Superbird

Superbird (pronounced soo-per-burd)

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

(2) A one-off Ford Falcon XA GT built by Ford Australia for the motor show circuit in 1973 (and subsequently a derived (though much toned-down) regular production model offered for a limited time).

1969: The construct was super + bird.  The Middle English super was a re-purposing of the prefix super, from the Latin super, from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above) and cognate with the Ancient Greek ὑπέρ (hupér).  In this context, it was used as an adjective suggesting “excellent quality, better than usual; wonderful; awesome, excellent etc.  Bird was from the Middle English bird & brid, from the Old English bridd (chick, fledgling, chicken).  The origin was a term used of birds that could not fly (chicks, fledglings, chickens) as opposed to the Old English fugol (from which English gained the modern “fowl”) which was the general term for “flying birds”.  From the earlt to mid-fourteenth century, “bird” increasingly supplanted “fowl” as the most common term.  Superbird is a noun; the noun plural is Superbirds and an initial capital is appropriate for all uses because Superbird is a product name.

Of super- and supra-

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

Superbirds of the northern & southern hemispheres

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

The Plymouth Superbird was a "homologation special" build only for the 1970 model year.  By the mid 1950s, various NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) competitions had become wildly popular and the factories (sometimes in secret) provided support for the racers.  This had started modestly enough with the supply of parts and technical support but so tied up with prestige did success become that soon some manufacturers established racing departments and, officially and not, ran teams or provided so much financial support some effectively were factory operations.  NASCAR had begun as a "stock" car operation in the literal sense that the first cars used were "showroom stock" with only minimal modifications.  That didn't last long, cheating was soon rife and in the interests of spectacle (ie higher speeds), certain "performance enhancements" were permitted although the rules were always intended to maintain the original spirit of using cars which were "close" to what was in the showroom.  The cheating didn't stop although the teams became more adept in its practice.  One Dodge typified the way manufactures used the homologation rule to effectively game the system.  The homologation rules (having to build and sell a minimum number of a certain model in that specification) had been intended to restrict the use of cars to “volume production” models available to the general public but in 1956 Dodge did a special run of what it called the D-500 (an allusion to the number built to be “legal”).  Finding a loophole in the interpretation of the word “option” the D-500 appeared in the showrooms with a 260-hp V8 and crossed-flag “500” emblems on the hoods (bonnet) and trunk (boot) lids, the model’s Dodge’s high-performance offering for the season.  However there was also the D-500-1 (or DASH-1) option, which made the car essentially a race-ready vehicle and one available as a two-door sedan, hardtop or convertible (the different bodies to ensure eligibility in NASCAR’s various competitions).  The D-500-1 was thought to produce around 285 hp from its special twin-four-barrel-carbureted version of the 315 cubic inch (5.2 litre) but more significant was the inclusion of heavy-duty suspension and braking components.  It was a successful endeavour and triggered both an arms race between the manufacturers and the ongoing battle with the NASCAR regulators who did not wish to see their series transformed into something conested only by specialized racing cars which bore only a superficial resemblance to the “showroom stock”.  By the 2020s, it’s obvious NASCAR surrendered to the inevitable but for decades, the battle raged.

1970 Plymouth Superbird (left) and 1969 Dodge Daytona (right) by Stephen Barlow on DeviantArt.  Despite the visual similarities, the aerodynamic enhancements  differed between the two, the Plymouth's nose-cone less pointed, the rear wing higher and with a greater rake.  

By 1969 the NASCAR  regulators had fine-tuned their rules restricting engine power and mandating a minimum weight so manufacturers resorted to the then less policed field of aerodynamics, ushering what came to be known as the aero-cars.  Dodge made some modifications to their Charger which smoothed the air-flow, labelling it the Charger 500 in a nod to the NASCAR homologation rules which demanded 500 identical models for eligibility.  However, unlike the quite modest modifications which proved so successful for Ford’s Torino Talladega and Mercury’s Cyclone Spoiler, the 500 remained aerodynamically inferior and production ceased after 392 were built.  Dodge solved the problem of the missing 108 needed for homologation purposes by introducing a different "Charger 500" which was just a trim level and nothing to do with competition but, honor apparently satisfied on both sides, NASCAR turned the same blind eye they used when it became clear Ford probably had bent the rules a bit with the Talladega.

Superbirds: 1970 Plymouth Road Runner Superbird in "Lime Light" (left) and Lindsay Lohan (right), generated in AI (artificial intelligence) as a superbird by Stable Diffusion.

Not discouraged by the aerodynamic setback, Dodge recruited engineers from Chrysler's aerospace & missile division (which was being shuttered because the Nixon-era détente had just started and the US & USSR were beginning their arms-reduction programmes) and quickly created the Daytona, adding to the 500 a protruding nosecone and high wing at the rear.  Successful on the track, this time the required 500 really were built, 503 coming of the line.  NASCAR responded by again moving the goalposts, requiring manufacturers to build at least one example of each vehicle for each of their dealers before homologation would be granted, something which typically would demand a run well into four figures.  Plymouth duly complied and for 1970 about 2000 Superbirds (NASCAR acknowledging 1920 although Chrysler insists there were 1,935) were delivered to dealers, an expensive exercise given they were said to be invoiced at below cost.  Now more unhappy than ever, NASCAR lawyered-up and drafted rules rendering the aero-cars uncompetitive and their brief era ended.

