactionary tastes of CBS executives and their desire to ensure people still got their popular music from radio stations but the market response was positive, Chrysler selling almost 4000 of the things in their first year, the early adopters adopting with their usual alacrity.

The second generation of players used standard 45 rpm singles: Austin A55 Farina (left) and George Harrison's (1943–2001) Jaguar E-Type S1 (right); all four Beatles had the players fitted in their cars and lead guitarist Harrison is pictured here stocking his 14-stack array.  The lady on the left presumably listened to different music than the Beatle on the right (although their in-car hardware was identical) but tastes can't always be predicted according to stereotype; although he disapproved of most modern music, Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy Führer 1933-1941) told the governor of Spandau prison (where he spent 40 of his 46 years in captivity) he enjoyed The Beatles because their tunes "were melodic".  

At that point, problems surfaced.  Tested exclusively in softly-sprung, luxury cars on CBS's and Chrysler's executive fleets, the Highway Hi-Fi had to some extent been isolated from the vicissitudes of the road but when fitted to cheaper models with nothing like the same degree of isolation, the styluses indeed jumped around and complaints flowed, something not helped by dealers and mechanics not being trained in their maintenance; even to audio shops the unique mechanism was a mystery.  Word spread, sales collapsed and quietly the the option was withdrawn in 1957.  The idea however didn't die and by the early 1960s, others had entered the field and solved most of the problems, disks now upside-down which made maintaining contact simpler and now standard 45 rpm records could be used, meaning unlimited content and the inherent limitation of the 4 minute playing time was overcome with the use of a 14-disk stacker, anticipating the approach taken with CDs three decades later.  Chrysler tried again by the market was now wary and the option was again soon dropped.

1966 Ford Mustang with factory-fitted 8-track player.

Clearly though, there was demand for in-car entertainment, the content of which was not dictated by radio station programme directors and for many there were the additional attractions of not having to endure listening either to advertising or DJs, as inane then as now.  It was obvious to all tape offered possibilities but although magnetic tape recorders had appeared as early as 1930s, they were bulky, fragile complicated and expensive, all factors which mitigated against their use as a consumer product fitted to a car.  Attention was thus devoted to reducing size and complexity so the tape could be installed in a removable cartridge and by 1963, a consortium including, inter alia, Lear, RCA, Ford & Ampex had perfected 8-track tape which was small, simple, durable and able to store over an hour of music.  Indeed, so good was the standard of reproduction that to take advantage of it, it had to be connected to high quality speakers with wiring just as good, something which limited the initial adoption to manufacturers such as Rolls-Royce and Cadillac or the more expensive ranges of others although Ford's supporting gesture late in 1965 of offering the option on all models was soon emulated.  Economies of scale soon worked its usual wonders and the 8-track player became an industry standard, available even in cheaper models and as an after-market accessory, some speculating the format might replace LP records in the home.

Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) as it would have appeared if released in the 8-Track format.

That never happened although the home units were widely available and by the late 1960s, the 8-track was a big seller for all purposes where portability was needed.  It maintained this position until the early 1970s when, with remarkable suddenness, it was supplanted the the cassette, a design dating from 1962 which had been smaller and cheaper but also inferior in sound delivery and without the broad content offered by the 8-track supply system.  That all changed by 1970 and from that point the 8-track was in decline, reduced to a niche by late in the decade, the CD in the 1980s the final nail in the coffin although it did for a while retain an allure, Jensen specifying an expensive Lear 8-track for the Interceptor SP in 1971, despite consumer reports at the time confirming cassettes were now a better choice.  The market preferring the cheaper and conveniently smaller cassette tapes meant warehouses were soon full of 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.

1976 Holden HX LE

Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition Holden LE (not badged as a Monaro although it so obviously looked like one that they've never been known as anything else), in "LE Red" (metallic crimson) with gold pin-striping, Polycast "Honeycomb" wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim, deep cut-pile (polyester) carpet and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery with plaid inserts over vinyl surrounds in matching shades; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not exactly suited to the image of luxury were the front and rear spoilers but they too were sitting unloved in the warehouse so they became part of the package and, this being the 1970s, rear-seat occupants got their own cigar lighter, conveniently located above the central ashtray.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but the audio quality was good and five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based.  These days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums but those who now buy a LE do so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was very high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control devices bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.

