A hotel, circa 1920.

Originally a motorist was lucky to stumble upon a cabin with a bed, but increasingly cabins were adorned with doilies, lamps, and framed pictures. Many jumped at the idea of making a quick buck on the tourist trade. One could be self-employed and simply rent a cabin room. Motorists were excited by the idea of real western gentlemanly hospitality. The cabin was easily accessed and free of tipping, formalities, and other hotel snobberies. Many hard-pressed farmers jumped at the idea of renting out cottages that could be easily framed and built. The mass production of goods was sparked too. Advertisers let their name be plastered all over a roadside dwelling. For the weary traveler a "brand name you can trust" was more attractive than an empty-looking cottage. Boorstin describes the national spread of consumable goods as a making of a "consumption community".

Standard Oil ensures it will stay in business.

Entrepreneurs envisioned more accomodations that they felt consumers would be willing to pay for. Indoor pumbling, stucco walls, kitchenettes, refridgerators, sofas, and dinettes were added. The cabin would cost about $150 to $300 to build while the "motor hotel" could cost over $1,000. The first credited motel was built by entrepreneur James Vail in San Luis Obispo, California, Motel Inn. It was very much like a hotel, but accomodated the automobile. Oil companies envisioned national chains of "auto-havens" or "motor inns". By 1930 the scaffolding necessary for the Holiday Inn style was erected. These motels or tourist homes threatened the livelihood of both motels and camps. The motel and home decorating industries were quickly married, manifest in wall-to-wall carpeting, upholstery, televisions, air conditioning, and Scandanavian furniture.

A Hacienda in Florida, 1929.

The motel embraced a very particular architectural style. Although the "strenuous life" poison may have been squeezed out of the motorists, the romance of the west remained. The colonial style was hugely important; the Victorian styles were mere eyesores. Signs used words such as "olde" and "ye" to suggest that they emrbaced that old-fashioned hospitality the motorist desired. Silhouettes of covered wagons littered storefronts and visitor centers. Gasoline stations looked like Tudor cottages or Spanish missions. This period of historical renovation proved to be sustainable with examples such as Williamsburg. Some hotels, for fear of appearing too Victorian or too close to conspicuous consumption, would only change the bedclothes once a week; many times the weary traveler would sleep in a dirty bed. This age of motorists wanted a lot of atmosphere with a handful of accomodations.

The 1930s marked a different attitude for the automobile. Whereas in the days of autocamping, the traveler would simply throw a tent over the car and stay out all night, the modern traveler had more respect for the finish of the car. The polish and shine of the automobile meant a lot more. "Pardon My Dust" long past extinction, the newer, cleaner look was desired. The difference perhaps was the change in psychic income derived from the car. In the day when the Model T was king, all cars were black and muddy. However, in Sloanian America, consumers gained the sovereignty they never knew they deserved. The ability to choose made a huge impact on the market. The supply-centered market switched drastically to a consumer-centered one. Demand decided production, not a company manager's choice. A different color or style of car was a piece of adornment that described the personality of the driver. The change of ideals perhaps led up to another addition for the motor camps, the garage.

A gas station advertising a Ladies Restroom, 1930.

The traveler tired of the mediocre food at rest stops and the pretentiousness of hotel food. Hotels not only had dress codes for dining and specific hours, but also made it difficult to pronounce names of entrees employing French or Italian words. Both extremes were a mockery of the middle class. Eventually restaurants found a medium of predictable foods with predictable tastes. Because of pressure put on by motorists and by innovations of entrepreneurs the food became unified. The traveler did not want to feel like an immigrant in a foreign land at dinner and refused to assimilate to new tastes overnight. Eventually restaurants caught on and where they didn't, a chain restaurant appeared. Roadside cafes informally served predictable food.

A cafe in Newark, 1920.

What made Howard Johnson a success was his ability to incorporate the visions of the romantic wanderer with the realistic wants and needs of the motorist. He secured efficiency by eliminating variables and incorporating standards nationwide. The traveler, no matter where he should land, would experience the predictability and uniformity as anywhere else. He made sufficient accomodations for the middle class American family including its newest member, the automobile. His colonial churchstyle motor lodges were at hit with the nostalgic Americans too. The architecture style is not from any one place but a melting pot of simulcra that triggered the "old-fashioned comfort" within the Americans. He combined the New England with the Virginian and added a little frontier for the perfect recipe for the inn. For more on Howard Johnson's read Belasco.

One of the original Howard Johnson Motels, Maryland, 1942.