The graphic for the original Road Runner (1968, left) and the version used for the Superbird (1970, right).  Both were created under licence from Warner Brothers, like the distinctive "beep-beep" horn sound, the engineering apparently as simple as replacing the aluminium strands in the mechanism with copper windings.  The fee for the name was US$50,000 with the rights to the "beep-beep" invoiced at a further US$10,000.  

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

1969 Plymouth Road Runner advertisement.

The price was impressive but what attracted the interest of the amateur sociologists was the same Daytona in May 2022 sold for US$1.3 million when offered by Mecum at their auction held at the Indiana State Fairgrounds.  The US$1.3 million was at the time the highest price then paid for a Hemi Daytona (of the 503 Daytonas built, only 70 were fitted with the Hemi and of those, only 22 had the four-speed manual) and the increase in value by some 250% was obviously the result of something other than the inflation rate.  The consensus was that although the internet had made just about all markets inherently global, local factors can still influence both the buyer profile and their behaviour, especially in the hothouse environment of a live auction.  Those who frequent California’s central coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco include a demographic not typically found in the mid-west and among other distinguishing characteristics there are more rich folk, able to spend US$3.36 million on a half-century old car they’ll probably never drive between the purchase and offering again at auction.  That’s how the collector market works, the cars now essentially the same sort of commodity as paintings or other pieces of art.

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

Plymouth paid Warner Brothers US$50,000 to licence the Road Runner trademark but “Superbird” was free to use which must have been pleasing, the avian reference an allusion to the big wing at the rear.  Curiously, had Buick a half-decade earlier decided to pursue what seems in retrospect a “sales department thought bubble”, Plymouth would have had to come up with something else because in 1965 Buick did run a one-off advertisement for their new Skylark Grand Sport (the marque’s toe in the muscle car water) with the copy headed “Superbird”.  It may seem strange Buick had been tempted to enter the muscle car business because, by the time Alfred P Sloan’s (1875–1966; president of General Motors (GM) 1923-1937 and Chairman of the Board 1937-1946) had settled down in 1940, Buick was second only to Cadillac in the GM corporate hierarchy with Chevrolet at the bottom, followed by Pontiac and Oldsmobile.  However, the unexpected success the year earlier of Pontiac’s GTO had proved an irresistible temptation: there were profits to be made.  As it was, Cadillac was the only GM division in the era not to sell a muscle car although the 1970 Eldorado was rated at 400 horsepower (hp), a bigger number than many muscle cars although bizarrely, it was FWD (front wheel drive) and has never been thought part of the ecosystem.

1936 Buick Century, debatably the "first muscle car" although in the mid 1930s, although some fanciful names appeared, it's unlikely anyone would have thought of "Road Runner" or "Superbird".

Although the definition of “muscle car” is by some contested (though nobody thinks it encompasses FWD), the one preferred by the purists is: “a big engine from a big, heavy car installed in a smaller, lighter car” and for Buick, the approach really wasn’t novel.  Although in 1936 the improvement in the economy remained patchy (and would soon falter), Buick rang in the changes, re-naming its entire line.  Notably, one newly designated offering was the Century, a revised version of the model 60, created by replacing the 233 cubic inch (3.8 litre) straight eight with the 320 cubic inch (5.2 litre) unit from the longer, heavier Roadmaster.  Putting big engines into small cars was nothing new and during the interwar years some had taken the idea to extremes, using huge aero-engines, but those tended to be one-offs for racing or speed-record attempts.  In Europe, (slightly) larger engines were sometimes substituted and British manufacturers often put six cylinder power-plants where once there had been a four but their quest was usually for smoothness and refinement rather than outright speed and the Century was really the first time a major manufacturer had used the concept in series production and by many it’s acknowledged as the last common ancestor (LCA) of the muscle car.

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

1970 Buick GSX brochure.

Buick in 1970 made available the GSX “Performance and Handling Package” which added a hefty US$1,100 to the GS 455’s base price US$3,098, a factor in it attracting only 678 (presumably most-content) buyers.  The straight-line performance was impressive.  While it couldn’t match the ability of genuine race-bred engines like the Chrysler Street Hemi, Ford Boss 429 or the most lusty of the big-block Chevrolets effortlessly to top 140 mph (225 km/h), on the drag strip, the combination of the prodigious low-speed torque and relatively light weight meant it could be a match for just about anything.  The use of “Stage 1” of course implied there would be at least a “Stage 2” (a la Pontiac’s Ram Air II, III, IV etc) but the world was changing and only a handful of "Stage 2" components were assembled and shipped to dealers.  While both the GSX and Stage 1 would live until 1972, 1970 would be peak Buick.

