Curbside Musings: 2002 Ford Thunderbird – Selling Things

2002 Ford Thunderbird. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 16, 2024.

It has occurred to me lately that each of my new acquisitions of a diecast scale model has been of a car or truck that has personal significance to me.  There have been a handful of exceptions to this, where the combination of low price, condition, detail, and quality of the model had led me to where I couldn’t not make a purchase.  For the most part, though, my miniaturized fantasy garage has continued to expand with small representations of vehicles I had once dreamed of owning, driven, fawned over, or had identified with on some level.  I was thrilled to find a beautiful example of an eleventh-generation Ford Thunderbird roadster, complete with two tonneau covers and a removable hardtop, for sale online for what turned out to be a steal.

1:18-scale 1999 Ford Thunderbird concept, by Maisto.

Included as part of the transaction was an invoice dated November 23, 1999 from Heflin Ford-Mercury, Inc., of Heflin, Alabama, which documented a final sale price for this model of $37.40 including tax, which translates to almost exactly twice as much in 2025.  My 1:18-scale Thunderbird by Maisto had cost me about $26.50 all-up, including tax and shipping.  It’s in that almost-iconic canary yellow (officially called “Inspiration Yellow” by Ford) that so many of them were painted.  Being able to examine the shrunken details of this Thunderbird up close, combined with seeing the date on that invoice, took me right back to when these beautiful cars were on the cusp of being released for sale.

At the dawn of the new millennium, I was working at my second, post-college desk job as a government assistance benefits card claims investigator with a large financial firm.  To clarify, though, I wasn’t actually employed by this company, but by a temporary employment agency as were probably close to 95% of my co-workers who weren’t in management.  Some of my coworkers had been there for years and were still temps, hoping for the day when the company would finally start the permanent hiring process with which would come things like actual tenure and health benefits.  Morale there was predictably lousy, especially on a day when we would witness one of us being let go without any advanced notice – which the company could do, since we were all temps.

2002 Ford Thunderbird. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 16, 2024.

I was in my mid-20s and sensed that my career opportunities at this place had very limited prospects, so I decided to take my destiny into my own hands and search for something else outside of what my employment agency had to offer.  I searched the classified ads in my own time and came across what looked like the dream job for my young adult self: car salesman!  I spoke articulately, was college-educated, had good posture, and cleaned up very nicely.

I had run through a mental checklist: I’ve always loved cars, I had owned two Fords by that point (three, if one counts the ’84 Tempo I had inherited from my parents), I could drive a stick-shift, and I had all the enthusiasm in the world.  The interview would be with Bill Currie Ford, which is still in business in the greater Tampa Bay area.  This was also at the time when the 1999 Thunderbird concept had already circulated and generated what seemed like enormous amounts of buzz, almost uniformly positive.

2002 Ford Thunderbird print ad, as sourced from the internet.

Prior to the interview and in my mind, I had envisioned that my daily life would consist of dazzling customers with my good looks, witty banter, and charm, moving these Thunderbird roadsters off the showroom floor, and earning huge commissions in the process with martinis to follow at Chili’s afterward.  In an era before internet research had become as easy as a few keystrokes or finger-swipes on a smartphone, it’s hilarious now to think about how my fantasy and the reality not only didn’t meet in the middle, but were on entirely separate planes.  I may have been naive in terms of what it actually takes to be a successful car salesperson, but I’m giving the younger me credit for not psyching myself out of at least believing in that dream for five or ten minutes and taking steps to go for it.

2002 Ford Thunderbird. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 16, 2024.

I honestly don’t remember much about the interview itself, which is strange because: a.) It was in the middle of the day during my lunch hour; b.) I pride myself on my ability to recall things, even when I sometimes slightly misremember an exact detail or two.  I have a memory like an elephant, which can be both a blessing and a curse.  What I do remember about that time at Bill Currie Ford was being immediately shocked and surprised that the Sales Associate position that had been advertised would be at their second-tier section of their used car lot, and the terms of the job might have even been probationary and contingent upon initial performance.  I also remember saying something along the lines that I would sure love to sell one of those new Thunderbirds when they finally roll out.

2002 Ford Thunderbird. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 16, 2024.

I’m sure my mustachioed interviewer could barely suppress a laugh at that one, or at least that’s how it felt.  We often remember our emotional reactions even in moments when we can’t recall exact words or actions.  Selling is hard work, and I get it.  Vehicles are a major purchase, and it takes development of a certain skill set to succeed at this.  I have done a lot of selling in my quarter-century-plus insurance career.  Even if I’m in underwriting and not in sales, part of my job is to influence my agency partners to convince potential clients to go with my company’s products and services in which I do actually strongly believe.

2002 Ford Thunderbird. Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Thursday, May 16, 2024.

Ultimately, my thought process that day at Currie Ford must have been something like the old adage, “better the devil you know than the devil you don’t,” so it was immediately and unceremoniously back to adjusting EBT claims right after that interview.  It wasn’t long afterward that I left that organization and pivoted back to insurance, where my skill set, both inherent and developed, have served me very well.

One might think that my feelings of shame and inadequacy during that dealership interview might have soured my feelings toward the 2002 Thunderbird, if only by association.  However, the sight of any example of the final T-Bird still excites me and takes me back to a time in my young adulthood half my life ago when I had believed in my abilities enough to go for what I had thought would be my dream job.  This is why the last Thunderbird will always have a place in my fantasy garage.

Downtown, The Loop, Chicago, Illinois.
Thursday, May 16, 2024.