Tarmacadam

Tarmacadam (pronounced tahr-muh-kad-uhm)

(1) A paving material consisting of coarse crushed stone covered with a mixture of tar and bitumen.

(2) To cover or surface with tarmacadam.

1880–1885: The construct was tar + macadam (the spelling tar-macadam was also used).  Tar was from the Middle English ter, terr & tarr, from the Old English teoru, from the Proto-West Germanic teru, from the Proto-Germanic terwą (related to the Saterland Frisian Taar, the West Frisian tarre & tar, the Dutch teer & German Teer), from the primitive Indo-European derwo- (related to the Welsh derw (oaks), the Lithuanian dervà (pinewood, resin), the Russian де́рево (dérevo) (tree) and the Bulgarian дърво́ (dǎrvó) (tree)), from dóru (tree).  Tar described the black, oily, sticky, viscous substance, consisting mainly of hydrocarbons derived from organic materials such as wood, peat, or coal and it has been in use for millennia including as a water-proofing agent in the warships of Antiquity where it worked well but, being flammable, increased the vessels vulnerability to attack by “fire-ships”, an early “high-tech” weapon.  It’s used also as a descriptor of the solid residual by-product of tobacco smoke, seen often in anti-smoking campaigns, often demonstrating the effect on the lungs.  The old slang of a “tar” (also “jack tar”) being a sailor was unrelated to the hydrocarbon derivative and was a clipping of “tarpaulin”, allusion to the clothing seafarers wore.  In drug user slang, “black tar” was a form of heroin.  Tarmacadam is a noun & verb, and tarmacadaming & tarmacadamed are verbs; the noun plural is tarmcadams.

A Clan MacAdam family crest (there are many MacAdam crests and coats of arms).

The origin of the prefixes “Mc” & “Mac” in Scottish surnames lie in the Gaelic language historically was spoken in Scotland and both “son of”, thus indicating lineage, specifically to signify “son of” a particular person or ancestor (a la Robinson, Johnson et al).  Over centuries, the original “Mac” prefix was sometimes shortened to “Mc” but both forms are used interchangeable, carrying the same meaning.  The prefixes were an example of Celtic naming traditions (obviously most prevalent in Scotland & Ireland but also in other Gaelic-speaking regions) where surnames often were patronymic, based on the name of a father or ancestor.  Family lineage and heritage are important aspects in the naming traditions and conventions in many cultures and the “Mac” & Mc” use was the Gaelic practice.  The surname McAdam (also as MacAdam, Macadam & Mac Adaim (Irish)) belonged to a Scottish Gaelic clan which originated as a branch of Clan Gregor and although it has spread to many nations of the old British Empire (notably Ireland, the US, New Zealand, Australia and Canada), it is most prominent in the Galloway and Ayrshire regions of Scotland.

Clan MacAdam tartans: Reproduction (left), Modern (centre) and Ancient (right).  There are many Clan MacAdam tartans and the provenance of some may be dubious.  

The Gaelic “son of Adam” existed in those cases where the Biblical name had not been Gaelicized.  In this sense it was a companion of McGaw & MacGaw (from a Gaelicized form of the personal name) which in Ireland evolved as McCadden (in County Armagh) and McCaw (in County Cavan).  The Gaelic original seems to have been MacAdaim, introduced into both England and Scotland by twelfth century crusaders returning from the various (and usually unsuccessful) expeditions to “free” the Holy Land from Islamic control; Among the warrior crusaders, it was a fashion to give their children biblical names and because of the patronymic convention, they became elements in surnames from the thirteenth century onwards, MacAdam & McAdam proliferating.  So, given the etymology, it would be reasonable to assume tarmacadam might be pronounced tahr-mick-adam but even by the turn of the twentieth century it had become a stand-alone English word pronounced tahr-muh-kad-uhm.  

Tarmacadaming in progress (the worker on the right wielding a “tarmac rake”).  Like an iceberg, much of what a road is lies beneath. 

John McAdam (1756- 1836) was a Scottish civil engineer who specialized in road-building who in 1824 invented a process he called “macadamisation”.  His innovation was a system which enabled roads to be built with a smooth hard surface, using a defined mix of materials consisting particle of mixed sizes and predetermined structure; it offered the advantage of a surface which was more durable and less muddy than soil-based tracks.  Except when subjected to sustained periods of extreme weather, a characteristic of a “macadamed” surface was that vehicular transport tended to “compact and preserve” the integrity of the structure rather than wear and contribute to its deterioration.  However, as early as 1834 others began experimenting with tar (essentially as a sealant or sort of glue) as a way of strengthening a macadam road, increasing its durability, some of these enchantments involving both a top and underlying layer of tar and others adding to the surface alone.  Tar-augmented macadam was in use by the late nineteenth century but it never became widespread until the demands imposed by increasingly fast and heavy motorized vehicles.  John McAdam personally was never an advocate of the use of tar in road-building, his concern that there existed a tendency for such methods to “trap” water which would expand in sub-zero temperatures, causing the surface to break up; for this reason he preferred a structure which “breathed”, allowing the slight slope he engineered into his projects to permit natural drainage.