1967 Dodge Coronet R/T advertisement.

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

Australia's Ford Falcon Superbirds 

1973 XA Ford Falcon GT Superbird, built for the show circuit. 

Based on the then-current XA Falcon GT Hardtop, Ford Australia’s original Superbird was a one-off created for display at the 1973 Sydney and Melbourne Motor Shows, the purpose of the thing to distract attention from Holden’s new, four-door Monaro model, a range added after the previous year’s limited production SS had generated sufficient sales for the “proof-of-concept” to be judged a success.  Such tactics are not unusual in commerce and Ford were responding to the Holden’s earlier release of the SS being timed deliberately to steal the thunder expected to be generated by the debut of the Falcon Hardtop.  Although it featured a new "rough-blend" upholstery and a power-steering system with the rim-effort increased from 4 to 8 lbs (1.8 to 3.6 kg), mechanically, the Superbird show car was something of a “parts-bin special” in that it differed from a standard GT Hardtop mostly in the use of some of the components orphaned when the plan run of 250-odd (Phase 4) Falcon GTHOs was cancelled after in 1972 a Sydney tabloid newspaper had stirred a moral panic with one of their typically squalid and untruthful stories about “160 mph (258 km/h) supercars” soon to be available to males ages 17-25 (always a suspect demographic in the eyes of a tabloid editor).  Apparently, it was a “slow news day” so the story got moved from the sports section at the back to the front page where the headline spooked the politicians who demanded the manufacturers not proceed with the limited-production specials which existed only to satisfy the homologation rules for competition.  Resisting for only a few days, the manufacturers complied and within a week the nation’s regulatory body for motor sport announced the end of “series-production” racing and that in future the cars used on the track would no longer need to be so closely related to those available in showrooms.

1973 XA Ford Falcon GT Superbird with model in floral dress.

The Falcon GT Superbird displayed at the motor shows in 1973 however proved something of a harbinger in that it proved a bit of a “trial run” for future ventures in which parts intended solely for racing would be added to a sufficient number of vehicles sold to the public to homologate them for use on the circuits.  In that sense, the mechanical specification of the Superbird previewed some of what would later in the year be supplied (with a surprising amount of car-to-car variability) in RPO83 (regular production option 83) including the GTHO’s suspension settings, a 780 cfm (cubic feet per minute) carburetor, the 15” x 7” aluminium wheels, a 36 (imperial) gallon (164 litre) fuel tank and some of the parts designed for greater durability under extreme (ie on the race track) conditions.  Cognizant of the effect the tabloid press has on politicians, none of the special runs in the immediate aftermath of the 1972 moral panic included anything to increase performance.

Toned down: 1973 Ford Falcon 500 Hardtop with RPO77 (Superbird option pack).

Most who saw the Superbird probably didn’t much dwell on the mechanical intricacies, taken more by the stylized falcon which extended for three-quarters the length of the car.  It was the graphic which no doubt generated publicity in a way the specification sheet never could and it was made available through Ford dealers but the take-up rate was low so which it was decided to capitalize on the success of the show car by releasing a production Superbird (as RPO77), the graphic had been reduced to one about 18 inches (450 mm) in length which was applied to the rear quarters, an ever smaller version appearing on the glovebox lid.  In keeping with that restraint, RPO 77 included only “dress-up” items and a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8 in the same mild-mannered state of tune as the versions sold to bank managers and such and very different from the high-compression 351 (5.8) in the show car.  Still, RPO 77 did succeed in stimulating interest in the two-door Hardtop, sales of which had proved sluggish after the initial spike in 1972; some 750 were built and that all but 200 were fitted with an automatic transmission was an indication of the target market.  In Australia, the surviving Superbirds are now advertised for six figure sums while the surviving three Phase 4 GTHOs (the fourth was destroyed in a rally which seems an improbable place to use such a thing) can command over a million.  The 1973 show car was repainted from "Pearl Silver" to its original "Wild Violet" before being sold.

Dogdish

Dogdish (pronounced dog-dish or dawg-dish)

(1) The dish in which a pet dog’s meals are served (probably a rare use because “dog bowl” is the more common (an accurate) descriptor.

(2) In US use, the style of simple hubcap used in the 1960s & 1970s for low-cost vehicles (especially for fleet operators such as police forces) or certain high-performance cars (including those ordered for competition use).

