Leap

Leap (pronounced leep)

(1) To spring through the air from one point or position to another; to jump.

(2) Quickly or suddenly to move or act.

(3) To cause to leap.

(4) A spring, jump, or bound; a light, springing movement.

(5) The distance covered in a leap; distance jumped.

(6) A place leaped or to be leaped over or from.

(7) A sudden or abrupt transition.

(8) A sudden and decisive increase.

(8) In folk mythology, to copulate with or coverture of (a female beast) (archaic).

(9) In slang, to copulate with (a human) (archaic).

(10) A group of leopards.

(11) In figurative use, a significant move forward.

(12) In figurative use, a large step in reasoning (often one that is not justified by the facts, hence the sceptical phrase “a bit of a leap” & “quite a leap”).

(13) In mining (also used in geology), a fault.

(14) In aquatic management, a salmon ladder; a trap or snare for fish, historically constructed with fallen from twigs; a “weely”.

(15) In music, a passing from one note to another by an interval, especially by a long one, or by one including several other intermediate intervals.

(16) An intercalary measure, best-known as “leap year”, “leap second” et al.

(17) In pre-modern measures of weight, half a bushel.

Pre 900: From the Middle English lepen, from the Old English hlēapan, from the Proto-West Germanic hlaupan, from the Proto-Germanic hlaupaną (a doublet of lope, lowp, elope, gallop, galop, interlope and loop).  It was cognate with the German laufen (to run; to walk), the Old Norse hlaupa the Gothic hlaupan, the West Frisian ljeppe (to jump), the Dutch lopen (to run; to walk), the Danish løbe and the Norwegian Bokmål løpe, from the primitive Indo-European klewb- (to spring; stumble) (and may be compared with the Lithuanian šlùbti (to become lame) & klùbti (to stumble).  The verb forms are tangled things.  The third-person singular simple present tense is leaps, the present participle leaping, the simple past leaped or leapt (lept & lope the archaic forms) and the past participle is leaped or leapt or (lept & lopen the archaic forms).  That leapt and leaped remain in concurrent use is another of those annoy things in English which are hangovers from their ancient entrenchments in regional use and, as a general principle leapt tends to be is preferred educated British English while leaped is seen more frequently in North America (although leapt is in those places not uncommon, especially in areas with historical ties to England).  The transitive sense as in “pass over by leaping” was in use by the early fifteenth century and there are references to the children’s game “leap-frog” documented in the 1590s, and so obvious was the use of that figuratively it probably quickly was adopted but the first attested entry dates from 1704.  The familiar “to leap tall buildings in a single bound” comes from the Superman comics of the 1940s although in idiomatic use, “leaps” has been paired with “bounds” since at least since 1720.  Leap is a noun, verb & adjective, leaper & leapling are nouns and leaping and leapt & leaped are verbs; the noun plural is leaps.

The leap year is “a year containing 366 days” and use dates from late fourteenth century Middle English lepe gere, a genuine innovation because no equivalent term existed in the Old English. The origin is thought to come from the effect of fixed festival days, which normally advance one weekday per year, to “leap” ahead one day in the week.  The Medieval Latin was saltus lunae (omission of one day in the lunar calendar every 19 years), the Old English form being monan hlyp.  The adjustments happened in the calendars of many cultures, always with the purpose of ensuring the man-made devices for tracking dates (and therefore time) remained consistent with the sun; summer needed always to feel like summer and winter like winter.  Different methods of handling the intercalary were adopted and in England the bissextile was the device.  The noun & adjective bissextile (plural bissextiles) dates from the early 1580s and was from the Latin bisextilis annus (bissextile year), the construct being bisextus + -ilis, deconstructed as bis- (two; twice; doubled) + sextus (sixth) + dies (day) and was a reference to the Julian calendar's original reckoning of its quadrennial intercalary day as a 48-hour 24 February (subsequently distinguished as the two separate days of the sixth day before the March calends (sexto Kalendas Martii) and the “doubled sixth day”.  In modern use, 24 February is now understood as “five days before 1 March” but in Roman use it was called “the sixth” because the counting of dates was then inclusive.

The most physically demanding (and dangerous) part of Lindsay Lohan’s impressive leap into a Triumph TR4 in Irish Wish was undertaken by a body double (the young lady in this case deserving the “stunt-double” title).

Ready to leap: Lindsay Lohan with stunt double Aoife Bailey (b 1999).

Lindsay Lohan's Netflix movie Irish Wish (2024) was said by Irish reviewers to be "a mix of Leap Year meets Just My Luck meets Freaky Friday in which Lohan stars as quiet book editor Maddie Kelly, who embarks on a journey to find love by learning to love herself first."  Like Irish Wish, Leap Year (2010) was filmed in Ireland but unlike 2010, 2024 was a leap year.  IMCDB’s (Internet Movie Cars Database) comprehensive site confirmed the Triumph TR4 was registered in Ireland (ZV5660, VIN:STC65CT17130C) as running the 2.1 litre version (17130C) of the engine.  The Triumph 2.1 is sometimes listed as a 2.2 because, despite an actual displacement of 2138 cm³; in some places the math orthodoxy is ignored and a "round up" rule applied, something done usually in jurisdictions which use displacement-based taxation or registration regimes, the "rounding up" sometimes having the effect of "pushing" a vehicle into a category which attracts a higher rate.  Those buying a TR4 for use in competitions with a 2.0 litre limit could specify the smaller unit from the factory but being based on a tractor engine (!) and thus fitted with wet-cylinder liners, “sleeving” a 2.1 back to 2.0 wasn’t difficult.  The lack of the "IRS" (independent rear suspension) badge on the trunk (boot) lid indicates the use of the live rear axle and that detail was of no significance in the plot although, given the leap scene, a convertible of some sort would have been required.  Although on the road the IRS delivered a smoother ride, those using TR4s in competition usually preferred the live rear-axle because it made the car easier to steer “with the throttle”.

