Tuning the Peg

Sunlight hit the glossy headstock of that giant acoustic guitar, and I wasn't about to stay on the flat cabinet top! I scrambled up the sloped rosewood neck, boots jamming between the steel frets like ladder rungs. Right at the top post, a fat chrome tuning peg jutted out like a stubborn ship's wheel. No hesitation! I hooked both elbows over the metallic wing, leaned my boots against the timber grain, and hauled back with a roaring grunt. SCREEECH-CLICK! The peg gave way a crisp quarter-turn, locking into a fresh, tight groove. Now that rig is locked into my key!