The Other End Of The Earth

The Chinese have taken an interest in my exploits

I have only 16 minutes to post, but must mention that I now have someone in China waiting with baited breath for the next installation.
Since I have such a brief time to post, I will try to hit the high points.
Blown Money
Last night, the wind was blowing in gales.
I washed my clothes at a laundromat right across the street from Lois Armstrong Park, before going out to play.
The laundromat used to be a recording studio, and recorded the likes of Little Richard, Ray Charles, Professor Longhair, and a slew of others (not listed in the order of their greatness).
Then, I went and played on Canal Street in the gusting winds which were reminiscent of tropical storm Lee.
At one point, right before I knocked off to go chase money, a gust of wind upended my guitar case, despite the full, unopened can of beer that I was using as a paper weight to pin the bills, and the money that I had made, (except for a miraculous 5 dollar bill and two ones which somehow fell into the vortex in the case where the winds cancelled each other out, causing a calm spot) flew down Canal Street, as if it was terrified of me; took a left at the Insectarium parking lot, and then a right on Gravier Street, at which point I lost it, both in my line of vision as well as in all other intents and purposes...
I couldn't help wonder if the half dozen bills swirling away from me were all hundreds, or just singles, as I was riding back to the Occupy New Orleans campsite where I encountered Sue, who was hanging out with about 5 guys.
One of them immediately tried to bum stuff off me.
I was pretty pissed and had fortified myself with Shlitz beer (which, by the way,  I toast Edmund Veatour with every time I crack a can open. He was the father of my best friend growing up and I think the first sip of beer that I ever had was snuck behind Edmunds back when he was up a ladder painting or something, out of sight of hisShlitz. Note: I've toasted my friends father close to 100 times since coming to New Orleans)
I got pissed at Sue for some reason, which I struggle to understand. Maybe it was because she had taken up with the guys that she was hanging out with and barely said a word to me.
I went off to my spot as I heard them all migrating to the gazebo to get out of the wind and possible rain. I was prepared to tell Sue to get the hell away from me if she approached.
Then, I started to try to put myself in a more resourceful state of mind, and my anger melted away. I did resolve to ignore her from that point on, though.

In the morning, Sue woke me up with a cup of hot coffee.
She told me that she had hardly slept, due to the constant chatter of those others who chose to hardly sleep. She said that she was "freezing."
I drank the coffee and then went up into the gazebo, where Sue was sitting on a cot and she patted the spot next to her, inviting me to sit.
She reitterated that she was "freezing," whereupon I put my arm around her and vigorously rubbed the back of her fleece hoodie, which was her only protection from the cold; having given away most of her heavy clothing to those who she feels are helpless, so that those who she feels are helpless could sell or trade the garments for beer money or beer. She didn't flinch or slap me and actually seemed content.

We left the campground together.
I told her that I planned to hide my sleeping bag in a spot down by the Mississippi River, that I knew was undisturbed due to the fact of me finding a cell phone, which had been there for a long time, as evidenced by its condition of being caked in dust.
She walked with me as I pushed the bike, myself being only slightly perturbed over the time that I was wasting by doing so.
We had to stop at the spot (per her order) where I had spotted the bird which was the twin to the bird that she had captured and relocated to Lous Armstrong Park's pond. We didn't find it after a 20 minute search through the bushes, under the the glares of homeless people sitting on benches nearby who might have had stuff hidden in the same bushes.
Then, after I stopped at the Westin Hotel to use the restroom, while Sue waited outside watching all of our stuff ("You talk about trust...") because she isn't allowed inside because they are wise to the cat in her bag.
I remembered to get water at Starbucks for the cat in the bag, which she didn't even give to the cat in the bag, confirming my belief that the getting of the water was merely a test of me, to see if I was paying attention to her (Kooky's) needs.
We went to the Riverside, where I hid my sleeping bag in the secret spot.
I decided to play right there on the Riverwalk, even though I didn't do it nearby where the Natchez boat launches for its cruise, and is where the musicians are fabled to make the Big Bucks.
There wasn't much traffic, and Sue pointed that fact out. We walked all the way to my Decatur Street spot, with her only mildly objecting to the distance involved, where I played and made about 10 bucks in an hour. This seemed to meet with Sue's approval.
Then, I actually put her and Kooky and her bag on the handlebars of the bike and zig-zagged through the French Quarter with her head resting against me, and her occasionally telling me "look out" when we encountered traffic. It was like being with Karrie all over again. I was surprised that she trusted my "driving."

Before I even put these ones on, my judgement told me
that they were going to be too big for my face



This Pair wasnt much better...

These are probably the ones I'll go with...for now...