The replacement of the bissextile by the then novel 29 February every four years-odd appears such an obviously good idea it seems strange it took centuries universally to be adopted in England although the documents reveal the shift was certainly well in progress by the mid-fifteenth century and in an echo of later practices, the more curmudgeonly the institution, the slower the intrusion of the new ways, the Admiralty and houses of parliament ignoring 29 February until well into the 1500s.  It wasn’t until the Calendar (New Style) Act (1750) passed into law that 29 February received formal recognition in UK law.  The reform worked well from the start but in some jurisdictions, government lawyers took no chances and for the handful of souls born on a 29 February, their birth dates were deemed to be 28 February or 1 March for all legal purposes (eligibility for drivers licenses or pensions, age of consent etc).  One born on 29 February is a “leapling” and there are said to be a few as five million of these lonely souls on the whole planet.  In many countries hospitals and midwives note the frequency with which expectant mothers approaching March request staff do whatever is required to avoid them giving birth to a leapling, fearing the child will feel deprived by having fewer birthdays than their siblings of friends.  The math of the leap year is it is one (1) evenly divisible by 4, (2) except for years are evenly divisible by 100 except that (3) years evenly divisible by 400 are leap years.  So, 2000 was while 1900 was not; 2100 will not be a leap year, but 2400 will be.  However, because the rotation of the Earth is changing (and thus the length of days), as is its distance from the Sun, even a 29 February now and then is not enough to keep everything in sync.  So, there are also leap seconds, spliced in as needed and unlike 29 February, only those dealing with atomic clocks and such notice addition.

Leap is common in idiomatic use:  To do something in “leaps and bounds” suggests commendably quick progress.  A “leap in the dark” is to take some action while being uncertain of consequences and the related “leap of faith” is trusting in something that cannot be seen or proven so in a sense they’re two ways of saying much the same thing although “leap of faith” does also imply some trust in something or someone.  To have one’s heart “leap into one’s throat” is an allusion to the sensation felt sometimes in the throat when something scary happens.  To “leap for joy” is much the same as “jump for joy” and describes joyous happiness.  To “leap at” something is enthusiastically to take up an offer, avail one’s self of an opportunity etc.  When doing so, one might be said to “leap into action”.  To be cautioned to “look before you leap” is to suggest one should be sure of things before doing something; if one ignores the advice then it’s a “leap of faith” or a “leap into the dark”.  To “leapfrog” is to skip a step in some process, the connotation almost always positive.  To suggest someone “take a flying leap” is much the same as telling them to “go jump in the lake” or, as is now more common: “fuck off”.  The concept of the "quantum leap" was in 1913 introduced (as the "quantum jump") by Danish physicist Niels Bohr (1885–1962) in his "Bohr model" of the atom.  In the strange world of quantum mechanics it describes the discontinuous change of the state of an electron in an atom or molecule from one energy level to another and was adopted figuratively to refer to an "abrupt, extreme change".  In modern use, it has come to mean a large or transformative change, a use to which pedants sometimes object but this is how the English language works.  The “leap year bug” is jargon rather than a idiom and describes the growing number of instances of problems caused by computers (and related machines) for whatever reason not correctly handling the existence of leap years.  Most are caused by human error and some are not being rectified because the original error has been built upon to such an extent that it’s easier to handle the bugs as they occur.  If something is said to be “a bit of a leap” or “quite a leap” it means there's some scepticism about the relationship one thing and another (often cause & effect). 

Jaguar's Leaper

Left to right (top row): Buick, Packard & Pierce-Arrow; (centre row): Rolls-Royce, Bentley & Mercury; (bottom row): Duesenberg, Mercedes-Benz & Nash.

The radiator cap of course began as a mere functional device which could be unscrewed to allow coolant to be added but, inevitably, possibilities occurred to stylists (they weren’t yet “designers”) and soon the things were a small platform for miniature (though many were anything but small) works of art to covey an image to suit at least what was imagined to be the character of the vehicle on which they sat.  Although such embellishments are now remembered for their decorative qualities (and many in the art deco era during the inter-war were lovely creations), some genuinely were functional and “topping-up” the coolant was for decades a frequent part of the motoring experience so, however attractive they may have been, their use as a handle means they may be thought architectonic as well as artistic. The Jaguar Leaper had fangs and while that sounds ominous for pedestrians, some of the radiator cap & hood emblems looked more lethal still and even before the “safety movement” of the 1960s, there had been discussions about the dangers they posed.  For the safety of pedestrians, the few survivors now are spring-loaded or retract when the vehicle is in motion.

Leaper on 1960 Jaguar Mark 2 3.8.  Owners found the fitting handy when opening the hood.