1940s or 1950s (in the automotive context): The word dog pre-dates the eleventh century and was from the Middle English dogge (akin to the Scots dug), from the Old English dogga & docga, of uncertain origin.  The documentary evidence from a thousand years ago is unsurprisingly scant but does suggest “dog” was used to mean something like the modern “cur” or “mutt” (ie a common or stray dog as opposed to one of good breeding), later refined to be applied to “large or stocky canines”.  The Old English dogga & docga may have been a pet-form diminutive of dog, the appended suffix -ga also used of pet frogs (frocga) and pigs (picga).  The ultimate source of dog (and the meaning) is uncertain but there may be some link with the Old English dox (dark, swarthy) or the Proto-West Germanic dugan (to be suitable), the latter the origin of the Old English dugan (to be good, worthy, useful), the English dow, the Dutch deugen and the German taugen.  It’s all speculative but the most supported theory appears to be it was likely a children’s epithet for dogs meaning something like “good creature”.  Less supported is the notion of a relationship with docce (stock, muscle), from the Proto-West Germanic dokkā (round mass, ball, muscle, doll), from which English gained dock (stumpy tail) and ultimately (in that context) docking (the removal of a tail.  In England, as late as the early fifteenth century, the common words used of domestic canines was hound, from the Old English hund while dog tended to be restricted to a sub-type resembling the modern mastiff and bulldog.  In the way English tends towards shorter forms, by the sixteenth century dog had become the general word with hound increasingly a specialist word used of hunt dogs (accounting for all those English pubs called “The fox & hounds”.  At the same time, the word dog was adopted by several continental European languages as their word for mastiff although this use didn’t persist as “dog” became more generalized.  Etymologists note that despite the overlaps in form and meaning, the English word was not related to the Mbabaram dog.  Dish predated the tenth century and was from the Middle English dish & disch, from the Old English disċ (plate; bowl; dish), from the Proto-West Germanic disk (table; dish), from the Latin discus, from the Ancient Greek δίσκος (dískos) (quoit, disc, discus, dish, trencher, round mirror, reliquary, marigold).  For centuries the orthodox etymology of dískos was that it was from δίκ-σκος (dík-skos), from δικεῖν (dikeîn) (to cast) but more recent scholarship have cast doubts on this on the grounds the suffix -σκο- was rare in nominal derivation.  The alternative suggestion was δισκ- (disk-) was a variant of δικεῖν (dikeîn) (of pre-Greek origin) rather than a direct formation.  Dogdish is a noun; the noun plural is dogdishes.

The dogdish hubcap

Dogdishes (also as dog dish or dog-dish and there’s even a faction which calls them “pie pans” although the most evocative collective is “poverty caps”) are a basic, unadorned style of hubcap used with steel wheels (“steelies” to the tappet-heads).  Although some steel wheels could be stylish (notably those offered by the US manufacturers in the 1960s & 1970s and those Jaguar fitted to some E-Types (XKE) and XJs, in passenger vehicles, lighter aluminium wheels have in recent decades become the standard fitting for all but the cheapest models in a range.  However, the steel wheel possesses a number of virtues as well as being cheaper than aluminium units, notably their resistance to impact injuries and ease of repair, the latter the reason they’re still the choice for many police & commercial vehicles.  The steel wheel is inherently heavier so not the ideal choice for high performance use but their characteristics are attractive for off-road users who appreciate being able to effect repairs in remote places with little more equipment than a hammer.

1929 Mercedes-Benz 460 Nürburg (W08, 1928-1933); a Nürburg was the first "Popemobile" (supplied by the factory to Pius XI (1857–1939; pope 1922-1939) and the official car of Eugenio Pacelli (1876-1958, the future Pope Pius XII (1939-1958)) while Apostolic Nuncio to Germany (1920–1930).  The wheels were fashioned in timber and the hubcaps were of stainless steel.  Wooden wheels were by 1929 already archaic although some were still being produced as late as 1939.  Typically, hickory was favored because of its strength, flexibility and shock resistance which made it able to cope with the stresses imposed by the often rough roads of the era.

1957 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham.  During the 1930s, for various reasons (dirt protection, aerodynamics and, increasingly, aesthetics), hubcaps grew to become "wheel covers" and in the hands of US stylists in the 1950s they became an integral component of the whole design, used for product differentiation and the establishment of a model's place in the hierarchy.  Compared with the excesses which would be seen in the 1960s & 1970s, those on the 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham were almost restrained.      

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.

1969 COPO Chevrolet Camaro ZL1.  Only 69 units in this configuration were built for not only was the all-aluminium ZL1 a highly-strung engine not suited to street use, it added US$4160.15 to a V8 Camaro's base price of US$2727.00 restricting demand to those who really did want to run on drag strips.  The basic interior fittings and dogdish hubcaps saved buyers a few dollars. 

But the dogdishes persisted because police forces and other fleet operators ordered cars with them in large volumes and many thrifty private buyers opted for them too.  As the cult they are today however, the origin lies in their appearance on muscle cars during the 1960s.  Sometimes their inclusion was as a cost-cutting measure such as the 1968 Plymouth Road Runner although in 1969, when the model was made available with a triple carburetor version of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8, even the dogdishes weren't included in the package and the cars shipped to dealer with the five chromed lug nuts exposed, the companion Dodge Super Bee also so de-contented.  Those purchasing something for competition (such as the Chevrolet Camaros fitted with 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) engines via General Motors’ (GM) COPO (Central Office Production Order) scheme used usually for volume runs of things like vans for utility companies or police interceptors with the high-performance but not the "dress-up" options) also usually would opt for the steelie/dogdish combo.  The apparent anomaly of the high-performance Camaros running the dogdishes (already referred to as “poverty caps”) was that the buyer would anyway be fitting their own wheel/tyre combination so the vehicle was supplied ex-factory with the cheapest option.  The photographic record suggests that in truth, when new, relatively few muscle cars prowled the street with dogdishes still attached, something more stylish usually fitted at some point during ownership but they’ve become so emblematic of the era that reproductions are now available for those undertaking restorations or creating their own clone (tribute/faux/fake/replica etc); authenticity can be emulated.