1976 Holden HX LE Polycast "Honeycomb" wheel (14 x 7").

The Polycast process used a conventional steel wheel with a decorative face of molded polyurethane, attached with mechanical fasteners or bonded using adhesives (in some, both methods were applied) and although some snobs still call them "fake alloy" wheels, legitimately, they're a category of their own.  Because the rubbery, molded plastic fulfilled no structural purpose, designers were able to create intricate shapes which would then have been too delicate or complex to render (at an acceptable cost) in any sort of metal.  By consensus, some of the Ploycast wheels were among the best looking of the decade and, unstressed, they were strong, durable and long-lasting while the manufacturers liked them because the tooling and production costs were much lower than for aluminium or magnesium-alloy.  Another benefit was, being purely decorative (essentially a permanently attached wheelcover), their use faced no regulatory barriers; US safety rules were even then strict and Citroën at the time didn't both seeking approval for the more exotic "resin" wheels offered in Europe on the SM).

Aftermath of the pace car crash, Indianapolis 500, 29 May 1971; dozens were injured but there were no fatalities, despite impact with the well-populated camera stand being estimated at 60 mph (100 km/h).

The Holden LE's wheels came straight from the Pontiac parts bin in the US where they'd first appeared on the 1971 Firebird Trans-Am.  The concept proved popular with manufacturers and a set of Motor Wheels' "Exiter" (14" x 7", part number 36830 and advertised also as "Exciter") was fitted to the Dodge Challenger Pace car which crashed during the 1971 Indianapolis 500.  The crash was unrelated to the wheels, the driver (one of the Dodge dealers providing the pace car fleet) blaming the incident on somebody moving the traffic cone he'd used in practice as his pit-lane braking marker.    Motor Wheel's advertising copy: “What wheel can survive this beating?” and “...the new wheel too tough for the 'mean machine'” predated the crash at Indianapolis and was intended to emphasise the strength of the method of construction.

Twenty years on, the “parts bin special” idea was a part of local story-telling.  Although most doubt the tale, it's commonly recounted the 85 HSV VS GTS-R Commodores Holden built in 1996 were all finished in the same shade of yellow because of a cancelled order for that number of cars in "taxi spec", the Victorian government having mandated that color for the state's cabs.  While a pleasing industry myth, most suspect it's one of those coincidences and the government's announcement came after the bodies for the GTS-R had already been painted.  Being "taxi yellow" doesn't appear to have deterred demand and examples now sell for well into six figures (in Aus$).      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden LE typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take an elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era” (so named in the US for many reasons), it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The HQ Holden (1971-1974) was admired for an delicacy of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint although to be fair, while the last of the series (HZ, 1977-1980) ascetically wasn't as pleasing as the first, dynamically, it was much-improved.   

1973 Ford Falcon XA GT Hardtop (RPO83).

In the era of the LE, Ford Australia had it's own problem with unwanted two-door bodyshells.  Released too late to take advantage of what proved a market fad, Ford’s Falcon Hardtops (XA; 1972-1973, XB; 1973-1976 & XC; 1976-1979) never enjoyed the success of Holden’s Monaro (1968-1976), Chrysler’s Valiant Charger (1971-1978) or even that of Ford’s own, earlier Falcon Hardtop (XM; 1964-1965 & XP; 1965-1966).  The public’s increasing and unpredicted uninterest in the style meant that by 1976, like Holden, Ford had languishing in unwanted in their hands hundreds of body-shells for the big (in Australian terms although in the US they would have been classed “compacts”) coupés.  When released in 1972 Ford’s expectation was it would every year sell more than 10,000 Hardtops but that proved wildly optimistic and not even discounting and some “special editions” did much to stimulate demand.  By 1977 sales had dropped to a depressing 913 and with over 500 bodies in stock, the projection no more than 100 would attract buyers meant a surplus of 400; an embarrassing mistake.

Edsel Ford II with Falcon Cobra #001, publicity shot, Ford Australia's Head Office, Campbellfield, Victoria.  The badge below the Cobra decal reads 5.8; Australia switched to the metric system in 1973 but because of the nature of the machines, almost always the V8s are described either as 302 (4.9) or 351 (5.8), cubic inches being a muscle car motif. 

