TOO MANY ROADS BYPASS MY WAY [390]

The Ford Capri is a coupé car made by Ford of Europe from 1968 to 1986.

The Ford Capri is a convertible sports car made by Ford of Australia from 1989 to 1994.

The Ford Capri is the possible name of an upcoming sports utility vehicle from Ford of Europe, continuing the replacement of their original car range that included the Focus and the Fiesta [which I talked about here] with a more radical range of electric vans and trucks that includes another new SUV, the Ford Explorer.

However, this will not be the same Ford Explorer as sold in the United States. Ford didn’t really sell Jeep-like cars in the UK until 1993 with the Maverick, but that isn’t the same Maverick as the compact car sold in the US during the 1970s, which was replaced by the Ford Granada... which was supposed to be the same Ford Granada that popped up in Europe at the same time, but too many changes needed to be made to fit American standards and tastes. Lower-specification Granadas were sold in the UK as the Consul, reusing the name of the car it was meant to replace, as Ford was being sued over their use of the name by the TV company and motorway service station group also named Granada, an action which ultimately proved unsuccessful – Granada’s TV channel would later show Granadas being driven recklessly on “The Sweeney” and “The Professionals”. Traditionally the largest car in Ford’s range, the Consul had a coupé variant from 1961 to 1964, known as the Consul Capri...

Just as there initially was animosity over the radically different Ford Sierra replacing the popular Ford Cortina [link], there has been a ground swell in the UK media over the return of the name “Capri” – the Cortina-based European coupé was both an aspiration and rite of passage for British drivers of a certain age, especially those who pretended their entry-level 1.3 litre car was just like the top-line 2.8 or 3 litre V6 model. Since 1986, the Capri niche has been filled by Ford with the Probe, Cougar and Puma, the latter also a small coupé reinvented as a SUV, before being finally plugged by simply selling the Mustang in Europe, having been the Capri’s original inspiration. Nearly four thousand Capris remain on British roads, according to howmanyleft.co.uk – I would say that everyone that wanted a Capri like that has one, while others bought the Audis, BMWs and “hot hatches” that took the Capri’s place in the car market.

Ford can name any car it wants “Capri” – it first used the name on a series of Lincoln cars in the 1950s, and the Australian Capri was sold as the Mercury Capri in the US, just as the European Capri had been in the 1970s. Holding the rights to use names matters in the car industry – Ford of Europe wanted to call their Mustang emulator the “Colt”, but were stopped by Mitsubishi, hence using a name they already owned.

IT’S ENOUGH TO DRIVE YOU CRAZY IF YOU LET IT [8]

I know it is the twenty-first century, but that didn’t stop me from buying a typewriter. My nephew recently bought a second-hand one – of course, there are no new typewriters anymore – which reminded me of the one we once had at home, before computers overran it over twenty years ago. Looking at examples on eBay, I wound up bidding on a grey and brown Litton Imperial Mercury, a grand name for what used to be a very ordinary machine.

Once I make room for it, how useful will I be when using it? The challenge will be not to make a mistake, and to resist throwing the paper away to start again. If I slip on the wrong key, I should find a way of justifying the mistake, and see where that takes me. Or, I could just let rip:

“The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog, and ran to Currys to steal a food blender. He was arrested, and was made to speak the alphabet in a loud, clear voice. ‘A’, the fox said, followed by ‘B,’ then ‘C.’ By ‘J,’ the fox broke. ‘All right, I confess! The kids wanted smoothies, but they are so expensive to buy…’”

Anyway, buying a typewriter also means I can hear that particular clacking of keys and metal rods, a background to life and industry, that is just not heard anymore. This is not nostalgia, as I have grown up with computers, just as vinyl records are mostly being sold to people that grew up with CDs and MP3s. Old technology, if it works, does not have to be rendered obsolete or dead.

I imagine receiving a letter typed on a typewriter will mean more than one printed from a computer: there is still an element of craft on the part of a writer, not as much as writing by hand, but enough of a change to make a difference to the reader. Anyone receiving a letter from me will now know what to expect.

From this, you might expect using a typewriter would give me an ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response), the curious, dubious abbreviation now given to the tingling in the back of your head or neck you get in response to a sensory stimulus of some sort.

I only discovered a name has been given to this feeling when, after researching the typewriter I just bought, I found YouTube videos consisting solely of people typing letters, just for the viewer to sense the sound, and the physical act, of the typing. I’m sure it won’t be so great if you had the machine in front of you, engaged in a duel to harness the written word to create a work of great meaning, all the while trying to spell properly. For me, the feeling of release may only come when I stop using it.

Having said that, I am looking forward to getting started!

Meanwhile, the fox has been convicted of theft, and is currently awaiting sentencing.