What pops into your mind when you think of Mercury? Maybe it’s the fabulous Cougar Trans-Am team of 1967 prepared by Bud Moore with iconic drivers Dan Gurney and Parnelli Jones. They came close to stealing the title from Shelby’s Mustangs. Or perhaps it’s the stunning Turnpike Cruiser of 1957 and ’58, one of the most spectacular manifestations of the boldly baroque era of American car design.

It could be the 1964 Comet, a mini-fleet of which averaged more than 105 miles per hour for 100,000 miles at Daytona to set a staggering array of international speed records. I can still hear the catchy theme tune of the commercials.

You might have a soft spot for the jaunty Capri coupe, a popular import from Germany in the early 1970s. Or your mind’s eye might picture the 1949-51 Mercury, favorite of the leadsled customizers and the wheels of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause.

Memorable could be the Breezeway models of 1963-66, with their reverse-slope rear windows opening electrically. They were Mercury’s bid to create a feature as vivid and promotable as Pontiac’s envied Wide Track.

Then there’s Troy Ruttman’s fantastic finish behind two Ferraris and a Chrysler in the 1951 Mexican Road Race, in the 1948 Mercury coupe he bought from a used-car lot for $1000 and Clay Smith prepared for another $2500. They won more than $11,000!

Mention of the M word could even bring to mind the special booklet, “A More Enlightened Approach,” that I wrote for the launch of the 1984 Topaz, first car to be identified by the waterfall-M emblem that Mercurys still carry. It was the last job I did during my duty tour for the Blue Oval.

Or, you may have only a vague notion of what Mercury stands for. The Ford brand’s latest strap line—“New Doors Opened”—doesn’t exactly pinpoint the reason why you should besiege the showroom of your nearest Mercury dealer.

Plenty of folks still have the same impression of Mercury that road tester supreme Tom McCahill expressed sixty years ago, calling it “the Ford that Ford would have built if there hadn’t been such a thing as price competition.” In fact, this was the background story to the 1949 Mercury. It was designed to be the ’49 Ford, but was kicked upstairs to Mercury when it proved too costly to carry the Blue Oval.

Since 1939, when the brand was created by Edsel Ford to fill the price gap between Ford and Lincoln, Mercury has struggled to differentiate itself clearly and effectively. With more power than the Ford and a little more weight, it had an early reputation for performance. As the aforementioned examples illustrate, this remained an important strand of Mercury’s DNA, but it hasn’t been prominent in the latest generations.

Style, too, has been a Mercury trait. When he was styling boss in Dearborn, Gene Bordinat didn’t hesitate to endow Mercurys with some of the Rolls-Royce features he used to give his Lincolns a touch of class. Gene’s theory—and not a bad one—was that with fewer cars on the road than his rivals, he gained more impact with car buyers by sharing certain identity features among his brands.

With its hidden headlamps and hot XR-7 version, the original 1967-68 Mercury Cougar oozed sassy style. Though it was too soon denatured by the application of its name to lesser machinery, Cougar gave Mercury the prowling cat that became a symbol of the brand in ads and at dealerships. When Ford’s brass tried to kill the Cougar, the division’s general manager Ben Bidwell had an answer ready: “How can you run a cat house without a cat?” Today’s Mercury could do with some of that chutzpah.

Mercury is topical because it’s one of the problems (challenges?) facing the new Ford Motor Company under Alan Mulally. In 1977-79, 1984-86, and again in 1988, Mercury sold more than half a million units a year. Mercury and Dodge were running neck-and-neck as strong brands in the market’s midfield. Now, taking cars alone, Mercury has less than half of Dodge’s volume. Including trucks, Dodge is more than five times as big. Total 2006 sales of 180,828 units is Mercury’s lowest point since 1959.

There’s no shortage of advice for Mercury. Some commentators say it should become Ford’s importer of European cars. Lincoln Mercury dealers have tried that—remember not only the Pantera and Capri but also the Merkur?—but the negative economics of Europe’s high costs and currencies weigh against it. A while back my idea was that Mercury should become Ford’s export brand to Europe. In fact, that might still work. I’d like to be driving a Mariner Hybrid on the east side of the Atlantic.

At the Windy City in February a breath of fresh air was the decision to rename the Montego “Sable.” With both dealers and the public, this will trade on the huge brand equity built up by one of the most popular Mercurys of the past. Let’s hope similar Mulally-brewed medicine is being prescribed for the Milan, not at all a compelling name for what looks like a very nice car. Could there be much wrong with “Topaz”?

A better-known name has to resonate more with the marketplace than the Zen-like attributes that are being promoted for Mercury by brand manager Kim Irwin. “Today’s Mercury brand is for those who prefer to do things a little differently rather than following the crowd,” claims Irwin. “We’re attracting a new generation of customers not only by building great products with distinctive style, but also by connecting with them one-on-one and building relationships.” Irwin is relying heavily on the Internet for “connecting,” although her latest website, drivezen.com, doesn’t seem to be doing anything special.

I’d like to see Mercury become a cat house again. Somewhere in its global product plan, Ford should be able to find a Cougar with some teeth to restore visceral excitement to the Mercury brand. There’s a platform that seems to be working, called Mustang. Giving Mercury its own upscale version of that platform would convince both dealers and the public that Ford is serious about saving this beleaguered brand. I’m sure Kim Irwin has asked for it and Peter Horbury has designed it. Let’s push the button and build it!