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| Little Richard and Fats Domino stopped coming here, after it was changed from a music studio into a laundromat. |
since the mission is closed for the holidays, is to do my laundry today.
I asked Howard if there was anything that he needed washed, and he told me that yes, there indeed was; but he was wearing it all and had nothing to change into. I shouted to him directions to the Goodwill Store.
My Camera Phone
My camera phone is in the news, as it has been malfunctioning these past few days.
Techno Speak
When I plug it in, I get the message that the phone is ready to use, but if I want to view the pictures in that folder, a box pops open and thumbnails begin to populate the box, but at some point the thumbnails stop being rendered and are replaced by the Windows icon which is used in place of photos which could not be rendered.
Then, the box loses its functions, the pointer becomes an hourglass in outer space, or in a zero gravity similator, and the display on the phone begins to sporadically alternate between telling me that USB is connected, and that it is not connected. One small ray of hope is that my USB connecting cable has a damaged spot along it, where the outer casing has been split open, exposing the little red and green wires. It could be the cables "fault" (even though it is hard to place blame on it for doing exactly what a messed up cable is expected to do). Anyone with knowledge about these matters, please leave a comment or suggestion.
I will add that, when I wiggle the cable at around the spot where the fracture is, the wiggling coincides with the sporadic appearances of dialog boxes telling me things like "device not recognized" or "a problem occurred.."
Now that I think of it as a former technician, there is more than a 99% chance that it is the cable, and all I have do to test the hypothesis is try it with another cable. Technician, heal thyself!
Yesterday's Debacle
Yesterday, I left the library and got an all day bus pass. I then saw the 39 bus pass by and decided to walk to my transfer location in 20 minutes, rather than wait 45 minutes for the next 39 bus. (Warning: There may be a quiz at the end of this, where you will be asked "So, how many busses did Daniel see in all?).
I arrived at the transfer spot in 20 minutes and was in the middle of a 24 oz. beer when the next 94 bus came along. Those are the breaks.
To make a long story short; I got out there, went to the Family Dollar to get some things (and Howard's Cheese Whiz stuff), grabbed my bag of damp clothes, which showed signs of having been disturbed by someone, and got back to town just few minutes late for the closing of the library, and my guitar and bag were held hostage the whole night, while I just walked around Royal Street, taking a night off.
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| I forgot to mention Grandpa Elliot in the background wearing the hat...he's famous |
Across the street from one of the fancy hotels was a guy whom I had seen before and spoken to, a couple of times. He is mostly a singer, but accompanies himself very simply, on a guitar. "I'm the exact opposite; I'm trying to focus more on the guitar and less on singing," he said to me, after I told him that I had been working hard on my guitar playing and, after hearing his rather fine voice, was inspired to work more on my singing.
He is the opposite of me in many ways. He is clean cut. He stands up and uses a strap for the guitar, and makes eye contact with the people walking by.
I sit on the sidewalk, and focus on the music to the point that I sometimes have my head lowered over the fretboard and the people cannot even see my face.
I've never felt that my 'presentation' is appropriate for Royal Street, across from the swank hotel.
He had a few bills in his hat, I noticed at a quick glance, most of them fives.
It's hard to talk to another street performer while managing to keep your eyes diverted from his/her tip hat. It's an involuntarily action. You don't want to pause and stare rudely, but its the first thing that your gaze falls upon. Men in locker rooms experience a similar impulse.
The guy is a good singer, but what he pointed out was the fact that he was staying "clean."
Indeed, he had on like a dinner jacket, or a blazer and it looked clean. He was clean cut and looked like he could be a jet pilot. "Since I play across the street from the hotel, I try to stay clean," They (the hotel) appreciate it, they really do," he added and, as if to punctuate his sentence, someone came across the street from the hotel and dropped yet another five in his hat. Here it was a day upon which I failed to do laundry; then I run into HIM.
So, if you want to play across the street from the hotel, try to look like you stay across the street at the hotel.
Next comes Operation Laundry, which I will launch shortly.
Then, the "question of Howard" will have to be addressed.
He seems to have a very simple life of rising early, getting coffee and a newspaper, then reading in the library most of the day and retiring early.
It seems like he could do this anywhere, and why he would go to any lengths to get his Coffee and newspaper in California, instead of Louisianna, when it might entail "tailing" me all the way across the country where there might arise situations involving jumping off of bridges onto fast moving trains, and encountering poisonous snakes and homeless people along the way, is beyond me.
I need to have a talk with Howard, or rather write down my take on the whole situation, present it to him so he can digest it, and then wait for his reply. That would be better than having to shout the whole conversation back and forth, letting every other homeless person in on our business.
I'll have to say that when I had to ask for spare change, I was also clean, I always had a clean crew-cut, I'd say one thing that puts people off is greasy or greasy-appearing hair. Looking like an astronaut is a pretty good way to go, and it's not hard to do - a hair cut every 2-3 weeks, go to a cheap Vietnamese barbershop if you have 'em there. Get your clothes from Goodwill or garage sales etc just buy Joe College type stuff. You can get by with work boots, those tan-colored things, and they make you look like a worker not a bar-hanger-outer, or tennis shoes can be comfy but they're not allowed on a lot of work sites so you screw your worker cred.
ReplyDeleteNeedless to say facial hair is out. I tried growing a moustache, and it comes in half white hairs and funny looking. I shave it, and I get carded. I can't win! But a neat one is probably OK.
After a re-read, I've thought of some more things.
ReplyDeleteThere is, or was, a singer named Doc Watson, he was blind, so of course his way of making a living was as a musician. He sang folks music, and he was known for having a very clean, clear, voice. That's another way of being clean. Hard to do on the street, my own voice gets scratchy right away and I don't think singing would work for me.
On the hunching over your fretboard - most cities, in fact any area that's likely to have any human within 100 yards, is going to have a noise level of 110 dB or so. You don't notice it because you're used to it, but cities are incredibly noisy. You have to go to an airport or rock concert to find a higher noise level. What does this mean regarding busking? What it means is, unless you play something that really carries like the trombone, tuba, or tenor sax, chances are, people are paying you for what they see, *not* what they hear, because all they're able to hear is street noise. This is another way in which Mr. Clean wins.
I've had my most success busking with a cornet, 5" shorter horn than a trumpet means that much less interference with foot traffic, and it forces one to stand up, face people, etc. People could hear it 100 yards away, and decide to give or not. I got tips from old men and college dudes and everyone. You can't slump and scrunch up playing one, and I had fun actually *interacting* with people, as in, I'd play along and if someone turned out to have a baby in their arms or were in a conversation, I'd immediately start playing much more quietly, without missing a beat. It's a very outgoing instrument.
To recap:
Most "listeners" are in fact "eating with their eyes", they can't year you so you need to *look* good.
If you want them to hear you, you need something louder. Without resorting to an amp, it pretty much means a sax or brass.
A horn 5" longer would keep bumping people in the face, eh? I hope to answer your comment with today's post, which I might call "Mr. Clean," unless something better jumps off the page upon "proof" reading (which might just prove that I have my head up my ass) -Daniel
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