Welcome, O Traveller. You have come a long way. You have grown weary of interchangeable motels, franchise banalities, continentental breakfasts that barely evoke a county, let alone the vast majestic expanse of this land. Welcome. In the timeless ways of the tribe of Bloomington, we bid you enter – and offer you the bounty and delights that are the Thunderbird Motel.
James Lileks takes us on a delighful tour of the Thunderbird, where Margie and I and her family stayed on our journey a few summers ago to upstate Wisconsin and other Kleerups.
While he leaves off the very odd conference room Margie and I slept in, the unabashed un-PCness of this particular bit of lodgings is almost refreshing in its bad taste.
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