PavingExpert.com has a fine page explaining the terminology.

It was the Welsh civil engineer Edgar Hooley who in 1901 “invented” tarmacadam although “discovered” is a better description of what happened because the circumstances were serendipitous.  Mr Hooley was walking towards an ironworks when he observed an unusually smooth stretch of road and when he enquired what had caused the phenomenon, he was told a large barrel of tar had fallen onto the road and smashed, disgorging the contents which quickly spread, making a black, stick, mess.  Staff from the ironworks had been dispatched with a cart of slag (a waste-product from the blast furnaces with instructions to spread it across the road and Mr Hooley noted the impromptu resurfacing had solidified the road, giving it a marvelously smooth, consistent surface with no rutting and no dust.

Prototype William C Oastler steamroller, Cooke Locomotive factory, Paterson, New Jersey, 1899.

Within months, Mr Hooley had completed his design for a process he called “tarmac”.  This involved mechanically mixing tar and aggregate into a dispensing device which “laid-it-down” to be compacted with a steam-engine powered roller (the appropriately named “steamroller”).  What made the process possible was the basic tar being modified with the addition of pitch, cement & resin.  In 1902, Mr Hooley was granted a patent and the essence of his design remains in use today.  It produced good results but it was a more expensive method than the traditional approach but what radically reduced the cost was the emergence in the US of a large-scale petroleum industry which produced large quantities of bitumen as a by-product, something for which there was then little demand.  The sudden availability of vast quantities of bitumen meant coal tar could be replaced and Mr Hooley’s mechanized process then became a cheaper method of road building, the combination of the dispensing device and steamroller eliminating much of the labor-intensive activities inherent in the business of macadamisation; the most familiar modern version of the process in the “tar and chip” method which civil engineers refer to as BST (bituminous surface treatment).

Tarmacadam variations.

The classic tarmac surface is now rarely used although in a curious linguistic quirk, the word persists as a common term describing the apron outside airport passenger terminals (the “marshalling area” where aircraft are parked to allow passengers to embark & disembark (de-plane the current buzz phrase)) although these are now typically constructed with concrete.  In some markets “asphalt concrete” (the smooth, black surface sometimes called “road carpet”) but the word “tarmacadam” remains commonly used in road-building and other fields in civil engineering.  Technically, Tarmacadam should now correctly be referred to as “bituminous macadam” (“Bitmac” in professional slang) and it’s one of those processes which is appropriate for some jobs and not others, largely because while a relatively cheap method when used at large scale, for small areas it can be very expensive because the machinery is all designed to be deployed at scale.

On the tarmac: Lindsay Lohan in costume for Liz & Dick (2012), Van Nuys Airport, Los Angeles, June 2012.  Based on this image, the Van Nuys tarmac is of concrete construction.

Allegro

Allegro (pronounced uh-ley-groh or uh-leg-roh or ahl-le-graw (Italian)).

(1) In music, a tempo mark directing that a passage is to be played in a quick, lively tempo, faster than allegretto but slower than presto.

(2) In music (more traditionally), an expressive mark indicating that a passage is to be played in a lively or happy manner, not necessarily quickly.

(3) In music, a piece or passage to be performed in this manner (an allegro movement).

(4) In printing & typography, as the font Allegro, a serif typeface released in 1936 (initial upper case).

(5) In the history of the internet's lists of "the worst cars ever made", British Leyland's Austin Allegro (1973-1982) (initial upper case).

(6) In Italian use, a male given name (initial upper case).

1625–1635: From the Italian allegro (lively; happy, cheerful (feminine allegra, masculine plural allegri, feminine plural allegre, superlative allegrissimo)), from the French allègre, from the Latin alacer (nominative alacer) (lively, cheerful, brisk) (from which English later picked up alacrity).  The Italian allegretto (diminutive of allegro) in musical composition is the instruction to be (brisk & sprightly but not so quick as allegro) was coined in 1740 explicitly for its technical purpose in music and the alternative form was the adverb allegro non troppo, the construct being allegro (fast) + non (not) + troppo (too much), thus understood as "play fast but not too fast".   As well as the native Italian and the English allegro, composers in many languages use the term including in French allegro (the post-1990 spelling allégro), the Greek αλέγρος (alégros) & αλλέγκρο (allégkro), the Norwegian allegro, the Portuguese allegro (the alternative spelling alegro), the Turkish allegro and the Persian آلگرو.  Allegro is a noun, adjective & adverb; the noun plural is allegros (Initial upper case if used of the cars of appropriately named Italian males).