Scrapping them all had been discussed but in Australia at the time was Edsel Ford II (b 1948), great-grandson of Henry Ford (1863-1947), grandson of Edsel Ford (1893–1943) and the only son of Henry Ford II (1917–1987).  The scion had been sent to southern outpost to learn the family business and been appointed assistant managing director of Ford Australia; his solution profitably to shift the surplus hardtops was hardly original but, like many sequels, it worked.  What Edsel Ford suggested was to use the same approach which in 1976 had been such a success when applied in the US to the Mustang II (1973-1978): Create a dress-up package with the motifs of the original Shelby Mustangs (1965-1968), the most distinctive of which were the pair of broad, blue stripes running the vehicle’s full length.  In truth, the stripes had been merely an option on the early Shelby Mustangs but so emblematic of the breed did they become it’s now rare to see one un-striped.  The blinged-up Mustang IIs had been dubbed “Cobra II” and although mechanically unchanged, proved very popular.  One (unverified) story which is part of industry folklore claims the American’s suggestion was initially rejected by local management and discarded before a letter arrived from Ford’s Detroit head office telling the colonials that if Edsel Ford II wanted a Falcon Cobra with stripes, it must be done.  As Edsel's father once told a Lee Iacocca (1924–2019) who seemed to be getting ideas above his station: "Don't forget my name is on the building". 

Falcon Cobra #31.  The rear-facing bonnet (hood) scoop was the most obvious visual clue identifying the Option 97 (#002-031) cars although the after market responded and it became possible to buy replica scoops as well as the decals and plaques for those who wanted their own "Cobra look".

The Australian cars thus came to be “Cobra” and as well as providing a path to monetizing what had come to be seen as dead stock, the cars would also be a platform with which Ford could homologate some parts for use in racing.  The latter task was easy because in November 1977 Ford had built 13 “special order” XC Hardtops which conformed with the “evolution” rules of the Confederation of Australian Motor Sport (CAMS, then the regulatory body) for homologating parts for Group C touring car events.  Cognizant of the furore which had erupted in 1972 when high-output engines were homologated in road cars, the changes were mostly about durability and included enlarged rear wheel wells to accommodate wider wheels and tyres, a reverse hood (bonnet) scoop which drew desirable cool-air from the low-pressure area at the base of the windscreen, twin electric fans (switchable from the cockpit) which replaced the power-sapping engine-driven fan, a front tower brace (K-brace) which stiffened the body structure, an idler arm brace and front and rear spoilers.

Falcon Cobra #094 which was one of the "fully optioned" of the Option 96 build (#081-200 including the 351 V8, air-conditioning, power steering & power windows).

A prototype Falcon Cobra was built in April 1978 with production beginning the following July.  Unusually, all were originally painted Bold Blue before the areas which would become the stripes and the sill & wheel-arch highlights was masked with a coating of Sno White was painted over the top (thin Olympic (Blaze) Blue accent stripes separated the colors and “Cobra” decals were fitted to the sides and rear).  Each of the 400 built was fitted with a sequentially numbered plaque (001 to 400) on the dash and the production breakdown was:

#001: Created for promotional use, it was allocated for the photo-sessions from which came the images used in the first brochures (351 automatic).

#002-031: The Option 97 run which contained the parts and modifications intended for competition and produced in conformity with CAMS’s “evolution” rules (351 manual).

#032-041: 351 manual with air-conditioning (A/C) & power steering (P/S).

#042-080: 351 manual with A/C, P/S & power windows (P/W).

#081-200: 351 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

#201-300: 302 manual.

#301-360 (except 351): 302 automatic with A/C & P/S.

#351: 351 manual.

#361-400: 302 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

Moffat Ford Dealers team cars in the Hardie-Ferodo 1000 at Bathurst, finishing 1-2 in 1977 (left) and on the opening lap in 1978 (right).  In 1978, the cars (actually 1976 XB models modified to resemble XCs) matched their 1977 qualifying pace by starting second & third on the grid but in the race both recorded a DNF (did not finish). 

