There was a host of words and phrases that I had grown up mispronouncing, misunderstanding, and/or misusing until being corrected in adulthood. I can’t really blame my gifted magnet program public schooling in Flint, Michigan for this, as our teachers and the curriculum had us comprehending and using fifty-cent words by the time the training wheels had barely come off of our bikes. Both of my parents were educated and had gone to college (my dad held dual PhDs), so it wasn’t that, either. My Liberian-born father wasn’t going to win any awards for his diction, but he knew what he was talking about. My midwestern-born mother enunciated well enough, but she also had the maddening tendency to make up and regularly use terms I had thought were real.
I’d end up occasionally using some of her gibberish when with my peers, to the confused expressions of my classmates or the barely suppressed laughter of my friends. I can’t entirely blame her, though, as some of my unintentional misuse of the English language was totally my fault. It was in one of my earliest, full-length essays for Curbside Classic maybe nine years ago when I had misused “behest”, thinking it meant something along the lines of “disgust”. (It means command or insistence.) One of the commenters basically told me to get a thesaurus. I was traveling during the Thanksgiving holidays when that piece went live, and I had no access to a computer at the time. Somehow, I had managed to log onto this site from my flip-phone and in the most cumbersome process, ever, I amended the text. It was one of my shining moments here at CC.
Another example of my creative use of words was when I had used the non-expression “for all intensive purposes” in an essay during my junior year at university. My instructor, Ms. Morris, wrote in the margins how she wondered just how intensive those purposes actually were, before cluing me into what the phrase actually is. I write all of this just to set the stage for how the “Expresso” trim level of the Plymouth Neon never really had a chance for me to ever take it seriously. I will still occasionally hear an individual order an “expresso” from a barista.
If I know the person well enough, I might suggest in a light, funny way that the word is actually “espresso”, without trying to come across as a snob. I luuuurve coffee, but I’m not that guy who goes around correcting people to try to gain some sort of imaginary upper hand. I have known people like that. My thought process is that if I can discretely help spare someone the future pain of the recognition of continued mispronunciation of a word or misuse of a phrase, they will appreciate and maybe even thank me for it.
I’ve written four paragraphs about embarrassing, personal examples of the mangling of the English language and haven’t even mentioned the subject car. That’s because I could probably use an espresso at this writing in mid-September to jolt the old brain after a day of fun, sun, a little work, and a whole lot of walking. Suffice it to say that today’s Curbside Musings ain’t (yes, I just used that word) cerebral, but I thought this Neon was an interesting subject by way of being a two-door Plymouth from the late ’90s. It’s also from the first-generation design’s penultimate year. In fact, by ’98, there were just a couple of two-door Plymouths available – this and the Prowler. Talk about extremes on a continuum.
This particular car was built in Belvidere, Illinois, and features a 2.0 liter, dual-overhead cam four-cylinder engine with a healthy 132 horsepower to move its 2,500-pound curb weight. Plymouth moved about 87,100 Neons for ’98, of which 18,500 (21%) were coupes. By comparison, Dodge sold almost 130,000 Neons that same year, which were basically identical to what we see here.
This Neon represents the final mainstream, two-door model ever sold by Plymouth. The Expresso trim level wasn’t much for substance, adding just power windows and an AM/FM cassette to the Highline’s added features… and that name. Honestly, on most days I can’t decide whether I find “Expresso” to have been a game attempt at fun or just misguided and ridiculous. If I had been part of the decision-making process at Chrysler, it would have been at my behest that the name of this trim level be reconsidered.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
July 2024.
I wish I could like these cars. I got my first experience driving stick in a 95 coupe by one of my mom’s friends. In 2000 my best friend bought a 4 door expresso. Total heap of a car. I’m glad she bought the extended warranty. 3 transmissions later she traded it to the garage that was doing work on her husband’s VW beetle. They were really cute and advanced but they were not good cars. I wish they had been they’re still nice looking but….
