Do I suck? That’s a question I end up asking myself far, far too often. Sometimes I’m able to dismiss it with a breezy, no, no of course not, baby! You’re the Torch! And then other times I’ll find myself confronted with some undeniable record of failure, and I’ll have to concede, okay, maybe I do suck, at least a bit. One of those records is how poorly I’ve managed to keep up with Mercury Monday, which is why I decided to do two things this afternoon: first, admit that, yeah, I do kinda suck, and second, provide you with a Mercury Monday on this lovely Friday.
In keeping with the general theme of sucking, I think I’d like to pick a Mercury that many, many people would likely say sucks: the Mercury Bobcat. They’d likely say this because the Bobcat was a re-badged Ford Pinto, a car that’s best known for having a design flaw so egregious and dangerous, and the handling of it so callous and bungled that the whole thing is now tort law legend.
And, sure, nobody is that crazy about fiery death, sure, but at the same time, the Pinto’s 2.2 liter inline four was a pretty great engine that went on to power all sorts of interesting cars, including the legendary Merkur XR4ti. And it wasn’t a bad design, really, I mean, other than the fuel tank situation.
The Bobcat was Mercury’s first subcompact car, and I think what I find so interesting about the Bobcat is that it’s a sort of object lesson for the concept of what defined “premium” for a car in the 1970s. Mercury wasn’t Ford’s premium-premium brand, that was Lincoln, but it was a definite step up from Ford, and as a result, the car needed to convey this concept.
Even better, the Bobcat is a lesson in what the minimum was that an automaker could get away with changing on a car to kick that particular car up a rung or two on the social ladder of automobiles. As a result, one could compare the Pinto and the Bobcat and learn a bit about the visual and other signifiers of automotive status in the 1970s, a subject that’s worthy of innumerable doctoral theses and long, long documentaries.
So, let’s do just that:
Now we’re finally getting into the essence of what’s sorta-fancy is. The two cars share almost exactly the same body sheet metal, with one notable exception: the hood. The Mercury has a “domed” hood, and that’s not because it has to accommodate a larger engine – it doesn’t – but because the hood has to provide room for the most important single signifier of “class” in the American automotive lexicon: a tall, chromed grille.
The Bobcat’s hood allowed for that taller grille with the fine vertical slats, a striking contrast from the Pinto’s low, wide grille. It’s a more archaic sort of look, really, but in this context, archaic means traditional, and tradition means class and money. Chrome also is a signifier of swank, so the headlight bezels are now chrome instead of body-colored, and the turn indicators have transformed from a quartet of rectangular windows on the Pinto into a pair of chrome-rimmed, almost lantern-like units, with lenses protected by a chrome cross for an almost nautical feel.
Bumper guards are chrome instead of all rubber, the M E R C U R Y name is elegantly spelled out on the hood, and wedding-invitation-scripr badges that read Bobcat are placed on the front quarter panel, above a bit of extra chrome-and-rubber trim to both protect the doors from dings and provide another little visual reminder that you had a bit more cash to throw around than your average Pinto-punter.
Around the rear, your status was primarily conveyed via the wider taillights of the Bobcat, which were seemingly made by chopping off the red section of the basic Pinto/Maverick taillights, flipping them left to right, and tacking them on at the other side of the reverse lamp. The result was much bigger taillights, which is another one of the American Lexicon Of Class’ visual signifiers.
On the inside, the primary way American carmakers in the 1970s telegraphed the idea that you, the car’s owner, were worth a damn was by surrounding you with fake wood, the automaker equivalent of giving you one of those quick upward nods of acknowledgement and respect. You’re better than plastic, they were telling you, or, more accurately, you’re better than plastic that just looks like plastic. You’re not quite worth real wood, of course (who among us is?), but you’re worth taking the time to be deluded into thinking that you are, at least just a bit.
For the wagons, there was another interesting discriminator of status when it came to wood paneling, and this was something that went across the Ford and Mercury wood-paneled wagon lineup. On Fords, the fake wood was bordered with more, paler fake wood, while on the Mercurys, the fake wood was bordered with chrome trim:
I’ve always found this to be a bit odd, as to my eyes, the light wood border just looks better, perhaps even a bit less fake. Still, I guess they had to do something, so thin chrome trim it was.