The Option 97 run (#002-031) included the modifications fitted to the 13 cars built in November 1997 but also included was engine & transmission oil coolers, a tramp rod (fitted only to the left-side because most racing in Australia is on anti-clockwise circuits and most turns thus to the left) and a special front spoiler which directed cooling air to the front brakes.  Visually, the Option 97 run was differentiated from the rest by the (functional) bonnet scoop and a pair of Scheel front bucket seats (part number KBA90018) in black corduroy cloth. Collectively, the 370 Option 96 and 30 Option 97 made up the 400 SVP (Special Value Pack) that was the Falcon Cobra.  The Cobra’s blue & white livery appeared on the race tracks in 1978 but the best known (the pair run by Allan Moffat's (v 1939) “Moffat Ford Dealers” team were actually modified XB Hardtops built in 1976 and the same vehicles which had completed the photogenic 1-2 at Bathurst in 1977.

Cinque

Cinque (pronounced singk)

(1) In certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino with five spots or pips.

(2) As cinquefoil (1) a potentilla (flower), (2) in heraldry, a stylized flower or leaf with five lobes and (3) in topology, a particular knot of five crossings.

1350–1400: From the Middle English cink, from the Old French cinq (five), from the Vulgar Latin cinque, from the Latin quīnque (five).  The archaic spelling cinq was from the modern French cinq, whereas the standard spelling probably emerged either under the influence of the Italian cinque or was simply a misspelling of the French.  In typically English fashion, the pronunciation “sank” is based on a hypercorrect approximation of the French pronunciation, still heard sometimes among what use to be called “the better classes”.  The alternative forms were cinq (archaic), sinque (obsolete) and sink & sank (both misspellings).  The homophones are cinq, sink, sync & synch (and sank at the best parties); the noun plural is cinques.

Cinque outposts, attested since the 1640s was a term which referred to the five senses.  The noun cinquecento (written sometimes as cinque-cento) is used in (as noun & adjective) criticism & academic works when describing sixteenth century Italian art and literature.  It dates from 1760, from the Italian cinquecento (literally “500”) and was short for mil cinquecento (1500).  The use to describe "a group of five, five units treated as one," especially at cards or dice, dates from the late fourteenth century and in English was borrowed directly from the French cinq, a dissimilation from Latin quinque (five) which in Late Latin also picked up the familiar spelling cinque.  The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European penkwe (five).

Cinquefoil housing stained glass (leadlight) window.

In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Old French cinqfoil, the construct being cinq (five) + foil (leaf).  The basis for the French form was the quinquefolium, the construct being quinque (five) + folium (leaf), from the primitive Indo-European root bhel- (to thrive, bloom).  In Gothic tracery, there was a wide use of circular shapes featuring a lobe tangent to the inner side of a larger arc or arch, meeting other lobes in points called cusps projecting inwards from the arch and architects defined them by the number of foils used, indicated by the prefix: trefoil (3), quatrefoil (4), cinquefoil (5), multifoil etc.  Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the "Perpendicular Period" (the final phase of English Gothic architecture, dated usually between circa 1350–1550; it followed the "Decorated Style" and was characterized by strong vertical lines, large windows with intricate tracery, and elaborate fan vaulting) and, when placed with the axes set diagonally, quatrefoils were called cross-quarters.

Porsche "phone-dial" wheels, clockwise from top left: 1981 911SC, 1988 924S, 1987 944S & 1985 928S.  With a myriad of variations, the cinquefoil motif was a style for wheels used by a number of manufacturers, the best known of which were the ones with which Porsche equipped the 911, 924, 944 & 928 where they were known as the “phone-dial”, a reference which may puzzle those younger than a certain age.  Because these have five rather than ten holes, they really should have picked up the nickname "cinquefoil" rather than "phone-dial" but the former was presumably too abstract or obscure so the more accessible latter prevailed.

Fiat 500 (2023), watercolor on paper by Monika Jones.  While the artist hasn't provided notes, it's tempting to imagine the inspiration was something like “Lindsay Lohan in white dress during summer in Rome, leaning on Fiat 500, painted in the tradition of Impressionism.”