“Leaper” really was the factory’s name for the lunging feline figure which for decades adorned the space atop or behind the grill on many Jaguars.  The story of the origin is murky and while there may be some myth-making in it, the most likely explanation seems to be that when late in 1934 newly appointed Ernest William "Bill" Rankin (1898-1966, Advertising Manager and Public Relations Officer, Jaguar Cars 1934-1966) settled (from a list of charismatic wild animals) on “Jaguar” as a name for a new “sporty” SS (then the company name) car and, part of the “brand identity” was to design an appropriate radiator cap ornament.  Rankin was acquainted with the draftsman & technical illustrator Gordon Crosby (1885–1943) who he knew to be an amateur sculptor and it was to him the commission was granted.  Crosby delivered a prototype cast in bronze and according to company mythology, Jaguar’s founder, Sir William Lyons (1901–1985) thought it looked like “a cat shot off a fence” but liked the concept so, lengthened and softened into something sleeker, the refined shape emerged as the “Leaper”, first fitted in 1938.  The tales do differ, some suggesting Sir William’s “cat shot off a fence” thoughts were prompted by the sight of an earlier, third–party ornament which inspired him to task Mr Rankin with finding a replacement and, in the absence of documentary proof, Jaguar fans can pick the story they prefer.

Leaper on 1950 Jaguar Mark V 3.5.  The Mark V (1948-1951) was the last Jaguar with the external radiator cap.

The SS name came from the Swallow Sidecar Company which Lyons had in 1922 co-founded with William Walmsley (1892–1961), reorganized as “S.S. Cars” after 1934 when Walmsley withdrew and the adoption in 1935 of “Jaguar” as a model name was mere marketing and nothing to do with the by then unsavoury reputation of the German SS (Schutzstaffel (protection squad), which began in 1923 as a small security guard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) but which evolved into a kind of parallel army for the Nazi Party and later into an armed formation almost a million-strong).  Even by 1945 when motor vehicle production resumed and the corporate name S.S. Cars formerly was changed to “Jaguar Cars Limited”, the rationale was the stronger brand identity of the latter rather than an aversion to anything associative with the Nazis.  Indeed, in 1957 Jaguar returned to SS as designation with the release of the XKSS, a road-going version of the Le Mans-winning D-Type race car.

An early Leaper (left) and the later "in flight" version (right) with the fully extended hind legs.

First fitted to production SS Jaguars in 1938, it became standard equipment on all until 1951 when the Mark V was discontinued.  As the last Jaguar to feature an external radiator cap, the assumption was that was the end of the Leaper and the strikingly modernist XK120 which created a sensation at the 1948 London Motor Show had only a radiator grill; the spirit of the age was that the ornaments were antiquated relics.  However, elsewhere in the industry, modernity and nostalgia managed peacefully to co-exist and while there was no revival of external radiator caps, the ornaments refused to die and from expensive Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce to the most humble Austins and Chevrolets, the chromed constructions continued and sometimes grew, those not able to sit atop grills (many now with no “top” as such) re-imagined as hood (bonnet) ornaments.  So, in 1955 the Jaguar Leaper made a comeback on the new small saloon (the 2.4), the mascot using the subtle post-war re-working of the hind legs, made more outstretched to suggest the big cat in “mid-leap”, about to take its prey.  On the saloons, the design lasted 14 years and it was fitted even to the XK150 for while the XK120 in 1948 had seemed streamlined modernity exemplified, the world had moved on and by 1957, although much improved and still stylish, the lines now seemed baroque rather than minimalist; the Leaper fitting in well.  For the big Mark X saloon in 1961, paradoxically, a smaller leaper was cast and this remained in use until the car (by then called 420G) was retired in 1970 so it was thus the last of the early Leapers, the XJ unadorned upon its debut in 1968 with the last of the legacy saloons produced in 1969.  The aftermarket though remained buoyant with many XJs and XJSs fitted with Leapers by owners who liked the look or dealers who thought they would.  It does seem they were fitted at the plant to almost all the New Zealand-assembled XJs and the factory may have been in two minds about it: the hoods of all XJs (1968-1992) included in the underside marks indicating where the holes should be drilled.  Not until the X300 XJ in 1994 would they again be factory-fitted to some models (in “pedestrian friendly” spring-loaded form) and this continued until 2005.

Leaper on a US market 1999 Jaguar Vanden Plas (X308).

The US market Vanden Plas models were the only Jaguars on which the leaper was used in conjunction with the fluted grill fitted to the home market (and some RoW (rest of the world)) Daimlers.  Because it was Mercedes-Benz and not Jaguar which after 1966 held the US rights to the Daimler brand, Daimlers since then sold in the US were badged as Jaguar Vanden Plas although they were otherwise identical to Daimlers including the fluted fittings.  The supercharged Daimler Vanden Plas was the most exclusive of the X308s and was noted for details such as the rear picnic tables being crafted from solid burl walnut timber rather than the veneer over plastic used on cheaper models.

1970 S2 Jaguar E-Type (top) from the "R2" run of 1000-odd (almost all of which were registered as 1971 models although some left the factory in 1970) with the leaper badges on the flanks and leaper badges, left-side (p/n BD35865, bottom left) and right side (p/n BD35866, bottom right).

