Bandwagon

Bandwagon (pronounced band-wag-uhn)

(1) A wagon, historically large and often ornately decorated, used to transport the members of a band or musical troop while performing for events such as circus parades or political rallies.

(2) Figuratively, a party, cause, movement, fashion, trend etc, that by its mass appeal or strength readily attracts many followers.

1849 (although some sources cite 1855): An Americanism, the construct being band + wagon.  Band (in the context of a musical troop) was from the Middle English band, from the Old French bande, from the Old Occitan banda (regiment of troops), which may have been from the Frankish bend, from the Proto-Germanic bandiz, from the primitive Indo-European bhend (to tie; bond, band).  The Modern German spelling is Bande (band).  Wagon was from the Middle Dutch wagen, from the Old Dutch wagan, from the proto West Germanic wagn, from the Proto-Germanic wagnaz (wagon), from the primitive Indo-European woghnos (wagon, primitive carriage), from wegh (to transport).  The form is also related to the Modern English way & weigh.  Bandwagon in its literal or figurative sense is not directly related to wagon’s sense of “a woman of loose virtue” (the idea being she is being “ridden” in the sense of being “mounted for sexual purposes”, the same idea as the disparaging “town bike”) although, once a reputation as “a bit of a wagon” is known, some presumably would be inspired to “jump on the bandwagon.  The alternative spelling is band-wagon and it would be a useful distinction if the hyphenated form is used of the actual wagon while the unhyphenated is for figurative purposes.  Bandwagon, bandwagonist, bandwagonism, bandwagoning & bandwagoner are nouns; the noun plural is bandwagons.  Bandwagon has been used as a non-standard verb and the adjective bandwagonish is non-standard.

In sociology, the “bandwagon effect” describes the phenomenon of people often doing or believing what they think many other people do or believe.  There can be a sound evolutionary basis for this and it is often observed in the animal behavior described as “safety in numbers” which describes beasts clustering when a predator is hunting; while the predator may be guaranteed a kill, each individual has a higher chance of survival if in a group than if isolated and thus a more attractive target.  The idea is also known as “herd behavior”, “herd instinct” & “herd mentality” and used especially in economics, explaining some trends (buying & selling) in equity markets and notably, crypto-currencies.  Terms like “herd behaviour” are often used disparagingly but there is a certain internal logic, illustrated by Joseph Heller (1923-1999) in Catch-22 (1961):

“We won’t lose. We’ve got more men, more money and more material. There are ten million men in uniform who could replace me. Some people are getting killed and a lot more are making money and having fun. Let somebody else get killed.”
“But suppose everybody on our side felt that way.”
“Then I’d certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way.  Wouldn’t I?”

The usual expression is “climb (or jump, hop, get) on the bandwagon”, describing the tendency for people to follow others in joining, supporting or buying something as its popularity rises.  The companion phrase is “hype train” although some bandwagons become more personalized. The “Trump Train” used to describe the way the early successes enjoyed in 2016 by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) in the process to seek the Republican Party’s nomination for that year’s presidential election assumed its own momentum, gathering speed and numbers of passengers (train-like) as it went.

Armada Cornet Band of Michigan in Band Wagon with instruments (1878).

The original band wagons (initially never hyphenized) were large, open, horse drawn carriages used essentially as mobile stages, carrying musicians who would play as they moved, typically in a circus procession or as part of the spectacle of entertainment which was a part of nineteenth century elections in the US.  The band wagons themselves became campaign posters, painted in the colors associated with a candidate and thus emblematic of the party, which would explain why Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) in 1899 explained “being on the bandwagon” as meaning “…attaching oneself to anything that looks likely to succeed.”

Wagon porn: Band Wagon, wheels (43 & 55-inch); body dark green with gold scrolling on body & seats; gearing Naples yellow, ornamented with ultramarine blue & gold stripes; trimming dark green goatskin.  The Carriage Monthly, December 1881.

The terms “bandwagoner” & “bandwagon fan” are used to describe those who support or participate in something only because it is popular or successful.  The most frequent use is as a derogatory term to refer to those who discover an allegiance to a sporting team or franchise as they begin to enjoy success, distinguishing them from the “die hard” fan who maintains their supports in bad times as well as good.  The phenomenon is cross-code (football, hockey, basketball etc) and is a specific instance illustrating the adage: “nothing succeeds like success”.