A classic of the La Dolce Vita era, the rear-engined Fiat 500 was in continuous production between 1957-1975 and was the successor to the pre-war Fiat 500 Topolino, an even more diminutive machine which proved its versatility in roles ranging from race tracks to inner-city streets to operating as support vehicles used by the Italian Army in the invasion of Abyssinia (1935).  Almost 3.9 million of the post-war 500s (dubbed the Nuova Cinquecento (New 500)) were produced and as well as the two-door saloon (almost all fitted with a folding sunroof) there were three-door station wagons (the Giardiniera) & panel vans.  Although not all wore the 500 badge, in the home market, universally Italians called them the Cinquecentro.  There was also the unusual 500 Jolly, a cut down version built by Carrozzeria Ghia which featured wicker seats and a removable fabric roof in the style of the surrey tops once used on horse-drawn carriages.  The Jolly was intended as “beach car”, some carried on the yachts of the rich and although Ghia built only 650 originals, many 500s have since been converted to “Jolly Spec”, one of coach-building’s less-demanding tasks.  Being an Italian car, there were of course high-performance versions, the wildest of which was the Steyr-Puch 650 TR2 (1965-1969) which ran so hot it was necessary to prop open the engine cover while it was in use.  The Nuova 500’s successors never achieved the same success but such was the appeal of the original that in 2007 a retro-themed 500 was released although, al la Volkswagen’s “new Beetles” (1997-2019), the configuration was switched to a water-cooled front-engine with FWD (front-wheel-drive).

1985 Ferrari Testarossa “monospecchio-monodado”.

The early Testarossas were fitted with centre-lock magnesium-alloy wheels, chosen for their lightness.  Responding to feedback from the dealer network, as a running-change during 1988, these were substituted for units with a conventional five-bolt design.  The centre-lock wheels were called monodado (one nut) while the five lug-types were the cinquedado (five nut) and because of the time-line, while all the monospecchio cars are also monodado, only some of the monodaddi are monospecchi.  Monospecchi (literally "one mirror") is an unofficial designation for the early cars fitted with a single external mirror, mounted unusually high on the A-pillar, the location the product of Ferrari's interpretation of the EU's (European Union) rearward visibility regulations.  The Eurocrats later clarified things and Testarossas subsequently were fitted with two mirrors in the usual position at the base of the A-pillar. 

Plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XE (1982-1984, left), a circa 1949 British GPO standard telephone in Bakelite (centre) (globally, the most produced handset in this style was the Model 302, which, with a thermoplastic case, was manufactured in the US by Western Electric between 1937-1955 and plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XF (1984-1988, right).  Telephones with larger dial mechanisms usually didn't use all the available space for the finger-holes.

Probably some are annoyed at the “five-hole” wheel design coming to be known as the “phone-dial” because of course the classic rotary-dial mechanism had ten holes, one for each numeral.  Ford Australia actually stuck to the classics when designing a plastic wheel-cover for the XE Fairmont (then the next rung up in the Falcon's pecking order) because it featured the correct ten holes and it was re-allocated as a “hand-me-down” for the Falcon when the XF was introduced, the Fairmont now getting an eight-hole unit.  None of these seem ever to have been dubbed “phone-dials”, probably because plastic wheel–covers have never been a fetish like the older metal versions or aluminium wheels (often as “rims” in modern usage, a practice which also annoys some).  The XE hubcap may be thought a decemfoil (10 leaf) and the XF unit a octofoil (8 leaf).

1971 Ford (South Africa) XY Fairmont GT with the GS Pack wheel covers.

The South African Fairmont GTs were never fitted with the "five slot" wheels used in Australia, getting instead the chromed wheel cover which in Australia was part of the "GS Pack", a collection of "dress-up" options designed to provide much of the look of a GT without the additional costs to purchase or insure one.  The GS Pack wheel covers were first seen in Australia on the 1967 XR Falcon GT and came from the Mercury parts bin in the US where they'd appeared on the 1966 Mercury Comet Cyclone GT; they were designed to look like a chromed, naked wheel, the idea a tribute to the Californian hot rod community in which the motif originated.

1971 Ford (Australia) XY Falcon GT with “five slot” wheels.

Although scholars of Latin probably haven’t given much thought to the wheels Ford used in the 1960s & 1970s, their guidance would be helpful because the correct Latin form for “slot” depends on context, the words being (1) Fissura: “crack, split or narrow opening”, (2) Rima: “narrow gap or slit”, (3) Foramen: “opening, hole or perforation” and (4) Scissura “cleft or division”.  So a XY GT’s wheel would be a cinquefissura, cinquerima, cinqueforamen or cinquescissura.  The scholars would have to rule but cinquerima seems best, tied in nicely with the modern (albeit contested) use of “rim” to mean wheel.      

