Curbside Musings: c. 1992 Ford Mustang LX 5.0L – Contact Lenses

1992 or '93 Ford Mustang LX 5.0L. Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, November 13, 2023.

Everybody in my family of origin wears glasses.  When I was a young kid, I had thought that getting specs was a rite of passage into the world of grownups.  From the time of my grand entrance into this world, even my older brother had worn glasses.  I had thought that he was cool, so getting glasses would also make me cool.  I waited patiently for the trip to the family optometrist that would result in this, thus making me appear older and smarter.

A funny thing happened on the way to that goal, however, when year after year, the report would come back that my vision was astonishingly perfect.  Was it the almost ascetic restriction of television viewing imposed by my parents, or their insistence that I not sit too close to the TV during Saturday morning cartoons that had preserved my eyes?  Probably not, because these same limitations were put on all of the Dennis brothers, and in time, my younger brother would also need glasses.

One of my new favorite "toys": 1:18 die cast of a 1979 Ford Mustang Ghia 5.0L three-door.

My 1:18-scale die cast of a 1979 Ford Mustang Ghia 5.0L three-door.  I’d love the real thing.

Of course, life in elementary school and exposure to my peers who wore glasses and were regularly burdened with the tasks of keeping them clean and in good condition (read: unbroken) helped to gradually change my earlier outlook.  In my quest for individuality, I had also come to view the lack of my need for corrective lenses as one thing that set me apart within my family.  This became clearer especially during the year my family spent upcountry in Liberia when my older brother, a teenager at the time, watched one of the lenses in his only pair of glasses drop from a bridge into the surging Mowi River.  That may have been the point at which any of my uninformed pining for glasses had ceased with finality.

My former 1988 Ford Mustang LX 2.3L, sporting cloudy "contacts".

My former 1988 Ford Mustang LX 2.3L, sporting “contacts”.

Fast-forwarding to the early-Aughts, I had moved from Tampa, Florida, to Chicago for a life-altering work promotion, and I had needed to get a new drivers’ license.  My old cubicle from the twentieth floor of a majestic downtown skyscraper had afforded me beautiful views of Tampa Bay, and it had been easy to take small visual breaks throughout the day by focusing on some point in the far distance after staring at my monitor for extended periods of time.  My first desk in Chicago, by contrast, was squarely in the middle of a fluorescent-lit room with only a handful of windows at either end.  Compared with Tampa’s year-round sunniness, my first fall and winter back in the Midwest seemed shrouded in lingering darkness.  “I did this for my career,” I kept telling myself, though my excitement at moving to this great city remained mostly undiminished.

1992 or '93 Ford Mustang LX 5.0L. Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, November 13, 2023.

A side effect of all of this darkness and lack of long-distance viewing opportunities during the day was that upon my first trip to my new optometrist in the Loop, this newly-minted Chicago resident now needed corrective lenses.  “Are you sure?  Can I take that test again?”, I asked, as the doctor gave me a firm, friendly, knowing look.  “We have a wide selection of frames to choose from, and I’m positive you’ll find something that suits you.”  Unacceptable.  I was in my late 20s, had just moved to this great city, and wanted to put my best foot forward as I sought to make new friends and hopefully start dating again with newfound authenticity in my personal life.  This move had afforded me a blank slate, and I had meant to make the most of it.  There was only one viable solution: I would go straight to contact lenses, at any cost.

The Thompson Center, reportedly soon to become the new headquarters for Google. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 5, 2022.

The Thompson Center.  Thursday, May 5, 2022.

If you want some comedy this Tuesday morning, imagine me in the grubby, nasty men’s room on the lower floor of the Thompson Center, near the Secretary of State office, spending about fifteen minutes trying to put in those contacts before taking the vision test for my new license.  My eyes were so red by the time I got back into the queue (I had failed the first vision test without them) that it might have looked to some that either I had been weeping or that I was now stoned out of my mind.  Putting in those contacts got easier and easier over time, though, and before I knew it, I was an old pro.  The only issues with them were when I’d get home drunk from the bar or club and had forgotten to remove them before passing out.  Peeling off day-old contacts was not fun, regardless of when my morning Advil had finally kicked in.

