TikToker (pronounced tik-tok-ah)
(1) One who is a regular or frequent viewer of the
content posted on the short-form video (which, with mission-creep, can in certain circumstances now be up to sixty (60) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com.
(2) One who is a regular or frequent content provider on
the TikTok platform.
(3) With a variety of spellings (ticktocker, tictoker,
tiktoka etc), a slang term for a clock or watch, derived from the alternating
ticking sound, as that made by a clock (archaic).
(4) In computing, with the spelling ticktocker (or
ticktocker), slang for a software element which emulates the sound of a ticking
clock, used usually in conjunction with digitals depictions of analogue clocks.
2018: The ancestor form (ticktock
or tick-tock) seems not to have been used until the mid-nineteenth century and
was purely imitative of the sound of mechanical clocks. Tick (in the sense of
"a quiet but sharp sound") was from the Middle English tek (light touch, tap) and tock was also
onomatopoeic; when used in conjunction with tick was a reference to the
clicking sounds similar to those made by the movements of a mechanical clock. The use of TikToker (in the sense of relating
to users (consumers & content providers) of the short-form video (which,
with mission-creep, can be up to ten (10) minutes in duration) sharing site TikTok.com
probably began in 2018 (the first documented reference) although it may early
have been in oral use. The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere,
from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz,
thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns
or numerals. In English, the –er suffix,
when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the
action indicated by the root verb. The
use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our),
from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.
When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or
describing the person whose occupation is the noun. TikToker is a noun & adjective; the noun
plural is TikTokers (the mixed upper & lower case is correct by commercial
convention but not always followed). The PRC- (People’s Republic
of China) based holding company ByteDance is said to have chosen the name “TikTok”
because it was something suggestive of the “short, snappy” nature of the
platform’s content; they understood the target market and its alleged attention
span (which, like the memory famously associated with goldfish might be
misleading).
Those who use TikTok (whether
as content providers or consumers) are called “tiktokers” and the longer the
aggregate duration of one’s engagement with the platform, the more of a
tiktoker one can be said to be. The formation followed
the earlier, self-explanatory “YouTuber” and the use for similar purposes (indicating
association) for at least decades. So, the noun tiktoker can be a neutral descriptor but it can be used also as a slur. In
February 2024, at the People’s Choice Awards ceremony held in Los Angeles,
singer Billie Eilish (b 2001) was filmed leaning over to Kylie Minogue (b 1968), remarking sotto voce:“There’s some, like, TikTokers here…”
with the sort of distaste Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen Consort of France
1774-1792) might have displayed if indicating to her companion the
unpleasing presence of peasants. The
clip went viral on X (formerly known as Twitter) before spreading to Tiktok. Clearly there is a feeling of hierarchy in
the industry and her comments triggered some discussion about the place of
essentially amateur content creators at mainstream Hollywood (and such) events. That may sound strange given a platform
like TikTok would, prima facie, seem the
very definition of the “people’s choice” but these events have their own
history, associations and connotations and what social media sites have done to
the distribution models has been quite a disturbance. Many established
players, even some who have to some extent benefited from the platforms, find disquieting the intrusion of the “plague of TikTokers”.
Pop Crave's clip of the moment, a brunette Billie Eilish & Kylie Minogue, People's Choice Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, February 2024.
There will be layers to Ms
Eilish’s view. One is explained in terms
of mere proximity, the segregation of pop culture celebrities into “A List”, B
List, C List” etc an important component in the creation and maintenance of one’s
public image and an A Lister like her would not appreciate being photographed
at an event with those well up (ie down) the alphabet sitting at the next table; it
cheapens her image. Properly managed,
these images can translate into millions (and these days even billions) of
dollars so this is not a matter of mere vanity and something for awards
ceremonies to consider; if the TikTokers come to be seen as devaluing their
brand to the extent the A Listers ignore their invitations, the events either have
to move to a down-market niche or just be cancelled. Marshall McLuhan’s (1911-1980) book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man
(1964) pre-dates social media by decades but its best-remembered phrase (“The medium is the message”) could
have been coined for the era, the idea being the medium on which content
is distributed should be the first point of understanding its significance, rather than
actual content, the theory being the initial assessment of the veracity or the value of something relies on its
source. In the case of pop music, this
meant a song distributed by a major label possessed an inherent credibility and
prestige in a way something sung by a busker in a train station did not. What the existence of YouTube and TikTok meant
was the buskers and the artists signed to labels began suddenly to appear
on the same medium, thus at some level gaining a sort of equivalency. Viewing TikTok on a phone, tablet or laptop, sharing the same screen-space, in a sense, all are rendered equal.
