Once upon a time, there was a strange motel and restaurant set in Wisconsin. Built in the shape of a turkey (if viewed from the sky), it was aptly named "The Gobbler." Lore has it that a friend of mine was conceived in one of the rooms (well, that's the story...his parents definitely were Gobbler visitors, but there is no concrete evidence of conception...he likely just doesn't want to think about his own conception).
The Gobbler was a getaway spot of Midwestern dreams. The fine establishment had nooks and crannies like "The Passion Pit", purple rooms with carpeted walls, and a Pepto-colored rotating bar room. Full of faux stone, purple and pink vinyl furniture, plastic chairs, a Brady Bunch-style carport, purple-carpeted bending hallways, circular beds, and even an eye-shaped window, the Gobbler was a truly unique slice of life.
Sadly, the motel and its rooms of love are gone. It was purposely burned by the local fire dept. earlier this century (claiming the fire peeps needed to practice). Apparently people in the 21st century cannot appreciate mid-20th century architecture and beauty.