I’m always a little disappointed to learn of a not-good ownership experience with the Neon, because they seemed to promise so much and seemed really innovative when new. I have no firsthand experience with one outside of a college buddy who had owned one from his worked well enough and he seemed to like it.
For whatever reason I knew of the Expresso but it never clicked about this being a cutesy (I’m being charitable this morning) mangling of the language for the intent of selling a car.
Then again, I have long known people who mutilate the language like there is no tomorrow. Isn’t there some linguistics professor somewhere who specializes in the study of butchered English? Maybe I missed my true calling in life…
You are quite timely. Later this morning I have a get together of field supervisors and I am giving a presentation titled “The History and (Ab)Use of the English Language”. It’s related more to curbing the number of certain types of words too many are letting fly at the wrong times and places. Did you know the word “fart” dates back to the year 1250?
Oh, dude – Business Writing 101 crosses my mind with more frequency than I can properly emphasize here when it comes to my job. I’m not perfect, but I’m sometimes horrified by what I see in writing in an externally received business e-mail. I let it ride because part of my job requires diplomacy. I totally get what you’re saying.
And no! I did not know that about “fart”. That’s some knowledge right there!
I also remember PaperMate “Expresso” pens.
I think one can still buy those. Great example / counterpoint.
Dang, I occasionally have to say to Mrs DougD “There is no X in espresso” even though she is the coffee enthusiast.
So I now realize there is an expresso, but when she asks for one is this really what she wants?
Doug, it’s true that we must sometimes pick our battles with those we love!
RE: Plymouth Neon Expresso Coupe – Proper Pronunciation
Ha! I thought you were going to discuss “Coop” vs “Coopay”!
Nice writing as always, Joseph.
Thanks so much, Dan. And I have always pronounced it “coop”. I think if someone was to come up to me pronouncing it as “coopay”, I’d think they were deliberately trying to be funny.
All puns aside, the swap of s for x probably was done for trademark reasons. There are quite a few live and dead trademarks for expresso. It’s much more difficult to trademark an existing word: 11,057 results for espresso vs 474 for expresso.
Of course it is not impossible, just ask Apple for computers. But if you’re trying to create a more distinctive mark changing a letter is one thing to do among many. Look at pharma – they create distinctive marks all the time.
Thank you for this. This absolutely makes sense in terms of how coined names as trademarks come into existence.
I much prefer the 4-door version of the first-gen Neon to this coupe, as the greenhouse just doesn’t look right to my eye. The rear window should taper back parallel to the roofline to reduce the size of the sail panel in the C-pillar. Besides, the four door configuration is much more practical if one actually intends to use the rear seat, which was actually usable for adults in the Neon.
As far as the name goes, perhaps the name Expresso was utilized to convey the impression of extra zip, like the caffeine content of a cup of espresso versus regular coffee. It wouldn’t be the first time Detroit chose a name implying better performance in what is essentially a trim package. Thanks too for letting us know the Espresso package was available on 4-door models as well, something I forgot or never knew.
One of my brothers had the “4 door”, version. White exterior, tan inside. Other one had the “4 door”, regular “Neon”.
The “spresso” was a “95”, I think.
The “just an ole Neon”, was a “2003-4”.
Aside from the “visual ques”, not much difference between the cars.
“Neon’s”, generally, didn’t like bumpy roads.
Agree that the back seat was “usable” space.
I had sat in the back seat of a friend’s Neon as a young adult, and maybe it was the airy greenhouse, but it felt like it had adequate room back there.
I much prefer the SRT-4 turbo Neon!
There is still a following for the SRT-4’s, plenty of aftermarket support.
I recall test driving a rare low mile used one many years ago.
The front windows were power, the rear windows, (all SRT-4’s were 4 doors) were crank.
That was different!
I quite like that the SRT-4 has a cult following, as I feel it should. Chrysler put out a little pocket rocket in the spirit of the WRX and Lancer Evo, and from what I recall having read about it, the SRT-4 did not embarrass itself.
