A sunny, warm summer day is a rare find in San Francisco and this one finds me and Carp quite literally drinking it down. We're in his bright orange, rusted-out pickup truck, there are three bottles of Jim Beam rolling around the floor, and we're doing slow leisurely laps around the city. The last time we pulled this trick, the day culminated in Carp falling out of a tree when we pulled over somewhere in Twin Peaks so I could take a piss.

When his daughter Lucy left for college, Marvin turned to his insects.

He dragged the green tin box labeled "BUGS" from the upper garage shelf, where it was sandwiched between an old Chinese checkers board and a decaying atlas, and eased himself onto the dusty floor with the corners balanced on his knees. He paused a moment before pulling open the latches on either side.