There's something I heard 'bout white white folks that bothers me, and it has to do with fishin . . . I heard that when white folks go fishin they do somethin called 'catch and release' . . . That really bothers me, I just can't figure it out. 'Cause when colored folks go fishin, we really proud of what we catch, and we take it and show it off to everybody that'll look. Then we eat what we catch - in other words, we use it sustain us. So it really bothers me that white folks would go to tall the trouble to catch a fish, then when they done caught it, just throw it back in the water . . . Bein a friend is a heavy commitment. In a way, even more than a husband or a wife. And I was selfish. I could take care a' myself, and I didn't need nobody else's baggage. Besides that, friendship to me means more than just somebody to talk to, or run with, or hang with. Being friends is like being soldiers in an army . . . But then I got to thinkin about it some more and thought maybe we might have somethin to offer each other. I could be his friend in a different way than he could be my friend. But that's an even swap still, straight down the line.

from A Same Kind of Different as Me, Ron Hall & Denver Moore, a love story of a lost do-gooding rich guy and a found homeless musician, given to me by Rick, TJ's piano teacher, who said he knew these people once upon a time and upon reflection on the narrative, I'm pretty certain he means from the homeless side of the tracks. That explains the slightly jumpy, post-AA cigarette smoking way he has, as well as the backlessness of his stare and his interest in my religious studies (i.e. he's clearly born again some kinda way). I can't tell yet what more it might mean

"Don't Take Your Love from Me," Ike Quebec, tenor sax; Grant Green, guitar; Paul Chambers, bass; Philly Joe Jones, drums