William, like you, I think the four-door is more attractive. I didn’t have a problem with the two-door’s thicker c-pillar, and I thought the forward-leanimg b-pillar was a nice, differentiating touch. The two-door wasn’t as overly sporty-looking as, say, an L-Body Plymouth Turismo (still a pleasing shape to me), but I liked it for what it was.
Neither of my parents were native English speakers but both drilled proper spelling, grammar, punctuation and general usage into my sister and me. Especially for words derived or borrowed from European languages. So I’ll just point out that Expresso isn’t the only mistake here; the spelling of the city where the manufacturing was (and the various Plymouth models named after it) would not pass muster with Italians. Or students of historical architecture.
I’ll always remember the spelling of Belvidere.
20+ years ago I was writing a report for work on economic development in Northern Illinois. In that report, I referenced the Chrysler plant in Belvidere. My boss (a rather obnoxious person) jumped down my throat for misspelling the name, and not editing the report properly. I showed him on a map, with pride, that I spelled it right. He grunted, but he still didn’t like me after that.
Eric, it seems you were in a tough spot and just weren’t going to win, either way. At least you were correct.
Just to be clear, my obnoxious boss didn’t like me before the Belvidere spelling incident. It just brought me satisfaction to be right. But it’s just one of those little things that I’ll never forget.
And yet, Chrysler got the spelling of the Plymouth Belvedere correct. They could have just as easily pulled a Ford “Galaxies”. I’m glad they didn’t call it the “Belvidere”.
Well, say what you will, and pronounce its name any way you wish, but I do still have to give that car props for being 26 years old and at least looking fairly presentable. It’s not often that the 1990s comes calling looking fresh off the rental car line with all 4 wheel covers, unbroken tail lights and a relatively dent-free body.
As to the mispronouncing of words…yep, one of my speciealities. I’m also well known (because I cannot often spell “renowned”) to misinterpret the lyrics of common/popular songs. This started (to my parents’ dismay) when as an elementary school student I proudly insisted that the song was called “Piss Old Man!” (he played one, he played knicknack….). Continued through college where I was sure that a certain song named after a continent by Toto contained the line “There’s nothing that a million men on Mars could ever do…”. And I’m sure there are a gazillion songs bouncing around my head right now with absurd lyrics that I am blissfully unaware are my own unique interpretations.
Until I make the mistake of quoting one to someone. Which usually stops conversation dead and the listener offers the standard Bugs Bunny reaction of:
At least by now I’m used to it.
I for a long time heard the Toto song lyrics as “I guess it rains down in Africa”…
There’s actually a term for mis-stating the names or lyrics of songs (such as Hendrix’s “Excuse me while I kiss this guy”. Mondegreen.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mondegreen
Jeff, I was already probably in my late twenties and became a regular user of Google and Wikipedia that I started learning the proper lyrics to songs, including Africa. I was also one who thought Mars was in the lyrics. Much of the song disn’t make sense to me, anyway, so I just figured the Mars reference was in the spirit of the song.
I always have to slow down when I have to read the word “perseverance”, which I had grown up pronouncing “per-seR-ver-ance”. I will still sing my incorrect lyrics and I don’t care. Too much.
I’m 99% certain that the Neon “Coupe” used the same roof line as the 4-door sedan, technically making this a 2-door sedan. So there’s another faux pas to add to its name.
If they do share the same roofline, I think stylists did a great job of differentiating the two-door and giving it a somewhat unique personality with things like the forward-canted b-pillar and c-shaped rear quarter windows.
I admit that I pronounce the drink “Expresso” more often than not. The reason is that I heard the term long before I ever saw it in print, and just assumed that is was called Expresso. My wife can’t stand when I pronounce it wrong – but honestly (and with all apologies to Italians) it just sounds unnatural to me pronounced with an “s.” But I’ve never ordered one at a coffee counter, so at least I’ve spared myself that embarrassment.
Oh, and any doubt that Plymouth was just using a derivative of “Express” instead of referencing the caffeine drink is removed by seeing this ad from 1997.