The Series 2 E-Type (1968-1971) was marred by the clutter of bigger bumpers, protuberant headlight assemblies, badges and side-marker lights and so much did they detract from lovely, sleek lines of the Series 1 cars (1961-1967), bolting a luggage rack to the boot (trunk) lid probably seemed no longer the disfigurement it would once have been.  The disfigurement had begun with the transitional E-Types (the so-called 1.25 & 1.5 cars built in 1967).  The left-hand (left) and right-hand (right) fender badges, being directional, were different part numbers (BD35865 & BD35866 respectively) and those used on E-Types were silver on black whereas the variants used on the XJs were gold on black, some of which depicted the leaping feline at a slight slope, both matters of note for those wishing to restore cars to the challenging “factory original” standard.

1976 Jaguar XJC 4.2.

This XJC is one of many in the wild which, at some point, was fitted with a leaper but it’s a shame whoever made the addition didn't at the same time remove the unfortunate vinyl roof.  Like the headlight covers sometimes added to the later (S1.25 & 1.5) S1 E-Types, removing an XJC's vinyl roof is one of the rare exceptions the originality police tolerate and even encourage.

Still under the control of the doomed British Leyland, Jaguar lacked the resources fully to develop the XJC (1975-1998) and although it was displayed to much acclaim in 1973, not for another two seasons would it appear in showrooms, the programme starved of capital because greater priority was afforded to the XJ-S (1975-1996 and from 1991 officially “XJS”, a change most of the world informally had long adopted) which was thought a product with greater potential in the vital US market.  The XJC thus debuted with problems including (1) flawed sealing of the side windows which resulted in intrusive wind-noise, (2) a tendency of the doors to droop because, although longer and thus heavier than those of the four-door saloons, the same hinges were used and (3) the pillarless (ie a two-door hardtop) construction induced a slight flexing in the roof’s metal and while not a structural issue, because regulators had (quite sensibly) had lead removed from paint, the paint on the roof was prone to crazing.  The solutions (the development of exotic paint additives or re-designing the roof with heavier-gauge metal) would have been expensive and time-consuming so, in the British Leyland tradition, the Q&D (quick & dirty) approach was preferred and a vinyl roof was glued on but modern paints mean the ugly vinyl can now be removed so the roof’s lovely lines can be admired.  The leaper badges on the flanks (behind the front wheel arch) were factory-fitted on the Series 1 (1968-1973) & Series 2 (1973-1979) XJs.

Jaguar’s cancelled Growler (left) and the new (EV-friendly) Leaper.  According to the MBAs, the message the Leaper conveys is: “Always leaping forward, it is a representation of excellence and hallmark of the brand.”

The companion bad to the Leaper was the “Growler” which featured the head of a Jaguar, mid-growl.  There were over the years many version of the growler and it appeared variously on trunk-lids, grills, steering wheel bosses and such.  Because as a fitting it was never rendered in a way likely to cause injury to pedestrians, it might have been supposed it wouldn’t be vulnerable to cancellation but it transpired the Growler poses a significant moral hazard, presumably on the basis that while the somehow sensuously feminine Leaper is acceptable, the Growler embodies toxic masculinity.  Whether Jaguar’s MBAs discovered this from focus groups or divined it from their own moral superiority hasn’t be revealed but in 2024 the company announced the Growler would not re-appear when the new range was launched in 2025.  Given the public response to the DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) themed preview of the company's EV (electric vehicle) re-brand, the presence or not of the Growler may not be of great significance but a new expression of the Leaper, (with something of a stylistic debt to the IBM logo), would be included so there’s that.

Bugeye & Frogeye

Bugeye (pronounced buhg-ahy)

(1) A nautical term for a ketch-rigged sailing vessel used on Chesapeake Bay.

(2) A slang term, unrelated to the nautical use, used to describe objects or creatures with the bulging eyes resembling those of certain bugs.

1883: An Americanism, the construct being bug + eye, coined to describe the 1880s practice of shipwrights painting a large eye on each bow of the ketches used for oyster dredging in Chesapeake Bay, an estuary in the US states of Maryland and Virginia.  Bug dates from 1615–1625 and the original use was to describe insects, apparently as a variant of the earlier bugge (beetle), thought to be an alteration of the Middle English budde, from the Old English -budda (beetle) but etymologists are divided on whether the phrase “bug off” (please leave) is related to the undesired presence of insects or was of a distinct origin.  Although “unbug” makes structural sense (ie remove a bug, as opposed to the sense of “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are regarded as standard.  Eye pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English eie, yë, eighe, eyghe, yȝe, eyȝe & ie, from the Old English ēge, a variant of ēage, from the Proto-West Germanic augā, from the Proto-Germanic augô (eye).  It was cognate with the German Auge & the Icelandic auga and akin to the Latin oculus (eye), the Lithuanian akìs (eye), the Slavic (Polish) oko (eye), the Old Church Slavonic око (oko) (eye), the Albanian sy (eye), the Ancient Greek ὄψ (óps) (in poetic use, “eye; face”) & ὄσσε (ósse) (eyes), the Armenian ակն (akn), the Avestan aši (eyes) and the Sanskrit अक्षि (ákṣi).  A related Modern English form is “ogle”.  Bugeye is a noun and bugeyed is an adjective; the noun plural is bugeyes.  Hyphenated use of all forms is common. 

