The ever-perceptive Mr. Klockau found this Fleetwood Talisman for sale in Amarillo. Those of you us listen to George Strait — that did not include your humble author until he met a country girl from New Mexico — will no doubt be reminded of the relevant song.
If you’re bored today, here are some links to my last Fleetwood Talisman adventure:
The review of the car itself is here; the story of my trip is here and then here. It’s become vaguely relevant as of late for two reasons. The first is that I just covered some of those roads again for the first time since those articles were written, in the course of writing a new story for a certain well-respected (and, just as often, well-disrespected) automotive magazine. The second is that I recently saw the lady who is the subject of these tales. We’ve both gone through some changes, as the old bluesmen might say, and we will never be what we once were to each other. Still. It’s nice to catch up, nice to see someone you have loved, nice to be above ground on a fine July day, seven years after the fact.