Home » The Many Couples Of Mercury: Cold Start

The Many Couples Of Mercury: Cold Start

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Selling a new Mercury in 1973 is a lot like selling a new Mercury today, only possible and less of an imaginary goal. As you may imagine, a big part of what makes people buy cars are irrational things, concepts and ideas and associations that don’t have anything to do with the cars themselves. They’re selling an idea about the kind of people who buy these cars. This old Mercury brochure seems to be focused on the sorts of couples that are Mercury Couples, because there’s just so damn many of them. Couples like that one up there, a loving relationship between a woman and her big carnivorous cat, a demographic sorely ignored in modern car marketing. But there’s more! So let’s look!

This one below the ad (sorry, we gotta eat) feels like the baseline couple, by the Marquis Brougham Hardtop, and by “Hardtop” that means there’s no B-pillar, which is pretty cool. They seem to be well-to-do, parking by the water’s edge, both maintaining a near-constant three-cocktail buzz, and both having some really awful opinions you’ll hear inthe first 20 minutes of conversation. Both will mistake you for a waiter, multiple times.

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This verdant tableau shows a pretty ideal Mercury couple: a man not afraid of big plaids and a woman who commands the loyalty of two of those fancy, narrow rich-people dogs. Afghans? I think they’re afghans. If she says the word “pickles” they leap into action and can skeletonize a full-grown cow in under 90 seconds.

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The Great Plains Couple down there is one that appreciates a good rock, as you can seem and I think that guy is wearing some kind of jumpsuit? A flight suit? Did he parachute in? Is that a one-shoulder tote-bag-style parachute, instead of the usual backpack type? Is that a thing?

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Oh man, does this next couple love to fish. Like, loves it. You’ll note only the guy is wearing fishing gear, and he’s wearing every bit of fishing gear you can get at a Bass Pro Shop inside of 45 minutes of grabbing. She’s not, because she was raised by bears, and fishes bear-style, with swipes of her hands, which have nails grown into long, strong claws.

That trunk is so packed full of salmon it’s like a solid mass of fish.

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There’s no way I’m believing this couple drove all the way to the Dunes of Arrakis there. These things had about as much traction as a sled made of ice, which may be why those two are just sitting there, in the sand. Also I was trying to see if the guy’s arm is behind or in front of her leg, but now I really can’t tell, and it looks like its going through.

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These two seem pretty happy with their Comet, Mercury’s re-badged Maverick. I like how she seems to have the same bumblebee getup as the car, too. That’s commitment to the bit.

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These two may seem like they just work at that place, but don’t be fooled; that’s their home. See the C and C on those doors? That stands for Carl and Chester, these two, and they dress like that for, it’s rumored, sex reasons.

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So, here, why does only he have a bike? Does she have to run after him? Because that sucks. Or did she drive out there in the middle of nowhere to find him? Now what?

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I’d like to think these two Marquis folks were invited to this lovely open-air stage-like lounge area, to sit in those papasan chairs, but they’re so lazy they just drove all the way the hell up to the place and just parked on the lawn, diagonally, like they own the damn place. What a couple of assholes.

Cs Merccouple 2 Do you have what it takes to be a Mercury Couple? Well, you and a friend? I sure as hell hope so. I think you do, personally.

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FuzzyPlushroom
FuzzyPlushroom
5 months ago

Regarding the last paragraph…

Several years ago, a friend and I were invited to a mutual friend’s wedding an hour away. We took a family member’s spare car, a loaded ’03 Sable wagon, since I didn’t have a roadworthy car at the time.

A few miles into the drive, the throttle cable snapped. Our dress shoes didn’t have laces, we were on a quiet back road, and there was jack for cell reception…

…but no more than ten minutes went by before an older gentleman stopped to ask if we need help, popped up the road to his house, and returned with a pair of laces that, along with a scrap of wire I happened to have that wouldn’t’ve been long enough otherwise, let me roll the window down and hand-operate the bit of cable still attached to the throttle body.

We got there, albeit a bit late, and made it home again safely.

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