The dog days of summer are here a little early, it seems to me, so I repaired to The Crossroads this morning and found the perfect reading nook at Thou Mayest to finish The King of King's County, by Whitney Terrell.
If there were a service that offered a bulk rate to send a book to 100 of your friends and family, this would be one of those books. I don't know if I actually have a hundred friends and family but I would invent 50 or 60 if necessary. My brother sent it to me in the mail after I sent him The Huntsman a few years back. Since there isn't such a service, I will have to do that one at a time, which is more fun.
After that I felt the breakfast burrito I'd had earlier was pitifully small, so I grabbed the streetcar up to the River Market.
Then I chilled out with the first episode of Bosch, where I found as good a motto as any, in this shot.
Later I changed out the discolored old guitar strings on my Takamine and had to scrape a decade of gunk off the fretboard, cleaning it up with Formula 409, an angle grinder, bead-blasting, chemical bath, high-pressure washing, blasting caps, leeches, and elbow grease. It was really gross.
