You have to wonder about a world in which people are herded up like cattle and taken to ovens; a world in which a group of people was sold into slavery; a world in which there is so much suffering. From death, disease, and addictions.
All that being said: I came across this article today in the AJC fishwrapper. Reminds me of a time long gone. Long before phrases like "moving forward," "modules of training," and "engaged" dotted the landscapes of business. It's all so homogenous these days. And, for that, I am sad. The following article reminds me of my early life in the 50's and 60's and 70's.
Last month, Holiday Inn announced it is phasing out its motor lodges —- they're called "exterior corridor" designs in the trade. Some corporate type, with the title of "vice president for worldwide brand management," justified the decision thusly: "These hotels are usually considered old. Consumers say they do not match up to expectations."
Braves on TBS, old-style hotel made life seem better
By Mike King
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 10/04/07
I rise today to testify on behalf of two bygone institutions: the classic Holiday Inn motor lodge, and Braves baseball on TBS.
"Can we stay there?"
When we were young children, my mother would load the three of us kids every summer into the family car and make a 1,000-mile trip from southern Indiana to her hometown of Galveston, Texas. The trip, at least in the days before the interstate highway system was completed, required an overnight stay.
Along the way we'd pass interesting places like the Wigwam Village, a motel in Kentucky where all the units looked like teepees, or the Alamo Plaza Hotel Courts in Memphis, where the units were shaped like the famous Texas landmark.
"Please, mom, let's stay there," we'd beg. No dice.
We almost always wound up in one of those roadside motor courts, nondescript places where each unit had a kitchenette (really just a glorified hot plate and an old Norge) and a window-unit air conditioner that usually didn't work. No TV and certainly no swimming pool. Basic lodging. Cheap.
But one year, making our way through Texarkana, Texas, on U.S. 59, we saw a green and gold sign with synchronized blinking lights and a bright white star pointing to something called a Holiday Inn. There was a restaurant attached to the motel. And a swimming pool, with a diving board, and an underwater light that just beckoned you to jump in, if you were lucky enough to stay there.
We didn't stay there that year, but on another trip, Dad came with us. About Little Rock we began making a strong, persistent case —- basically we whined —- pleading to stay at the Holiday Inn we knew was down the road in Texarkana. He relented.
We ate a glorious, sit-down meal at the restaurant and our parents went back to the air-conditioned room to watch TV, where they quickly fell asleep. We headed for the pool. About 11:30 p.m. my parents were awakened by a call from the front desk asking them to please go to the pool and retrieve their children.
My dad still loves to tell that story.
Last month, Holiday Inn announced it is phasing out its motor lodges —- they're called "exterior corridor" designs in the trade. Some corporate type, with the title of "vice president for worldwide brand management," justified the decision thusly: "These hotels are usually considered old. Consumers say they do not match up to expectations."
Cable comes to Indiana
In the mid-1970s, cable television arrived in our small Indiana hometown, and I bought my parents a six-month subscription. (I was living across the river, in cable-deprived Louisville, Ky.) The local cable company included two independent channels as part of its package: WTBS from Atlanta and WTTV out of Indianapolis and Bloomington.
WTBS had the Braves, which were about to become America's team because of their presence on cable systems nationwide. WTTV had Indiana University basketball —- every game, home and away, during the Bobby Knight-before-he-was-crazy era.
The affinity for the Braves grew so strong that when they played at Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati against the Reds, we'd organize day trips to see them. And when we moved their grandchildren here 20 years ago, the first place my parents wanted to go with them was to Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium to see the Braves. Many Sunday afternoons since he's been unable to travel, I've called my father to see if he was watching the game on TBS. Now, with TBS going out of the Braves business, he'll see fewer still. Until basketball season starts, we'll have to find other topics in our Sunday talks.
I know. I know. The world, and consumer expectations, are different now. But there were times —- as kids at the Holiday Inn pool or as adults with our parents in front of the TV watching the Braves —- when the world was pretty darn good and may have actually exceeded our expectations without us ever knowing it.
> Mike King is a member of the editorial board. His column appears Thursdays.
P.S. Hoots, I've been a little lazy these days, but I will take your suggestion to heart.... in the next foray.
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