In production over six generations between 1965-2008 the Fairmont was a "blinged-up" version of the Australian Ford Falcon (1960-2016), a car based on the US compact (1960-1969) Ford of the same name (the one-off 1970 US Falcon an entry level model in the intermediate Torinio (formerly Fairlane) range).  Ford in the US would also use the Fairmont name for a compact (1978-1983) but the most quirky use was that between 1969-1971, Ford South Africa sold a car substantially similar to the Australian Falcon GT but badged it "Fairmont GT".  Assembled (with some local components) in South Africa from CKD (completely knocked down) packs imported from Australia, the Fairmont name was chosen because US Falcons (assembled from Canadian CKD packs) had been sold in South Africa between 1960-1963 but had gained such a bad reputation (Ford Australia had to do much rectification work after encountering the same fragility) the nameplate was decreed tainted.  In the technical sense, "Fairmont GT" would have been a more accurate name in Australia too because the Falcon GTs were, with the bling, built on the Fairmont assembly line; the choice of "Falcon GT" was just a desire by the marketing team to create a "halo" machine for the mainstream range, something which succeeded to an degree which probably surprised even those ever-optimistic types.  Ford South Africa never offered a Fairmont GTHO to match the Falcon GTHOs produced in Australia to homologate certain combinations of parts for competition.

Lamborghini has used the phone-dial since the first incarnation appeared on the Silhouette in 1976 and it likes it still, left to right: Huranan, Gallardo, Countach, Diablo and Silhouette.  With five "holes", these are true cinquefoils.

Despite being often called a "hubcap", what appeared on the South African Fairmont GTs really was a "wheel cover".  The origin of the hubcap was, fairly obviously, “a cap for hub”, something which dates from the age of horse-drawn carts.  Although they would later become something decorative, hubcaps began as a purely function fitting designed to ensure the hub mechanism was protected from dirt and moisture because removing a wheel when the hub was caked in mud with bolts “rusted on” could be a challenge.  In the twentieth century the practice was carried over to the automobile, initially without much change but as wheels evolved from the wooden-spoked to solid steel (and even in the 1920s some experimented with aluminium), the hubcaps became larger because the securing bolts were more widely spaced.  This meant they became a place to advertise so manufacturers added their name and before long, especially in the US, the humble hubcap evolved into the “wheel-cover”, enveloping the whole circle and they became a styling feature, designs ranging from the elegant to the garishly ornate and some were expensive: in 1984 a set of replacement “wire” wheel covers for a second generation Cadillac Seville (the so-called “bustle-back”, 1980-1985) listed at US$995.00 if ordered as a Cadillac part-number and then that was a lot of money.  By the late 1980s, most wheel covers were plastic pressings, other than in places like the isolated environments behind the Iron Curtain.

Beltless: Lindsay Lohan in 2004 using touch-dial wall-phone, note the hooking of the thumbs in the belt loops.

Remarkably, although touch-dial (ie buttons) handsets appeared in the consumer market as early as 1963 and soon became the standard issue, in 2024 it’s possible still to buy new, rotary-dial phones although only the user experience remains similar; internally the connections are effected with optical technology, the “sound & feel” emulated.  There’s also a market for updating the old Bakelite & Thermoplastic units (now typically between 70-90 years old) with internals compatible with modern telephony so clearly there’s some nostalgia for the retro-look, if not the exact experience.  Even after the touch-dial buttons became ubiquitous the old terminology persisted among users (and in the manufacturers' documents); when making calls users continued to "dial the number".  The same sort of linguistic legacy exists today because ending a call is still the act of "hanging up" and that dates from the very early days of telephony when the ear-piece was a large conical attachment on a cord and at a call's conclusion, it was "hung up" on a arm, the weight of the receiver lowering the arm which physically separated two copper connectors, terminating the link between the callers.  

Ms Justine Haupt with custom rotary-dial cell phone in turquoise.