In formal logic, the term “bandwagon fallacy” (argumentum ad populum) is probably better understood by the expressions used in common discourse including “appeal to the masses” or “mob appeal”, all made to sound more palatable in the Latin consensus gentium (agreement of the people).  Essentially, the fallacy is that if a particular view or attitude is held by a majority of the population, it must be “right”, the corollary of course that if something is unpopular, it must be “wrong”; these are the two extremes of the bandwagon fallacy spectrum.  Although used in psychology and political science, the concept is more familiar in commerce and the evidence is on display in all of the advertising material which portrays products as desirable simply on the basis of their alleged popularity.  The blending of all this with the “bandwagon effect” is encapsulated in the more recent portmanteau noun “brandwagon”.

The special use of “bandwagoning” in international relations (IR) was coined by University of Chicago political scientist Quincy Wright (1890–1970) in A Study of War (1942).  Characterized by some also as “accepting the inevitable” or “lying back and trying to enjoy it”, it describes the process in which a state shifts from being an adversary of a stronger state to being in some way aligned, either in a formal alliance or a state of peaceful co-existence.  Implicit in the arrangement is that any benefits which accrue from the relationship, vis-à-vis third parties, will overwhelmingly be gained by the stronger state.  Historically, such relationships often have come into being because domination by the regional or global hegemon is anyway inevitable and it may as well be accepted without the consequences of armed conflict.  In IR, bandwagoning is cumulative in that the more states which decide to align with the strong state, the more which will either follow the lead or seek an alliance with another powerful player.

The idea of juxtaposing someone getting “back on the party bandwagon” with falling “off the wagon” (ie drinking alcohol again) was hard to resist for at least one headline writer who knew click-bait when they saw it.  The phrase “fall off the wagon” originated in the US in the late nineteenth century as “fall off the water wagon (or cart)”, the device referenced the horse-drawn water tanks which were a frequent sight in summer, keeping down the dust on the unpaved roads of the era.  The idea thus was that to be “on the wagon” was to be drinking water rather than strong drink; “fall off the wagon” and you're back on the booze.

Scrofulous

Scrofulous (pronounced skrof-yuh-luhs)

(1) In pathology, pertaining to, resembling, of the nature of, or affected with scrofula.

(2) In figurative use, degraded, morally tainted or degenerate.

(3) In figurative use, Having an unkempt, unhealthy appearance.

1605–1615: The construct was scroful(a) + -ous.  Scrofula (primary tuberculosis of the lymphatic glands, especially those of the neck) dates from 1350–1400, from the Middle English scrofula (the plural), from the Medieval Latin scrophulosus & scrōfulae (swollen glands in the neck (literally “little sows”)), the construct being scrōf(a) (a sow) + -ulae (the plural suffix), the derivation explained by the belief breeding sows were particularly susceptible to the disease.  Scrofula is most common in children and is usually spread by unpasteurized milk from infected cows; No longer in technical use, scrofula was also known as “the king’s evil”; as part of the mystique of monarchy, the kings of England and France long pretended to possess the power of curing scrofula by touching the sore, a belief which endured and as late as the eighteenth century, there were still doctors who believed the only cure was to be touched by a member of a royal family.  Improvements in social conditions and treatment meant scrofula became a less common disease in adults by mid- twentieth century although it persisted in children.  With the spread of HIV-AIDS reaching critical mass in the 1980s, there was a resurgence in scrofula and it’s been linked also with monkeypox.  Despite the similarity is spelling, the word scruff is unrelated, being an Old English term for dandruff, the generalized sense of someone who is “rough and dirty” (and thus scruffy) dates from 1871.  Scrofulous is an adjective, scrofulously is an adverb and scrofulousness & scrofuloderma are nouns

The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).

Scott Morrison's five other jobs

Prime-Minister Scott Morrison in parliament while also holding five ministerial appointments.

The revelation former Australian prime-minister Scott Morrison (b 1968; prime minister of Australia 2018-2022), in much secrecy, had himself appointed himself to five ministerial roles in addition to being the head of government attracted some interest.  The public reaction was muted given the rather arcane administrative mechanisms involved but the usual suspects (journalists and political commentators) seemed to think it a great scandal, an opinion loudly and repeatedly expressed by Her Majesty’s loyal opposition who seemed most interested of all.  Others who had their attention stirred were those of his former colleagues (including the Secretary-General of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD)) who were unaware they were job-sharing with the prime-minister until they read about it in the Murdoch press.

Between March 2020 and May 2021, Mr Morrison, on paper, appeared to centralize power in his office by becoming Australia's minister of health, finance, resources, home affairs and the treasury.  In practice, the powers accrued seem to have been exercised only once but that was in a way which appears to violate the agreement between the Liberal and National parties which provides the parameters for the coalition arrangements maintained in government.  Even that, whatever the political implications, doesn’t seem to suggest anything unlawful and the general conclusion which has emerged is that the additional appointments were constitutional.  Whether there are technical reasons which operate to mean the parliament should have been informed is a matter for debate but unarguably, to do so is at least a convention.

