I was never a big zodiac person. That isn’t to say that I look down on those for whom their zodiac signs are a significant part of their identity in a general sense. When I was growing up in the Midwest, it seemed to be espoused, either overtly or covertly, that good Lutherans like the Dennises didn’t take stock in things like what astrological sign one was born under. I remember sometimes being in the grocery store checkout line as a kid with my mother at the local Meijer’s Thrifty Acres superstore in the Flint suburb of Burton. There would be a small box on a metal rack next to the gum and mints in which there were a dozen compartments and a bunch of little, neatly wrapped scrolls tucked into each one. “Ma, what are those?” “Those are zodiac scrolls.” “Can I get one?” “Absolutely not.” (I’ll state here for the record that my use of italics when writing in the way my mother spoke is not hyperbole.)
College life, or adulthood in general, brings exposure to different viewpoints than those we’re used to, and if we’re doing it correctly, this can help lead to healthy self-differentiation from the family unit from which we came. I can’t quite remember when this idea had started to solidify in my own mind, but at some point, I had started to wonder if there might actually be some relationship between what the weather was doing during a person’s period of gestation and how they turned out. The human body is roughly sixty percent water, and there’s scientific correlation between the moon and water. Different aspects of our minds and bodies are developed at very specific times. So, it seems to me that while I still don’t buy completely into zodiac signs being solid, exclusive predictors of how someone will turn out, there’s something there. That’s just my theory, anyway.
When the new Taurus had arrived to market toward the end of my time in elementary school, I had two main thoughts, which were what a radical design it was, and oooooo! it was named after a zodiac sign! I remember going to Country Motors in Owosso, Michigan with my family to check out their offerings as we had sought to add a new car to our stable after giving the ’77 Volaré coupe to my sister. The original thought was to get another second car, one that my dad would drive to the university and back, with the nicer car to go to my mother for all the mom-things she needed to do. We did stick with that plan, but for a hot second, we had looked at a Taurus with the idea that our new-ish ’84 Tempo GL would be bumped “down” to Dad, while Mom would get the Taurus. I wonder if the “Taurus” model name had worked against that potential purchase in my mother’s mind. I kid you not.
As I’ve gone through adulthood, I have met and known (other) individuals who have put varying levels of stock in the idea that having been born under one astrological sign or another had significantly influenced who they are as people. For whatever reason, my mind goes straight to the taurus folks I’ve known. Doing one quick internet search shows personality traits of a taurus to include being reliable and resilient (couldn’t this be anybody? I am both of these things), as well as diligent and ambitious in the workplace. These are good qualities to have, all of them! What sticks out in my mind, however, is those individuals born under this earth sign who use being a taurus as an excuse for all sorts of bad behavior and ways of being. “I’m a taurus. I’m bullheaded by nature, so you’ll just have to deal with it.” I call proverbial, zodiacal bull***t.
I’m sorry, but being born under any sign isn’t an excuse to shirk off personal accountability. I’m sure I’ve met many tauruses who were low-key about what part of the year in which they were born and also didn’t act like jerks, but it seems to me that the ones who are the most keenly tuned into this part of their identity are the ones who behave the worst. As an aquarian myself, I find it hard to argue that I’m not (again, going from a quick and dirty internet search) decisive, friendly, original, idealistic, and a little rebellious. (My parochial school kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Savings, would certainly be washing my mouth out with soap for the above paragraph.) It’s just that I have many other friends who share these qualities who weren’t born around the same time of year as me.
I feel like I’ve rambled enough about astrological signs by this point, so about the car, I know it’s from at least the second year (1993) of the Ford Taurus’s second generation. The ’92 GL was still sporting those tacky, un-color matched argent bumpers. I might have been able to home in on specifics through a license plate search, but it seems that this car no longer either exists or belongs to the same party, as my search results turned up empty. Over a million and a half of the gen-two cars were sold over the course of its four model years. Statistically, the ’93 was the most plentiful, with about 427,300 sold. These cars continued to sell strongly through this four-year run, averaging about 377,300 cars per year. There was a slight uptick of about 50,000 units for final-year ’95. I have to think this might have been driven partially by photos that were circulating of the upcoming, redesigned ’96. I like the look of the third-generation cars, but there’s no question in my mind that it was probably too much for a whole lot of people.
I had seen the featured car while walking to a neighborhood estate sale. I like what can be found at such events and usually at less expensive prices than what can be found in a thrift or vintage store, but there’s also the lingering melancholy of realizing that these are the items of a deceased. I feel that there’s a certain shield inherently provided when buying things from a store versus out of a house where someone used to live, a former residence of a person or persons who have since passed away. My initial thought when photographing this car was that it had been part of the estate, but it had Michigan plates on it.