1992 or '93 Ford Mustang LX 5.0L. Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, November 13, 2023.

A strange thing happened, though, a few years after I had switched eye doctors when my old one had left that firm: my eyes had somehow corrected themselves and I no longer needed any help to see.  To this day, I still don’t need glasses, and while my eyesight has deteriorated as I approach the half-century mark, I’ve still got probably a few years left before I’ll need glasses, so my doctor says.  Which is fine.  I feel like I’ll be ready for that when it happens.  All of this reminds me, though, of when the regular, third-generation Mustang had gotten “contacts” in the form of composite headlamps with its ’87 restyle.  I was reminded of this when I came across our featured car in my neighborhood about a month ago.

1979 Ford Mustang brochure pages, as sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.

I have come to really appreciate early examples of the Fox-platform Mustang from an aesthetic standpoint.  I am really in love with the ’79, and its European-inspired, restrained, almost clinical approach to clean, sporty design.  Aside from the clunky window frames and resulting clutter in the greenhouse area (why, oh why, Ford, could you not have engineered frameless door glass on these otherwise beautiful cars?), I love the early ones from almost every angle.  The clean, red-and-white taillamp clusters with vertical ribs are simple and elegant, the bodysides have just the right amount of curvature to them, and the slope of the hood (a significant and costly change to the originally assigned hard points) gives a more purposeful look to what might be under it.  It now also had four eyes, which I will get to shortly.

1986 Ford Mustang brochure cover, as sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.

No one needs to point out that the Mustang had previously had quad lights for a hot second.  The thing about the ’69, though, is that the second set of lights, set into the outer edges of the grille, look more like large driving lights instead of another pair of headlights, and they were gone for ’70.  The front lights on the ’79 looked unmistakably like what they were.  Rectangular sealed-beams were still somewhat on the cutting edge at that time, having been approved for use in the U.S. for ’75.  By the mid-’80s, though, rectangular lights were everywhere, and on every kind of car.  The original 1979 – ’82 Mustang “face”, with the four lights flanking a rectangular eggcrate grille, had started to look like that of a generic economy compact by the middle of that decade.

1985.5 Ford Mustang SVO brochure pages, as sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.

The high-tech, high-performance Mustang SVO introduced for ’84 had dual headlamps, but it wasn’t until its flush mounted lenses arrived for 1985.5 that the Fox’s two-light look all came together up front.  It was the ’87 refresh, though, that was completely transformative for the garden-variety Mustang: one that not only included flush rear-quarter glass and updated taillamp lenses, but also SVO-esque headlamp / turn-signal clusters.  It could be compared to the point at which the Mustang of the ’80s had switched from glasses to contacts.  Looking at the ’86 and ’87 side-by-side leaves no doubt in my mind which is the more attractive car.  It was like that episode of Gimme A Break where middle sister Julie Kanisky got rid of her glasses in a bid to hotten up her image to try to join a clique that older sister Katie was in.  The ’80s.

1992 or '93 Ford Mustang LX 5.0L. Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, November 13, 2023.

Nowadays, and where the Fox-platform Mustang is concerned, my favorite editions are on either end of its production continuum.  Of the nine model years the Mustang had four eyes, eight of them were during the third-generation models’ run.  The best-looking ones, to me, are when that design was in its purest form, at its introduction.  How I would love a ’79 5.0L Ghia hatchback like the one my 1:18 die cast example was modeled after, or a latter-day ’92 or ’93 5.0L LX.

Owning an example of the newer one would feel like closing the loop, as the only thing I hadn’t really liked about my old ’88 was its embarrassing lack of power.  (At least it had been somewhat fun to drive, with its five-speed manual transmission.)  My genuine attraction to the ’79 gives me hope that if and when those inevitable glasses are perched on my face at some point in the not-too-distant future, things will still work out just fine.  There are much worse things than being a “four-eyes”.

Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
Monday, November 13, 2023.

Brochure photos were as sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.