1973 Maserati Bora 4.9 with the early (1971-1975) aluminium wheels fitted with "frisbee" (not dogdish) hubcaps (left), 1977 Maserati Bora 4.9 with the later (1975-1978) aluminium wheels without hubcaps (centre) and 1974 Maserati Merak 3.0 (right).

So in the US, the dogdish tended to appear on (1) the cheapest cars in a range, (2) those purchased (sometimes in the thousands) by fleet operators interested only in cost-breakdown or (3) those buying a car for racing, the wheels of which were going to be discarded immediately upon delivery.  In Europe however, things were done differently and one of history’s plainest hubcaps appeared on a top-of-the-range model: Between 1971-1975, the mid-engined Maserati Bora (Tipo AM117; 1971-1978) was equipped with removable, polished stainless steel hubcaps (which the Maserati cognoscenti call frisbees) on its 7½ x 15 inch (190.5 x 381 mm) Campagnolo aluminium wheels.  Although structurally different, the less expensive Merak (Tipo AM122; 1972-1983) used a similar body but was equipped with 2.0 & 3.0 V6 engines rather than the Bora’s 4.7 & 4.9 litre V8s, the smaller engines meaning the Merak was able to be fitted with two rear seats (most suitable for small children or contortionists).  The Merak used wheels in the same style without the frisbees and after 1975 this configuration extended to the Bora.  Rarely has there been a hubcap plainer than the those used on the Bora but anyone calling it a “poverty cap” would be shocked by the price they command as used parts; on the rare occasions they’re available, they've been listed at US$700-2000 apiece.  Unlike the Merak which was named after a star in the constellation of Ursa Major, the Bora borrowed its name from a wind which blows along the Adriatic coast, the company over the years having used the names of a number of (usually hot) winds from North Africa and the Middle East including Ghibli, Khamsin, Shamal and Karif.

Dogdish owner: Lindsay Lohan leaving a Lincoln Town Car with Chloe the Maltese (which lived to the reasonable age of 15), May 2008, New York City.  He first dog, also a Maltese, she called Gucci, the name explained by the puppy arriving simultaneously with her “first pair of Gucci boots”.  The dog promptly chewed up the boots.

Usually, in the collector market, what commands the highest price is a vehicle which left the factory fitted with the most options, the “fully-optioned” machine the most desirable (although the odd extra-cost item like an automatic transmission or a vinyl roof can detract), the dogdishes don’t deter buyers, most of who would probably admit the various styled steel wheels of the era were better looking.  In August 2024, the most highly optioned 1969 Dodge Daytona in the most desirable mechanical configuration (the 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Street Hemi V8 & four-speed manual transmission combination) achieved US$3.36 million at Mecum’s auction at Monterey, California.  The price was impressive but what attracted the interest of the amateur sociologists was the same Daytona in May 2022 sold for US$1.3 million when offered by Mecum at their auction held at the Indiana State Fairgrounds.  The US$1.3 million was at the time the highest price then paid for a Hemi Daytona (of the 503 Daytonas built, only 70 were fitted with the Hemi and of those, only 22 had the four-speed manual) and the increase in value by some 250% was obviously the result of something other than the inflation rate.

The US$3.36 million 1969 Dodge Daytona.  When new, the Daytona (and the more numerous companion "winged warrior" Plymouth Superbird) was sometimes difficult for dealers to sell, the wild body modifications not appealing to all.  Consequently, so resorted to returning them to the same visual appearance as standard Dodge Chargers.  Now, the process is reversed and a number of Chargers have been transformed into "clone" Daytonas.   

The consensus was that although the internet had made just about all markets inherently global, local factors can still influence both the buyer profile and their behaviour, especially in the hothouse environment of a live auction.  Those who frequent California’s central coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco include a demographic not typically found in the mid-west and among other distinguishing characteristics there are more rich folk, able to spend US$3.36 million on a half-century old car they’ll probably never drive.  That’s how the collector market now works.

1971 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda: US$410,000 in 1999; US$3.36 million in 2014, the appreciation due to (1) the supply & demand curve and (2) the largess of the US Federal Reserve.  For those wanting "the look", reproduction stainless steel dogdishes are available for US$258.00 (set of four). 

