Tuesday morning, I woke up without Karrie, for the second consecutive morning. It was a day of packing, deciding what to leave in or out, and watching the clock, so as to be sure not to miss the "nonrefundable" bus trip.
I wanted to leave enough for her so, that upon her release from jail, she could retrieve it. I also wanted to bring a lot of her stuff with me so that, upon her release, she might meet up with me wherever I was and I would have enough of her precious possessions (lotions and potions) for her.
I wound up packing about as much as I could carry.
I got to the Greyhound early, because I was worried about the fact that Karrie's name was on the ticket. If they didn't let me ride in her place, and there were no more buses out of downtown, then I would be thrown to the wolves, with all of our possessions and no way out of the ghetto, burdened by the weight of it all and unable to outrun the inevitable thugs.
I took the next to the last bus, in case this was to be the case.
The bus station cop assured me that it didn't matter what name was on the ticket. I waited 5 hours and read "The Carpetbaggers," by Harold Robbins.
I slept as well as I could on the bus ride.
I Get To Ocala
We got to Ocala. It looked like a bleak, barren wasteland. Ramshackle hovels, huddling in rows, looking like they were embarrassed, upon lots barren of plant life, except for the types considered "weeds" by horticulturalists and gardeners alike. Rusty, neglected items adorned the properties. We drove by a labor pool where a handful of worthies skulked about with their postures in attitudes which told the observer "...ain't nothin' happenin' today..."
A Harbinger Portending GloomThere was a girl sitting on the bench out in front of the bus station, which turned out to be directly across the street from the same labor pool. She had a
wooden crucifix hanging from her neck, and she appeared to be pregnant. She said that she had just found out that she had lost the baby in her womb. Her boyfriend didn't seem to care, and "just kept on playing his video game" after hearing the news. She said that she had lived her whole life in Ocala and was desperately trying to leave. "Let me put it to you bluntly; Ocala sucks!" She added that there was no work here, no way to make money here, and that drugs and slothfulness are the order of the place; "everyone" being on Unemployment, food stamps etc.
She was helpful in pointing me towards the Salvation Army, and a couple of soup kitchens, as well as giving me their general schedules. She told me where to obtain hygiene products, in response to a question which I asked on behalf of Karrie.I decided to go and find my friend John, to see about a job.
I Almost Find John
I got on a bus and rode out to the College Road Dominos, thinking that this was where John worked. The bus ride was long. I had 50 pounds of freight, and had to walk with it about one mile to the store, where I was told that John used to work there "four years ago," but now worked at the Maricamp Road store. Could I walk there, carrying 50 pounds? He said that it was a 30 minute drive.
I walked the mile back to the bus stop, having adjusted the load, so that it balanced upon me much better. Karrie's pack on my back, guitar on the right shoulder, and my pack on the left shoulder, with the tent across the back of my shoulders, like a yoke on a mule. The tent kept my backpack from falling off of the left shoulder. As I began to peel jackets and shirts off, I used them as padding, under each shoulder strap.
I wanted to leave enough for her so, that upon her release from jail, she could retrieve it. I also wanted to bring a lot of her stuff with me so that, upon her release, she might meet up with me wherever I was and I would have enough of her precious possessions (lotions and potions) for her.
I wound up packing about as much as I could carry.
I got to the Greyhound early, because I was worried about the fact that Karrie's name was on the ticket. If they didn't let me ride in her place, and there were no more buses out of downtown, then I would be thrown to the wolves, with all of our possessions and no way out of the ghetto, burdened by the weight of it all and unable to outrun the inevitable thugs.
I took the next to the last bus, in case this was to be the case.
The bus station cop assured me that it didn't matter what name was on the ticket. I waited 5 hours and read "The Carpetbaggers," by Harold Robbins.
I slept as well as I could on the bus ride.
I Get To Ocala
We got to Ocala. It looked like a bleak, barren wasteland. Ramshackle hovels, huddling in rows, looking like they were embarrassed, upon lots barren of plant life, except for the types considered "weeds" by horticulturalists and gardeners alike. Rusty, neglected items adorned the properties. We drove by a labor pool where a handful of worthies skulked about with their postures in attitudes which told the observer "...ain't nothin' happenin' today..."