And finally, on a (somewhat) related note, another automotive name I usually pronounce wrong is “Scion,” which I usually pronounce “Skion” instead.
It would be a fair assumption for one who had never heard “espresso” or know if the absence of the “x” consonant in the Italian language that the word might be pronounced “expresso”. So I’ll soften a bit. Thanks also for linking that ad and helping me state my case!
Oh, the Neon – definitely a car that went for broke on the “cute car” act (probably being rejected by many male shoppers for this, and who can blame them). Even for those who welcome obvious cuteness in a car though, “Expresso” is a bit much, in my opinion. Since coffee shops were all the rage around that time, they should have stuck with the correct spelling. Or just gone with Express, and maybe played around with the similarity to “Espresso.” Oh well. It doesn’t matter much, because it seems it was a pretty half-baked car; I’ve got no personal experience, but they seemed to disappear more quickly than even their contemporary Cavilers and Escorts (Excorts? Makes almost as much sense as “escort” for a car name – what’s it supposed to do, follow you to work? Or worse yet, it’s available for companionship, for a price…). Of course, going back to the Expresso the relative rarity, cuteness, and quirky name do all contribute to its place here.
Escort as a car name was always a bit of a head scratcher for me once I learned the adult context of what an escort could be. Before that, I guess I had associated “escort” with that same brand of luggage and its connotations of world travel. after all, the Escort was ostensibly one of Ford’s “world cars”, though the European and U.S. versions differed greatly.
“Neon Express” would have worked with me. I don’t remember these being any more flimsy than Escorts or Cavaliers, in my own recollection.
‘Escort’ dates back to the fifties on UK Fords, being a name for the low-trim version of the Prefect-based 100E wagon.
This gives it provenance, but makes it no more comprehensible as a car name.
Like you Joe, I have a soft spot for ’90’s Chrysler products. However, at the time I felt the 1995 Cavalier and Sunfire coupes, were cleaner designs. More honest, less contrived, than the Neon. Unfortunately, an earned reputation for cheapness, defined each of them.
1997 and 1998, were huge years for Sarah McLachlan. I have a feeling you might dig, her very first charting single in Canada. ‘Vox’ from 1989. Funny, but I consider this her signature song, though most Americans have never heard of it. She was twenty-one at the time. Beautiful song.
I remember hearing and dancing to “Vox” at various alternative nights at nightclubs when I was a young adult. This one might have found its way onto some of the mistakes of which I was a recipient. Thanks for bringing this song back to my memory…
It wasn’t obvious to me at the time, but Chrysler clearly tried to maintain a family resemblance between the Neon Coupe, and the Avenger Coupe. Visible, in their profiles.
..
Now that you point it out, I do see some similarity between the roofline of the A enger and that of the Neon coupe. It’s not dissimilar to how the early G-Body Dodge Daytona and L-Body Charger seemed to share some visual DNA.
I had one of these, a 5-speed, in the same shade of green. It was okay for what it was.
Towards the end of the Neon coupe’s run (there was no 2-door for the 2nd generation), Ford came out with their own 2-door Escort coupe, the ZX2.
I have sometimes wondered what a second-geneestion Neon coupe might have looked like. I was less impressed with the v2.0 sedan than the original, so I didn’t lament that there wasn’t also a two-door version.
The ZX2 looked okay to me. It was no Ford Probe (a vastly better looking car), but it was decent and seemed to have some 1990 Celica vibes in its overall look. In fact, I wrote a CC article years ago that referenced just that.
“…she also had the maddening tendency to make up and regularly use terms I had thought were real.”
Joseph, I feel for you! Same here.
My mother grew up on a pre-Depression Gippsland dairy farm, in a somewhat remote area her grandparents had pioneered. Her default English was faintly German-accented, but interspersed with a weird and heady mix of regional colloquialisms, words and phrases from a variety of languages (perhaps reflecting the folk who taught her grandparents English?), borrowings from much-loved books, and sheer outright inventions. When your local schoolteacher is your cousin from the next farm, school only goes to eighth grade, and you subsequently meet a word you don’t know, I guess you just learn to improvise. Dad had even less education, having grown up in an orphanage, and I suspect was probably dyslexic.