Use as a musical term didn’t actually begin until 1721.  Prior to that, since the early seventeenth century, English had used the word in the sense (brisk, sprightly; cheerful) picked up from Italian and Latin although the original spelling in English was aleger (lively, brisk) from Old French alegre, influenced by the Medieval Latin alacris.  What encouraged the use was the adoption of the word (in its literal sense) by John Milton (1608–1674) who included the poem L'Allegro" in his collection Poems (1645).  L'Allegro (the happy man) was a pastoral poem and critics regarded it as a companion piece for his Il Penseroso (the melancholy man), a work which in some ways anticipated the Romantic movement of the early nineteenth century.  The literary use extended to the term "allegro speech" (a relatively fast manner of speaking), once often used as a stage notation by playwrights although it seems now less common, replaced by terms better known to the young.  This fragment from Milton's L'Allegro is illustrative of the piece's rhythm and movement:

Haste thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jest and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods, and becks, and wreathbd smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple sleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his sides.
Come, and trip it as you go
On the light fantasric roe.

Lindsay Lohan merchandize on allegro.pl, a Polish e-commerce site.

The site presumably settled on the name allegro to convey the idea of speed (fast service, fast delivery etc).  Although the word allegro was never absorbed into the Polish language, because of the use in augmenting musical notation, it’s a familiar form throughout Europe.  Polish composer Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849) used it as a title for Allegro de concert in A major, Opus 46 and his work also included three “allegro” movements: Allegro maestoso (the first movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus. 11), Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Opus 11) and Allegro vivace (the third movement of the Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Opus 21).  In an appalling example of an attempt at normative moral relativism, while on trial before the International Military Tribunal (IMT) at Nuremberg (1945-1946), Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland during World War II) suggested that in mitigation for his direct complicity in mass-murder, he should receive some credit for establishing the Chopin Museum in Krakow, something “the Poles had never done”.  Voraciously corrupt (even by Nazi standards), Frank was protected by virtue of his past service as Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and remained in his palace until the military collapse of the General Government in 1945 during which some four million people were murdered under his rule.  Remarkably, he handed to the Allies dozens of volumes of his highly incriminating diaries and the IMT found him guilty under Count 2 (War Crimes) & Count 3 (Crimes Against Humanity), sentencing him to death by hanging.  His response to the sentence was to say: “I expected it, I deserved it”, adding: “A thousand years will pass and still this guilt of Germany will not have been erased.”  The latter sentiment he recanted while awaiting execution, suggesting the trial had provided something of a cleansing effect but at the time most regarded that as cynically as they noted his rediscovery of his long abandoned Roman Catholic faith.

Although book burning was associated with the era, much publishing was still done in Germany during the 1930s and the centre of the industry was Frankfurt.  In 1936 the city’s Ludwig & Mayer type foundry released the Allegro typeface, in the tradition of the nineteenth century Didone style but influenced also by the art deco designs which had become popular.  A serif design which relied for its effect on the alternation of thick and thin strokes, it uses breaks in the letter where thin strokes might be expected, hinting at the style of stencils with a touch of the inclination associated with calligraphy.  It was a popular typeface for decorative purposes such as book jackets or headings of musical notation but very much a display font, it works well only above a certain point size and is used almost exclusively for titles.

The Austin Allegro

Aesthetic success & failure: The Alfa-Romeo Alfasud (left) and the Austin Allegro (right).

Often featured (usually with several other products of British Leyland in the 1970s) in lists as among the worst cars ever made, the Austin Allegro was in production between 1973-1982 and actually sold in respectable numbers for most of that time although at only a third the rate of its remarkably popular predecessor (ADO16, the Morris 1100/1300 and its many badge-engineered siblings).  One much criticized aspect of the Allegro was the appearance; it was thought a bloated blob in an era of sharp-edges and wedges and the critique does illustrate just how narrow can be the margin between success and failure in the execution of a concept.  The Alfa Romeo Alfasud (1971-1983 (variants of the original produced until 1989)) adopted essentially the same shape and dimensions yet was praised as an elegant and well-balanced design.  Seen in silhouette, the shapes are similar yet in the metal, the detail differences, a mere inch (25 mm) or two here and there or a subtle change in an angle or curve and one emerges lithe, the other ponderous.

Harris Mann’s 1968 conceptual sketch for the Allegro project.

The Allegro’s portly appearance wasn’t the original intent.  Tasked with designing a replacement for ADO16, the stylist Harry Mann (1938-2023) sketched a modernist wedge, designed to accommodate what was at the time an advanced specification which included all-independent hydraulic suspension, front wheel drive, disk brakes and crucially, new, compact engines.  Mann however began the project while employed by Austin’s parent corporation, the British Motor Corporation (BMC) but by the time substantive work on the Allegro began, BMC had been absorbed into the Leyland conglomerate, a sprawling entity of disparate and now competing divisions which, if agonizingly reorganized, might have succeeded but such were the internal & external obstacles to re-structuring that, coupled with political turmoil and the economic shocks of the 1970s, it staggered to failure, something the later nationalization could only briefly disguise.  Thus Mann’s team learned the clean-lined wedge would have to be fattened-up because not only were the old, tall engines to be re-used but the new engines to be offered as options were bulkier still.  Installed at an angle, which would have demanding some re-engineering but would have been possible, that might have been manageable but what was not was the decision to use the corporate heater unit, developed at an apparently extraordinary cost; it could be installed just one way and it was a tall piece of machinery.  Allegro production ended in 1982 but what its appearance of all those "worst car ever" lists tends to obscure is it wasn't a commercial failure.  Although it sold only about a third the volume of its predecessor (the BMC ADO16 range) which was for most of the 1960s the UK's best-selling car (and an export success, especially in New Zealand), the Allegro existed in a much more competitive market.  Essentially, the Allegro was nearly a very good car and had it been produced by an outfit less inept than British Leyland, it'd probably now be better-remembered.

