Two Fords Look BACK to the Future
The T-Bird and Bullitt Mustang

by Denise McCluggage

“Bullitt,” the movie, is supposed to be a guy thing and by extension the Bullitt Mustang, too. That’s what guys say. Gals know better and no few of them with $26,830 will be in line for this machine. (Do the blue; green is too obvious.) [Details on the Bullitt]

And now the Thunderbird.

They got it right, simple as that.

The 2002 Ford Thunderbird

First off, don’t let that word “retro” escape your lips. Little besides the name (and the precious port holes in the hard top) harks back to the original Thunderbird. Oh yes, the subtle “reverse wedge” shape evident in the side view. (No using this car for a doorstop.) That higher-in-front silhouette, designers say, was to evoke the relaxed, touring-time feel of the first car.

To me the original T-Bird seemed a bit brittle and edgy. The 2002 T-Bird is more like a licked ice cream cone. And as smooth and sweet. In appearance alone it has more presence, more tactile sense than any T-Bird ever.

Maybe the wrap-up word is “charm.”

The T-Bird is indeed charming and that’s not by chance. It is evident that a lot of chin-in-hand contemplation went into this car - a lot of care not to make it too slick, too continental, too non-American, too past, too future. They danced at the edge of the light.

Again, they got it right.

Ford had the good sense not to even whisper the word “sports car” around the first T-Bird. It was a “personal” car. Two seats, automatic transmission, power steering, power seats and even power windows if you wanted them. (We sports car drivers had plastic side curtains and a canvas flap to stick a cold hand out of to pay the toll. Of course we sneered at those other guys and their comfort.)

If the new T-Bird is “personal” then personal is about a foot longer than 1955. (But 7 plus inches shorter than the Lincoln LS, to which the T-Bird is closely related.) And “personal” in 2002 means a whole lot closer to a sports car than it ever has before. (Ignore completely those over-inflated years of the bloated T-Birds.)

Yes, the T-Bird is melted-chocolate smooth on good road surfaces. Isn’t that expected? It even tames the roughness of scabby pavement. But then, still dressed for the club, it zips around a tightening bend and aims for a late apex. Almost apologetic to be so good at this. Was that a little float there, a bit of body roll, a tiny push? Never mind. Inconsequential. And the esses are taken true and well and the next turn and the next winding to clouds draped in the trees and pitching down again in a coil and the Michelins hang in there and car feels balanced and collected. (I wanted to say to my driving companion: “This isn’t supposed to do this so well,” but I am dancing with the T-Bird, mute at the still point, delighted in my surprise.)

The 2002 T-bird with hard-top option

But isn’t it arrogant to be surprised? I have admired similar qualities in engine and handling in the Lincoln LS sedan, that close relative.

Flaws? Yes, I can find them. Not in the brakes, though, or the suspension. Maybe not enough low-end torque. Why not add a manual transmission to direct the 3.9 liter four-cam V-8? Easier to surf the torque curve that way. But then that’s not what the T-Bird is meant for. And the six-speed automatic is quite smooth at that. (CONTINUE...)