On trend: Lindsay Lohan announces she is now a Tiktoker.
Ms Eilish and her label have been adept at using the social media platforms as tools for this and that so presumably neither
object to the existence or the technology of the sites (although her label (Universal
Music) has only recently settled its dispute with TikTok over the revenue
sharing) but there will be an understanding that while there’s now no
alternative to, in a sense, sharing the digital space and letting the people
choose, that doesn’t mean she’ll be happy about being in the same photo frame
when the trophies are handed out.
Clearly, there are stars and there are TikTokers and while the latter
can (and have) become the former, there are barriers not all can cross.
The Tic-Toc Tach
1967 Jaguar 340 (left), 1980 Mercedes-Benz 450 SLC 5.0 (centre) and 1970 Plymouth Superbird (right). Only the Americans called the
shared tachometer/clock a “Tic-Toc Tach”.
Since the inter-war years, Jaguar had included a small clock at
the bottom of the tachometer but in 1966, phasing in the change as models were updated or replaced, began to move the device to the centre
of the dashboard (in the case of the 420 & 420G putting it in a blister in the padded section which had replaced the timber top-rail). By 1968 the horological shift
was almost complete (only the last of the Mark IIs (now known as 240, 340) and &
Daimler V8 250 models still with the shared dial) and it was then Chrysler
adopted the idea. An urban myth has long circulated that Chrysler, with a flair the British never showed, called the device the “Tic-Toc Tachometer” (“Tic-Toc Tach” the popular clipping). However, the term was first used by GM (General Motors) and it never appeared in anything published by Chrysler which used only the equally informative but less catchy “Electric Clock/Tach”.
Tic-Toc
Tach in 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.
Among the originality police who verity the authenticity of vehicles in
the US muscle car ecosystem (1964-1974), the tachometer can be an item of
interest because in some cases units with different redlines were fitted, depending
on the engine specified. For example, in
1968 Chevrolet Corvettes (for restorers a quirky beast with many single-season parts), the redline for the small block V8s could be 5300 or 6000 rpm (depending on output) and for the big blocks 5600 or 6500 (the latter for the most potent). So, a mismatch between redline and engine
installed is a flag a car may not have left the factory in its current
form. That is of course one of many
things checked by the originality police and while re-production tachometers
are available, they know how to pick those and are not fooled.
The only work-around for someone “creating authenticity” is to use a part-number
from before or about the vehicle’s certified date of manufacture, a principle
which works for most items where there’s no record of a part’s specific
serial-number being associated with a particular VIN (vehicle identification
number).
1967 Porsche 911S Soft Window Targa (left) and 2025 Porsche 911 Carrera T Coupe (right). The enlarged, central tachometer is still part of the Porsche shtick but the clock has now been relegated to a scalloped pod atop the dashpad.