1976 Triumph TR7 coupé (left) and 1980 Triumph TR8 convertible (right).  It is wholly emblematic of British Leyland that just as the TR8 had become a good car with much unexplored potential, production ceased. 

Mann didn’t forget his 1968 sketch and when the opportunity later came to design a new sports car, his wedge re-appeared as one of the cars which most represented the design ethos of the 1970s: The Triumph TR7 (1974-1981) & TR8 (1977-1982) which weren't quite trouble-free but which sold quite well and, as the TR8 (which used the 3.5 litre (215 cubic inch) Rover V8), represented something in which the potential of the original was finally realized but it was too late for by then the disaster that was British Leyland had eaten itself.  

1960 Plymouth Fury four-door hardtop (left), 1974 Austin Allegro 1750 Sport Special (centre) and 2024 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 coupé (right).

The Allegro is remembered also for a steering wheel which was neither circular yet not exactly square.  Actually the idea wasn’t novel, dating back decades and had been used on quite a few American cars during the early 1960s but on the Allegro it attracted much derision, something not diminished by Leyland’s explanation that it was optimal for the car and afforded a good view of the instruments.  Leyland also attracted the scorn of mathematicians when they called the shape “quartic” because of it being “a square with rounded corners”.  However, technically, a quartic is “an algebraic equation or function of the fourth degree or a curve describing such an equation or function” and sqound (a portmanteau word, the construct being sq(uare) + (r)ound) is the ultimate niche word, the only known use by collectors of C4 Chevrolet Corvettes (1984-1996) describing the shift in 1990 from round to “a square with rounded corners” taillights.  Mathematicians insist the correct word for a "square with rounded corners" is "squircle" (in algebraic geometry "a closed quartic curve having properties intermediate between those of a square and a circle"), the construct being squ(are) +c(ircle).  Few etymologists (and certainly no lexicographers) appear to have listed sqound as a "real" word but it's of interest because it's a rare example of a word where a "q" is not followed by a "u"; such constructs do exist but usually in the cases where initialisms have become acronyms such as Qantas (Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services).  Such words do appear in English language texts but they tend to be foreign borrowings including (1) qat (or khat) (a plant native to East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, often chewed for its stimulant effects, (2) qi (a term from Chinese philosophy referring to life force or energy), qibla (the direction Muslims face when praying, towards the Kaaba in Mecca and (4) qiviut (the soft under-wool of the musk-ox, valued when making warm clothing).  For a while, Leyland pretended to ignored the pedants but within a year replaced the wheel with a conventional circular design.  Whatever the name, variations of the shape have since become popular with high-end manufacturers, Ferrari, Aston-Martin, Lamborghini and others all pursuing non-circular themes and one is a feature of the latest (C8) mid-engined Chevrolet Corvette, in which, unlike the unfortunate Allegro, it's much admired.

The antipodean Edsel: 1973 Leyland P76 Super V8 (left) and 1974 Leyland Force 7V (right).  Only 10 of the prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but although it offered the novelty of a hatchback, the styling was ungainly and the very market segment for which it was intended was close to extinction.  Even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony, in retrospect, charming.     

Although 1973 was the last “good year” for the “old” UK economy and one during which British Leyland was looking to the future with some optimism, the corporation’s troubles that year with steering wheels were, in retrospect, a harbinger for what lay ahead.  In addition to the Allegro, also introduced in 1973, on the other side of the planet, was the P76, a large (then a “compact” in US terms) sedan which Leyland Australia hoped would be competitive with the then dominant trio, GMH’s (General Motors Holden) Holden, Ford’s Falcon and Chrysler’s Valiant, the previous attempts using modified variants of UK models less than successful.  Leyland at the time kept expectations low, claiming the target was nothing more than a 10% market share and the initial reception the P76 received suggested this might more than be realized, the consensus of press reports concluding the thing was in many aspects at least as good as the opposition and in some ways superior, the country’s leading automotive that year awarding the V8 version the coveted COTY (Car of the Year) trophy.  Unfortunately, the circumstances of 26 June 1973 when the P76 was launched didn’t last, the first oil crisis beginning some four months later which resulted in a spike in the price of oil which not only suddenly dampened demand for larger cars but also triggered what was then the most severe and longest-lasting recession of the post-war years.  Basic design flaws in the body engineering and indifferent quality control contributed to the debacle which is now remembered as the Australian industry’s Edsel and in October 1974 production of the P76 ended and Leyland closed its Australian manufacturing facilities, never to re-open.