Despite the result, the green Daytona’s result wasn’t even the highest price a Chrysler product had achieved at auction, that mark set in Seattle in 2014 when one of the five four-speed manual 1971 Plymouth Hemi ‘Cuda convertibles (there were another seven automatics) sold US$3.78 million.  While the outcome of such a rarity was not indicative of broader market trends (although there have been stellar performances for classic Mercedes-Benz and pre-1973 Ferraris), it did illustrate the effect of the increase in the global money supply in the wake of the GFC (Global Financial Crisis, 2008-2012) when central banks essentially not only “replaced” much of money the rich had lost gambling but gave them a healthy bonus as well.  The Hemi ‘Cuda in December 1999 had (albeit in its original, un-restored state sold at auction for US$410,000 so the successful US$3.36 million bid 14 years on was an increase of more than 800%, the sort of RoI (return on investment) which would once have impressed even Richard "Dick" Fuld (b 1946), chairman & CEO of Lehman Brothers (1850-2008).  Time however will tell if the money spent in 2014 was a good investment because when another four-speed 1971 Hemi ‘Cuda convertible was offered for auction in 2021, despite predictions it would go for as much as US$6.5 million, it was passed-in at US$4.8 million without reaching the reserve.  The car was fitted with Chrysler’s “Rallye” wheels rather than the steelie/dogdish combo but this was not thought to be of any significance.

Mecum Auctions catalogue image of 1971 four-speed Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda convertible with 15" Rallye wheels.  Passed in on a high-bid of US$4.8 million, it'll be interesting to see if, when next offered, steelies & dogdishes are fitted.

Comet

Comet (pronounced kom-it)

(1) In astronomy, a celestial body moving about the sun, usually in a highly eccentric orbit, most thought to consist of a solid frozen nucleus, part of which vaporizes on approaching the heat from Sun (or other star) to form a gaseous, luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas, the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).

(2) In astronomy, a celestial phenomenon with the appearance of such a body.

(3) Any of several species of hummingbird found in the Andes.

(4) In slang, as “vomit comet”, a reduced-gravity aircraft which, by flying in a parabolic flight path, briefly emulates a close to weightless environment.  Used to train astronauts or conduct research, the slang derived from the nausea some experience.

(5) In figurative use (often applied retrospectively and with a modifier such as “blazing comet”), someone (or, less commonly, something) who appears suddenly in the public eye, makes a significant impact and then quickly fades from view, their fleeting moment of brilliance a brief but spectacular event.

1150–1200: From the Middle English comete, partly from the Old English comēta and partly from the Anglo-French & Old French comete (which in Modern French persists as comète), all from the Latin comētēs & comēta, from the Ancient Greek κομήτης (komḗtēs) (wearing long hair; ling-haired), the construct being komē-, a variant stem of komân (to let one's hair grow), from κόμη (kómē) (hair) + -tēs (the agent suffix).  The Greek was a shortened form of ἀστὴρ κομήτης (astēr komētēs (longhaired star)), a reference to a comet’s streaming tail.  The descendants in other languages include the Malay komet, the Urdu کومٹ (komeṭ) and the Welsh comed.  Comet, cometlessness, cometography, cometographer, cometology & cometarium are nouns, cometless, cometic, cometical, cometocentric, cometary, cometographical & cometlike (also as comet-like) are adjectives, cometesimal is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is comets.

Comets orbit the Sun along an elongated path and when not near the heat, the body consists solely of its nucleus, thought to be almost always a solid core of frozen water, frozen gases, and dust.  When near the sun, the nucleus heats, eventually to boil and thus release the gaseous and luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas), the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).  The path of a comet can be in the shape of an ellipse or a hyperbola; if a hyperbolic path, it enters the solar system once and then leaves forever while if it follows an ellipse, it remains in orbit around the sun.  Astronomer divide comets into (1) “short period” (those with orbital periods of less than 200 years and coming from the Kuiper belt) and (2) “long-period” (those with an orbital period greater than 200 years and coming from the Oort cloud).

Before the development of modern techniques, comets were visible only when near the sun so their appearance was sudden and, until early astronomers were able to calculate the paths of those which re-appeared, unexpected.  Superstition stepped in where science didn’t exist and comets were in many cultures regarded as omens or harbingers of doom, famine, ruin, pestilence and the overthrow of kingdoms or empires.  It was the English astronomer, mathematician and physicist Edmond Halley (1656–1742; Astronomer Royal 1720-1742) who in 1682 published the calculations which proved many comets were periodic and thus their appearance could be predicted.  Halley's Comet, named in his honor, remains the only known short-period comet consistently visible from Earth with the naked eye and remains the world’s most famous; it last appeared in 1986 and will next visit our skies in 2061.

Comet wine: Non-vintage Alois Lageder Natsch4 Vigneti Delle Dolomiti.

Halley’s findings put an end to (most) of the superstition surrounding comets but commerce still took advantage of their presence.  A comet with a famously vivid tail appeared in 1811 and in that year, Europe enjoyed a remarkably pleasant autumn (fall) which was most conducive to agriculture and became associated with the abundant and superior yield of the continental vineyards.  For that reason, the vintage was called the “comet wine” and the term became a feature in marketing the product which emerged from any year in which notable comets were seen, a superior quality alleged (and thus a premium price).  Wine buffs say any relationship between the quality of a vintage and the travel of celestial bodies is entirely coincidental.

Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath (2021) by Dr Heather Clark (b 1974).

