Velociworld

THE FABULOUS THUNDERBIRD

Here's a picture of the Thunderbird Beach Resort's neon sign in St. Petersburg, Florida. I was staying next door, and it got me to thinking: What's the deal with Thunderbirds? I mean, there's a franchise that went awry early on. I suppose it was the fact there are numerous Thunderbirds not associated with the chain, it being a generic name, and poor management. Most of the T-birds are crap now. The one in Savannah is a flop house on hourly rates. The one in Daytona is okay, as I recall, but it's been a few years since I was there. This one was an exquisite example of postwar blue collar Florida vacation leisure, where a Detroit tire-thumper could take his family for the trip of their lives in 1960 Amerikkka. This baby still thrives in all its original glory. Greek columns, shiny tile floors, this place has been as lovingly restored as a '53 Corvette. Not a piece of trash or a cigarette butt anywhere. It has a fucking martini bar! The Bilmar next door was the same way.

Who started the 'Birds? I can't find out anything. You call one and the manager says "It was here when I was born, and that's good enough for me." But not for me. Because the T-birds represent an American success story gone horribly wrong. I sense loss of franchise control, poor accounting practices, and probably incest, polyamory, and torsos buried in the sand.

Got a Thunderbird in your town? Tell me about it. Especially if there's an old geezer around who can tell you how that particular edition of the American dream went stark raving mad.