Correction

• Daniel Posts Two Consequetive Gains



"Have Something To Say..."

• Just waiting on Howard's medicine

The Real Wednesday Night
I erroneously called the night before last Wednesday night
(referring to it as a notoriously slow business night) in yesterdays post when, in fact, that had been Tuesday night when I got the 35 dollar tip for playing "Like A Rolling Stone," by Bob Dylan, and then "Dear Prudence," by The Beatles; both with harp solos.
Last night was the real Wednesday night, the notoriously slow one, and I made about 21 bucks in three sets of almost an hour each.
I thought I played like crap, though, as there were a few things on my mind.
One of them was the fact that the painter guy was out on the steps across from me, playing his guitar.
Brooding And Disturbing
I think that he was trying to busk for some money, and, if that was the case, it was a faux pas for me to sit right across from him. He was probably too proud to ask to sit in with me, probably having gotten the message that I had taken off a couple of nights prior, because I felt that I could make more money if I didn't have to split it with someone who wasn't matching my "intensity"...
He is a decent player, but there is something about his music that makes it seem like he is too shy to say something with it, if that makes sense.
One of the compliments that I got from Lawrence, who plays with Dorreen's Jazz Band was "I can tell; you've got something to say on that guitar." The painter guys music seems to say, I'm a quiet yet deeply complex person and you would never understand me, just like this minor 9th flat 5 chord, which sounds brooding and disturbing.
My goal when I started was to play "nice" music.
I had a creepy feeling that the gentleman in the condo behind me was still hosting his guest, the one that goes to bed at 10:30 p.m., and even though it was early (before sundown) my intuition told me to stick to nice songs, "smooth, light and easy so you can relax" tunes, or to make myself vulnerable by improvising lyrically intensive stuff about love lost and heartaches i.e. sing about Karrie, (the girl who was supposed to follow me to Mobile, Alabama almost three years ago and who never showed up...)
I didn't want to go balls-to-the-wall, full tilt boogie with the painter guy across the street trying to make a buck, if that was the case. Again, communication would have been a valuable tool. I stopped to listen to him during one of my breaks, but didn't think to appologise for the way I took off on him Sunday night..

Paul, the guitarist (far right) has become a good friend of mine;
"Yeah, San Francisco?...I don't know...you should probably stay around here,"
was his reaction when I told him that I was leaving.

This morning, I woke up about 8 dollars richer than I had started the day with; the second consequetive positive gain, after having come up about 40 bucks Tuesday night.
Tonight will be Thursday night and I intend to "behave" by avoiding Decatur Street and staying within the "6 p.m. until 10 p.m." Bourbon Street Residential Area guidelines..
Frantically Turning Knobs
I really seems like I have doubled my income by adding the harmonica, and in fact I rarely sing much at all now; or play guitar solos -unless they are "double solos" between the harp and guitar. That will hopefully change after I get a microphone. It is good to have a balance between singing and harp playing, but, right now the harp is louder than my singing voice on all but the "loud" songs, like "Have You Ever Seen The Rain," by Creedence Clearwater Revival.
When I switch from harp to vocals, it reminds me of when a band has "technical difficulties" and the soundmen are frantically turning knobs on the board, trying to bring the vocals up LOL!