One of things about the feminist cult which is now the construct of Sylvia Path (1932-1963) is that her mistreatment at the hands of her husband Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-2008) tends to obscure her work which many quite familiar with the story of her brief life will barely have read and that’s perhaps predictable, certainly for those for whom the lure of tales of tragic woman and brutish men is a siren.  As human tragedies go, her story is compelling: A precocious talent, the death of the father to whom she was devoted when only eight, the suicide attempt while a student and the burning ambition to write and be published.  Almost as soon as she met Ted Hughes she knew he was “my black marauder” and their affair was one of intense physicality as well as a devotion to their art, something which might have endured during their marriage (which produced two children) had Hughes not proved so unfaithful and neglectful.  In 1963, as an abandoned solo mother in a freezing flat during what entered history as London’s coldest winter of the century, she took her own life while her two babies slept nearby, becoming a symbol onto which people would map whatever most suited their purposes: the troubled genius, the visionary writer, a feminist pioneer and, overwhelmingly, a martyr, a victim of a man.  To his dying day, feminists would stalk literary events just to tell Hughes he had “Sylvia’s blood on his hands”.

So the story is well known and in the years since her death there have been a number of biographies, critical studies, collections of letters, academic conferences; given that, it’s seemed by the 2020s unlikely there was much more to say about one whose adult life spanned not even two decades.  For that reason the 1000-odd densely printed pages of Dr Heather Clark’s Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath was a revelation because, as the author pointed out, her life “has been subsumed by her afterlife” and what was needed was a volume which focused on what she wrote and why that output means she should be set free from the “cultural baggage of the past 50 years” and shown as “one of the most important American writers of the twentieth century.”

Sylvia Plath in Paris, 1956.

Red Comet is thus far this century’s outstanding biography and a feminist perspective is not required to recognize that when reading her last poems (written in obvious rage but sustaining a controlled tension few have matched) that she was a profoundly disturbed woman.  Most clinicians who have commented seem now to agree her depression of long-standing had descended to something psychotic by the time of her suicide, a progression she seems to have acknowledged, writing to one correspondent that she was composing poetry “on the edge of madness”.  This is though a biography written by a professional literary critic so it does not construct Plath as tale of tragedy and victimhood as one might if telling the story of some troubled celebrity.  Instead, the life is allowed to unfold in a way which shows how it underpins her development as a writer, the events and other glimpses of the person interpolated into the progress of a text through drafts and revisions, each word polished as the poet progresses to what gets sent to the publisher.  Red Comet is not a book for those interested in how much blame Ted Hughes should bear for his wife killing herself and in that matter it’s unlikely to change many opinions but as a study of the art of Sylvia Plath, it’s outstanding.  Unlike many figurative uses of "comet", Plath continues to blaze her trail. 

Pre-production de Havilland Comet (DH 106) with the original, square windows, England, 1949 (left) and Comet 4 (Registration G-APDN) in BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation (1939-1974 which in 1974 was merged with BEA (British European Airways) and others to later become BA (British Airways)) livery, Tokyo (Haneda International (HND / RJTT)), Japan October 1960.

The term hoodoo is often attached to objects thought jinxed.  When the de Havilland Comet (DH 106; the first commercial jet airliner), within a year of its first flight in 1949, began to suffer a number of catastrophic in-flight accidents, newspapers wrote of the “Comet hoodoo”, something encouraged because, in the pre “black-box” era, analysis of aviation incidents was a less exact science than now and for some time the crashes appeared inexplicable.  It was only when extensive testing revealed the reason for the structural failures could be traced to stresses in the airframe induced aspects of the design that the hoodoo was understood to be the operation of physics.  Other manufacturers noted the findings and changed their designs, Boeing's engineers acknowledging the debt they owed to de Havilland because it was the investigation of the Comet's early problems which produced the solutions which helped the Boeing 707 (1957) and its many successors to be the successful workhorses they became.  As a footnote, by the time the Comet 4 was released in 1958 the problems had been solved but commercially, the project was doomed and reputational damage done.  Between 1949-1964, barely more than 100 were sold although many did provide reliable service until 1981 and the airframe proved adaptable, dozens of military variants produced, the most notable being the Hawker Siddeley Nimrod, a maritime patrol version which was in service with the Royal Air Force (RAF) until 2011.

It’s because of the lessons learned from the Comet hoodoo that the apertures of airliner windows have rounded edges, the traditional four-cornered openings creating four weak spots prone to failure under stress.  In the early 1950s there was much optimism about the Comet and had it been successful, it could have given the UK’s commercial aviation industry a lead in a sector which rapidly would expand in the post war years.  One who didn’t express much faith in his country’s capacity to succeed in the field was the politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) who, shortly before taking up his appointment as the UK’s ambassador to France, was flying on an Avro York (a transport and civil adaptation of the Lancaster heavy bomber) and he noted in his diary: “I think the designer of the York has discovered the shape of an armchair in which it is quite impossible to be comfortable, if this is typical of the civil transport plane in which were are to compete against the US, we are already beaten.”  As Lindsay Lohan’s smiles indicate, as least on private jets, the seats are now comfortable.

