The Contest
It will be 8 days without any alcohol consumption, as of 9 pm. tonight. If I keep harping on this, I will drive myself to drink. In fact, don't be surprised to see me back at 1 day, on tomorrow's post....
The Songwriter's contest will start tommorow night, but that will be an elimination round in which I will not participate. I am thinking that a lot of good writers will be eliminated, and the next weeks field will be "weaker." That is my stragegy, along with practicing as much as possible.
The event will be "streamed" on serdascoffee.com, (I think that is it, I will check again) they say. I will have to see if anyone can capture it onto a hard drive or some device, by logging on. Maybe my brother in Massachusetts can, because he works in the technological field. I might call him.
Time has slithered away on me, like the serpent. I have to keep this short, and then call Jeff as per his e-mailed request.
I played on the median strip this morning, even though it was not out of pecunary dificulties, as is usually the case, when I am driven to take such an extreme measure.
The people can't really hear me play; just see me, and know that I am makinig an effort to do something besides stand there with a sign. The signs which the beggars hold are usually lacking in integrity, unless they specifically state words to the effect of "lazy and have discovered that I can do this and make easy money by taking advantage of people's generosity."
I stand there and play music, with a sign that says: "Street Musician Stimulus Package."
I made about 8 bucks. A cop came and told me that I couldn't play on that spot. "We let you play on Dauphin Street; we have no problem with that, but you're on the side of the road!" said the cop.
That is unfortunate, because, if I was really ambitious, I would play there in the early morning, and then move to Royal Street for lunch, and then to Dauphin in the evening, and get my "8 hours" in.
Time has escaped me. I still have things that I want to do. I have spent only one dollar today.
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Comments, to me are like deflated helium balloons with notes tied to them, found on my back porch in the morning...