Minister for Health #1 & Minister for Health #2 (#2 a replica rather than a fake or imitation).

The This uncertainty and the opposition’s inability to cite specific unlawfulness is why the attack on Mr Morrison was received, outside of the usual suspects, with such indifference, the suggestion of a general moral scrofulousness hardly the same thing as a smoking gun.  What the strange tale did provide was an opportunity for the amateur psychoanalysts to ponder Mr Morrison’s motives and map them onto his well-known world view which is that of an evangelical, born-again Christian.  In justifying his actions because the COVID-19 pandemic meant “these were unprecedented times which required extraordinary measures” and that “no prime-minister… had faced the same circumstances” and added that "there was a clear expectation established in the public's mind, certainly in the media's mind, and absolutely in the mind of the opposition… that I, as Prime Minister, was responsible pretty much for every single thing that was going on".  It was an interesting observation given that almost immediately the pandemic was declared an ad-hoc “national cabinet” was convened, consisting of the prime-minister and the eight premiers & chief-ministers and there was at least as much focus on that eight as there was on the prime-minister.

That was of course inevitable because of the way the Australian constitutions divides the heads of power between the Commonwealth and the states and Mr Morrison, during the pandemic, showed little hesitation in ascribing responsibility for many unpopular measures to the premiers.  In that he was quite correct and there is little to suggest there was a public perception focused wholly on him.  Indeed, what the operations of governments during the pandemic did illustrate was just how extensive are the residual powers of the states, despite a century or more of centralization of power by the actions of the Commonwealth and decision of the High Court.  Still, Mr Morrison says he felt the way he did and was presumably content to be the savior of the nation at its moment of need, an intoxicating prospect for any politician.

Despite the frequency with which it’s used, no edition of the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) has ever used the term "messiah complex" (a desire and compulsion to redeem or save others or the world, a form of megalomania in which the individual experiences delusions of grandeur) although other diagnosis are listed which contain at least some of the elements which are understood as being identified with the syndrome.  Of course, there was also the matter of him not trusting some of his ministers to be sufficiently competent to deal with a genuine crisis and it has to be admitted some of his more average ministers (some of them very average) didn’t inspire confidence.

In the chair: Woodrow Wilson at the Paris Peace Conference.  A Peace Conference at the Quai d’Orsay (1919), oil on canvas by William Orpen (1878–1931).

Those who believe in God, miracles, and that divine providence has chosen them for a special role probably don’t often trouble themselves with tiresome details, something the British diplomat Harold Nicolson (1886-1968) noted of Woodrow Wilson (1856-1924; US president 1913-1921) at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920): “That spiritual arrogance which seems inseparable from the harder form of religion had eaten deep into his soul”.  “This intellectual disability rendered him blindly impervious, not merely to human character, but also shades of difference.  He possessed no gift for differentiation, no capacity for adjustment to circumstances.  It was his spiritual and mental rigidity which proved his undoing.  It rendered him as incapable of withstanding criticism as of absorbing advice.  It rendered him blind to all realities which did not accord with his own preconceived theory, even to the realities of his own decisions”.

Most interesting perhaps is that the revelation of this matter is a story in itself and one which seems to confirm Mr Morrison’s sincerity of purpose in originally having himself created minister of this and that.  Because, in constitutional theory, ministers exercise the powers of the sovereign and many of those powers are limited to a particular minister, in a time of crisis, it can make things worse if a minister is unavailable.  Mr Morrison says he thought at the time the pandemic was declared, the information from overseas was dire and it wasn’t impossible that were the virus to take hold in Australia, it was not impossible ministers might drop dead (the Lord forbid, obviously) and it was thus a sensible precaution to have a backup for ministers serving in critical areas.  Not wishing to burden others, he assumed the duties himself.