1973 P76 with the original sharp-edged steering wheel (left) and the later version, designed for the Force 7 (right).  The P76's steering wheel was one of many flaws which were planned to be rectified (or at least ameliorated) in the "facelifted" version scheduled for 1975 but before the end of 1974 the decision had been taken in London to axe the entire Leyland Australia project.    

Given the geo-political situation, rampant inflation and troubled industrial relations of the time, the P76’s steering wheel is really just a footnote in the sad tale but, like the Allegro’s “quartic” venture it was emblematic of the self-inflicted injuries to which Leyland would subject itself, both in the UK and its antipodean offshoot.  When the P76 made its debut in 1976, there was some comment that the steering wheel’s boss had a horn-pad in the shape of a boomerang, emphasizing the Australian connection but what was criticized was the rim which had bizarre, concave cross-section, meaning a quite sharp edge faced the driver, leaving an impression on the palms of the hands after only a few minutes driving.  The industry legend is the shape was a consequence of the typist (in 1973 it was accepted practice to blame women whenever possible) who prepared the final specification-sheet having mixed up “concave” & “convex” but even if that’s true it’s remarkable the obvious flaw in the design wasn’t rectified at the prototype stage.  Some have doubted the veracity of the story but such things do happen.  On 23 September, 1999, NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) lost the US$125 million Mars Climate Orbiter spacecraft after its 286-day journey to Mars and that was a time when US$125 million was still a lot of money.  There was of course the inevitable review which found the craft’s directional thrusters had, over the course of several months, been incorrectly fired because the control data had been calculated in incorrect units.  The contractor Lockheed Martin (responsible for the calculations) was sending data in Imperial measures (pounds) to NASA, while NASA's navigation team, expecting metric units, interpreted the numbers as Newtons).  As far as is known, neither the contractor nor the agency attempted to blame a typist.

How to make an Allegro look worse: 1976 Vanden Plas 1500.  The consensus among testers was the best place to enjoy a Vanden Plas 1500 was sitting in the back, amid the leather and walnut, most readers drawing the inference that was because one wouldn't have to look at the thing.  One less charitable scribe described it as "mutton dressed up as hogget". 

In another sign of the times, unlike ADO16, one basic vehicle which was badge-engineered to be sold under six brands (Austin, Morris, Riley, Wolseley, MG & Vanden Plas), the only variation of the Allegro was a luxury version by coach-builder Vanden Plas (although there were Belgium-built Allegros and Leyland's Italian operation produced some 10,000 between 1974-1975 as the Innocenti Regent), laden with leather, cut-pile carpeting and burl walnut trim including the picnic tables so beloved by English coachbuilders.  It didn't use the Allegro name and has always elicited condemnation, even from those who admired the Vanden Plas ADO16, presumably because the traditional upright grill attached to the front suited the earlier car's lines whereas the version which had to be flattened to fit the Allegro's pinched, pudgy nose looked just absurd.  Still, there's clearly some appeal because the Vanden Plas cars have the highest survival rate of all the Allegros and now enjoy a niche (one step below the GDR's (the German Democratic Republic; the old East Germany) Trabant (the infamous "Trabbi")) on the bottom rung of the collector car market.  One thing which may disappoint collectors is the Vanden Plas 1500 & 1750 (1974-1982) never used the "quartic" steering wheel although a photograph of one so-equipped did appear in the early brochures, printed before the decision was taken in mid-1974 to replace it with a conventional (circular) design.  The photograph was of what the the industry calls a "final pre-production prototype", a common practice.  

The Alfa Romeo Alfasud

The fate of many Alfasuds.

The Alfasud name (the construct being Alfa + sud) was an allusion to it being produced in a newly built factory in the Naples region, the decision taken after financial inducements were offered by the government, anxious to do something about the levels of unemployment and lack of economic development in the south of the country.  The Italian sud (south) was from the French sud, from Old English suþ, from Proto-Germanic sunþrą.  As a plan it made sense to politicians and economists but, industrial relations being what they were at the time, the outcome was less than ideal.    

In one aspect, the Allegro and Alfasud (1971-1989) were wholly un-alike, the latter infamous for its propensity to rust, a trait shared with many mass-produced Italian cars of the era, the only consolation for Alfasud owners being the contemporary Lancia Beta suffered even more.  The Alfasud's rust-resistance did improve over the years but it remained a problem until the end of production and the industry story has always been that in the barter economy which was sometime conducted between the members of the EEC (European Economic Community, an ancestor organization of the latter-day European Union (EU)) and those of the Warsaw Pact (the alliance between the USSR and its satellite states which essentially duplicated the structure of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)), Italian manufactured goods were exchanged for Russian steel which was reputedly re-cycled but anyway turned out to be of poor quality and essentially porous.  The story certainly is a good fit for the narrative of maladministration and corruption that was Italy in the 1970s but subsequent research has revealed it to be a myth, the sheet metal used in the Neapolitan factory at Pomigliano d’Arco where Alfasuds were made the same stuff that Alfa Romeo used in the facility at Arese in Milan where the Giulia range was produced and their reputation for resisting rust was good.  The evidence suggests all the steel used by the company's local operations came from the state owned Taranto steel mills.  Intriguingly, the factories south & north all used the same paints and the ovens & paint booths were a decade-odd newer in Naples.

