Singing a verse of “Sweet Edge of Time”. I can tell it’s a verse because the lovely backup singers are not singing. And I can tell it’s “Sweet Edge of Time” because I’ve got the capo way down the neck. That’s Chuck on the left, Justin’s foot, my brother John in the flannel checks, and Billy on banjo. Gosh, look at the shine on that old wooden floor. Thin-stripped maple. Covered in rusty-orange shag carpet when I bought the place. My friend Frank helped me sand it down. On page 150 of Truck: A Love Story I wrote about why I loved that floor so.