Director's Notes – Episode 108

(NOTE: As always, Director's Notes contain spoilers)

Like Cal in episode 108, my mother had a 1980 Mercury Monarch, brick red, four doors. She and my dad bought it brand new. I was five. That car was one of my earliest memories, and I hated it, was borderline scared of it.

First off, the late 70s and early 80s were the nadir of American car-making. The rise of imports has as much to do with the quality of German and Japanese engineering as it does with the decline of Detroit's craftsmanship. And the Monarch was the nadir of this nadir.

The car was regularly in the shop, for starters. The alignment was poor, regardless of how often my father fixed it. It couldn't hold oil. The engine rattled. It sometimes just didn't start. It was a battery vampire, just sucking all the life out of DieHard after DieHard.

It didn't make it 3 years. My mom's next car was a Sentra hatchback. 

The Monarch's most powerful impact on my childhood was a literal impact. Note that around 1982, bench seats and disdain for seat belts were top of the list of patriotic attributes. 

I was 7, sitting in the front seat, unbelted, as my mother finished filling up at the Phillips 66 on Northwest Highway and Centerville Road in Garland, TX. As she turned left out of the station, we were blindsided on the passenger door. 

I didn't see the other car. I didn't have to go to the doctor. I didn't even cry. I didn't feel anything. I was pushed forward into the dashboard, bumping my head onto the windshield. All I remember was being sleepy. This was before concussion protocols. 

I hated that car for that wreck. Not the other driver. Not car accidents. Not cars in general. I love cars. I like big cars, fast cars. Cars. Cars are great. Not the Mercury Monarch though. It was a lazy, rotten, broken, and it couldn't protect me from impact. 

I legitimately feared getting in that car, for fear I would hit my face again, for fear it would strand us on the highway, for fear my dad would start complaining again about Ford products. 

So forgive my little dig at the 37-year-old vehicle and defunct manufacturer in this episode. It's all I feel I could do.

- Jeffrey Cranor
May 15, 2017