Last Supper Was Last Wednesday

They Stole My Book
Yesterday (Sunday), when I woke up, the sky was blue; "not a cloud in sight." This is how the previous two days had started, before thunderstorms and torrential rains came in the mid-afternoon. This day looked different, the skies being even clearer than the past two days. I spread my sleeping bag out on Elizabeth Williams (d. 1827) marble grave-top to dry in the sun, sat and read some of The Da Vinci Code in another spot, towards the entrance to the graveyard. I then put down the book, with the paged fanned open, facing the sun, so it would dry. It was damp from the two previous days, which fooled me by started out clear and then turning very unclear.
After I posted Sunday's post, I went back into the graveyard to find that my copy of The Da Vinci Code- front cover missing, pages damp- had been stolen off of the gravestone where I left it to dry.
I discussed this with Jeff, the Potter, whom I called before leaving the library, and who told me that the letter from my mom, - the one containing the copy of my birth certificate- had arrived at his house. I would need the document the following day, in my quest to replace my ID card, which was lost last August because it was in the case of the guitar which got stolen. (See "They Stole My Guitar" from August '10 for more on that).
Jeff surmised that a family, who only visit their great-great-great-grandfather's grave once a year, came all the way from Lexington, Kentucky (or somewhere) to do just that and were mortified (excuse the pun) to see a copy of The Da Vinci Code, wet and missing its cover, on top of the revered monument, whereupon they removed and discarded it.
I surmised that, any one of the local "Bible Belt" fundamentalists visiting the graveyard saw the book and took affront over the fact that the book has been called anti-Christian, and its dampness preventing them from burning it, they removed and discarded it.
My second theory was that one of the other homeless people, one with the "crab mentality" came upon the book, and surmising who owned it (by eliminating all the illiterates who sleep in the graveyard) and removed and discarded it, just to deprive me of it. I checked all the waste cans in the immediate area, but, no Da Vinci Code.
I wonder if whomever stole it maybe scratched something into the marble at the scene which, when deciphered, would provide a message to me, a very important one....hmm...
Thunderstorm Sneaks Up

Then,I went to Save-A-Lot, even though I am not eating, and while I was in there, the sky clouded up, thunder and lightning rumbled and flashed respectively, and I waited out the storm there, thinking about my sleeping bag and how it was keeping Ms. Williams grave dry.
Jeff brought me the letter from my mom, we had a nice talk, then he dropped me off back in town.
I went into the graveyard, rolled up my soggy bag and then trundled off towards the Christ Church spot, which has the hot air vents blowing all night out of the AC unit thing.
I hung my bag to dry in front of it, washed my sneakers and socks and a shirt, and hung them along with it, and then walked, shirtless and shoeless to a spot which is brightly lit, so that I could read.
I opened my bible to a random page and, with my eyes closed, placed my finger down. I was relying upon the faith that the passage would speak to me in my plight. My finger fell upon the last chapter of the book of Haggai. In it the Lord points out to the people that they sow but they don't reap, they eat but it doesn't satisfy, they drink but it doesn't quench. It was because they had put off rebuilding the temple.
I thought about how the past year has produced next to nothing, at least nothing tangible. God said that he was going to begin to bless them, at the point that they began to rebuild. It was a sign that I maybe should go to the tornado ravaged areas and help them rebuild; and I will be blessed.
I spent a good hour reading. When I got back, my bag was pretty dry.
ID Replacement
Up in the morning, it was off to the RBC Bank (the royal bank of Canada, by the way) to cash my jail check. First, I stopped at the Dauphine (used) Book Store and bought another copy of The Da vinci Code, for 2 dollars. I then went over to the ID place, where I managed to get my ID. Next, I made the mile walk to the food stamp office, through 98 degree humidity,  to take a number and be told the third time "come back tomorrow" and they will "expedite" my process, so that I will have food money within 24 hours. This might be the time to break the fast; unless a burning bush or an angel tells me otherwise.
I Get Guitar And Backpack Back
I stepped out of the food stamp office, into the furnace-like temperatures, and decided to walk another two miles to the police station, to retrieve my belongings, which I had been without for the entire weekend. I did this (walk) to pay for the copy of The Da Vinci Code, which was the same amount of money as a bus ride each way would have been.  It was a pretty grueling walk, having not eaten in 5 days. I stopped at Starbucks and got a "Pelegrinno" mineral water, along the way, using the gift card that Alyne and Mike sent last spring in a care package, and then another one at the Rite Aid. That brand of water is from (Pelegrinno) Italy, and might have some minerals that you can't get over in this continent, minerals which might restore your sanity if taken during physical exertion in the heat, you never know. The Rite Aid had small bottles of Pinot Grigio wine on sale for $1.50, which I had to walk past to get to the mineral water. I almost decided upon the wine instead, telling myself the fructose in it would be good for me, or some other rationale.
Then;tired after a day of walking in the heat and accomplishing four things, I repeated the previous nights prole of reading, washing clothes and sleeping. 

Nashville

Fast Broken On Day 6
Around noontime today, I broke my 6 day fast with three bananas from Save-A-Lot, and here I sit. Tomorrow, I will have a couple hundred bucks on the food card, and can seriously look into a move to either New Orleans, Tuscaloosa (because I heard there is a lot of work [something I haven't been able to find in 4 years because God wanted me to be a street musician] cleaning up the debris from the tornadoes that ripped through there recently), or Nashville (because I just read a lengthy article about the making of Bob Dylan's "Blond On Blond," album, and got the notion that it would be cool to go to a place that bills itself as "Music City," or "The Music Capitol Of The World," or whatever they think Nashville is. I'm sure that there are a lot of technically proficient musicians there, who can play in any style, but lack creativity. There are songwriters there who need backing musicians, and musicians who need songs written. Plus, I ain't never been nowhere Elvis ever walked and talked and slept -it's about time, perhaps.
Now, here it is, Tuesday afternoon.
Tonight, I may try to play on the street for an hour or two, just to see if I can make a dollar.