Frogeye (pronounced frog-ahy or frawg-ahy)

(1) In botany, a small, whitish leaf spot with a narrow barker border, produced by certain fungi.

(2) A plant disease so characterized.

(3) A slang term, unrelated to the botanical use, used to describe objects or creatures with the bulging eyes resembling those of frogs.

1914–15: A descriptive general term, the construct being frog + eye, for the condition Botryosphaeria obtusa, a plant pathogen that causes Frogeye leaf spot, black rot and cankers on many plant species.  The fungus was first described by in 1832 as Sphaeria obtusa, refined as Physalospora obtusa in 1892 while the final classification was defined in 1964.  Frog (any of a class of small tailless amphibians of the family Ranidae (order Anura) which typically move by hopping and in zoology often referred to as “true frog” because in general use “frog” is used loosely or visually similar creatures) pre-dates 1000 and was from the Middle English frogge, from the Old English frogga, from the Proto-West Germanic froggō (frog).  It was cognate with the Norwegian Nynorsk fraug (frog) and Old Norse frauki and there may be links with the Saterland Frisian Poage (frog) and the German Low German Pogg & Pogge (frog).  The alternative forms in English (some still in regional use at least as late as the mid-seventeenth century were frosk, frosh & frock.  Eye pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English eie, yë, eighe, eyghe, yȝe, eyȝe & ie, from the Old English ēge, a variant of ēage, from the Proto-West Germanic augā, from the Proto-Germanic augô (eye).  It was cognate with the German Auge & the Icelandic auga and akin to the Latin oculus (eye), the Lithuanian akìs (eye), the Slavic (Polish) oko (eye), the Old Church Slavonic око (oko) (eye), the Albanian sy (eye), the Ancient Greek ὄψ (óps) (in poetic use, “eye; face”) & ὄσσε (ósse) (eyes), the Armenian ակն (akn), the Avestan aši (eyes) and the Sanskrit अक्षि (ákṣi).  A related Modern English form is “ogle”.  Frogeye is a noun and frogeyed is an adjective; the noun plural is frogeyes.  Hyphenated use of all forms is common.

Bugeye or frogeye: The Austin-Healey Sprite

1960 Austin-Healey Sprite (left) & 1972 MG Midget (right).

The Austin-Healey Sprite was produced between 1958 and 1971 (although in the last year of production they were badged as the Austin Sprite, reflecting the end of the twenty year contract with Donald Healey's (1898–1988) eponymous company).  Beginning in 1961, the car was restyled and a more conventional frontal appearance was adopted, shared with the almost identical MG Midget, introduced as at the same time as a corporate companion and the Midget outlived the Sprite, the last built in 1980.  Upon release, the Sprite immediately picked up the nicknames frogeye (UK & most of the Commonwealth) and bugeye (North America) because the headlights were mounted as protuberances atop the hood (bonnet), bearing a resemblance to the eyes of some frogs and bugs.  The original design included retractable headlights but to reduce both cost and weight, fixed-lights were used.  As purely functional mountings, such things continue to be fitted to rally-cars.  The linguistic quirk that saw the Sprite nicknamed bugeye in North America and frogeye in most of the rest of the English-speaking world is a mystery.  Etymologists have noted the prior US use of bugeye as a nautical term but it was both geographically and demographically specific and that use, visually, was hardly analogous with the Sprite.  No other explanation has been offered; the English language is like that.

1963 Lightburn Zeta (left) 1964 Lightburn Zeta Sports (centre) & Lightburn Zeta Sports with "sports lights" (right).  Not everything in the 1960s was groovy. 

1949 Crosley Hotshot.

Although distinctive, the look wasn’t new, familiar from the use of the Triumph TR2 (1952) and Crosley in the US had used a similar arrangement for their "Hotshot" & "Super Sport" (1949-1952 and notable for being fitted with four-wheel disk brakes although heey didn't work very well) and in Australia, Lightburn (previously noted for their well-regarded washing machines and cement mixers) were in 1964 forced to adopt them for the woeful Zeta Sports to meet headlight-height regulations.  The Zeta Sports was better looking than the Trabant-like "two-door sedan" which preceded it but truly that is damning with faint praise.  An adaptation (development seems not the appropriate word) of the Meadows Frisky microcar of the mid-1950s, the Zeta Sports was built in South Australia and initially it wasn't realized headlight-height rules in New South Wales (NSW) were such that the low-slung Zeta couldn't comply, even were the suspension to be raised, an expedient MG was compelled to use in 1974 to ensure the bumpers of the Midget & MGB sat at the height specified in new US rules.  Instead "sports lights" were added to the bonnet (hood) which lent more more cartoon-like absurdity to the thing but did little to increase its appeal, only a few dozen built in the two years it was available.

1959 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Speciale, Tipo (type) 101.20. 

Ungainly the bugeye lights may have been but they were a potentially handy addition given the original headlights doubled as bumper bars.  That seems a silly idea and it is but it wasn't unique to the Zeta and some examples had exquisite (if vulnerable) coachwork, such as the early (low-nose) versions of the much-admired Alfa Romeo Giulietta SS (Sprint Speciale, Tipo (type) 101.20; 1957-1962).  It was only the first 101 cars which were produced in lightweight, bumper-bar less form, that run to fulfil the FIA's homologation rules which demanded a minimum of 100 identical examples to establish eligibility in certain classes of production-car racing.