The innovation proved proved popular and was adopted by other US manufacturers during
the era, the attraction being an economical use of dash space, the clock
fitting in a space at the centre of the tachometer dial which would otherwise
be unused. Although in Europe and the UK the standard arrangement of a matching speedometer & tachometer directly in the driver's line-of-sight had become familiar (though Porsche and liked to make a point with a larger dial for the tachometer and giving it pride of place), in the US, until the mid-1960s tachometers tended to be obviously "add-ons" located in various places (centre consoles a favorite) and other than quirky Studebakers, and Ford's Continental Mark II (1956-1967), few got a matching pair, even the Chevrolet Corvette not joining the trans-Atlantic mainstream until the release of the C2 (1963-1967. Mercedes-Benz picked up Jaguar's now abandoned concept in 1971 when the 350 SL (R107, 1971-1989) was introduced and it spread throughout
the range, almost universal (in cars with tachometers) after 1981 when production of the 600 (W100) ended; Mercedes-Benz would for decades use the
shared instrument. A tachometer (often
called a “rev counter”) is a device for measuring the revolutions per minute
(RPMs) of a revolving shaft such as the crankshaft of an internal combustion
engine (ICE) (thus determining the “engine speed”). The construct was tacho- (an alternative form
of tachy-, from the Ancient Greek
ταχύς (takhús) (rapid) + meter (the
suffix from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron)
(measure) used to form the names of measuring devices).
1967 Oldsmobile 4-4-2.
Nobody
however crammed more into a tic-toc-tach than Oldsmobile which during the first
generation (1964-1967) of its 4-4-2 also included a temperature gauge, ammeter
and oil pressure gauge, something necessitated because the instrument panel the
stylists were compelled to use contained only two pods. When the second generation (1968-1972) was
released, the dash included a third pod so the ancillary gauges were given
their own space and a true tic-toc-tach was used. Thankfully, nobody seems ever to have
attempted to coin a term for five-function device on the early 4-4-2s so those
who worry about such things must content themselves with choices like
“enhanced tic-toc-tach” or “augmented tic-toc-tach”. Buyers got the instrument with its “perimeter
auxiliary gauges” by choosing option code U21 (Rallye Pac with Tachometer and
Clock) for US$84.26 which sounds modest but at the time the bikini-clad
and neoprene-tailed “mermaids” who splashed around the coral reef in the middle
of Submarine Lagoon at California’s Disneyland Resort were paid US$65
week although male full-time weekly earnings may be a better comparison and in
the era (depending on the details of the calculation) they were between
US$100-125. Making a virtue of necessity,
Oldsmobile described the cluttered device as a “compact instrument cluster [which]
lets driver monitor engine performance at a glance”, not burdening brochure
readers with the fact the Rallye Pac wasn’t planned as part of the range and
with only two pods on the dash, there was no other way elegantly to cram it all in.
It looked bigger in the brochure.
However,
while the five-purpose combo device might have impressed efficiency experts (a
field in the 1960s becoming quite a science) and pleased the accountants by
avoiding a costly re-design of the dash, the functionalists at Car and Driver magazine were severe in
their criticism. Testing a 4-4-2 for
their December 1966 edition, the editors generally were untypically lavish in
their praise of a US-built car, the adoption of front disc brakes and the
corporate Turbo-Hydramatic 400 automatic transmission welcomed as replacements
for the obsolescent units previously used and the experience obviously was enjoyed: “The 4-4-2
is the best-handling car of its type we've ever tested, lacking the typical
horrendous understeer generally found on domestic cars.”. However nothing good could be found to be
said of the busy instrument in the right-hand pod, the conclusion being: “The 4-4-2's
interior is pleasant but not outstanding - mainly because it's a compromise between
standard F-85 pieces and someone's idea of what a GT car's dashboard should
look like. It contains all the right
instruments (if you specify the Rally Pack option), but they are condensed into
one illegible dial flanking the speedometer on the left. In the center of this dial is the smallest
tachometer we've seen on any car, with oil pressure, water temperature and
ammeter gauges spread around at 120o intervals. It looks more like a chrome-spangled
battlefield than a serious attempt to convey information and is totally out of
keeping with the quality of the engineering features on the rest of the car.” The inclusion of a clock wasn’t mentioned;
maybe it was thought just to add insult to injury and, given the critique,
rating instrument legibility as “Fair” on the “Check List” must have seemed generous.
