Our view: 2002 Ford Thunderbird

Somewhere P.T. Barnum, or a PT Cruiser for that matter, is letting out a hearty roar.

Got a car that’s hardly bounding up the sales charts but has a rich history filled with ’50s nostalgia, more than 15 facelifts and a name as recognizable as the company itself?

Kill it off for four years, then revive it with “relaxed sportiness,” old-time style and a melding of parts taken from a Jaguar to a Lincoln. Keep the name. Radically change the design. Then limit production.

Poof! Instant karma. Or instant cash.

Just like the PT Cruiser craze of 2000, finding and owning Ford’s all-new, all-hysteria Thunderbird is kind of like stumbling across the Lost Ark. Not even Indiana Jones could find the keys to this two-seat retro roadster.

Don’t believe us? Ask Ford, which, as of last week, warned its dealers to beware of brokers who are buying, then reselling, the 2002 Thunderbirds to the highest bidders. Any dealer caught dishing one of these $39,000 cars off to, say, an Internet shop (which then resells the ‘Bird for 50k) and the automaker will cut off supply.

Ouch.

I guess it’s the price you pay when nostalgia comes wrapped in either Evening Black, Whisper White, Torch Red, Inspiration Yellow and – for this year only – “Thunderbird Blue.”

Or when 200 special-edition ’02 T-Birds are sold through the Neiman Marcus catalog – and in two hours they’re all gone. (And you thought Super Bowl tickets were tough to get.)

What’s not hard to figure is the phenomena, especially after a few spins. Put simply, the new Thunderbird is a chip off the old block, but with a better foundation. It’s a remake of a good thing, without some of the bad habits that have haunted the T-Bird throughout its 46-year history.

And, remember, this is a car with a pretty heady past.

In 1955-57, the first years of the T-Bird, it actually outsold the Corvette by four to one. Then Ford added a back seat and proceeded to chase down consumer whim all the way to the point of adding fake leather straps on the T-Birds’ trunk in the late ’70s. By the ’90s it was time to go. Thankfully, it’s back, and it’s better – a car more akin to the original than any of the four million sold since.

So what’s with all the fuss? Partly it’s good memories. Partly it’s smart engineering.

In its most basic form, the T-Bird is a reskinned rear-drive luxury version of a Lincoln LS and Jaguar S-Type, with 60 percent shared content from other vehicles. Although softened up and toned down, the drivetrain and suspension are borrowed from the Jag and LS and the LS has even thrown in its V8 engine and dash setup to boot.

But on a more complex level, the T-Bird is like a cruise down memory lane – albeit with a car-load of extravagance. It’s a bird of many distinct feathers. The rounded, hooded headlights and “afterburner” tail lamps evoke images of Poodle skirts and early Elvis, as do the porthole windows (1956), an egg-crate Ferrar i-like grille (’55), a hood scoop, generous helpings of chrome and the winged Thunderbird badge on a sloping rear end (’60s). Then there’s the original feel of whimsical colors and materials, including a two-tone interior, the option for a completely jazzed-up color scheme with colored seats, steering wheel and shift knob as well as white gauges with turquoise pointers.

Size, too, feels more ’50s.

For starters, there’s so much of it.

Although similar inside to the front-end dimensions of a Ford Focus, from behind the wheel, the Thunderbird seems ready to set sail. The bow stretches out some eight feet; the stern measures better than seven feet. All combined, it’s a package worth the cruise – or better suited for Cruise Night.

This is not a car to hide in. Plunked down in traffic, the T-Bird screams, “I’m over HERE!” without ever saying a word.

On the pedal, it doesn’t need to scream. In the tradition of the two-seat ’50s models, the T-Bird’s driving ers are more akin to those of a balanced touring car. Mated to a five-speed automatic (only) transmission, the V8 engine is a traditional T-Bird feature and the 3.9-liter, 32-valve DOHC provides the kind of horsepower (252 with 262 foot-pounds of torque) we enjoyed from the LS – enough to get you going, but not a burner.

With an unequal-length control-arm front and rear suspension, the ride is a mix of the Jag/Lincoln tradition – stable, except for extreme bruises in the road which send a shudder – and with 17-inch tires for added stability on a 107-inch wheelbase.

But it still manages to roll a bit in tight corners and pitches noticeably under acceleration and heavy braking.

Gas mileage is a very un-’50s-like 17 miles per gallon in the city and 23 on the highway.

Inside, it is that blend of old and new. Some of the original T-Birds didn’t even have seat belts, but the new ones feature standard front and side air bags, anti-lock brakes and traction control ($230) that is standard on the premium model and optional on the base.

Head room isn’t abundant (a 5-foot-10 passenger clunked his head twice), which only magnifies the fact it’s an interesting mix of unusual space: a portly 3,883 pounds at weigh-in (with the 83-pound optional hardtop on), but not much trunk room – Ford says about enough for “two golf bags,” which may say more about the target audience.

So does pricing. Ford’s done well keeping the bottom line at $35,495 in the base, cloth-top model, all the way to $39,795 in a fully-loaded removable hard top (that requires two big guys to remove), which Ford hopes should draw a mix of drivers that includes collector types, men and women.

But Ford has produced only 3,000 of the 25,000 total Birds it will make this year.

A warning: Catch them while you can (afford one).