Lindsay Lohan in "bugeye" sunglasses, the look made popular by Jacqueline Kennedy (1929-1994; US First Lady 1961-1963). 

So aerodynamically efficient (the drag coefficient (CD) a reputed .28) was Carrozzeria Bertone's design that although using only a 1290 cm³ (79 cubic inch) engine with barely 100 hp (75 kW), the SS could achieve an even now impressive 200 km/h (124 mph).  Fitted with a 498 cm³ engine which yielded 21 hp (15.5 kW), the Zeta Sedan thankfully wasn't that fast but did feature a four speed manual gearbox with no reverse gear; to reverse a Zeta, the ignition key was turned the opposite direction so the crankshaft turned the other way.  All four gears remained available so top speed in reverse would presumably have been about the same as going forward but, as Chrysler discovered during the testing for the doomed Airflow (1934-1937), given the vagaries of aerodynamics, it may even have been faster, something which certainly may have been true of the Sports, (at least with the soft top erected) given the additional drag induced by the bugeye lights.  This was never subject to a practical test because unlike the sedan, the diminutive roadster had a reverse gear.  

The class-winning Austin-Healey Sprite, Coupe des Alpes rally, 1958.  With its goofy bugeyes and "grinning grill", the Sprite was often anthropomorphized.  It was part of the little machine's charm and, cheap to run and easy to tune, Sprites were for decades a mainstay of entry-level motorsport and still appear in historic categories.  For years they were cheap so predictably were repowered by more powerful engines including V8s, the transplantation of which could be challenging, as was the subsequent driving experience.

An Italian Bugeye: Pininfarina's Ferrari 330 GTC Speciale

1968 Ferrari 330 GTC.

Introduced at the 1966 Geneva Auto Show, the 330 GTC was an important model for Ferrari and something of a watershed, the model defining the template which would be used for a succession of grand touring models which profitably could be manufactured and sold in volumes which, by Ferrari’s historic standards, constituted mass-production.  Between 1966-1968 597 were built (the of-quoted 598 said to be a double-counting of one chassis number), buyers attracted not only by the style but also creature comforts like air-conditioning and electric windows.  Additionally, there had been refinements to extend the appeal beyond those drawn to the faster but more raucous sports cars, independent rear suspension meaning the ride was softer and the attention paid to NVH (noise, vibration and harshness although the acronym wasn’t then in use in Italy where all three qualities still had a following) meant merely the thing was less tiring (noise is a source of stress); the 330 GTC was said to be the first Ferrari in which the radio genuinely was usable.  Styled by Pininfarina, taking cues from the 500 Superfast (1964-1966) at the front and the 275 GTS (1964-1966) to the rear, it shared the 2,400 mm (94½ inch) wheelbase of the 275 GTB (1964-1968).  A lovely, elegant shape which aged well, it wouldn’t seem to need enhancement but Pininfarina did just that, using the 330 GTC as a test-bed for a number of design studies, some of the details almost imperceptible and some obvious.

1964 Ferrari 330 GT 2+2 (left) and 1967 Ferrari 365 California Spyder (right). 

Of the latter, the most obvious was the addition of a pair of Supervis (super vision) driving lights in retractable housings, as used on the Ferrari 365 California Spyder (1966-1967).  By the mid 1960s, integrated quad headlights had for a decade been a part of mainstream design but their appearance on a Ferrari  had not met with universal praise, the 330 GT 2+2 (1964-1967) produced for its first two seasons with four but reverting to what was judged a more aesthetically accomplished pair for the rest of its run.  Speeds however were rising and the networks of European roads designed for high speed cruising rapidly were being extended and the need for better headlights was acknowledged.  Soon, technology would provide that but in the short term the solution was to add another pair and the retractable units on the Superfast were a way to do that without compromising the marque’s recognizable design language.  It was only on the Superfast the Supervis lights were standard equipment and they appeared on only two of the four 330 GTC Speciales along with a handful of regular production 330 GTC (fitted upon customer request, most sources suggest only three took up the option) and the clearly limited demand, coupled with the labor-intensive installation process, dissuaded Ferrari from extending availability as early as 1965 they appear to have vanished from the option list.  Not until compelled by US regulators a half-decade later would the factory return to retractable headlights, by then in a symmetrical quad.

Ferrari 330 GTC Speciale (serial number 8727, Pininfarina construction number CO 004, left) and in bug-eye mode (right).  This does hint why rarely are the the 365 California Spyders photographed with headlights raised. 

The brace of Supervis on chassis 8727 had a history.  Sometime prior to 1988 the front of the car had been damaged and when repairs were effected, the bug-eye lights simply were removed, the suddenly gaping apertures covered with a plug from sheet aluminium; once painted, the nose again resembled that of the standard 330 GTC the car had once been.  It was only during a later restoration the plugs were discovered and information was sought from Pininfarina which provided details of the history.  Obviously the rotating mechanisms were no longer available so those on one of the 14 365 California Spyders were removed and disassembled, allowing every part exactly to be duplicated, a process as expensive as it sounds and, adding to the cost, it was necessary to fabricate a new nose-cone because the existing metal surrounding the plugs had become too fragile to support the weight.