1967 Oldsmobile 4-4-2 Holiday Coupe W-30.
The 4-4-2
was Oldsmobile’s response to the Pontiac GTO, introduced in 1964 by the
companion GM (General Motors) division.
The GTO (Pontiac shamelessly “borrowing” the name from Ferrari’s 250 GTO
(Gran Turismo Omologato (ie car homologated
for competition in the GT (grand-touring) category) was the template for the
“muscle car” genre of the 1960s in that it used a big V8 from the full-sized
range in the smaller, lighter, intermediate platform. It was actually an old idea, practiced since the 1920s on both
sides of the Atlantic, but the GTO institutionalized the concept
and made it a commercial proposition on a scale never before known because of
the then unique conjunction in 1960s America of a large cohort of males aged
17-25 with enough disposable income (or credit-worthiness) to pay for such
things. The GTO existed because Pontiac
threaded the configuration through a loophole in the GM corporate rules
designed to prevent such things being produced for road use but it sold in such
volume at a pleasing profit margin that management’s scruples rapidly were
discarded and the crazy years of the muscle car era lucratively began. The GTO of course encouraged imitators from
Ford, Chrysler and (eventually) even AMC but it also compelled three of GM’s
other divisions (Chevrolet, Buick & Oldsmobile) to do their own
interpretations. Only Cadillac stood
aloof but in 1970 they did put a 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at 400 (gross) HP in the FWD (front-wheel-drive) Eldorado which sounds a daft idea but the engineers disguised its inherent tendencies very well and the delivery of the 400 HP was a very different experience than something like that of the 375 Ford in the same year modestly claimed for the Boss 429 Mustang.
1970 Oldsmobile 442 Convertible, Official Pace Car (Indianapolis 500) Edition.
Though not original, GTO was of course a great
name and the best Oldsmobile’s product-planners could come up with was 4-4-2,
an allusion to the configuration (front to rear) of a four barrel carburetor, a
four-speed manual gearbox and dual-exhausts.
Once explained it made sense but it remained a flaky name, something
suffered by later imitators, Dodge’s “Super Bee” as good a car as Plymouth’s
Road Runner but with nothing like the same brand-appeal. Like Pontiac’s GTO, the 4-4-2 was originally
an option package but such was the market response both became regular
production models. As it turned out,
4-4-2 did become “just a name” rather than a promise because in 1965 when, in order to
be advertise the things at a lower base-price, a three-speed gearbox became
standard with the four-speed moved to the option list but there was no 4-3-2:
4-4-2 they all remained which made sense because at various times one could be ordered with two, three or four-speed gearboxes, two, four or six-barrel induction and duel or single exhausts yet none were ever dubbed 2-3-1, 6-4-2 or any other permutation. However, in
an inconsistency at the time not untypical in the industry, although in 1968
the badge was changed from “4-4-2” to “442”, both descriptions continued for
years to appear in documents and sales literature.
What is in English called “semantic shift” happened a bit in the industry, the 442
not the only example of the phenomenon. The
first of Chrysler’s 300 “letter-series” (1955-1965) gained its name to mark the
then impressive power rating of 300 HP but that was retained even as power over
the years rose. The Buick Electra 225
(1959-1980) was so named because of its 225.4 (5,725 mm) length but the designation
endured despite subsequent models variously shrinking or growing. In structural linguistics, the nerds call
this “lexical fossilization” the numeric or descriptive element remaining but
becoming remote from the original, literal meaning. This covers also the
survival of terms like “tape” or “dial”; “cable” is a bit of a gray area
because even wireless transmissions ultimately are dependent on miles of
cabling somewhere. “Heritage names”, often are used for products far removed
from their legacy.
1953 Kaiser
Manhattan (left) and 1961 Chrysler 300G (left).