Prime-ministerial intrusions into matters beyond their remit have over the years been a thread in a number of memoirs by members of cabinets who at times felt usurped but Mr Morrison's actually cloning and in parallel assuming another's constitutional authority was most unusual.  Some however were interested in other fields and, responding to accusations prime-minister Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was too activist in the conduct of the war and too inclined to interfere in military tactics and strategy, the political cartoonist David Low (1891-1963) in 1942 commented by depicting the PM as a politician-cum-general-cum-admiral-cum-air-marshal.  There was something in the criticism in that much like Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) and others not professional soldiers, Churchill was interested in grand strategy and the minutiae of detail like the calibre of shells but not the vast logistical & organizational operations which tend ultimately to determine success or failure.  Churchill certainly tried to exert influence on his military advisors in favor of his pet projects (of which there were many) and while some were inspired and (especially in the early stages of US involvement in the conflict) wise, the war effort was undoubtedly aided by the chiefs of staff resisting some of his more Napoleonic visions of battle, ensuring Quixotic ventures in the Baltic or the Far East never proceeded.                 

The multiple ministries Mr Morrison discussed some two years ago, in a matter-of-fact manner, with two journalists writing a book about the pandemic.  That this wasn’t revealed for two years seems to be simply because it was a good, juicy bit of the book which the authors didn’t wish to reveal in advance.  When it was published, it was mentioned just as an interesting aspect of pandemic management with not a hint it might be thought improper or even unusual, the secrecy mentioned but only in the sense of it be just one of the many things governments keep secret, so as not to frighten the horses.  It made the front page of the national daily but not as the headline, only a “color” piece rather than the lede, the details on page 2 while the main story was within, a discussion of the book.  Intriguingly for students for media management and the generation of moral panics, the media essentially ignored the story for two days before joining the opposition’s bandwagon attempting to paint the former prime-minister as morally scrofulous.  At that point it did get more interesting, Mr Morrison having appointed himself to five portfolios rather than the two he mentioned and that he’d actually once exercised the powers secretly vested and in a matter which had nothing to do with the pandemic.  What may be of interest is what's not (yet) known.  Whether the power Mr Morrison enjoyed as being minister of this and that was exercised to allocate public money for some purpose isn't known but if such allocations did in secret happen would be a matter pursue.  If the appointments were lawful (as all assume) there presumably any exercise of ministerial power would presumably also be lawful, however politically toxic it may retrospectively prove.  Case law will be of no guide because there have never been, as far as is known, any such cases.    

A quizzical look.  Mr Morrison, who still can't see what all the fuss is about.

Mr Morrison did call a press conference and there the evasive answers and obfuscation began.  His response to his actual exercise of one minister’s nominal authority was so carefully lawyered it should be a model answer for any law student explaining what a minister must do to conform with the demands of administrative law and in claiming he would publicly have advised of his appointment(s) had he exercised the power(s) was simply an untruth.  When asked why he’d vetoed something within the remit of the resources minister, he’d responded that it was within his power as prime-minister.  Still, however economical with the truth he may have been, all appears to have been lawful and presumably if God was that concerned about lying, he’d have added an eleventh commandant.

Groovy

Groovy (pronounced groo-vee)

(1) Of, pertaining to, or having grooves.

(2) Set in one's ways (obsolete).

(3) Inclined to follow a fixed routine (obsolete).

(4) Cool, neat, interesting, fashionable, highly stimulating or attractive; excellent. (used in the 1940s and then more frequently in the 1960s and 1970s; now dated but often used ironically or to suggest an association with the 1960s counter-culture (hippies, psychedelia and all that).

(5) A programming language for the Java Virtual Machine (JVM), now under the auspices of the Apache Software Foundation.

(6) In music (jazz), as a professional compliment with the meaning "performing well (without grandstanding)”.

(7) In music, melodious, danceable; particularly of a riff or bassline.

1853:  The construct was groove + -y.  Groove was from the Middle English grov, grove, groof & grofe (cave; pit; mining shaft), from the Old English grōf (trench, furrow, something dug), from the Proto-Germanic grōbō (groove, furrow”, from the primitive Indo-European ghrebh- (to dig, scrape, bury).  It was cognate with the Dutch groef & groeve (groove; pit, grave), the German Grube (ditch, pit), the Norwegian grov (brook, riverbed) & the Serbo-Croatian grèbati (scratch, dig).  The earlier form in Old English was grafan (to dig) and from here there’s a lineal descent to groove and, at some point, a fork led to “grave”.  The –y suffix was from the Middle English –y & -i, from the Old English -iġ (-y, & -ic”, suffix), from the Proto-Germanic -īgaz (-y, -ic), from the primitive Indo-European -kos, -ikos & -iḱos (-y, -ic).  It was cognate with the Scots -ie (-y), the West Frisian -ich (-y), the Dutch -ig (-y), the Low German -ig (-y), the German -ig (-y), the Swedish -ig (-y), the Latin -icus (-y, -ic) and the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós); doublet of -ic.  Groovy is a noun & adjective, grooving is a noun & verb, groovier & grooviest are adjective, groover & grooviness are nouns and groovily is an adverb; the noun plural is groovies (though groovers is more common).  The standard comparative is groovier and the superlative grooviest but constructs like supergroovy, ultragroovy and hypergroovy have been seen and the The alternative spelling groovey is extinct.

