This is an anecdote about two ordinary Los Angeles couples. T and his wife were dealing H out of their Hollywood apartment. J and his wife were regular customers.

I was at T’s place one evening and the J family was there. I’d met them several times before. They were nice folks. He had a goatee and was a big guy and she was blonde, pleasant-looking and only a pound or two over her ideal BMI. Neither looked in any way vulgar or trashy. It’s unfortunate that I can’t recall what we were talking about — people do actually converse in these situations — but I do know J wanted some H and had insufficient $ to pay for it.

Although you could literally buy a house under the Hollywood Land sign on credit, you could not get a quarter bag as easily. This is where I got a surprise on the human behavior level. I’ve always thought that working in a bar, especially seeing everyone there from the height of a raised stage, gave a unique psychological point of view.

Forgive the digression, but a tiny bar gig anecdote comes to mind. We were playing in a club one night and a bunch of bikers came in. About an hour later, there was the pretty much inevitable bar fight, with at least 5 major boxing, kicking and head-butting events taking place at once on the dance floor. At one point a mic stand got slammed into the bass players face and one of the two guys in front of him, who was being choked at the time, squeezed out “Sorry!” before dancing away with his partner in strangulation. Unforgettable vignette! Possibly explains my great enjoyment of Sons of Anarchy. I’ve already said, it’s The Sopranos on motorcycles and it rings true to life.

Back to the J family. So they didn’t have $25, but Mrs. J made a few phone calls and was able to set up an “appointment” at a nearby motel. I thought maybe she was a hairdresser. While I talked to J within 50 yards of the sleazy motel room door (Don’t ask me what I was doing with them or what could we have been discussing at that moment) Mrs. met a guy in the parking lot and led him upstairs. I do remember J saying we needed to stop talking for a few minutes because it would “spook the John”. I swear those were his exact words. So picture me standing with J in sight of a motel room where his wife was doing someone for money. J was not just calm, but totally indifferent, cheerful even, as if his wife were dropping off some laundry, which was about the amount of time that we passed together in silence. I guess there wasn’t much of a line. When she joined us again, I almost expected her to be holding a receipt so strong was the “business as usual” vibe.

I’ve quoted the Dalai Lama in the past who said that one distinct characteristic of prostitution is the mutual lack of respect. Isaac Bashevis Singer once wrote [something like] “Who knows what goes on in another man’s head?”, a line, I think, from the Magician of Lublin. Indeed, who knows what J was thinking.

I hope it has occurred to anyone who considers themselves human that a person can be driven to do unimaginably difficult and sometimes horribly damaging things by necessity, whether they create it themselves by being addicted to a drug or whether they just happened to be born in a place so hopeless, they will throw their children into the sea from a boat if this can obtain a better life. You shouldn’t need to walk a mile in anyone’s shoes to feel these things if you have a heart and a modicum of soul.

What the world needs now isn’t so much “love, sweet love” but empathy and respect.