Although no
other manufacturer put five separate functions in the one circular pod, others
did do five-function clusters in a more elaborate housing but while Kaiser just
appended a semi-circular surround for the ancillary gauges (fuel-level, coolant
temperature, ammeter & oil pressure) Chrysler in 1960 introduced the “Astrodome”,
the name one of many influenced by what was going on during the dawn of the
space-age. What the dramatic Astrodome
did was offer the driver a “3D” effect by placing the four gauges in a staggered
array on the steering column, using space usually taken by the transmission selector
lever, that function moved to a push-button panel on the dashboard while the
turn-signals were controled by a sliding lever; to complete the “space-race”
look, buttons and knobs were prolific so although the ergonomics weren’t ideal,
visually, the atmospherics were most fetching.
1961
Chrysler 300G.
The speedometer was calibrated to 150 mph (240 km/h) which was
needed because, even in street trim, the most highly-tuned 300Gs easily could
exceed 140 mph (225 km/h). Despite the
concerns sometimes expressed today, the tires of the era were safe to use at such
speed (much had been learned from the tyres developed for use in aviation during
World War II (1939-1945)) but the drum brakes of the era were inadequate.
Adding to the drama in 1960 was what Chrysler
called “revolutionary Panelescent lighting” which was a fanciful term
describing the use of electroluminescence (EL), an optical and electrical
phenomenon, in which a material emits light in response to the passage of an
electric current or to a strong electric field. As implemented for the Panelescent system, as
well as the soft blue backlighting, each gauge pointer was also an individual
source of red light. The Astrodome was
used between 1960-1962 on a number of Chryslers including the “Letter-series”
300s and the New Yorker while EL remained in use until 1967; it was last seen
on the first generation Dodge Charger (1966-1967).
Conventions in English and Ablaut
Reduplication
In 2016, the BBC explained
why we always say “tick tock” rather than “tock-tic” although, based on the
ticking of the clocks at the time the phrase originated, there would seem to be
no objective reasons why one would prevail over the other but the “rule” can be
constructed thus: “If there are three words then the order has to go I, A, O. If there are two words then the first is I and
the second is either A or O which is why we enjoy mish-mash, chit-chat, clip-clop,
dilly-dally, shilly-shally, tip-top, hip-hop, flip-flop, tic tac, sing song,
ding dong, King Kong & ping pong. Obviously,
the “rule” is unwritten so may be better thought a convention such as the one
which dictates why the words in “Little Red Riding Hood” appear in the familiar
order; there the convention specifies that in English, adjectives run in the textual
string: opinion; size; age; shape; colour; origin; material; purpose noun. Thus there are “little green men” but no “green
little men” and if “big bad wolf” is cited as a violation of the required “opinion
(bad); size (big); noun (wolf)” wolf, that’s because the I-A-O convention
prevails, something the BBC explains with a number of examples, concluding “Maybe the I, A, O sequence just sounds more
pleasing to the ear.”, a significant factor in the evolution of much that
is modern English (although that hardly accounts for the enduring affection
some have for proscribing the split infinitive, something which really has no
rational basis in English, ancient or modern.
All this is drawn from what is in structural linguistics called “Ablaut
Reduplication” (the first vowel is almost always a high vowel and the
reduplicated vowel is a low vowel) but, being English, “there are exceptions”
so the pragmatic “more pleasing to the
ear” may be helpful in general conversation.
Rolls-Royce, the Ford LTD and NVH
Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II,
1959. Interestingly, the superseded
Silver Cloud (1955-1958) might have been quieter still because the new, aluminium
6¼ litre (380 cubic inch) V8 didn’t
match the smoothness & silence of the previous cast iron, 4.9 litre (300
cubic inch) straight-six, despite the V8 being remarkably heavy for something made substantially from "light metal".
The “tick-tocking”
sound of a clock was for some years a feature of the advertising campaigns of
the Rolls-Royce Motor Company, the hook being that: “At 60 mph (100 km/h) the
loudest noise in a Rolls-Royce comes from the electric clock”. Motoring journalists did verify the claim (at least in ideal conditions) but given electric clocks can be engineered silently to function, the
conclusion was the company deliberately fitted time-pieces which emitted an untypically loud “tick-tock”, just to ensure the claims were true.