Groovy was first noted in 1853 in the metal working trades as a literal descriptor of the surface texture of metals and evolved into the general sense of “of or pertaining to a groove” and oral (either a dialectic form or specific to metal working) use may pre-date 1853.   One colloquial figurative sense was "having a tendency to routine, inclined to a specialized and narrow way of life or thought", attested from 1882 and linked to the idea of a grove being “something permanent, static and unchanging”.  That sense died out and the next figurative use was something of the opposite.  The reason English never created ungroovy or nongroovy is there were already number of words adequately to convey the idea, the one most associated with the 1960s counter-culture being "square" which used to convey the quality of "someone honorable & upright".  It's possible the purloining of "square" was developed from the familiar "straightlaced" although the eighteenth century "squaretoe" was an epithet applied to disparage the "prim & proper"; this later form is thought unrelated to the hippies' use of "square".

Lou Reed, Metal Machine Music (1975).

Usually, to be “stuck in a groove” means much the same as “stuck in a rut” (in a settled or repetitive habit or course of action, especially one without a goal or purpose) but in one case, implemented literally, it was a deliberate artistic act.  In popular (sic) culture, Lou Reed (1942–2013) in 1975 released Metal Machine Music, either (1) to fulfil a contractual obligation to a record label with which he no longer wished to be associated, (2) to annoy critics and others he didn’t like, (3) as a piece of electronic music, (4) to win a bet with Andy Warhol (1928-1987) or (5) because he was suffering an amphetamine induced psychosis.  Known as MMM or 3M by fans and categorized by most as noise, drone, industrial or minimal, it’s about two hours of modulated feedback running at different speeds.  Despite the derision attracted at the time, it’s since built a cult following and has been performed live, one approving reviewer suggesting MMM is best understood as “…electricity falling in love with itself”.  The original release was a double album on twelve-inch vinyl and featured a “locked grove” on the final track meaning the noise endlessly would loop, theoretically forever.  This “stuck in a groove” trick couldn’t be done on the new medium of the CD (compact disc) but there were no complaints the omission detracted from the experience.

Groovers in the groove: Lindsay Lohan (right) DJing with former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (left).

The slang sense in the context of jazz music is from circa 1926 and was used by musicians to convey a professional compliment: "performing well (without grandstanding)”.  This seems to have migrated to adopt its modern sense to describe something wonderful in the late 1930s although it even then tended to be confined to the young and, outside of parts of some US cities, doesn’t appear to have enjoyed wide use.  It became widely popular in 1960s youth culture which spread world-wide, including beyond the English-speaking word.  Despite falling from favor after hippiedom passed its peak, it’s never actually gone extinct and occasional spikes are noted, triggered usually by some use in pop-culture.  Generally though, it’s been out of currency since the 1970s although still used ironically.

Groovy.  1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda with Mod Top, the only one ordered with the Mod Top option; it must at the time have seemed a good idea.  The one-off Ivy Green Hemi 'Cuda was stolen in 2016 and has never been recovered.

The psychedelic Mod Top was a Plymouth factory option in 1969-1970.  Ordered mostly in yellow, the flower power themed material was supplied by the plastics division of Stauffer Corporation, chosen for their expertise in the manufacture of durable, brightly patterned tablecloths and shower curtains.  The company, dating from 1907, remains in family ownership and still operates but it’s not known if it's one of the Stauffer families which are branches of the Staufer Dynasty (known also as the Hohenstaufen) which provided a number of medieval German kings who were crowned also as Holy Roman Emperors.

1969 Plymouth advertising: Barracuda (left) & Satellite (right).  The copy called the motif a "pop print", an allusion to "pop art" which recently had emerged as a trend in the art market.

In the curious way Chrysler allowed its divisions to operate in the era, Dodge, Plymouth’s corporate stable-mate, offered a similar option called the Floral Top, the material for which was supplied by another company.  The companion to the Mod Top roof was matching vinyl paisley upholstery and floor mats which could be mixed and matched, some cars built with one but not the other although, despite it being possible, no convertible buyers (who by definition couldn’t tick the vinyl roof box) opted for the hippie interior.  Technically, Stauffer used exactly the same design technique used when applying flowers to tablecloths and shower curtains: endlessly repetitive patterns which repeat every 3-4 feet (900 mm-1.2 m), the same model used with most fake finishes for surfaces which emulate natural substances (granite, marble, timber etc).