Regardless, this conservative-looking machine is about as far from my idea of a hard-charging, bullheaded taurus of an automobile that I can imagine. The first Taurus had seemed exceptionally daring even if based solely on its looks and regardless of its front-drive mechanicals. The second ones were still handsome machines but seemed highly evolutionary, down the carried-over shape of the door handles. Even this one’s Mocha Frost finish is more akin in my mind to Dockers beige. I can’t think of another car from 1993 through ’95 that seems more bull-like, but any model year of LX-platform Dodge Charger starting from 2006 definitely fits that bill. Regardless, it was a pleasant surprise to come across a beautifully preserved example of a once omnipresent car whose model name use to make me snicker out of silent rebellion. Maybe I am actually more of an aquarian than I thought.
Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois.
Sunday, January 26, 2025.
Brochure pages were sourced from www.oldcarbrochures.org.
Click here for related reading on the 1993 Ford Taurus GL, from Brendan Saur.
My father bought a new 93, and I remember it mainly as the first car in the family that had a key fob for remote locking. The car was nice and all, but by 1993 it had gone from being really “out front” to being quite normal. In fact, Dad may have had two Taurii, and I don’t even remember because once you have seen one white Taurus, you have seen all of them. But wow, what a find one of these is now!! I am trying to remember how long it has been since I have seen one in any kind of condition, let alone as beautiful as this one is.
As for the Zodiac thing, I never paid much attention to it, other than to associate it with a cheezy pickup line in a bar. “Soooo, what’s YOUR sign?” As for Ford, once I realized that they made a Zodiac in Germany (I think), Taurus seemed fairly natural as a name. I wonder how they let Chrysler get Aries away from them? At least nobody ever made a Cancer. 🙂
Ford seemed to be ahead of the pack when it came to things like remote and keyless entry. I remember my grandparents showing us kids the keyless entry on their Panther cars like they were performing magic tricks. And I loved it.
The Ford Zodiac does sound familiar. And this is purely retroactive logic, but “Aries” fit the whole Dodge and ram imagery so perfectly for the brand (if not the actual car) that I can’t imagine the Aries K having been called anything else.
And the “Hey, Baby, what’s your sign?” thing reminds me of the excellent “Float On” from 1977.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UnhfUbuvAaY&pp=ygURZmxvYXRlcnMgZmxvYXQgb24%3D
Ford’s pushbutton keyless entry first showed up in 1980 on the Continental, Mark VI, Thunderbird, and Cougar and they were the first with that feature, before Nissan or Buick which also had them on some 1980s cars. Some people insist on calling the remote lock/unlock keyfobs “keyless”, but I always correct them if they do. If they insist they’re keyless, I ask them to get something out of my locked car; which of course they can’t, because they don’t have the key. The buttons are true keyless entry, great for beach trips where I don’t want my car key left unattended on the sand while I’m in the water (which would damage the electronics in the key). The pushbuttons let me hide the key in the car somewhere; I (or anyone I give the code to) can still get in the car without it.
I know I will come across as being pedantic, but in honour of my long gone mother, the Latin teacher, I feel I should point out that in Latin, the plural of Taurus is Tauri with a single “i”. My mother used to grumble about people mis-using Latin phrases and abbreviations. Is Latin still taught in high school in North America? When my mother was in high school in a small town Ontario in the early 1930s, she took not only Latin but also ancient Greek. When I got to high school in the 60s, we still were offered Latin, but no Greek.
With your / your mother’s background in Latin, I can imagine how you’re more attuned to things like the proper pluralization of Taurus, which is cool. It may have been my generation or the fact that I was not Catholic, but I had zero exposure to the study of the Latin language.
I also recently learned that the plural of “octopus” is “octopuses”, where I’ve been saying “octopi” for years. Whoops.
I have driven scads of these, all fleet cars at work. There is also a little nugget jumping out of the back of my brain saying the ’94 and ’95 models had body colored door handles, while the ’92 and ’93 models had black door handles.
These drove quite well. One of the many I recall was a white ’94 wagon (with red interior) that was just about ideal for utility, efficiency, and size.
A coworker in Sikeston was assigned a Taurus of this same color. He bragged about having taken it home one night just so he could consummate his relationship with his “old lady” in the back seat. Thankfully I was sitting up front when he bragged to me about this.