A Harbinger Portending GloomThere was a girl sitting on the bench out in front of the bus station, which turned out to be directly across the street from the same labor pool. She had a
wooden crucifix hanging from her neck, and she appeared to be pregnant. She said that she had just found out that she had lost the baby in her womb. Her boyfriend didn't seem to care, and "just kept on playing his video game" after hearing the news. She said that she had lived her whole life in Ocala and was desperately trying to leave. "Let me put it to you bluntly; Ocala sucks!" She added that there was no work here, no way to make money here, and that drugs and slothfulness are the order of the place; "everyone" being on Unemployment, food stamps etc.She was helpful in pointing me towards the Salvation Army, and a couple of soup kitchens, as well as giving me their general schedules. She told me where to obtain hygiene products, in response to a question which I asked on behalf of Karrie.I decided to go and find my friend John, to see about a job.
I Almost Find John
I got on a bus and rode out to the College Road Dominos, thinking that this was where John worked. The bus ride was long. I had 50 pounds of freight, and had to walk with it about one mile to the store, where I was told that John used to work there "four years ago," but now worked at the Maricamp Road store. Could I walk there, carrying 50 pounds? He said that it was a 30 minute drive.
I walked the mile back to the bus stop, having adjusted the load, so that it balanced upon me much better. Karrie's pack on my back, guitar on the right shoulder, and my pack on the left shoulder, with the tent across the back of my shoulders, like a yoke on a mule. The tent kept my backpack from falling off of the left shoulder. As I began to peel jackets and shirts off, I used them as padding, under each shoulder strap.
I had my first beer of the day, while I waited for the Purple line, back to the center of town.
The Purple Line transferred me to the Red Line. Its driver was pretty sure that he knew where the Dominos was; not far, but, since the Red Line went in a big loop, it was going to be another long ride. It was as if we were at 6 'o clock, the Dominos at 5 'o clock and the bus going clockwise...
I find John
After an hour on the Red line, I needed to look for
A john, before looking for John.
I found him, in the store. He hadn't changed much. He marvelled over the burden which I carried. He showed me a wall in his office, covered with pictures of he and his fiance, posing by his side in various places, like Jaguar's games and festivals and beautiful locales. She is a 20 year old Colombian girl, very pretty, and named "Ester".
He then gave me an overview of his store, Ocala in general, and then we talked about old times.
What Ever Happened To Derk?
He updated me on a former owner of three Dominos, who was hated by almost all of his employees. He was married with a couple kids, drove an expensive car, and did things like refusing to pay employees, based upon technicalities, and the fact that he owned three Dominos.
I had my most lucrative week ever, delivering pizza under Derk. He had driven most of the other drivers to quit. I made $729.30 in that one week. He was sending me out with 5 orders at a time.
I find John
After an hour on the Red line, I needed to look for
A john, before looking for John.I found him, in the store. He hadn't changed much. He marvelled over the burden which I carried. He showed me a wall in his office, covered with pictures of he and his fiance, posing by his side in various places, like Jaguar's games and festivals and beautiful locales. She is a 20 year old Colombian girl, very pretty, and named "Ester".
He then gave me an overview of his store, Ocala in general, and then we talked about old times.
What Ever Happened To Derk?
He updated me on a former owner of three Dominos, who was hated by almost all of his employees. He was married with a couple kids, drove an expensive car, and did things like refusing to pay employees, based upon technicalities, and the fact that he owned three Dominos.
I had my most lucrative week ever, delivering pizza under Derk. He had driven most of the other drivers to quit. I made $729.30 in that one week. He was sending me out with 5 orders at a time.
Now, he is in jail for life, after he murdered someone.
He got caught cheating; lost a lot in the divorce, had a motorcycle accident; got addicted to pain pills; escalated to crack cocaine, and was in quite a state of mind when he shot a drug dealer in his car, in front of witnesses, because they had ripped him off. He was featured on Crimestoppers, along with his "accomplice."
John seemed intrigued by my life as a street musician, and seemed to think that I could do better as such. I could sense that he was in the grips of the Great Recession, along with everybody else, and there probably isn't much he can do to help me. He told me of spots where I could camp, gave me a ride to the library, and said that if I wanted a ride back to Jacksonville, in 14 days, I could ride in the back of his truck. He will be taking Ester there, to catch their flight to Las Vegas, where they will be married, with nobody else in attendance.
I think I will have to be a highway musician, at least until things improve.
