4 Day Haitus (appended)

This library closed
for 4 days, over the holiday, reminding me that holidays are not really for the homeless.
It closed, and it will close again, over the New Year's holiday, Saturday through Monday. I won't be back until January 3rd.
I played over the weekend with mixed results.
I'm Probably Perfect The Way I Am
It seemed like Friday night's activities died down early.

Relax, Daniel

I stopped by where Tonya and Dorise were playing , in front of Rouse's Market. Tonya asked me why I had a deeply thoughtful look on my face, and asked me if I was even capable of relaxing the tension in my lower forehead, which gave me that look. "I don't know, I'll have to think really hard over that," I said.
She assured me that there was nothing wrong with it, in her opinion, and that she wasn't judging me, and that I am probably perfect just the way I am.
As she was packing up her stuff, she asked excitedly, if I was going to play. I figured "why not," because in front of Rouse's Market is one of the "best" spots in the French Quarter. It is a great spot for a band, or someone with a big production, involving amplifiers, chairs, microphones, and preferably, an 8 year old girl playing the drums. It is a mediocre spot for a lone unamplified guy with an acoustic guitar.
I took my guitar out and played, thinking more of trying to impress Tonya, than any other thing.
She has an acoustic guitar player (Dorise) as an accompanist, already. I was impressed with the repertoir of Christmas songs that they were able to churn out, especially their instrumental version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas," and Tonya's ability to count the days, so as not to make it "The Eleven (or Thirteen) Days of Christmas."

You've got some funk in that box...

It would have been nice for Tonya to tell me that I sounded good, before she hopped in their van and took off, but, I had to spend a bit of time tuning, and then played a song that I thought that Tonya would like, and which I had to stop in the middle of, because I hadn't been doing my homework and memorising songs that I think Tonya would like...
The next night, Saturday, I had better luck after I stopped where Doreen was playing the clarinet with her husband on Suzaphone (partially shown; bottom left), and her little girl, Dorien, on drums. They were packing up to leave also, asked me if I was going to take the spot also, and this time I played a song that I thought the little girl would like, playing funky chords and making up lyrics about the green bread of my sandwich (It was "spinach bread," and was supposed to be green, but I made a joke about it). Doreen's husband put a dollar in my case and said "You've got some funk in that box!"
It being Christmas eve, there were people everywhere, and I had the feeling that I could have made a lot of money, just because of the occasion, but I couldn't bring myself to just sit somewhere for that purpose alone. I might have to adjust my attitude in that reguard, in the future.
I just about broke even the whole 4 days of the extended holiday, to include last night's Monday Night Football event at the Superdome, when it rained just about the whole time. I sat under a stairwell and played. Most people just walked past me, and I didn't think that I was making hardly anything at all. I counted about 16 bucks this morning. Some of the people that threw me something must have thrown a few bucks, because I'm pretty sure that less than 16 people tipped me.
Then, I stood up and banged my head on the concrete of the stairwell which was a couple feet above it as I sat. I left the game because of a mild concussion. (The league is paying extra attention to those kind of injuries this year, and, even though I didn't have any blurred vision, I decided to err on the side of caution and went to the library's patio to sleep).
This morning, Howard asked what has become his "morning question" lately: "How'd you do last night?"
I don't suspect any hidden motives in his asking me that, though, because he gets check every month from Social Security, I sometimes wonder if he sees the potential to be of help to me, somewhere down the road, especially at times when "I didn't do so well last night."
It is still up in the air, the decision to cut myself free of Howard, or to take him along wherever I go. The pros and cons are about equal in the matter. He might get a little extra money for being hard of hearing, though...I said "HE MIGHT GET A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY FOR BEING HARD OF HEARING!!!!"
It would be easy to write him off as a bumbling idiot who trods along behind me and asks painfully obvious questions like "Are you gonna go inside?" after we had walked all the way to the Unique Store and are standing out front. "No, Howard, I just wanted to see if I remembered how to get here after bumping my head last night." Or "Are you gonna hide it in there?," as we near a lone stand of palmettos and I am walking towards it carrying my sleeping bag, after having said "First, I'm going to stash my sleeping bag somewhere," before we walked there. And then: "Is that a good hiding place?" "No, Howard; my bag gets stolen out of here every time and I have to buy a new one each day, but I just don't know of any better hiding places..."
But, I had recently rededicated myself to living a more spiritual life, and had asked Jesus into my heart for about the 38th time. This time was different, though, because I was really comfortable with the people that prayed over me, none of them reminded me of a used car salesman, dealing over my soul, and I think the prayer had an effect; things changed wholesale for the positive, and a lot of blessings came my way.
And, Howard came my way.
Because of his deafness, it is easy for people to dismiss him as being mentally retarded, and that kind of treatment has apparently molded his personality. I think he is intelligent, but just misunderstood, and lonely.
If I give my body to be burned, but don't have charity, then...I don't remember the rest of that scripture, but the end result isn't good...