Calling snails ‘shellbacks’ – I still haven’t traced that one. Eating ‘shallamagouslem’ (L.M. Montgomery’s Rainbow Valley) that Grandma made, or ‘bubble and squeak’. Saying ‘brung’ as the past tense of ‘bring’. They’re the main biggies that caused confusion and/or embarrassment when I used them at school all unknowing. And alerted me to the differences between the 1930’s Aussie slang I grew up hearing and what 1960’s people used. And gave me a lifelong interest in language.
Oh, the car, right…
I love regular Neon styling, but here things go wrong behind the doors. It needs to lose that gawky B-pillar applique, which seems arrow-shaped to highlight how tall the roofline is in the rear, like they were trying to invent the two-door high-headroom limousine – or something.
The long wheelbase almost puts me in mind of a small Peugeot, which is no bad thing, but there’s something off about the rear roofline and the position of the rear wheel. I can’t quite put my finger on it though.
Peter, thank you for all of this. Honestly, much what you described about words used in your family of origin rings a few bells of familiarity. And that stuff was *ingrained*. Once I would start to offer the correct word or pronunciation, there was no having any of it.
It’s okay that we disagree about the effectivess of the Neon coupe’s aesthetics. You seem to dislike some of the details I think make it special. I’ve said myself how I have unique tastes!
Peter, I resonate with much of what you say. You raise the whole issue of what we here in the U.S. (and probably everywhere?) refer to as colloquialisms. “Brung” is one. “Might could” is one that I often use.
These are the things that lend texture to our language. They’re not ‘proper” English, but they’re the things that make language so very fascinating.
I use “might could” too – my wife can’t stand that one… I think it grates on her Midwestern sensibilities. I picked up “might could” when I lived in North Carolina years ago, but I rarely hear anyone say that up here in Northern Virginia.
I am quite sure that I mispronounced the drink before it became common in the midwest. The name would have been much better for a sports trim level on a pickup or van.
The pronunciation abuse that irritates me most these days is when someone says “begs the question” as a synonym for “asks the question”. Which is wrong, because to beg the question is to avoid it.
Oh yes, there’s a Neon here. I loved these, though from a distance.
JP, I’m probably guilty of “begs the question”. Hopefully not in one of my essay. Like the commenter said in 2015: I need to get a thesaurus.
I beg to differ; it’s not quite as simple as just “avoiding the question”. Here’s a definition of the expression, but it doesn’t quite do justice to the rather complex and arcane meaning:
To ‘beg the question’ (also called petitio principii) is to attempt to support a claim with a premise that itself restates or presupposes the claim.[9] It is an attempt to prove a proposition while simultaneously taking the proposition for granted.
It’s based on the rules of classical Greek debate, and I’m not going to go in depth in it here, as Wikipedia has a good page on it:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Begging_the_question#References
But the reality is that language changes over time, as it rightfully should, and very few people understand the original basis of that expression. Rightfully so. The colloquial meaning has of course become widespread, for obvious and logical reasons, and I use it regularly despite knowing the original definition and that some pedants will point that out.
I would not encourage anyone to try to use it in its original meaning unless they really and truly understand its meaning. Better to stick with its colloquial and common usage, otherwise you’re most likely going to confuse someone.
When was the last time I saw any Neon? Let me tell you…I don’t know.
I do remember when they were plentiful and cheap on the used car market. It seems so many kids had one as their first car. Their comments included; fun, cheap to keep, easy to “customize”, exciting/unreliable, more. A perfect first car.
Exactly all of this. I will say that if I had been of the age when the Neon was widely available as a used car for a teen, I would have way preferred a Neon over, say, an Escort or Cavalier. A four-door, though.