1969 Dodge Daytona with Floral Top.

Few finds attract collectors like factory one-offs, genuine rarities produced by a manufacturer despite officially not being available in that configuration.  The 503 1969 Dodge Daytonas (produced only because NASCAR (the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) imposed a minimum build number in their homologation rules) included some extreme aerodynamic modifications and have long been sought-after, trading these days well into six figures.  It does seem Dodge may have made one with the Floral Top, despite it not being a Daytona option although the evidence for it being a genuine factory product is undocumented, based instead on oral testimony.  Many experts do seem convinced and, during the era, such "unicorns" did exist.

One's three choices to display one's grooviness.  Big florals definately are not "paisley" but the tag caught on and has stuck.  

1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda with Mod Top, the logo's groovy lettering part of the vibe.  Almost all this colorful vinyl was glued on during the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; POTUS 1969-1974) who, although a competent pianist, was not at all groovy.

It’s not known how many survive, many a vinyl roof being removed or replaced with a solid color after the hippie vibe became unfashionable but some with the option have become collectables and reproduction vinyl is now available for those wanting the vibe back; the closer to the original condition a car can be rendered, the higher the value.  Although in restorations NOS (new old stock) parts usually are preferred to reproductions, because of the nature of the material, a pre-cut mod top or Floral Top from 1969-1970, still unopened in its immaculate, original packaging, would likely crumble upon touch so the newer stuff is the only viable choice.  The nature of the unfortunate accessory is such that it’s never going to influence the price to the extent a rare or desirable engine or transmission might but, for the originality (or at least the replication) police, these things are an end in themselves.  Available in mixes of green, yellow & blue for both the roof and interior, 2,792 freaks ordered these in 1969 but by 1970, only 84 repeated the mistake, one of whom specified a Mod Top for their Hemi 'Cuda.  Altamont had prevailed over Woodstock; the 1960s were over.

Mod Top (Plymouth) & Floral Top (Dodge) production count, 1969-1970.

There however the patterned roof didn't die although the grooviness did.  Despite it being the intermediate-sized Satellite which in 1969 which attracted the most mod-toppers, Plymouth the next year restricted availability to the pony cars and demand proved embarrassingly modest.  Not discouraged, the factory in mid-year offered a somewhat subdued variation on their full-sized line, the Fury, a flourish perhaps surprising given the evolution of the market segment.  Until the 1960 model year, the “big three” (General Motors (GM), Ford & Chrysler) had each produced essentially one mainstream line (low-volume specialties such as the Thunderbird and Corvette just lucrative niche players).  Beginning in the 1960 model-year, that would change, increasing prosperity encouraging and the growing success of smaller imports compelling Detroit’s big three to introduce first compact, then intermediate and later sub-compact ranges, what came to be called the full-sized cars having grown just too big, heavy and thirsty for many.

1969 Plymouth Barracuda with Mod Top (one of 937).  Given it was 1969, one unappreciated thing about a Mod Top was that upon first looking into one, even if one had not dropped some acid, one might assume one had.

The market spoke and the full-sized ranges, while remaining big sellers, gradually abandoned the high-performance versions which had once been the flagships, the smaller, lighter intermediates, pony cars and even the compacts much more convincing in the role.  By 1970, the big cars ran a gamut from stripper taxi-cabs to elaborately blinged-up luxury cars (which grew so big they came later to be dubbed "land yachts") but attempts to maintain a full-sized finger in the sporty pie was nearly over.  By 1970, only Ford still had a four-speed manual gearbox on the option list for the big XL (though it seems none were built) and Chrysler, although the lusty triple-carburetor 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 could be had in some Fury models, it was available only with the TorqueFlite automatic.  All of GM's (General Motors) full-size machines were by then definitely heavy cruisers.

1970 Plymouth Gran Coupe with Paisley vinyl roof.

But Plymouth clearly believed the Fury still offered some scope in other stylistic directions; it was after all a big canvas.  Mid-season, quietly slipped into the range was the "Gran Coupe", based on the Fury II two-door sedan but bundled with a number of otherwise extra-cost options including air conditioning and the then fashionable concealed headlights.  What was most obvious however, was the paisley theme, a patterned vinyl roof with matching upholstery, most Gran Coupes finished in a newly created copper tone paint although other colors were available.

