For years, automotive brochure historians have been seeking out an elusive, long-rumored quarry. Something mentioned and discussed in hushed, reverent tones, something that, statistically, everyone knew must exist, but no one has ever managed to actually prove it. Well, I’m delighted to tell you that I believe that I have finally found this long sought-after bit of automotive literature:
The boredest kid in any car brochure.
Sure, there have been plenty of kids in car brochures that look like they don’t really care or are struggling with a bout of ennui or perhaps are disinterested. All of those have their place, but can any of those match the weapons-grade boredom of this kid in a 1971 Mercury Montego brochure?
I don’t think so. I mean, look at him:
That kid is over it. Over everything, forever. However long he’s been in that field in that sweater with that car doing that shoot, it’s too damn long, and he is done. He can’t even fake a smile anymore. His eyes are delivering twin beams of contempt, fatigue, resignation, and blankness, and it’s devastating.
Good work, kid. You did it.
It’s sort of a shame, because that ’71 Montego there is kind of cool. These were Mercury’s badge-engineered version of the Torino, but it had some interesting and very ’70s styling cues, especially that prominent, pointed prow of the grille.
I also was going to comment about how novel and interesting the body-colored trim around the headlamp surrounds and inner grille area was on these, based on this picture:
…but then I looked at other pictures of the car and realized that those areas aren’t a matching body-color blue, they’re gray, and they’re the same on all the cars regardless of color:
It would have been pretty cool if they were color-matched, though. Also notable is how much the lack of a B-pillar adds to these cars. I’d like to see more hardtop designs like this today.
That grille is so prominent and beak-like, I wonder if that’s why they chose to feature a falconer in the brochure:
In addition to having the Boredest Child in Automotive Literature, this brochure may also have the Most Irritated and Confused Looking Falconer in Automotive Literature, a potent one-two punch of superlatives.
That guy has the perfect look of someone looking at a distant parking lot and wondering what the fuck some dude is doing by his car.
There’s also Slickworth McAscot here, rocking the Cyclone GT version of the Montego. I’ve written about these before, as these were pretty cool alternatives to a Mustang if you wanted the same massive 429 V8 Cobra Jet engine but in a slightly classier package and with a big gunsight-like thing on the center of your grille.
The Cyclone version also had a more exciting dashboard than the regular Montego:
See all those extra gauges on the top of the dash, extending way the hell out to the passenger side? The regular Montego didn’t have that:
I wonder how well you could actually see those gauges on the Cyclone? That ammeter is pretty far away.
Regardless, I feel good that the Boredest Child has finally been located. Please come to see my full talk about the Boredest Child and the search for them at the best automotive lit bar, the Brochure Thing in San Chlamydia, just west of Fresno.
But I want to go to Tashi Station to pick up some power convertors!
We had a 1971 Montego 2 door hardtop (for a family of 6) and the first thing I thought is “I have never seen a ’71 with body-colored headlight surrounds.” I took my first driving test with that car. Luckily California had stopped testing for parallel parking at that time since “everybody shops at malls”, which was nice since it was hard the figure where the front of the car ended.
So the falconer is obviously there because the original plan was a whole theme around Yeats’ The Second Coming. They couldn’t get the rights, but they didn’t find out until after the shoot.
But that’s why that kid has a gaze as blank and pitiless as the sun.
“Kites are sooo dumb.”
Junior is annoyed that Dad bought a 2 door coupe for his family of 4 – making the kids clamber over the folded passenger side seat to get in back where visibility is terrible too. And there’s no room for his kite in the trunk unless he takes it apart again.
Ya just couldn’t spring for the wagon, could ya Dad?
In 1988, I bought a used and abused 70s 2 door Montego for $50! I ran that car for one year and only replaced the alternator. I had some magnetic emergency lights on top and used it as my FD response car. (Drive it with lights and sirens from home to the fire station.) The car was so bashed up that when I would stop at an accident to assist, the responding cop would always ask if I was involved too! I picked up my then girlfriend (current wife) in it for our first date. The passenger door made that horrible creak when opening and closing. (Door versus Fender battle). Oh the memories…
That kid is GexXer Zero in the pre-adolescent state. Bored, invisible and born *over it*.
I miss offset front end name badges, like here. Bonus when they’re in script.
This brochure should show the little opera glasses they supplied with every Cyclone so you could read the ammeter.
My parents sold me out for twenty bucks and there’s nothing I can do about it. Everyone else’s parents are normal and I got model parents. Ten years until I’m gone. I’m thinking dental school.
Bored kid thought The Old Man was going to bring home a shiny new Mercury Cougar. Instead, it’s a Montego. Screw your kite, dad.
No, he’s lamenting that he has a stupid box kite that is impossible to fly unless the wind is approaching gale force and his sister has a normal diamond kite.
Hey, at least in the following decades Mercury really turned it around and became an exciting bra-…oh…oh wait…oh no….