Like I’ve said earlier, I live in a warehouse down in the business district not too far from the Little Brown River. I suppose you could call it one gigantic man cave hidden in a red-brick rambling building two stories high. Outwardly a dilapidated-looking old warehouse that appears to be on the verge of collapsing. But looks, as they say, can be deceiving. The ground floor of the building used to be an auto mechanics shop. It went out of business long ago. Now I use it to build and store my auto collection. The second floor I gutted and created a spacious semi-loft apartment. Built the place with my own hands. Hardwood floors, indirect lighting, with a wall that runs the entire length of the apartment that’s nothing but a wall of books. Rare books. First edition signed books. There’s also