Skinnytoker Trindalyn Mackenzie skinnysplaining that "skinny isn't owned, it's rented".

The bug-eye look was adopted by the skinnytokers (the skinnytok community said to be "the acceptable pro ana") because the exaggerated size of the frames and lens creates the visual illusion of making the face appear thinner although Trindalyn Mackenzie seems anyway splendidly slender.  

A French bugeye: The Matra 530SX

Matra’s 1967 advertising copy for the last of the Sports Jets (left) and a 530 (right).

René Bonnet (1904–1983) was a self-taught French designer and engineer who joined the long list of those unable to resist the lure of building a car bearing his name.  It ended badly but his venture does enjoy a place in history because briefly he produced the first mid-engined road cars offered for general sale, some four years after the configuration had in Formula One racing begun to exert a dominance which endures to this day.  His diminutive sports car (marketed variously as René Bonnet Djet, Matra-Bonnet Djet, Matra Sports Djet & Matra Sports Jet) were produced by his company between 1962-1964 and by Matra for a further two years, the French manufacturer taking over the concern when Bonnet was unable to pay for the components earlier supplied.  While Matra continued production of the Djet, it used the underpinnings for a much revised model which would in 1967 emerge as the Matra 530.

Matra R.530 surface to air missile (1962, left) and René Bonnet Missile (1959-1962).

It was only force of circumstances which would lead Matra to producing the Djet.  As Bonnet’s largest creditor when the bills grew beyond his capacity to pay, the accountants worked out the only hope of recovering their stake was to take the equity and continue the operation.  Although asset-stripping wasn’t then the thing it would later become, there’s nothing to suggest this was contemplated and the feeling was the superior administrative capacity of Matra would allow things to be run in a more business-like manner although there was genuine interest in the workforce’s skills with the then still novel fibreglass.  However, although Djet production resumed under new management, Bonnet’s other offerings such as the Missile (1959-1962) were retired.  The missile, a small, front-wheel drive (FWD) convertible was a tourer in the pre-war vein rather than a sports car but while the idea probably had potential, the price was high, the performance lethargic and the styling quirky even by French standards.  In looks, it had much in common with the contemporary Daimler SP250 including the tailfins and catfish-like nose but while the British roadster was genuinely a high-high performance (if flawed) sports car, the missile did not live up to its name; under the hood (bonnet) sat small (some sub 1000 cm³) four cylinder engines rather than the Daimler’s sonorous V8.  One influence did however carry over: Matra named the 530 after one of their other products: the R.530 surface to air missile which had entered service in 1962 after a five year development.

Vis-à-vis: Matra 530: The LX (left) and the SX (right).

Using three-numeral numbers for car names is not unusual but usually the reference is to engine capacity (in the metric world a 280 being 2.8 litres, a 350, 3.5 litres etc while in imperial terms 350, 427 et al stood as an indication of the displacement in cubic inches).  Buick proved a contrarian, their 445 V8 gaining the name from its torque rating and the company used 225 in honor of the impressive 225 inch (5.7 m) length of the the 1959 Electra (Jayne Mansfield (1933–1967) died in a 225), sticking to to it for years even as the thing grew and shrunk and there have been many three-digit numbers which indicated a model's place in the hierarchy, the choice sometimes seemingly arbitrary.  Porsche in 1963 thought 901 was innocuous but Peugeot objected, claiming an exclusive right (for cars sold in France) to the use of three digit numbers with a central "0".  At that point Mercedes-Benz had in France been for a decade been selling the 300 and were about to release the 600 so it seemed an ambitious claim but, given the advice the case would be heard in a French court (which meant the French would win), Porsche renamed the thing 911 and the rest is history.  The "Letter Series" Chrysler 300 gained the name from its industry-leading 300 horse power, 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 and such was the reputation the thing soon established that even though over the following eleven years displacement and power both rose, the "300" model designation was retained, the allure so strong there was a twenty-first century revival.  Even now, 300 sounds an impressive number if linked to horsepower while the "110" used by both Austin and Wolseley doesn't stir the imagination, even though it denoted a useful 11% jump in horsepower from the previous 99.  The three-dozen odd models of the French Monica (1971-1975) were all called "560" because although Chrysler invoiced the company for "340 cid" (cubic inch displacement) V8s, to have called it the 340 would have baffled many in Europe for whom inches were mysterious so 560 it was, a familiar allusion to its 5.6 litres.  Unfortunately, after the ripples of the first oil shock washed over Europe after 1973, engines of that size become suddenly unfashionable and Monica was doomed along with most of the once lucrative trans-Atlantic ecosystem.  