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987), an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory went a step further (backwards, or perhaps sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it used an AT&T prepaid sim card and has a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  

Designer colors: Available in black, white, turquoise, beige and the wonderful Atomic Hotline Red.  The "atomic" in the name is an allusion the hotline's origin in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 1962) which was all about nuclear weapons.

Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit (US$170) with which others could build their own, all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unlike the larger mechanism on the traditional desk or wall-mounted telephone, the holes in the Trimline’s smaller rotary-dial used the whole circle so the ten-hole layout is symmetrical and thus the same as the XE Fairmont’s wheelcover, something doubtlessly wholly coincidental.  Unfortunately, Ms Haupt encountered many difficulties (bringing to market a device which connects to public telephony networks involves processes of greater complexity than selling mittens and such) but the project remains afoot.

The rough-fruited cinquefoil or sulphur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta).

In botany, the potentila is a genus containing some three-hundred species of annual, biennial and perennial herbaceous flowering plants in the rose (rosaceae) family.  Since the 1540s it’s been referred to as the cinquefoil (also “five fingers” or “silverweeds”), all distinguished by their compound leaves of five leaflets.

The Confederation of Cinque Ports was a group of coastal towns in Kent, Sussex and Essex, the name from the Old French which means literally “five harbors”.  The five were Hastings, Sandwich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe, all on the western shore of the English Channel, where the crossing to the continent is narrowest.  Because of (1) their importance in cross-channel trade and (2) being in the region ,most vulnerable to invasion, they were granted special privileges and concessions by the Crown in exchange for providing certain services essential for maritime defense, dating from the years prior to the formation of the Royal Navy in the fifteenth century.  The name was first used in the late twelfth century in Anglo-Latin and the late thirteenth in English.

An early version of a PPP (public-private partnership), with no permanent navy to defend it from sea-borne aggression, the crown contracted with the confederation to provide what was essentially a naval reserve to be mobilized when needed. Earlier, Edward the Confessor (circa 1003–1066; King of England 1042-1066) had contracted the five most important strategically vital Channel ports of that era to provide ships and men “for the service of the monarch” and although this was used most frequently as a “cross-Channel ferry service” and was not exclusively at the disposal of the government.  Under the Norman kings, the institution assumed the purpose of providing the communications and logistical connections essential to keeping together the two halves of the realm but after the loss of Normandy in 1205, their ships and ports suddenly became England’s first line of defense against the French.  The earliest charter still extant dates from 1278 but a royal charter of 1155 charged the ports with the corporate duty to maintain in readiness fifty-seven ships, each to be available each year for fifteen days in the service of the king, each port fulfilling a proportion of the whole duty.  In return the ports and towns received a number of tax breaks and privileges including: An exemption from tax and tolls, limited autonomy, the permission to levy tolls, certain law enforcement and judicial rights, possession of lost goods that remain unclaimed after a year and of flotsam (floating wreckage and such) & jetsam (goods thrown overboard).  Even at the time this was thought to be a good deal and the leeway afforded to the Cinque Ports and the substantial absence of supervision from London led inevitability to smuggling and corruption although in this the Cinque Ports were hardly unique.

The Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was something like a viceroy and the office still exists today but is now purely ceremonial and, although technically relict, remains a sinecure and an honorary title, regarded as one of the higher honors bestowed by the Sovereign and a sign of special approval by the establishment which includes the entitlement to the second oldest coat of arms of England.  The prestige it confers on the holder is derived from (1) it being the gift of the sovereign, (2) it being England’s most ancient military honor and (3), the illustrious standing of at least some of the previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office.  It is a lifetime appointment.