There were also more sporty versions, and those interiors had less wood and more black, because black was kinda sporty and kinda European, which could be made synonymous with sporty. In fact, on the Bobcats that had sporty appearance packages, we see an interesting conflict at play, because a lot of the signifiers of class are inherently at odds with the easy signifiers of sportiness. Here, look at this Bobcat with the Sports Package Option:
The tall, chrome grille and the chrome bezels all kind of feel at odds with the stripes and blacked-out pillars of the Sports Package, don’t they? It’s like the car is trying to be two different things, and it’s confused. When the Bobcat and Pinto were re-designed in 1979, the Bobcat lost its distinctive tall hood and grille shape, but that did lend itself better to having its chrome blacked out and as a result, the car had much less of an identity crisis:
That’s very clearly more sporty-feeling, and a bit more modern, too. Unfortunately, this redesign also robbed the Bobcat of a lot of its visual distinctiveness compared to the Pinto. You can see up there the taillights are now redesigned, but no longer as bold and wide, and from the front the situation is just as bad:
Aside from the name and vertical instead of horizontal chrome grille slats, what’s the difference here, really? Is verticality enough of a signifier of status to justify the Bobcat’s existence? I’m not so sure it is.
You don’t see too many Bobcats today even though a respectable 224,000 or so were made, and they’re not particularly in demand by collectors, even collectors who might want a Pinto. Still, I think a clean little Bobcat would be kind of a novel classic car to have today, even if it’s just a little rolling reminder of all those details that people once were told to consider “classy.”
The Bobcat people look like Steve Austin and Jamie Sommers. The Pinto people look like their stand-ins.
The Pinto guy actually looks like the *other* bionic guy, the unstable one that Steve Austin had to track down occasionally.
…”Other Barry”?
Mercury Bobcat – The Pinto with a Porn-Stache!
No matter, they were all turds. After 4 years of rust-belt winters I never encountered one that didn’t have rotted-out floor pans & would soak rear-seat passengers when hitting puddles. Pop riveted license plates were a popular fix because they lasted much longer than the sh!tty steel used on these death-traps.
Once again, nostalgia is a helluva drug. Reality is quite different.
It’s OK to miss a few Mondays because no one has ever benefited from to much exposure to Mercury.
That said, whether you prefer the Ford Zippo or the Mercury Bic Cat, the runabout model was the bees knees. Big glass hatch, roof rails, and room for six inside for beach runs – as long as two were lap-sitting girls. No reason to worry excessively about passenger safety in these rides.
Owned 4 Mercurys, never had a ford car! My exposure to Mercury taught me that most of the time the better equipped model will bring more enjoyment.
When my dad was a kid in the ’70s, his mom shattered the rear glass of their orange Bobcat by backing out of the garage with the hatch up. Whoops!
It could be because I grew up in communist Berkeley, but I still think the base model with a sticker you get for contributing to a “worthy” cause conveys status more effectively than some trim pieces you get for contributing to the automaker.
I was not aware that lipstick was available in ‘Chrome’.
Product idea!
Gonna be honest – I wasn’t really expecting *every* Monday to be “Mercury Monday” in the first place. Just like not every Tuesday *has* to be Taco Tuesday.
Speak for yourself…
That couple standing behind the blue one…I dunno, I feel like, so baaad for them. They look like idiots.
My very first car, bought by dad, was a ’76, exactly like the sport version shown in the photo with red/orange/yellow stripes and white wheels. I hated it and bought a ’76 Caprice without telling him.
The Bobcat wasn’t bad, just very small and slow. Biggest issue was rocker arms falling out from under the cam.
Mom bought a new car in 83 and I got handed down her 78 Bobcat. Of course it was the ubiquitous wood on white Villager. Worked out great for me. Free car, back seats permanently folded down with a blanket laid out for my German Shepherd, Pioneer KP-500 under the dash and a pair of Cantons, velcro mounted in the back so I could pull them out and put them on the roof for pit parties. All was good……until I got in a head on with a lady in a 79 Marquis. when I came to the carb (with the air cleaner sheared off) was where to OEM radio had previously resided. Surprisingly I was (relatively) unhurt, probably because I was onboard with seatbelts early. Whiplash, bruised chest from my chin hitting it, shins bruised from the kick panel, back of hands bruised from the dash. Walked away from it rubbing my neck (ended up wearing a collar for 2 months). Made the front page of the local paper. There were two notable upsides. a) the cash payout (I was in my lane -she was in my lane too), and b) I wasn’t rear ended by a 79 Marqis.
sidenote: no animals were harmed in this story – she was thankfully at home at the time.