The Silver Clouds were, by the standards of the time, very quiet vehicles
but in the US, Ford decided they could mass-produce something quieter still and
at the fraction of the cost. Thus the
1965 Ford LTD, a blinged-up Ford (the add-on "gingerbread" in pre-bling days known as "gorp") advertised as: “Quieter than a Rolls-Royce”.
The test
conditions were recorded as: “Dry, level, moderately smooth concrete divided
highway; light quartering winds. All
cars operated at steady 20-, 40- and 60- mph with all vents closed”. The two Rolls-Royces were both standard
wheelbase Silver Cloud III saloons with the 6¼ litre (380 cubic inch) V8 and
four-speed automatic transmissions while the three Fords (a Galaxie 500 LTD, a
Galaxie 500/XL and a Galaxie 500 Four-Door Sedan) were all fitted with the 289
cubic inch (4.7 litre) V8 and three-speed Cruise-O-Matic automatic
transmission. The test results were
certified by the USAC (United States Auto Club).
To
ensure what must at the time have seemed an audacious claim couldn't be
dismissed as mere puffery, J. Walter Thompson, then Ford’s advertising agency
commissioned acoustical consultants Boldt, Beranek and Neuman to run tests, two
brand new Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III saloons purchased for the project. What the engineer’s decibel (dB) meters revealed
was that, under conditions that were controlled but representative of much of
the driving experience in the US, the Galaxies were indeed quieter inside than
a Rolls-Royce. Because of the way the dB
scale works, the differences (as great as 5.5 dB) were quite large and obvious
to the human ear. It was a reasonable
achievement in engineering and Ford, anticipating the ensuing controversy, was uncharacteristically
modest in claiming their 2.8 dB advantage at 60 mph was only “slight”, the
numbers making the point with no need for exaggeration. Ford didn’t mention the tick-tock of the clock.
Ford Galaxie 500/XL advertising, 1965. In the West, advertising has long been an exception to the general prohibition of the use of "child labor" (Lindsay Lohan was signed to Ford Models at the age of three and soon got her first gig!).
Ford did though “stack the deck”, a bit in configuring the Galaxies with their mildly tuned 289 V8 with a two-barrel carburettor; had the test included another variation on the
full-size line which used the 427 (7.0) V8, the results would have been
different, the raucous 427 side oiler offering many charms but they didn't extend to unobtrusiveness. Still, the choice was reasonable because the tune of the 289 was more representative of what most people bought. Amusingly, it wasn't the first time Rolls-Royce was surprised by the way things were done in Detroit. Years earlier, the company had obtained a licence to manufacture Cadillac's four-speed Hydramatic automatic transmission, then the benchmark of its type. Disassembling one, the Rolls-Royce engineers were surprised at the “rough finish” on some of the internal components and resolved their version would be built to their standards of precision. That done, a lovingly built Hydramatic was installed in a car and tested, the engineers surprised to find it didn't work very well and offered nothing like the smooth operation of the original. They contacted Cadillac and were told the prototype Hydramatics produced with universally fine tolerances had also misbehaved and the “roughness” of certain components deliberately was introduced to ensure the optimal frictional resistance was obtained.
Ford Galaxie 500 LTD advertising, 1965.
Not much noticed at the time was another intrusion. Although the trend had for years been creeping through the industry, what the 1965 LTD did was make blatant Ford's incursion into the market territory once reserved for the corporate stablemate, Mercury, the "middle class" brand between Ford & Lincoln. This intra-corporate cannibalism (which had already seen Chrysler shutter its DeSoto division) would have consequences, one of which was Mercury's eventual demise, another being Ford's competitors, noting the LTD's success, bringing their own interpretations to the market, the most successful of which was the Chevrolet Caprice (which enjoyed the same relationship to the Impala as the LTD had to the Galaxie 500). Notably, the Caprice contributed to the later extinction of the once highly popular Oldsmobile, squeezed from its niche by Chevrolet (from below) and Buick (from above). What were once gaps in the market, catered to by specific brands, ceased to exist.