William Lygon (1872-1938), seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

The office of lord warden has not been without the whiff of scandal.  William Lygon, who in 1891 succeeded his father as the seventh Earl Beauchamp, was at twenty-seven appointed governor of New South Wales, a place to which he would later return, happily and otherwise.  In 1913, Lord Beauchamp, well-connected in society and the ruling Liberal Party’s leader in the House of Lords, was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and, fond of pomp, ceremony and dressing-up, he enjoyed the undemanding role.  However, in 1930, he embarked on a round-the-world tour which included a two-month stint in Sydney, where he stayed, accompanied by a young valet who lived with him as his lover.  This, along with other antics, did not go unnoticed, and the Australian Star newspaper duly reported:

“The most striking feature of the vice-regal ménage is the youthfulness of its members … rosy cheeked footmen, clad in liveries of fawn, heavily ornamented in silver and red brocade, with many lanyards of the same hanging in festoons from their broad shoulders, [who] stood in the doorway, and bowed as we passed in … Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”

The report found its way to London when Beauchamp’s brother-in-law, the second Duke of Westminster (1879–1953), hired detectives to gather evidence, hoping to destroy him and damage the Liberal Party, the Tory duke hating both.  Evidence proved abundant and not hard to find so in 1931 Westminster publicly denounced Beauchamp as a homosexual to the king (George V 1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), who was appalled and responded that he “…thought men like that always shot themselves.”  Westminster insisted a warrant be issued for Beauchamp’s arrest and that forced him into exile.

Lady Beauchamp seems to have shown some confusion upon being informed of her husband’s conduct.  Although he had enjoyed many liaisons in their (admittedly large) residences (his partners including servants, socialites & local fishermen) and his proclivities were an open secret known to many in society, his wife remained oblivious and expressed some confusion about what homosexuality was.  Leading a sheltered existence, Lady Beauchamp had never been told about the mechanics of "the abominable crime of buggery" and baffled, thought her husband was being accused of being a bugler.  Once things were clarified she petitioned for divorce, the papers describing the respondent as:

“A man of perverted sexual practices, [who] has committed acts of gross indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of sodomy … throughout the married life … the respondent habitually committed acts of gross indecency with certain of his male servants.”

Beauchamp decamped first to Germany which would once have seemed a prudent choice because, although homosexual acts between men had been illegal since the unification of Germany in 1871, under the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), enforcement was rare and a gay culture flourished blatantly in the larger German cities, the Berlin scene famous even then, the writer Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) describing things memorably although it wasn't until his diaries were later published one fully could "read between the lines".  After the Nazis gained power in 1933, things changed and Beauchamp contemplated satisfying George V’s assumption but was dissuaded, instead spending his time between Paris, Venice, Sydney and San Francisco, then four of the more tolerant cities and certainly places where wealthy gay men usually could bribe their way out of any legal unpleasantness.

Sir Robert Menzies in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) was one of the more improbable appointments as lord warden.  In the office (1965-1978), he replaced Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) on whom the hardly onerous duties had been imposed in 1941.  The old soldier Churchill had spent a lifetime appearing in military uniforms (his RAF (Royal Air Force) Air Commodore's outfit adorned with "pilot's wings" (aviator badge), apparently "self-awarded" on the basis of flying lessons (concluded after a non-fatal crash) he'd undertaken at the Royal Naval Flying School at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey while serving as First Lord of the Admiralty (1911-1915)) and wore it well but the very civilian Menzies looked something like one of the characters from a Gilbert and Sullivan (Sir William Gilbert (1836–1911) & Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842–1900) comic opera.  That he was made lord warden rather than being granted a peerage was thought by some emblematic of the changing relationship between the UK and Australia.

After the death of George V, the warrant for Beauchamp’s arrest was lifted and, in July 1937, he returned to England.  What did come as a surprise to many was that soon after his arrival, invitations were issued for a Beauchamp ball, ostensibly a coming-of-age celebration for Richard Lygon (1916-1970; the youngest son) but universally regarded as an attempt at a social resurrection.  In a sign of the times, much of London society did attend although there were those who declined and made it known why.  Still, it seems to have appeared a most respectable and even successful event, Henry "Chips" Channon (1897-1958) noting in his diary it was a bit dull, the “only amusing moment when Lord Beauchamp escorted… a negress cabaret singer into supper.  People were cynically amused but I was not surprised, knowing of his secret activities in Harlem.  It is never a long step from homosexuality to black ladies.”  Lord Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to society, dying within a year of the ball but the vicissitudes of his life were helpful to Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) when writing Brideshead Revisited (1945), the character of Lord Marchmain based on Beauchamp himself while the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte was inspired by Beauchamp’s son Hugh (1904-1936) who shared and (with some enthusiasm) pursued some of his father’s interests.  Despite it all, an appointment as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is for life and Lord Beauchamp remained in office until his death.