I'm holed up at Dunn Bros. brewing my notes over the aroma of a well roasted cup of Brazillian. I'll swing by the house in a bit and pick up Jackson and his fellow filmmaker, Nick. They're riding with me out to Pleasant Hill to keep me honest in case I tell a family story.
I both love and am driven crazy by this coffee shop. I like that it's close to the house. I love the coffee. The decor works, kind of. The soundtrack, however, remains horrible. I'm cranking Luke Hendrickson on the iPod, as much to drowned out the coffee shop sound system as to enjoy Luke Hendrickson. Luke, if I make any sense whatsoever this morning, the people of Pleasant Hill owe you a big one.