Variations on the Alfasud theme: The Sprint (1976-1989, left) and Giardinetta (station wagon or estate-car) (1975-1980, right).

Given all that, the startlingly premature corrosion surprised many within Alfa Romeo and in 1977 a project-team began to investigate the causes and it was afforded some urgency given the reputational damage being suffered by the whole company (ie profits were suffering).  Having determined the core components (paint & steel) weren't to blame, the engineers deconstructed the production process including the system of movement (how the partially completed cars proceeded from start to finish).  What the team found was that while the electrophoresis baths at Pomigliano were state of the art, the inexperienced (and sometimes indifferently-minded) workforce operated them without adequate supervision and quality control, something exacerbated by the chronically bad labor relations, the factory beset by rolling strikes which meant unpainted bodies were often sitting for days.  In the humid climate of the south, condensation gathered, many cars already rusting even before eventually receiving a coat of paint and that the plant was less than 10 miles (16 km) from the coast and the prevailing winds blew from the sea added to the problem, the unpainted Alfasuds often left for days damp with salty moisture.

1983 Alfa Romeo Alfasud Ti QV Green Cloverleaf, one of the industry's longer model names.

The team's findings resulted in a change to the production process for the revised Series 2 Alfasuds launched in December 1977.  The critical parts of the bodyshell now used "Zincrometal" (steel coated with a primer which was a mix of chromium, zinc and an organic bonding resin, baked at 160°C (320°F) which was as good as anything used in the industry.  As a added precaution, a polyurethane foam was injected into the body's boxed sections with a flexible plastic sealant applied at the seams to prevent moisture intrusion.  That had the added benefit of reducing noise vibration & harshness (NVH) while adding little extra weight.  Unfortunately, the tests the engineers conducted to prove the design was waterproof relied on perfectly applied sealant at the junctions but the poor quality control continued and many seams were poorly sealed which meant the foam acted as a moisture store, making the problem worse.  By contrast, whatever its other faults, and there were a few, the Allegro resisted rust like few cars built anywhere during the era, the design sound and that 1970s British Leyland paint thick and durable.  In the years that followed, many would criticize the sometimes lurid and even sickly shades but as a protective coating, it did the job.

Ultimate Alfasud: The Giocattolo.

The much admired coupé variant of the Alfasud was sold as the Alfasud Sprint (1976-1983) and the Sprint (1983-1989); it proved rather more rust resistant.  It was subject to continuous product improvement and fitted with progressively larger and more powerful engines although none were larger than 1.7 litres (104 cubic inches) which limited its use in competition to events where outright speed mattered less than balance and handling.  It handling was about as good as front wheel drive (FWD) got and in events such as hill climbs the things are competitive even today.  The ultimate Alfasud however was the Giocattolo (a play on the Italian word meaning “toy”), built between 1986-1989 in a batch of 15 on Australia’s Sunshine Coast in Queensland.  Instead of the small four-cylinder engines, the Giocattolo was fitted with a mid-mounted 304 cubic inch (5.0 litre) Holden V8, driving the rear wheels through a ZF five-speed transaxle, the combination yielding a top speed of 160 mph (257 km/h), a useful increase of 40 mph (65 km/h) over the fastest of the factory Sprints.  As impressive as the mechanical specification was, the Giocattolos are best remembered for the unusual standard feature of a 375 ml bottle of Bundaberg Rum (the Sunshine Coast's most famous product which began as a way to use a waste-product of sugar-cane processing) and two shot glasses as part of the toolkit.  These days, a company would be cancelled for such a thoughtful inclusion.

Masticate

Masticate (pronounced mas-ti-keyt)

(1) To chew (usually food).

(2) To reduce materials (such as rubber) to a pulp by crushing or kneading.

1640–1650: From the Late Latin masticātus, past participle of masticāre (to chew), from the past participle stem of the post-Classical Latin masticō (I chew), from the Ancient Greek μαστιχάω (mastikháō) (I gnash the teeth”).  The English masticate was a back-formation of the earlier mastication.  The noun mastic (gum or resin obtained from certain small trees of the Mediterranean region and in various places east of Suez used as a chewing gum) emerged in the late fourteenth century and was from mastic, from the thirteenth century Old French mastic and directly from Late Latin mastichum, from the Classical Latin mastiche, from the Ancient Greek mastikhe, of uncertain origin but probably in some way connected with masasthai (to chew) and thus related to the modern mastication.  The etymologists are divided on whether the Ancient Greek mastikhan (to gnash the teeth) was from the primitive Indo-European mendh- (to chew (and the ultimate source of mandible) or of pre-Greek origin.  Masticate, masticated & masticating are verbs, masticatory, masticator & mastication are nouns and masticable is an adjective; the noun plural is mastications.