Not quite an Edsel, not yet a Mercury: The 1960 Comet; it was an era of imaginative (other use different adjectives) styling (and at this time they were still "stylists" and not "designers").

The Mercury Comet, built in four generations between 1960-1969 and another between 1971-1977, had a most unusual beginning.  The Ford Motor Company (“FoMoCo”, Mercury’s parent corporation) had in the mid 1950s studied the five-tier (Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, Cadillac) branding used by General Motors (GM) and decided it too would create a five divisional structure (which by 1955 Chrysler had also matched).  The GM model dated from the 1920s and was called the “ladder” (GM at times had as many as nine rungs) and the idea was each step on the later would take a buyer into a higher price (and at least theoretically more profitable) range of models.  There was a time when this approach made sense but even in the 1950s when Ford embarked on their restructure it was beginning to fragment, the implications of which would become apparent over the decades.  Thus Ford ended up (briefly) with five divisions: Ford, Mercury, Edsel, Lincoln and Continental.  That didn’t last long and Continental was the first to go, followed soon by the still infamous Edsel and the corporation even flirted with the idea of shuttering Lincoln.

1963 Mercury Comet S-22 Convertible.

The original plan had been for the Comet to be the “small Edsel” but by the time the release date drew close, the decision had been taken to terminate the Edsel brand so the Q&D (quick & dirty) solution was to sell the car through the Lincoln-Mercury dealer network, an expedient which lasted for the 1960 & 1961 model years before the Comet was integrated into the Mercury range and badged appropriately.  The early Comets were built on the Falcon platform (“compact” in contemporary US terms) but when the 1966 range was released, the cars became “intermediates” (ie the size between the “compact” and “full-size” platforms).  The Comet name was withdrawn from use after 1969 but was in 1971 revived for Mercury’s companion to the Maverick, Ford’s replacement for the compact Falcon which slotted above the Pinto which was smaller, requiring the industry to coin the class-designation “sub compact”.  Cheap to produce and essentially a “consumer disposable”, the Maverick and Comet proved so popular they continued in production for a season even after their nominal replacements were in showrooms.

1967 Mercury Comet Cyclone "R Code", one of 60 built that year with the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) FE side-oiler V8 and one of the 19 with a four-speed manual transmission.

The Mercury Comet has never attracted great interest from collectors because few were built with the more robust or exotic drive-trains found more frequently in both the competition from GM & Chrysler and the companion versions from Ford.  The mid-range performance package for the general market was the Comet Cyclone, introduced in 1964 to replace the Comet’s earlier S-22 option; neither were big sellers but they were not expensive to produce and remained profitable parts of the Mercury range.  In 1968, during the peak of the muscle car era, Mercury sought to promote the line, dropping the Comet name and promoting the machines as the “Cyclone”, now with quite potent engines although the emphasis clearly was drag racing rather than turning corners; the high performance package was now called the “Cyclone Spoiler”.  For the NASCAR circuits however, there was in 1969 the Cyclone Spoiler II, one of the so-called “aero cars”, the better known of which were the much more spectacular, be-winged Dodge Daytona (1969) and Plymouth Superbird (1970).  Chrysler’s cars looked radical to achieve what they did but the modifications which created the Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II and Ford Torino Talladega were so subtle as to be barely noticeable, the most effective being the increased slope on the lengthened nose, the flush grill and some changes which had the effect of lowering both the centre of gravity and the body.  The Ford and Mercury might have been a less spectacular sight than the Dodge or Plymouth but on the tracks the seeming slight tweaks did the job and both were among the fastest and most successful of their brief era.

1969 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (slab-sided but slippery, left), 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler (sleek but less aerodynamic than its predecessor, centre) and the aborted 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (handicapped out of contention by NASCAR, right).   

In 1970, just how aerodynamic was the 1969 Cyclone Spoiler was proved when the racing teams tried the new model which, although it looked sleek, was not as aerodynamically efficient and noticeably slower.  That might seem something of an own goal but Ford were blindsided by NASCAR’s decision to render the low-volume “aero cars” uncompetitive by restricting them to the use of 305 cubic inch (5.0 litre) engines while the conventional bodies were permitted to use the full 430 (7.0).  Thus the aerodynamic modifications planned for the 1970 Torino and Cyclone never entered production.  Of the two prototype Cyclone Spoiler IIs built, one survives revealing a nose which was in its own way as radical as those earlier seen on the Plymouth and Dodge.  In the collector market, the aero cars are much sought but the Cyclones are the least valued which may seem strange because they were on the circuits among the most successful of the era.  Market analysts attribute this to (1) the Cyclone Spoiler II (and Torino Talladega) being visually much less eye-catching than the wild-looking pair from Chrysler and (2) the Cyclone Spoiler II being sold only with a modest 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) engine whereas the Fords ran 428s (7.0) and the Chryslers 440 (7.2) & 426 (6.9) units, the latter a version of the engine actually used in the race cars.

The highly qualified Kate Upton (b 1992) was in 2014 featured in a Sports Illustrated session filmed in a "vomit comet" (a modified Boeing 727 with a padded interior).