1965 Ford LTD (technically a
“Galaxie 500 LTD” because in the first season the LTD was a Galaxie option, not
becoming a stand-alone model until the 1966 model year).
Even before the LTD was released the full-sized cars produced by the US industry featured the world's finest engine-transmission combinations and Ford justly deserves credit for what was achieved in 1965 because it wasn’t an exercise merely in adding sound
insulation. The previous models had a
good reputation for handling and durability but couldn’t match the smoothness and ride of competitive Chevrolets so within Ford was created a department dedicated to what
came to be called HVH (Noise, Vibration & Harshness) and this
team cooperated in what would now be understood as a “multi-disciplinary” effort,
working with body engineers and suspension designers to ensure all components
worked in harmony to minimize NVH. The idea was to craft a platform which, at least on the billiard table like surfaces of the nations freeways, would match the powertrains for smoothness and that was a task which would absorb much time and effort because the mildly-tuned V8 engines most customers bough were unobtrusive in their delivery and the automatic transmissions didn't so much change gears as slur effortlessly between ratios.
Ford Galaxie 500 LTD (with "Body/Chassis Puck") advertising with , 1965.
What
emerged was a BoF (Body on Frame) platform (a surprise to some as the industry
trend had been towards unitary construction) to ensure the stiffest possible
structure but the combination of the frame’s rubber body-mounts (which Ford dubbed "pucks" because of their similarity in size and shape to the rubber disks used in ice hockey), robust torque
boxes and a new, more compliant, coil-spring rear suspension delivered what even the competition's engineers (though probably not the sales staff) acknowledged was the industry’s quietest, smoothest ride. To solve the problem of troublesome vibrations, the material had before come to the rescue, a rubber layer for the carburettor mountings proving the solution to the resonance which, at certain road speeds, affected the flow of the fuel-air mix in the MGA Twin-Cam, resulting in pistons melting. Alas, the fix was discovered too late and the MGA was doomed. Norton had better luck with their Isolastic, a rubber-based engine mounting which disguised the chronic vibration on the Commando's 750
cm3 parallel twin, allowing the company (as something of a last gasp) to extract a (sometimes profitable) decade from what was an antiquated design.
Ford LTD advertising, 1980. The choice of
that Rolls-Royce was interesting, powder blue Silver
Shadows not often seen.
In geopolitics and economics, much changed between 1965 and 1980. Whereas Ford had once been able prove their Galaxie range (US$2,800-4,800) was quieter than a US$17,000 Rolls-Royce, by 1980 a LTD (the Galaxie name, dating from 1959 was retired after the 1974 season) sold typically for between US$6,400-8,000, reflecting the inflation which became entrenched during the 1970s. That was representative of the effect on domestically produced cars but an "entry-level" (the concept really was used even of cars from the more exulted) Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow cost a minimum US$65,000-odd and if that wasn't thought sufficiently conspicuous consumption, there was rather ungainly the two-door Camargue (1975-1986) which listed at US$148,000. That made even the blingiest (the stuff then still called "gingerbread", bling a coining from the late 1990s) LTD at US$8000 look good value although the few customers who bought Camargues (globally, barely more than 500 sold in a decade of leisurely production) probably weren't cross-shopping. Ford in the era made a bit of a thing of comparing their locally produced machines with high-priced stuff from across the Atlantic, one campaign showing how closely the US Granada (1975-1982) resembled various Mercedes-Benz and visually (if not dynamically) the company had a point... up to a point. These days it's Chinese designers who are accused of plagiarism although they often are more blatant in their copying, indeed, so shameless did things become that even the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) controlled courts granted relief to the Europeans. Reckoning however what worked in 1965 would still strike a (quiet) chord 15 years on, Ford re-ran their tests and, in a regulatory environment which was rather more exacting on advertising claims, asserted only that "The 1980 Ford LTD rides as quietly as a $65,000 Rolls-Royce". The tic-tock of the clock still didn't rate a mention.