All forms tend now to be seen in specialised niches, masticatory almost always in medical or scientific literature and seems to be a favorite in entomology while masticable (capable of being chewed, that may be masticated) appeared first in 1802, quickly adopted by dieticians in hospitals & zoos although it has survived only in the latter.  Other than for technical purposes, masticate’s most obvious niche is in humor, the effect achieved by using the word in a way easily confused with the almost homophonic masturbate, a device used also with the thespian/lesbian homophone.  So usually, unless one is discussing the eating habits of insects or aiming for humorous effect, the monosyllabic “chew” is a better choice.

Thespian Lindsay Lohan with cheeseburger, masticating.

The verb chew (masticate, bite and grind with the teeth) was from the Middle English cheuen, from the Old English ceowan, from the West Germanic keuwwan (source also of the Middle Low German keuwen, the Dutch kauwen, the Old High German kiuwan and the German kauen).  The source may have been from the primitive Indo-European gyeu- (to chew), source of the Old Church Slavonic živo (to chew), the Lithuanian žiaunos (jaws) and the Persian javidan (to chew).  The figurative sense (to to think over (usually as “chew on it”)) dates from the late fourteenth century, the origin said to be “dinner table discussions over pieces of bacon fat”.  For humorous effect, the process is sometimes described as “mental mastication”.  Later variations include “to chew the rag” (discuss some matter), first documented in 1885 as army slang although there are claims it began both in the British Army and the Indian Army under the Raj.  To “chew the fat” meant the same thing and was mid-twentieth century slang.  . To chew (someone) out was first cited in 1948 but was thought to be military slang from World War II (1939-1945), the idea being having been “chewed up and spat out”.  As a packaged product, chewing gum was first sold in the US in 1843, the early formulations being hardened secretions from the spruce tree.

The purported fallacy

The purported fallacy is a rhetorical device intended to confuse or suggest irrelevant considerations into the mind of the listener,  It’s related to but distinct from the “red herring” (in figurative use, a clue, information, argument, etc. that is or is intended to be misleading, diverting attention from the real answer or issue).  A well-known example from the US is often quoted but is unfortunately a myth, fake news in its time but still refusing to die.  In the Florida primary contest for the Democratic nomination in the 1950 Senate campaign, Claude Pepper (1900–1989; Democrat Senator for Florida 1936-1951, Democrat member of House of Representatives (Florida 1963-1989)) lost to George Smathers (1913–2007; Democrat member of House of Representatives (Florida) 1947-1951 and Democrat Senator for Florida 1951-1969).  Smathers had managed Pepper's successful 1938 campaign and the association continued, Pepper pulling strings so Smathers could avoid military service during World War II (1939-1945) and helping him become an assistant attorney-general.

The 1950 Senate election in Florida was noted for flamboyant oratory, ideological ferocity and personal dramas but that was neither novel nor unique to Florida, indeed, by mid twentieth century thing had been toned-down from what had prevailed during much of the 1800s.  Smathers labeled his opponent “Red” Pepper which, if unfair, was funny and, in the early Cold War, a not unusual tactic, Senator Joe McCarthy (1908–1957; senator for Wisconsin (Republican) 1947-1957) that year having delivered his inflammatory Lincoln Day speech in which he claimed to have list of known communists employed by the State Department.  However, what arose during the campaign was the legend that Smathers, assuming low education and high prejudice in the minds of some voters, had made speeches in rural areas accusing his opponent of being “a shameless extrovert”, having “a sister who was once a thespian in wicked New York”, having "practiced celibacy before his marriage" and being someone “who had been seen masticating fish”.

Irresistibly good copy, the words appeared in the 17 April issue of Time magazine and despite cautioning they were “of doubtful authenticity” they’ve for decades been recycled, used for illustrative effect for this and that across the political spectrum; Robert Sherrill (1924-2014) on the left and William F Buckley (1925–2008) on the right, both claiming it happened.  The truth (which Buckley later acknowledged), was the words turned out to be the work of journalists covering the campaign who, over drinks, began inventing double-talk quotations and swapping them.  It became a contest to see who could write the funniest and some of them leaked, published as fact.  After decades of estrangement, a Pepper fund-raising letter ended up in Smathers' office.  Smathers responded with a contribution and Pepper, after joking that the cheque bounced, sent a note of thanks.  Smathers said he would contribute to Pepper as long as he was in the Congress as a champion of the elderly, adding he was now “old enough to where I kind of feel like he may speak for me''.

Satirists work in a similar vein to those tipsy reporters.  In 2006, in a parody of the attack ads the Liberal Party was using against Stephen Harper’s (b 1959; prime minister of Canada 2006-2015) Conservative Party government, National Public Radio (NPR) offered:

Stephen Harper has plans for Canada, scary plans.  Scary, evil plans.  We can't make this up, we're not allowed to. Stephen Harper owns a dragon.  He keeps it in a shed. Seriously.  Stephen Harper drinks his own blood.  We saw him. We're not allowed to make this up.  The Liberal Party, let's see how badly we can lose this thing.

Tartan

Tartan (pronounced tahr-tn)

(1) A woolen or worsted cloth woven with stripes of different colours and widths crossing at right angles, worn chiefly by the Scottish Highlanders, many clans now having its own distinctive design.