1971 Rover P5B 3.5 Coupé.

The Gran Coupe was retained for 1971 but the coachwork was the more elegant pillarless hardtop in both two and four-door versions, the latter still known as a coupe.  That attracted criticism from those who had come to associate the word exclusively with two-door bodywork but in the UK Rover had since 1962 offered a four-door “Coupé” although they did cut the P5’s roof-line a little, a nod to the history of the word coupé (from the French coupé, an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage), past participle of couper (to cut)).  Shamelessly, Plymouth ignored the etymology and invented the un-cut coupe, clearly believing gluing on some paisley vinyl vested sufficient distinction.  The factory also imposed some restraint on buyers: although the Gran Coupe was available in a variety of colors, only if the standard interior trim (tan) was chosen would the paisley patterned upholstery be available and, befitting the likely ownership of the full-sized line, the vinyl roof was subdued rather than the swirling psychedelia of the groovy Mod Top’s swirls.  In the twenty-first century the “four door coupe” became a thing but although Rover seems to have been the first to apply a “Coupé” badge, the now familiar motifs were seen in some coach-built four-doors during the inter-war years, the big Duesenbergs and Buccialis among the most memorable.

Following Rover: 1971 Plymouth Fury III Gran Coupe (four-door hardtop).  There are four door coupes because Plymouth said so.

It was for years the end for any exuberance in the full-sized lines.  Although the option of a four-speed manual transmission appeared in the early catalogues for the 1970 Ford XL, none were built and Chevrolet had already removed the SS option for the Impala; big engines would remain, indeed, they would grow larger but power would drop, the full-sized lines of both now hunting those wanting cut-price Lincolns and Cadillacs rather than something in the spirit of the old "letter series" Chrysler 300s.  Plymouth had already abandoned the Mod Top after lackluster sales in 1970 and the more dour paisley vinyl lasted only another year, consigned to history with the triple-carburetor 440.  Happily, decades later, big-power engines would make a comeback but fortunately, the paisley vinyl roof remained forgotten.

Burgundy vinyl (code V1M), before & after sun exposure.

Chrysler's use of the term "paisley" was actually a bit misleading; only some of the groovy vinyl was a true paisley but the marketing people liked it so applied it liberally, even to fabric with big yellow sunflowers.  To this day, in the collector market, the universal description is "paisley".  Customers didn't however didn't long share the enthusiasm felt by the sales department and by mid-1970, Chrysler realized they had a lot of bolts of un-wanted paisley vinyl in the warehouse; this was some time before just-in-time (JIT) supply chains.  The inspired suggestion was to dye the vinyl a dark purple (officially called "Burgundy," code V1M) and offer it only with the "Sparkling Burgundy Metallic" (code GM8) paint which was exclusive to the Imperial line, the theory being the same as used with hair-dyes: dark can always cover light.  Some testing verified the theory and in September 1970 the 1971 models began to be shipped to dealers, some cars parked outside... in direct sunlight.  Almost immediately, the now burgundy vinyl began to fade.  If nothing else, the incident illustrated the point made by Austrian–British philosopher Sir Karl Popper (1902–1994): What is critical in theories is not proof but disproof; it matters not how how many bolts of vinyl satisfactorily can be dyed purple, if just one fades in the sunlight then it's a bad idea.  Option code V1M was withdrawn in November, making it one of the industry's shorter lived.  A few actually were sold with the purple fabric still attached, later to fade, at which point most owners took up the offer for a re-cover in white or black vinyl but at least one (which must have spent the decades protected from the ultra-violet) still exists as it left the factory.

Prototype 1967 Chevrolet Camaros.

Chrysler wasn’t the only US manufacturer to offer a patterned vinyl roof, Mercury for a single season in 1970 having houndstooth available for the Cougar and even GM flirted with the idea before thinking better of it.  Hidden away in GM’s vast historical archive before being published early in the twenty-first century were photographs of the patterned vinyl being contemplated for the 1967 Chevrolet Camaro’s debut in late 1966.  Chevrolet seems to have produced prototypes with both paisley and houndstooth vinyl and intriguingly, also pictured were (presumably functional) side mounted exhaust pipes, exiting under the rear of the door.  Like the Camaro’s triple carburetor option (cancelled late in the planning process), neither the patterned vinyl nor the side pipes reached production, the latter remaining exclusive to the Corvette although even on the sports car they didn't see the next decade.

1970 Ford Mustang Grandé in New Lime Metallic with Ivy Green Corinthian Vinyl & Houndstooth Cloth trim with Houndstooth vinyl roof in green & black.