I have 14 days to test the waters here and see if any of the ramps yield profit, before John leaves. I hope I do, as I am down to 85 dollars, after leaving with 140.
Could Have Been A Disaster
They charged me an extra 10 bucks for having Karrie's pack with me. It would have been a disaster, had I sent Karrie with the luggage, to ride the bus, while I rode the bike here, according to the way we had originally planned.
She would not have had the 10 bucks for the extra bag, and would have been in a dilemma. I would have sent her with some money, of course, but she might have drank it. Then, I would have been down here with nothing but a guitar and a bike, and no way to communicate with her.
A Tornado
I left the library and walked towards the forest, which John had told me would be a good spot to camp, being "not in the ghetto."
I lay ed down upon the tarp (I was glad I had toted it) and the blue sleeping bag. I had chosen a convenient spot, rather closer than one where I would have felt comfortable pitching the tent. I was tired of carrying everything. I planned upon hiding most of it and just carrying the guitar and a light pack, to go out and play on the off ramp of Rt. 75 this morning.
Then, it started to rain lightly. I wrapped the tarp over me and went back to sleep. The rain got heavier and the tarp started to prove inadequate. I wound up pulling the rain-fly from out of the tent bag and sitting under it, with my guitar and the two packs, using the extended handle of Karrie's to prop the thing a bit. I tuned in the local station, hoping to hear that it was just a passing shower, instead, they said there would be thunderstorms all day, and possibly more at night. They also said that there was a tornado in the area, and to stay somewhere "safe."
I waited for a lull in the rainfall, threw the tarp over the soaked sleeping bag, the tent and the two packs. Then I put on my rain jacket, wrapped the rain-fly around the guitar and went to the store for coffee, and then here, to the library. I arrived very wet. The rain is supposed to continue with more thunderstorms tomorrow. I will be out of work, and may just swallow my pride and go to the Salvation Army. The good news is that the weekend is supposed to be sunny and "beautiful."
Lidgleys Coming
The couple from London is coming to Orlando for their annual Florida Vacation. We have been corresponding, (and in fact they read this blog) since we met like ships in the night in St. Augustine, last year. They want to meet for lunch or so, and now I need to e-mail them with more specific instructions as to how they can find me, without any margin for error. John's store seems to be an option. I must research a map to see if it can even be gotten to, from Orlando, without the series of twists and turns, which the bus took.
I will do that, and dry out at the same time. Then, if the rain has stopped, will go hide the stuff better and then go to the Salvation Army. One night won't kill me.
A Tornado
I left the library and walked towards the forest, which John had told me would be a good spot to camp, being "not in the ghetto."
I lay ed down upon the tarp (I was glad I had toted it) and the blue sleeping bag. I had chosen a convenient spot, rather closer than one where I would have felt comfortable pitching the tent. I was tired of carrying everything. I planned upon hiding most of it and just carrying the guitar and a light pack, to go out and play on the off ramp of Rt. 75 this morning.
Then, it started to rain lightly. I wrapped the tarp over me and went back to sleep. The rain got heavier and the tarp started to prove inadequate. I wound up pulling the rain-fly from out of the tent bag and sitting under it, with my guitar and the two packs, using the extended handle of Karrie's to prop the thing a bit. I tuned in the local station, hoping to hear that it was just a passing shower, instead, they said there would be thunderstorms all day, and possibly more at night. They also said that there was a tornado in the area, and to stay somewhere "safe."
I waited for a lull in the rainfall, threw the tarp over the soaked sleeping bag, the tent and the two packs. Then I put on my rain jacket, wrapped the rain-fly around the guitar and went to the store for coffee, and then here, to the library. I arrived very wet. The rain is supposed to continue with more thunderstorms tomorrow. I will be out of work, and may just swallow my pride and go to the Salvation Army. The good news is that the weekend is supposed to be sunny and "beautiful."
Lidgleys Coming
The couple from London is coming to Orlando for their annual Florida Vacation. We have been corresponding, (and in fact they read this blog) since we met like ships in the night in St. Augustine, last year. They want to meet for lunch or so, and now I need to e-mail them with more specific instructions as to how they can find me, without any margin for error. John's store seems to be an option. I must research a map to see if it can even be gotten to, from Orlando, without the series of twists and turns, which the bus took.
I will do that, and dry out at the same time. Then, if the rain has stopped, will go hide the stuff better and then go to the Salvation Army. One night won't kill me.
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