However, not all of them aged as well as the one you found. When I went to St. Joseph in 2001, I was assigned a white ’95. It had transmission issues, even after a replacement. Nothing slipped but first gear wound up and shifted so hard into second the front tires would bark. Other than the whiplash effect, it was fine. But it got sold pretty quick when it began again after the transmission replacement. Makes me wonder if it was some sensor or solenoid.
There are few zodiac signs that lend themselves to car names. Few can spell Sagittarius, and having a Capricorn would yield something corny. Plus Virgo would be bad. Pisces could work on sound alone.
Jason, I have several thoughts, the first of which was – about the body colored door handles, “See? Was that so hard?”. I get that the gray bumpers and door handles made for economical production, but nothing said the bargain basement “L” trim level at Ford like gray external plastic.
My second thought is how it must have taken all kinds of gymnastics for your former coworker and his lady to get busy in the back seat of that Taurus. 😆
There are few zodiac signs that lend themselves to car names.
I’m a Gemini, which was an Isuzu or Holden in some parts of the world. These were sold in the North America but by other names.
The Gemini was a GM T-car, of which the most well-known to us in the U.S. was the Chevy Chevette.
^ the early ones were; later Geminis were similar to the Chevy/Geo Spectrum sold in the US.
Here’s a link to a previous CC essay from Paul Niedermeyer with the various T-car variants, if any other readers are interested. https://www.curbsideclassic.com/curbside-classics-american/curbside-classic-1980-chevette-scooter-a-new-category-of-vehicle/
I remember seeing the Buick/Opel on the streets of Flint when they were new / newish.
And some of us are on the cusp — and those who take stock in the zodiac have all sorts of theories about that — purely Virgo with traits of Leo — what is that supposed to mean? One friend got about 250,000 miles out of their Taurus — he used it for work and drove 70 miles to work each day when he wasn’t visiting clients.
That’s some Toyota-caliber of miles – I’m super impressed. I remember these as being quality cars – or rather, the absence of negative stories about them. The Taurus in general has sat stop the U.S. passenger car sales charts for multiple years, so Ford was on to something. Or maybe not just because of that, because the Tempo had also been a strong seller. Je ne sais pas.
“Conservative-looking machine” pretty much sums it up for this generation of Taurus. I associate these most with fleet cars as at the time this second generation came out, I was deep into working at state universities. If you needed a motorpool car – as I usually did given that I was driving a rather rusty non-fuel-injected 22 year old BMW Bavaria at the time which was not about to get me across either Massachusetts or Kentucky – you got a Taurus. Usually they were white, or light blue.
I am maybe a bit of an anomaly in that I actually prefer the first and third generation Tauruses. The first seemed kind of groundbreaking (plus it was featured in Robocop) and the third was just wacky visually. I guess back then, I simply wasn’t the market for conservative-looking.
As to zodiac signs, I’ve always been fascinated, but have generally found them more entertaining than instructional. Your post got me thinking about whether there are cars with my zodiac sign (Gemini), and wow, there are. Just not in the U.S. apparently. For reasons I cannot fathom, there seem to be no vehicles named after my Chinese zodiac sign (Ox).
Jeff, you just reminded me that I’ve been sitting on years-old pictures of an old Bavaria! I am deferring to you to write about yours first!
At the end of last year (a few weeks ago)* I had my first meal at stalwart Shanghai Inn in the Ravenswood neighborhood of Chicago (open since the ’60s), and it was amazing. As I read the zodiac descriptions on my placemat, it occurred to me that my supposed descriptors were actually pretty accurate and not like descriptions of the other signs. I liked that.
The Shanghai Inn now is on my list for restaurants to hit the next time I’m in Chicago. Seriously. I love these old-school places where of course the Chinese Zodiac placemats are mandatory. Reminds me of the Red Dragon in Minneapolis (for which I think I may have written the last Yelp review (11/15/2019) of before it sadly closed https://www.yelp.com/biz/red-dragon-minneapolis).
My Bavaria is sorely missed, although as I think I noted in my COAL featuring it, it did sit for many years in my garage before I finally parted with it.
Jeff, thank you for posting that link to your Bavaria article – I must have missed it the first time around. Another old-school Chinese restaurant that’s top-quality is Orange Garden in North Center!
Ford/Merkur Scorpio … Dodge Aries … Ford Taurus … Isuzu Gemeni. My parents bought a brand new Ford Taurus in 1986. It was a solid, reliable car that my parents kept for nine years before trading it in for a Buick. The Taurus never gave them a single problem and teenage/young adult me loved its looks. On a side note, be glad you’re a rebellious soul. It’s those individuals who challenge norms and question authority that help to make the world a better place.