(2) A design now often identified by the name of the clan wearing it and most associated with the kilt.

(3) A generalized descriptor for any similar (sometimes called plaid) design.

(4) A single-masted vessel used in the Mediterranean, usually with a lateen sail (also spelled as tartane).

(5) The trade name of a synthetic resin, used for surfacing tracks etc.

1490-1500: Of uncertain origin, apparently a blend of the Middle English tartaryn (rich material) from the Middle French tartarin (Tartar cloth) and the Middle French tiretaine (strong coarse fabric; linsey-woolsey; cloth of mixed fibers) from the Old French tiret (kind of cloth), from tire (oriental cloth of silk) (and as the French tartane from the Italian tartana, of uncertain origin) from the Medieval Latin tyrius (material from Tyre), from the Classical Latin Tyrus (Tyre).  The origin of the name as applied to the small ship most associated with the Mediterranean, dates from seventeenth century French, probably the Provençal tartana (falcon, buzzard), it being common practice in the era to name ships after birds.  As an adjective meaning "design with a pattern of bars or stripes of color crossing one another at right angles", use began circa 1600.  The etymology of the fabric is certainly murky.  Most agree about the influence of the Old French tertaine but some trace the origin of that not to Latin via Italian but rather the Old Spanish tiritaña (a fine silk fabric) from tiritar (to rustle).  The spelling of tartan must have been influenced in Middle English by tartaryn from the Old French tartarin from Tartare (“Tartar," the people of Central Asia).  Tartan & tartanization are nouns, tartanize & tartaning are verbs and tartaned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is tartans.

Lindsay Lohan in tartan, Freaky Friday (2003) costume test photo (Walt Disney Pictures).

Despite the perception of many (encouraged by the depictions in popular culture), tartan in the sense of specific color & pattern combinations attached to specific clans is something of recent origin.  Tartan (breacan (pɾʲɛxkən) in Scots Gaelic) is a patterned cloth consisting of criss-crossed, horizontal and vertical bands in multiple colours.  The word plaid is now often used interchangeably with tartan (particularly in North America and when not associated with anything Scottish (especially kilts)), but technically (and always in Scotland), a plaid is a large piece of tartan cloth, worn as a type of kilt or large shawl although it’s also used to describe a blanket.  During the disputes between England and Scotland, the wearing of tartan became a political expression and the Dress Act (1746) was part of the campaign to suppress the warrior clans north of the border; it banned tartan and other aspects of Gaelic culture. The law was repealed in 1782 and tartan was soon adopted as both the symbolic national dress of Scotland and in imagery more generally.  

Car seat covers in Clan Lindsay Tartan.  The Clan Lindsay motto is Endure Fort (Endure bravely).

Although there’s now an industry devoted to the tartans of the clans, the specific association of patterns with clans and families began only in the mid-nineteenth century.  This history was both technological and economic deterministic.  Unlike some fabrics, tartans were produced by local weavers for local sale, using only the natural dyes available in that geographical area and patterns were just designs chosen by the buyer.  It was only with a broader availability of synthetic dyes that many patterns were created these began (somewhat artificially) to become associated with Scottish clans, families, or institutions wishing to emphasize their Scottish heritage.  The heritage was usually real but not often specific to a particular tartan, the mid-nineteenth century interest in the fabrics a kind of manufactured nostalgia.  There are many modern tartans on sale, the color combinations and patterns of which are chosen for market appeal rather than any relationship to clan identity or any other historic link: Among the purists, these collectively are called "the clan McGarish".  The phrase "Tartan Tory" does not refer to Scottish members of the Conservative Party (a once prolific species which has for decades been listed as "threatened" and may already be functionally extinct) but to the faction of the Scottish National Party (SNP) which is associated with cultural nostalgia rather than radical nationalist politics

High-priced plaid

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198) trimmed in blue-grey plaid.

Buyers of the Mercedes-Benz 300SL Gullwing (W198 1954-1957) had the choice of seats covered in leather or plaid cloth.  In the years since, many Gullwings originally fitted with plaid upholstery were re-trimmed in leather during refurbishment or restoration, partly because the leather was thought to have more of a allure but also because for decades fabrics exactly matching what was available in the 1950s had become unobtainable ("unobtainium" thus the preferred industry term).  However, in 2018, in what was said to be a response to demand, Daimler announced bolts replicating exactly the original three designs (blue-gray, red-green and green-beige color) would again be available as a factory part-number.  Manufactured to the 1955 specification using an odor-neutral wool yarn woven into a four-ply, double weave twill, it’s claimed to be a “very robust material”.  In the era, the blue-gray fabric was the most popular, fitted to 80% of 300SLs not trimmed in leather while the red-green and green-beige combinations were requested respectively only by 14 & 6% of buyers.  The price (US$229 per yard) is indicative of the product’s niche market but for those restoring a 300 SL to its original appearance, it's a bargain.

The part-numbers:  Blue-Grey: A 000 983 44 86 / 5000, Red-Green: A 000 983 44 86 / 3000 & Green-Beige: A 000 983 44 86 / 6000.