I prefer the Pinto front end before and after the facelift: the tall hood is too chunky, and horizontal elements work better than vertical: the Pinto always looked rather sleek to me. The Bobcat’s rub-strip cuts rather than enhances the lines imo. I did like the Bobcat’s frameless hatch post-facelift — did the Pinto keep the frame?
Guess I’m more blue-collar than pretentious (language aside!): the only Mercury I really liked was a Canadian pickup I saw at Cars&Coffee one time
The frameless hatch was an option on Pinto. Personally, I’ve always preferred the “sedan” version with a trunk (previously owned both).
There was somebody who built and ran a mercury bobcat in stage rally in western Canada back in the early 2000s. It was spectacular but didn’t convey much of an impression of luxury!
I was wondering what the hell happened to Mercury Monday.
More bushel baskets of apples!
Yeah..again with the apples
The OHC 4 that these came with (and lived on through the ’90s Ford Ranger) was a 2.3L, not 2.2L, but I’m sure that’s just a typo.
I had a line on a local two tone blue and white Bobcat wagon coupe (with the opera window). I’m not sure if it was ever offered with a manual in that configuration, but I passed since it was an automatic. Never saw another before or since.
The two couples in the second photo illustrate the different kinds of men who drive these cars. Bobcat owners have chest hair, wear wide lapels and sports jackets, and hang out with beautiful brunettes. Pinto owners make due with generic Polo shirts and the girl-next-door blonde.
Bobcat drivers had that little glass vial with a spoon on a gold chain necklace. Pinto drivers had a Shlitz church key on their key ring
“Real Gusto in a Great Light Beer”!
Did anyone else suddenly get a strong image of the bull smashing through that wall??
Apropos of nothing, when I was in college our benchmark for absolutely toasted was 12 Schlitz. So if you were equivalently drunk, you were 100% Schlitzed. Halfway there, 50%.
I guess that means the Pinto is the car for me!
I’ll see your Bobcat and raise you a Comet!
What gives with all the apples today? Earlier there was the Corvair with the perhaps slightly half-assed demonstration of its capacity for apples & now this duet of Pinto & Bobcat being loaded with bushels of apples. Somebody’s really likin’ them apples today.
It’s an Autumn, harvest-time thing.
I’m surprised our resident taillight fetishist didn’t note that the Pinto’s taillights were hand-me-downs from big brother Maverick.
Hand-me-down taillights from another car, turned upside down and doubled up. There, luxury.
It was simpler times…
The only thing more dangerous than a Pinto/Bobcat was one shod with Firestone 500s.
That must be what Springsteen meant about “suicide machines.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-Qj58o87sY
Ironically the 500s are a great bang for the buck performance tire now. I keep debating far more expensive options an inevitably get the Firehawk Indy 500s again, I know the PS4s are head and shoulders the better tire but are they a *that* much better tire…
I remember when the originals were recalled I saw enough exploded that I could not imagine buying anything with Firestone and 500 on the sidewall.
What’s in a name?
https://www.autosafety.org/firestone-500-steel-belted-radials/
“…because the hood has to provide room for the most important single signifier of ‘class’ in the American automotive lexicon: a tall, chromed grille.”
Oh, not just the American lexicon, as the difference between an Austin Allegro and its Vanden Plas counterpart(s) will attest:
https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/52539079895_9e656a9dea_c.jpg
The VdP Allegro actually at least had a real wood-and-leather British luxury car interior. The Bobcat made do with the exact same interior options as a Pinto. Note that both of the interiors shown above, and the other two options (the base seats in cloth and the deluxe ones in all-vinyl) could be had on either a Ford Pinto or Mercury Bobcat.
The main reason to choose a Bobcat over a Pinto was if the local L-M dealer had a better rep than the Ford one.
So which is the finest example of this, the Bobcat or the Vanden Plas Allegro?
It seems great minds think in the same ruts.
At least the Vanden Plas had four doors. I’ll never understand the American predicament of ‘oh, we’ll punish them for buying a cheap car by not having enough doors! That’ll teach ’em!’ Like, how can you market the wagon as a ‘practical family car’ when you have to fold the front seats down to get the kids in?
At the time these were developed, the overwhelming bestsellers a size up were all coupes, and 2-door small imports outsold 4-doors.
Fordury Bobinto 😉
The Bobcats taillights look weird, but immensely better than the Pinto.