Dave, I’ve been taking advantage of your “Gleanings” catagory. Read some radical farmers (how can you altogether throw out science!) and checked in on the Professor which in turn spurred me to investigate James Booker, who I find the most tasty of the N.O. pianists I am familiar with. What a life! Run over by an ambulance, high school with Art Neville and Allen Toussaint, an eye out: an impossible life, impossible to live. He was a true medium, a broken reed through which any musical spirit could blow, from Bach to Fats Domino. As a teenager he went on the road doubling for box-bangers who didn’t like to tour or had been double booked. But of course he had as well his own grit, a jump-stepped prosidy hurried with before the beat accents follow by lagging downbeats, a sort of dancing in leg-irons. I’d never seen him and due to your example I did the twenty-five minute download of a You Tube, my first, while out doing chores and then enjoyed over breakfast and there he was smiled, eye-patched, swaying, for a moment incarnate. Thank you.