Spike called me into meet him, which is what real artists know to do when they want to incorporate another’s work. I was happy to give him permission but could only thank him quietly as it was early in the morning and I had a hangover, complete with drymouth, but couldn’t get a drink in Spike’s office because all Spike’s fountains had “Coloreds Only” signs over them. I leave it up to you what kind of a sicko won’t let a man drink from a water fountain due to the color of his skin. There ought to be a law.