The quintessential Guitar Whitey, in uniform.  This was mid-afternoon and Whitey is eating a cheese Danish he purchased early that morning in downtown Weed. He had another in his pocket which he offered to me. He did not eat much on the road. He had his first Danish for breakfast. Whitey, on the road, always dressed simply and his clothes were always loose.  He looked like he was ready to catch the next train south. (And no, the bottle on the table just happened to be there.)

That is not a frown.  It is intensity.  Whitey, and a long time fellow Hobo, are listening to a concert of old recordings of Hobo-themed songs from the Depression-era compiled by xxx  xxx.