I was also a huge fan of the looks of the original Taurus when it came out – that is, after that period of getting used to it. I like reading that the Taurus was a fully-formed, high quality car from the get-go.
And thank you. I’d characterize myself as a basic rule follower who also has zero problems questioning authority or “the way things are”. I love order, but I hate self-serving BS. The world needs more strong, educated empaths to run things.
Astrology is a fascinating topic, and my interest stems from my background in astronomy, which I majored in during college. While I never landed a job in the field, I still find both subjects intriguing. It’s important to note that astronomy and astrology are distinct disciplines, yet they share a historical connection.
The constellations of the zodiac, which form the basis for astrological signs, are remarkable and worth examining individually. In my opinion, the following are the “coolest” constellations due to their bright stars and memorable patterns in the night sky: Taurus, Gemini, Leo, Scorpius and Sagittarius. These stand out clearly and are easy to recognize.
Two constellations fall in the middle of the spectrum: Aries – small but forms a neat pattern; Virgo – large and mostly dim, yet contains one bright star.
The remaining five zodiac constellations are mostly dim and barely noticeable in the sky: Cancer, Libra, Capricornus, Aquarius and Pisces.
No offense to those born under Aquarius or Pisces — I am a Pisces myself!
Another intriguing aspect is the effect of the astronomical phenomenon known as precession of the equinoxes. While I will omit a lengthy explanation, the main point is that this gradual shift has caused the astrological signs, as originally conceived by the ancient Greeks, to no longer align with their respective constellations. Imagine it as an engine’s timing belt slipping a few cogs.
For example, when I was born, the sun was actually positioned in the constellation Aquarius rather than Pisces. Similarly, someone born under the Taurus sign today would have had the sun in the constellation Aries at that time.
It will take approximately 24,000 years before the zodiac signs and constellations realign. This raises interesting questions for astrology: Should astrological identities shift according to the actual position of the sun among the stars? In my case, am I really an Aquarius rather than a Pisces? And, as a humorous aside, perhaps the Ford Taurus should have been named the Aries — if Dodge hadn’t already claimed the name!
Wow. This is the kind of deep dive in the comments that often make them so interesting. And of course in an alternate world, “Ford Aries” might have sounded normal, but the similar vowels sounds in “Ford” and “Taurus” seem to rhyme just fine.
I’ve heard it pronounced both “Tour-us” and “Tar-us”, not sure which is right – maybe both are accepted.
OMG!!! – I was stuck in a meeting all day yesterday, but when I broke from it, I had a conversation with a likeminded amateur astronomer coworker about this very subject… precession of the equinoxes. TOTAL CC Effect™!
Again, not to get too long winded on the subject, but I can stand on my driveway facing west after sunset on my birthday in June and see Castor and Pollux plain as day about 20 degrees up in the western sky. The Sun isn’t in Gemini – It’s in Taurus!
I came here to say that to me, all of these are just constellations along the ecliptic, nothing more, although I’m told by those that do believe that I am, without a doubt, 100% Gemini.
Anyway, as to the car? I drove T-Birds at the time, and had no interest in these, but I always found the second generation, especially in the higher trim models to be sharp looking cars. Like you, Joe, I also am ok with the third gen cars that are so often derided here. The Taurus has grown on me as they have become thin on the ground.
Too cool, Rick! The manifestations of the CC Effect continue to be wide-ranging!
Astronomy has been fascinating to me probably from around the time the original Taurus was new and I was learning about the constellations in my gifted elementary school.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Castor or Pollux, but whenever I’ve been under a clear night sky, I’ve looked for as many constellations as I can remember. I always start with Usra Major (the Big Dipper) and our boy Orion the hunter (another European Ford!).
Cassiopeia (the seven sisters) are sometimes spottable if I squint hard enough.
The “Seven Sisters” is often a nickname used for an open star cluster called the Pleiades. The irony here? It’s in the constellation Taurus 🤣.
Orion is actually a great constellation to use to navigate the night sky, just like the Big Dipper… looking at Orion (when he’s straight up and down in the south-southwest) find Rigel (the bright blueish white one in the lower right corner) and Betelgeuse (the bright reddish one upper left corner… don’t say its name three times though, or you might get a surprise visit from Michael Keaton)… draw a line from Rigel thru Betelgeuse and that’ll take you to the constellation Gemini… Pollux and Castor are the twin stars and the brightest ones in that constellation.
Use the opposite corners and draw a diagonal line the other way and it points to… wait for it… Taurus!!!
I love it when things come full circle. LOL.
