“You see these trees, they all look different.” J.B.
Jackson said, a Bogart-like figure in black motor-
cycle jacket, standing in front his Lower La Cienega
NM house. "They're all sycamore. Good in drought,"
he added in a merry erudite voice.

“It’s a fishing vest,” he said over a shoulder,
walking past me on a chilly Santa Barbara CA street.
“What?”
“You’re wearing a fishing vest, L.L.Beam.
You put it on, and takes the chill."
"But I don’t fish,” I said.
“Nor do I," he replied, without looking back.