Spotted on the street near my house the other night. It’s a fourth generation Plymouth Fury, made some time between 1965 and ’68 – I’m nowhere near car-geeky enough to tell you precisely when. T
he name of this car probably wrote cheques its ass couldn’t cash, but I still think it look fabulous, especially in the silver paint under street lights.
It’s like the opening chord of a Bruce Springsteen song – if Springsteen songs were anywhere near as good as his fans presume them to be.