Bonus for spotting Castor and Pollux in early 2026: Very bright Jupiter is quite close to Castor and Pollux — the 3 form nearly a right triangle currently. Jupiter and the twin stars are easily visible above the northeastern horizon after sunset; the trio is nearly overhead at midnight (for viewers in the northern hemisphere).
Oh, man. Thank you for the correction on the Pleiades. I’ve probably been going around like, “Oh, yes. My gifted elementary school education means I know exactly what I’m talking about here with these stars and such. Never mind that this was forty years ago. Just put me on ‘Jeopardy’ right now.”
Any time I’ve told someone interested in astrology that I’m an Aries, they say “That makes sense.” I have no idea what that means.
Aaron, when someone tells me my Aquariusness seems to check out, I think I just shrug and smile.
This might be the first time I’ve considered this generation of Taurus to be even mildly interesting – so thanks for the article. Looks like a very clean example, so I can see why you photographed it. Very true that by the time this car came out, the bullish name and the bland sedan hardly fit each other.
And not being an astrological person myself, I can never actually remember the various astrological signs, let alone their meanings. To me, a Taurus is just… a Ford.
While not a zodiac-themed car name itself, I remember when Ford’s Aerostar was introduced, its commercials featured the late 1960s song “Aquarius” – but replaced “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius” with “…Age of Aerostar” instead. I remember this because (being 12 at the time, and not really interested in ’60s stuff), I’d never heard the original song. At some point I heard the real “Aquarius” song and thought someone had copied a Ford ad. I felt dumb when I found out.
Let’s just say that I had first heard that commercial instead of the original song by the 5th Dimension, I’d not have labored under years of wondering as to what the “Age of Aquariums” was about.
That’s great!
Eric, yes! I totally remember those spots! And to echo Jeff’s comment, I had heard the Ford appropriation before the actual song, so when I had actually heard the tune by the great Fifth Dimension, I was like, “Oh, Okay. I like this, and no, it has nothing to do with a Ford Aerostar.”
What a weird advertising campaign; I’m sure that what buyers consider most important in their family transportation is – good aerodynamics…
That is a very nice 2nd Gen Taurus. Amazing condition considering where it lives. I will soon be resurrecting a Sable while people elsewhere call me nuts.
I think the Sable might have been the last distinctively styled Mercury (with more than just different grille / taillamps) with the exception of the final Cougar. I thought the first one looked super-futuristic, even if I wasn’t a huge fan of the rear wheel cutout treatment.
We had a 1990 Sable (part of the first generation), and it was a beautiful car, clearly different from the Taurus. 1990 was the first year of the driver airbag (standard) and ABS (optional, but only on the sedans, which we had). Ours also had those distinctive lace alloy wheels which were a fad during that time (difficult to clean though). I know what you mean by the rear wheel cutout.
It was a great car for the first 4 years (and payments) and 65K miles; afterward, it became a reliability nightmare, but we kept it for 10 years and 135K miles. The Vulcan V6 gave us no problems, a high point.
My uncle had a 93 SHO a few years back. (White).
I had an 89 SHO similar color to the car pictured, but more gold. (and a 5 Speed) 😉
Speaking of Zodiac..
I was just thinking that in ‘later years’ the “Taurus” was used by some “LEOs”? (Law enforcement Officers).
(See what I did there?)
😉
Speaking of Leo/Taurus… I’m a Leo (August), and my first Ex-wife is a Taurus. (and that’s no Bull).
So, there’s Something to this Zodiac business, trust me.
Nicely done, Terry. Nicely done.
BTW, any generation of Taurus SHO will always get a free pass from me. That kind of performance from a front-drive family car seemed super impressive at the time.
As far as astrology, I’ve always had a similar theory. The effects of the season during key periods in gestation and newborn life. Of course this only makes any hint of sense in the portion of the world with distinct seasons. As a lifelong Michigander I kinda take that for granted.
I never really liked the Gen 1 Taurus refresh. To me it’s just so bland and forgettable. Like change just for the sake of change. The original was bold and looked good. I wasn’t a fan of the oval fetish 96 either, but at least it’s not forgettable, Ford took a bold chance. And time has softened the blow, I saw a near mint condition green 96 or so wagon for sale near my work a couple years ago and was tempted, had I not had enough cars already.
Troy, I like your point about Michigan and the change of seasons – fellow (former) Michigander, here. One thing I loved about moving back to the Midwest from the southeast was a return to four, distinct seasons. “Bland and forgettable” does seem to sum up the gen2 Taurus, but I think it was still a good-looking design. Just not particularly memorable, especially compared to the first ones.