Although the term "houndstooth" had come into use only as late as 1936, it was a very old patter and not really "groovy"; it was associated more with the coats and hats respectable ladies might don for church.  It must therefore have seemed a good choice for the "non-groovy" Mustang introduced late in 1969 as a 1970 model.  With the Boss 302 & 429 made available for serious racers and the Mach 1 covering those who just wanted to look serious or do their racing a quarter-mile at a time, the Mustang Grandé was spliced in as a "luxury model" a market segment assessed by the industry as growing.  Ford decided to remove any ambiguity by spelling Grandé with a “é” (l'accent aigu (acute accent)), indicating the pronunciation should be Grahn-day, despite the spelling not being used in any language where “grande” exists.  As a "luxury" pony car, the Mustang Grandé was a harbinger for the trend of the 1970s as high-performance was, for many reasons, put on-hold.  The Grandé used a standard mechanical specification but included a long list of “convenience” and “dress-up” items and was a success; it was the spiritual ancestor of the “Ghia” versions which for decades would be the most elaborately equipped Fords.  Surprisingly, despite being aimed at a demographic not interested in going fast, the Grandé could be ordered with almost any engine in the catalogue, including the 428 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Super CobraJet, designed for use on drag strips and some really were built so configured; only the unique Boss 429 was not available.  

429 was not available.

Just so the neighbours would know its the fancy one.

A vinyl roof was standard but the rarely ordered houndstooth option cost an additional US$28; so low was demand that it wasn't carried over to 1971.  In 1969 the blinged-up Mustang Grandé lurked inconspicuously (unless the buyer specified the houndstooth vinyl roof) behind the Sturm und Drang of the Boss 302 & 429 or the Mach 1 but of the 300,000-odd Mustangs sold that season, a solid 22,182 were the Grandé, the popularity encouraging enough for Ford to retain the model in the range until production of the first generation (1964-1973) ended.  With the debut to the highly successful (if not fondly remembered) Mustang II (1973-1978), the concept remained but the designation was changed to Ghia, a designation Ford internationally would phase in for the top trim-level of many models.  Established in 1916, Carrozzeria Ghia was a Turin-based design studio and coach-building house that Ford gained control of in 1970.

1967 Mercury Caliente Grandé.  The Caliente was an example of the way Detroit quickly retreated from the often absurd styling excesses of the 1950s.  Critics at the time noted things like the Caliente looked "a little bit like every car made in the previous three years".

In an odd footnote to the corporate history, the 1969 Mustang wasn’t FoMoCo’s first use of the accented Grandé.  In 1967, the companion division Mercury had offered the Grandé package as a US$104.90 option on its Caliente (comparable with the US$105.63 it cost to upgrade to the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) V8 from the base 200 cubic inch (3.3 litre) straight-six).  Purely an “appearance package” the Grandé bundle included an interior trimmed in blue Gossamer fabric & vinyl or a Chambrey fabric & vinyl combo in black or parchment; adding further distinction was the option of a “vinyl covered Oxford Roof”.  The take-up rate of the 1967 Caliente’s Grandé was dismal and it proved to be a single-season offering but the concept was elsewhere clearly a growing trend and for 1968 Mercury jumped on the “Brougham” bandwagon and that proved a much more enticing label for bling buyers.

1967 Mercury Caliente Grandé (left) and 1965 Pontiac Grand Prix (right).

Bland though most of the 1967 Caliente was, it did have a touch of the bizarre in the headlight treatment. In the era, the "stacked headlights" motif was popular but what Mercury did was clumsy, the elegant detailing on the 1965 Pontiac Grand Prix a contrast.  Mercedes-Benz in 1959 had adopted the "stacked look" not by choice but because protectionist US laws banned the company's superior composite lights.  Intended initially only for the US market, the apparatus eventually spread globally because so many customers requested it be included.

Introduced in 1964 as the top trim level of the second generation (1964-1965) Comet, the Caliente, like a number of Mercurys, never really established a brand-identity and the Comet suffered a troubled gestation.  Based on the underpinnings of the 1960 Ford Falcon, the Comet was intended to be the Edsel Comet but the hasty decision to terminate the Edsel venture after barely two seasons of red ink rendered the model an orphan so the project was shunted to the Lincoln-Mercury division.  Such was the rush, in 1960-1961 it was sold through the Mercury dealer network not as a “Mercury Comet” but as a “Comet” and even when subsequently integrated into the range, it definitely was positioned as a “fancy Ford” rather than a “basic Lincoln” as some Mercurys later would become.  For 1966-1967, the third generation Comet used the platform of the intermediate-sized Fairlane but the Caliente’s Grandé option made scant contribution to its anyway modest sales numbers.