|Corrie Looks Like This|
The other night, at the Save-A-Lot, I was at the register when none other than Corrie came up and said hi. She was quick to point out that her boyfriend was right outside, (and probably watching) before anything like a hug was exchanged. They were on their way to make sandwiches, having procured lunch meat at the Save-A-Lot, and found sub rolls in the Subway dumpster.
I wound up going to Jeff's church with him last night. We brought John, the preacher along with us. At first, I was told that there was not room for John the Preacher, but then later re-informed that Leigh would not attend, due to being behind on her schoolwork, and that Jennifer, wife of Jeff would likewise not be there, due to illness.
We arrived there and heard preaching by the music minister. It had to do with "sanctification" and "justification" being mutually exclusive. I was glad that John didn't jump up out of his pew and scream "That's bullshit!!" at any time during the service.
Afterwards, I met a parishiner named Stephanie, who is a math teacher. We talked about calculus and "discreet" mathematics, while John conversed with others about sanctification and justification. John was inviting them to the revival, they were telling John that everything they needed was right in their bible. John just came by, as I am sitting here, and handed me a piece of paper with the revival schedule on it. Tonight, it is at 7:30. I may just poke my head in for a minute or two.
I arrived at Serda's at about 8pm., and noticed that someone was already playing. I think we turned the clocks back one hour for daylight savings, or something. I had missed about 4 performers. The guy playing, I had heard before and I don't fear him as competition.
Once inside, I noticed the judges at their special table, with their names on placards in front of themselves. I watched just about all the performers thereafter.
Although I hadn't seen Jeff's daughter, Leigh at church, I was tapped on the shoulder by a young reddish haired girl after I had sat down near the judges table. She asked me if my name was Daniel, and, then introduced herself as Taylor, another daughter of Jeff.
Apparently her boyfriend? is one of the judges, the one from the Music Box on Dauphin Street.
Taylor was very friendly, and one of the prettier girls there, and we talked about writing and music and writing music. She displayed a sense of humor at various times, but not at the expense of the performers, who we both agreed, were trying their hardest to do well. All in all, she was like an angel. She knew that her dad had read On Writing, by Stepen King, and she encouraged me to look at my music as if it were my job, and to put 8 hours a day into it, the same way Stephen looks at his writing as if it is his job.
The two finalists selected were "Venom," a rapper, who I have seen before, and Sky Johansen, a keyboard player/singer, who was very artistic and almost avante-garde.
Venom raps so fast that I struggle to decipher what he is rapping about. It seems that he is rapping about finding success as a rapper.
Sky sang a song called "The Rain Song," and one called "Highway Story," I dread going up against her in the finals, but not so much in other contexts. (yes, that's an innuendo)
She used every octave on her keyboard, making her accompanyment sound sparse, yet interesting. Her body language helped to reenforce the illusion that she was a sorceress, conjuring the music up from out of her keyboard. Her arms moved like willow branches in the breeze right before a violent thunderstorm. Other than that, she sucked -LOL, just kidding!!
I ran into some friendly faces; Jimmy-Lee greeted me warmly. Several people asked me if I was going to play, and I told them about my stretegy of playing next week (Nov. 10th)
|I Might Get One|
I am about to go practice, maybe after reading some. I might go to get a Crunk energy drink. I have changed my diet a lot as part of my training for the contest. I am thinking that I might do "Here Come The Bums," and "I'm Crazy About A Crazy Girl," and save "Hubert's Trip" for the finals. There won't BE any finals if they're not good enough, though. It will be a gamble. I haven't eaten; will have to get that unpleasant chore over with.
I am sure that I am going to go get at least a shot of liquor, but, I was sure of that yesterday, but then changed my mind. It will be 10 days without a drink, as of 9pm. tonight, unless I go to ABC and get a shot of Jim Beam, (just to prove to myself that I can't stand it, and am through with it forever.)
There must be people praying for me, or else maybe I am coming back to a way of life which I had 25 years ago, after I was born again at a Grateful Dead concert. It didn't seem to be producing any "fruit" back then, so I strayed away from it. But, I was ab;e to write a song back then, and remember it 20 years later; now, when I have trouble remembering where I put my milk crate that I sit on when I play.
One of the songwriters told me that he made 100 dollars in 45 minutes in New Orleans. He said the other performers there were 'territorial" because they "make their whole living doing that,"
Well, big deal, I make my "whole living" playing on the street, too. I'm ready to go there. He said it took him 6 hours to get a spot to play, and that was only after what he called "shcmoozing" the other performers.