I was at the stadium by about 1 p.m. yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. I had the advantage of not knowing that the clocks had been "turned back," which gave me an extra hour.
I sat and warmed up while a few people straggled by, either arriving late, or leaving early.
I made about 5 bucks off of them. One guy walked by with a woman, tossing me two bucks and saying "Just rock out!."
I was told to move twice.
First, away from the original spot, after I had made the 5 bucks.
Then, out of the second spot, after adding another 2 or 3.
Those security guys, perhaps rewarding me for my pleasant disposition and cooperation, told me that I was "more than welcome" to play directly across the street, which I did, as the game was letting out, and added another 25 bucks or so to my case, playing "Not Fade Away," by the Grateful Dead, over, and over, and over. It's one of my "loud" songs, and the rhythm seems to touch a nerve in people. It is a Buddy Holly song, but he borrowed the rhythm from Bo Diddley or Chuck Berry -I can't remember which...
Sunday Night
That night, after leaving the stadium area, I rode to a sports bar and watched the Patriots lose in a most dispiriting way to the Giants, after seeming to have miraculously snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
I was happy to notice that my swollen cheek was feeling better.
Then, I played somewhere; I think Bourbon Street. I wasn't trying to drink heavily, but, combined with the aspirin that I was taking, it made for some disorientation.
One hightlight of the night was watching a gutter punk girl get tossed out of Rouse's Market for the offence of "smelling."
"Oh, no, I can't do that, sorry," said the guy.
Good for you, sir!,
He could have punctuated it with something like "They sell them right in there," and pointed to Rouse's Market, but, it was satisfying to see her rebuffed, at some level.
Then, the guy turned around and handed her the cup that he was drinking out of. It was half full of a red liquid.
"It's vodka and cranberry, do you still want it?"
"Oh, hell yeah!" said the gutter punk girl, (apparently a big lover of cranberry.)
"It's a healthy drink," said the man over his shoulder, as he walked off.
"Good, I'm trying to lose weight," said the gutter punk girl.
Then, she said to another one of them that had arrived on the scene, "F*** it, I'm going to get something to eat," and then walked into the market, with myself a couple steps behind her.
This was just about the time that the other girl was exiting the store, cussing loudly over her shoulder, at whoever had just told her that she was offending in the personal heigiene department. I didn't even go through the personal hygiene department, what would I want any of that crap for??
I got my soup and the last beer of the night, and I got to the front register just as the gutter punk girl with the cranberry drink was leaving out the front door after not having stopped at a register.
I told the cashier that I had just overheard the girl to say that she was coming in the store for something to eat. "I guess she didn't find anything she liked," I said, trying to keep the sarcasm in check.
We then talked; the cashier and I, about the gutter punks in general with the cashier delivering of herself the opinion that "all they are doing is stinking up the place (New Orleans.)"
Checkpoint Charlie's
Having a wealth of cash of over 30 bucks, I decided that I had the freedom to play at Checkpoint Charlie's open mic night, where I scored a few points with some other musicians and was complemented upon one of my original songs, "Crazy About A Crazy Girl."
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| Sue Makes Her Escape From Me |
I had thought about getting a bike lock from Wal-Mart before the football game, but then thought that the bike wouldn't be out of my sight while I played, and that the time to play was already upon me. It would have cost me an extra 10 bucks in tips to have gone and gotten a lock.
To make a long story short, as the sun came up this morning, a new light was cast upon the "wealth of cash" that I had in my pocket, because, the bike, which I hadn't tied to the backpack/guitar combo (which is ALWAYS tied together) was gone.
I was on a slight slope, and I guess I wiggled and slid my way down the hill just far enough so that one of the gutter punks, or others who are there to protest corruption, could not resist the urge to sneak up and steal it sometime early this morning..
I think I may have made a mistake when I ate some fried chicken and the can of soup within their line of sight. I could hear some discontented murmurings coming from their hilltop. Such flaunting of my opulence must have driven them to seek justice against me. I'm sure they were "starving" at the time because there aren't any calories in whiskey, and the free breakfast was still 3 hours away...
This puts replacing the bike at the top of my list of things to do, right after doing laundry. I appreciate the fact that people, like the Rouse's cashiers see me as being "not one of them" (gutter punks,) and would like to try to keep it that way by not compelling them to spray Lysol in the air after my every visit.
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| Living A Life Without Me, When It Used To Be About Me... |
I think I have deduced where Sue is hiding: -across the river in the "Algiers" section.
There is a free ferry which takes pedestrians there at quite frequent intervals.
I know that she has "seen the other side."
She has gone to the library over there with Mary, one of her few friends at The Occupation, at least once.
It would be a good place for her to stay if she wanted to avoid Canal Street (spelled "m-e") altogether. She probably has a place to sleep and a way to keep Kooky and her fed.
I had thought about taking the ferry across to have a look around, but, not having the bike has slowed me down, and I will be lucky to get my laundry done and a few hours of playing in tonight..
I saw Mary recently, who turned a cold shoulder towards me, which supports my theory that she and Sue are staying together, and Sue is telling her horror stories about my fits of yelling at her (once).
Mary is familiar with the other side of the river.
Lee, (the guy from St. Louis, who also knows Sue) said "She'd be better off over there," after I profered my speculation about her whereabouts.
I will most likely see her at the courthouse tomorrow morning, when we will learn our fates in that reguard.
The idea of leaving here to go south for the winter, only to return for Mardi Gras, is appealing
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