1971 Chrysler (Australia) VG Valiant Regal 770 Hardtop.

Perhaps because 220, 440, 330 and such can be multiples of amicable numbers (and thus possess a beauty for mathematicians), they seem to have been used as model designations unrelated to the three numeral string’s usual function of (usually with some rounding up or down) indicating engine displacement (Kawasaki 440=440 cm3; Mercedes-Benz 220=2.2 litres; Oldsmobile 330=330 cid etc). AMC (American Motor Corporation) had the most complete sequence, using 220, 330, 440, 550, 660, 770, 880 & 990 to tag a model’s place in the hierarchy and in Australia Chrysler used 660 and 770 for their blinged-up Hillman Hunter and Valiant respectively; they also called the Hunter a “Royal” in case 660 was too abstract for the colonials. There, Ford's Mark 1 Cortina was sold as a 220 (the so-called "poverty" model which was a two-door without even a standard heater so it could be advertised at the lowest possible price) & 440 (the better equipped four-door version).  When a two door version with the 440 equipment levels was released, in stead of 330 it was called 240. 550 is also a footnote because the Mercedes-Benz R230 (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

Nor is a link with the materiel of the military unusual, the names of warships have been borrowed and Chevrolet used Corvette as a deliberate allusion to speed and agility but an air-to-air missile was an unusual source although Dodge did once display a Sidewinder show car.  Eventually the Corvette did live up to its name although the humble Triumph Spitfire was a far cry from the fighter aircraft which became famous in the Battle of Britain (1940).  At the time though, it wasn't the Matra's name which attracted most comment.  There have been quite a few French cars which looked weirder than the 530 but the small, mid-engined sports car was visually strange enough although, almost sixty years on, it has aged rather well and the appearance would by most plausibly be accepted as something decades younger.  The automotive venture wasn’t a risk for Matra because it was a large and diversified industrial conglomerate with profitable interests in transport, telecommunications, aerospace and of course defence (missiles, cluster-bombs, rockets and all that).  As things transpired, the automotive division would for a while prove a valuable prestige project, the participation in motorsport yielding a Formula One Constructors’ Championship and three back-to-back victories in the Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic.

Matra 530: The LX (left) and the SX (right).

The road-car business however proved challenging and Matra never became a major player.  Although the British and Italians would prove there was a market for small, economical sports cars, buyers seemed mostly to prefer more traditionally engineered roadsters which were ruggedly handsome rather than delicately avant-garde.  Although as a niche model in a niche market, the volumes were never high, the 530 was subject to constant development and in 1970 the 530LX was released, distinguished by detail changes and some mechanical improvements.  Most distinctive however was next year’s 530SX, an exercise in “de-contenting” (producing what the US industry used to call a “stripper”) so it could be offered at a lower price point, advertised at 19,000 Fr against the 22,695 asked for the LX.  It was a linguistic coincidence the SX label was later chosen for the lower price 386 & 486 CPUs (central processing unit) by the US-based Intel although they labeled their full-priced offerings DX.

Yuri Gagarin (1934–1968; Soviet pilot and cosmonaut and the first human to travel to “outer space”) with his 1965 Matra Djet (left), standing in front of the Покори́телям ко́смоса (Monumént Pokorítelyam kósmosa) (Monument to the Conquerors of Space), the titanium obelisk erected in 1964 to celebrate the USSR's pioneering achievements in space exploration.  The structure stands 351 feet (107 metres) tall and assumes an incline of 77° which is a bit of artistic licence because the rockets were launched in a vertical path but it was a good decision however because it lent the monument a greater sense of drama.  Underneath the obelisk sits the Музей космонавтики (Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics (known also as the Memorial Museum of Astronautics or Memorial Museum of Space Exploration)) and in the way which was typical of projects in the Brezhnev-era (Leonid Brezhnev (1906–1982; Soviet leader 1964-1982) USSR, although construction was begun in 1964, it wasn't until 1981 the museum opened to the public.  In the Soviet Union, while it was common for projects to be delayed for years, they were usually described as "ahead of schedule". 

The reduction in the cost of production of the SX was achieved in the usual way: remove whatever expensive stuff can be removed.  Thus (1) the retractable headlights were replaced with four fixed “bugeyes”, a single engine air vent was fitted instead of the LX’s four, (3) the rear seat and carpet were deleted, (4) the front seats were non-adjustable, (5) the trimmed dashboard was replaced by one in brushed aluminium (which was much-praised), the removable targa panels in the roof were substituted with a solid panel and, (7) metal parts like bumpers and the grille were painted matte black rather than being chromed.  In the the spirit of the ancien regime, the Frensh adopted the nicknames La Matra de Seigneur (the Matra of a Lord) for the LX & La Matra Pirate (the Matra of a pirate) for the SX.

Who wore the bugeye best?  Austin-Healey Sprite (1958, left), Lightburn Zeta Sports (1964, centre) and Matra 530SX (1971, right).

The SX did little to boost sales and even in 1972 which proved the 530’s most prolific year with 2159 produced, buyers still preferred the more expensive model by 1299 to 860.  Between 1967-1973, only 9609 530s were made: 3732 of the early models, 4731 of the LX and 1146 of the bugeyed SX and, innovative, influential and intriguing as it and the Djet were, it was a failure compared with something unadventurous like the MGB (1963-1980), over a half-million of which were delivered.  One 530 however remains especially memorable, a harlequinesque 1968 model painted by French artist Sonia Delaunay (1885–1979), a founder of the school of Orphism (a fork of Cubism which usually is described as an exercise in pure abstraction rendered in vivid colors).  The work was commissioned by Matra's CEO Jean-Luc Lagardère (1928–2003) for a charity auction and still is sometimes displayed in galleries.  In 2003, after some thirty years of co-production with larger manufacturers, Matra’s automotive division was declared bankrupt and liquidated.