Blouson noir—c’est mon manteau d’hiver, epais, garde le chaud, garde contre le froid et le vent. Cuir noir, epais. The leather itself is heavy ; but adding in a camera, then a little, tiny flashlight, then some keys in the pocket, and then a Sig und Sohn Model A-H .32 cal. that weighs a couple of pounds, with eight rounds, another half pound? quarter? It is a weighty coat. People would not believe the weight I carry around when I have my coat on. Maybe ten pounds. It feels like my heart has put on my leather jacket. So I found myself alone, and I put on FAMINE: Remembrance, into the player and turn up the volume where it ought to be: not worrying this time about infringing, bothering—playing it like it needs to be heard. For me, that makes the heaviness a bit more bearable. Perhaps because the music is heavier than my heart. Perhaps because the music soaks up the heaviness and neutralizes it. Something light-hearted and gay would not do. I need the heavy and somber tones of Cassidy’s Remembrance, requiem, to palliate the somber shades of my heavy heart. Perhaps the commiserating strains give a hand to the oar the galley slaves pull to their chest and push away, over and over again.