Daring, Broad-Daylight Busking

Monday, I decided to leave Shermans apartment, as I wasn't getting anything done there of importance.

Sunday, I slept until past noon, having been up busking until almost 3 in the morning and then having waited for the hot dog cart guy to sell me a hot dog, which he never did.

Sunday, 3 a.m.

He was in an animated discussion with Gabriel about science fiction books when I approached and asked him if he had any hot dogs left.

He told me that he did, but then turned back to Gabriel and continued to talk to him.

Connie Willis

Had someone from the general public, i.e. a "customer" asked him for a hot dog, I'm sure that he would immediately have told Gabriel "Just a second," or held up the universal symbol of one finger, and gone to his cart, prepared a hot dog, asked the customer if he wanted chili or cheese, etc. and then gone back to Gabriel and asked "Where were we?"

After about 20 minutes of listening to their mildly fascinating discussion of the works of Shirley Jackson and Connie Willis, I decided that maybe I really didn't want a hot dog -not the most "healthy" food item- and walked off.

I was hungry, yet also aware that spending 3 dollars on one hot dog (when I could buy a dozen for half that and cook them behind the boarded up building) was going to something that I would regret should I ever run out of money in the future and wish that I had the 3 bucks back.

Gabriel has some kind of job somewhere and owns a vehicle, which he drives a considerable distance in order to busk on the weekends, adding about 100 dollars to his weekly income.

Garrison Keillor

He dresses in what I would call "Garrison Keillor" fashion.

He wears a shirt and a tie, yet it is a flamboyantly printed shirt and the tie is of a color that matches the colors of the shirt so well and hangs at an angle, pointed toward his hip, that one must look pretty closely to determine if he is actually wearing a tie or if there is the image of a tie printed in the pattern on the shirt.

This fashion statement sits atop slacks and canvas sneakers below, and a baseball cap above, and seems to "work" for him.

I suppose my "look" works for me at least as well, because, when we compare notes it seems that we earn about equal amounts through our busking endeavors.

Friday night, when I took a break a little after midnight to run to the store and back, Gabriel had moved into my spot across from the hot dog cart, like a hermit crab.

He relinquished it back to me when I returned.

I asked him why he was always playing at what I assumed was "his" spot on the opposite corner of the same building "if you like the acoustics better here..."

He explained that, years ago, when he first started busking in downtown Baton Rouge, the police had relegated him to that spot, saying that he was only allowed to play there.

"Then, when I saw you playing here and the cops not bothering you, I figured that I could play here, too. The acoustics are better and it helps me not strain my voice as much."

After I had finished playing that night and walked across the street to the hot dog cart, where Gabriel was talking to the hot dog cart guy; the hot dog cart guy took my arrival as an apparent cue to reach into his pocket and hand Gabriel a couple dollars, telling him "That was awesome. I see you playing all the time, but I could never hear you. With you right across the street, I could hear you loud and clear and you sounded great."

Gabriel is a fine musician and he has a repertoire of loud songs, or songs that can be done loudly, such as The Smashing Pumpkins song that has the chorus "Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage!!" That part can be sung at the top of ones lungs, and thus, has value as a busking song.

I have to complement Gabriel on his repertoire, as, most of it can be sung at the top of one's lungs. His selections are generally about 20 years more recent than mine, and he performs the works of artists that are recognizable by the 20-something crowd; of which class the hot dog cart guy is a member.

That being said; I still match Gabriel money-wise as I sit (he stands) and sing stuff like "Tears In Heaven," the Eric Clapton song, which is older and quieter than anything you might hear on the opposite corner of the building; or in my spot across from the cart on nights like Saturday when I don't arrive before him.

I think that it was rude of the hot dog cart guy to choose the time that I showed up to hand Gabriel a couple bucks and complement him, when he had had time to do that while I was still finishing my set up across the street.

"Am I that much worse than Gabriel?" I asked the hot dog cart guy after Gabriel had left.

"I can never hear you," he said.

There seemed to be some other undertones in the way he said it, and then walked away towards his cart. And, I recall asking him after the first time I ever played there, if he could hear me and he told me that the sound came right across the street and that he could.

Sherman surmised that it was because I had been seen associating with him.

Sherman (who is in his mid 40's, by the way) is apparently a well known figure in the downtown area of Baton Rouge.

He gets a "crazy check" which is why he "gets" to hang out in his apartment all day and never worry about punching a time clock anywhere.

He said that the checks started coming after he had trashed his mothers house over something that was said or done, and then was committed to a mental hospital for a brief period, where it was determined that he qualified for a check from the government every month.

Garth Brooks, What's It Going To Be?

Sherman has signs posted all around the downtown area which read "What's it going to be, Garth Brooks?" or something similar.

As much as I could glean from asking him about it was that; he worked on Garth Brooks stage crew about 15 years ago, and at about that time his girlfriend "disappeared."

He then joined a band and went to Austin, Texas with the band; but then became a victim of "an international blacklist," which prevents him, to this day even, from ever working anywhere.

Meathead Messing With Head

He claims that Rob Reiner (Garth Brooks manager, or the owner of Mr. Brooks "production company" or something, according to Sherman) is behind the blackballing.

Sherman has repeatedly said that he is posting the signs up, trying to get Garth to come to town to answer "just one question" that Sherman has for him. He hasn't told me what the question is and I haven't asked him.

I guess people that open their homes to you and let you use their equipment to record music and give you rides to the music store and Wal-Mart don't ever come without at least a little bit of "baggage." 

You don't really want to "look a gifthorse in the mouth" by "stirring the pot" too much, I suppose.

Sherman seems to have issues surrounding trust. He has mentioned that he looks at me "with sandy eyes" (I think was the phrase) because I have seen all his valuable equipment and he has to worry about me coming and stealing it sometime.

There is nothing that I can tell him to reassure him that I won't, because "Don't worry, I won't" is exactly what a thief might say to "reassure" someone. He will just have to judge my character as time goes along.

He had a habit of following me into his kitchen every time I went in there to rinse a cup out in the sink, or to put some sugar in my tea etc.

But, I could feel my "welcome" taking a little bit of wear and tear by Monday. I wanted to leave while our relationship was still good and unstrained, so I did.

At least he invited me to come back the next time I am in town...

Desperately Seeking Susan

I am going to New Orleans, even though my life is worthless there, and I will be on the lam.

I purposely took the rock and roll fake book here with me, knowing that I would have to go back to the Big Easy to return it to the library, and that I would have a chance to see Sue in doing so.

I will probably try to do a couple of daring broad-daylight busking sessions on Decatur Street, hoping that the cops working that shift will be different from the ones that ticketed me the last time I was there and who might have checked some kind of list of newly active warrants at the station and might have a picture of me in their minds, eating a dough nut.

I have perhaps one more week to stick around Baton Rouge so that I can avail myself to the assistance of the people at the One Stop Homelessness Center in obtaining a picture ID.

Then, I will take the train to check out Shreveport.

Howard had mentioned wanting to get to a cooler climate before the hottest part of the year was upon us, but, within a month we will be on the other side of that season, looking forward to a cooling trend right here.

Maybe A Lighthouse

I DO want to travel, though and maybe even settle down somewhere (i.e. stay there for more than one year) and I have chosen the Bay Area near San Francisco, as I have felt destined for there, probably since I was 5 years old, in some way; when I started to envision my dream-house as being on a cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean and with a huge orchard of fruit trees and maybe a lighthouse...if I can busk up enough money to buy one....

As far as ever visiting my friends and family in Massachusetts, I feel that I have better prospects of coming up with the money in the Bay Area required to fly all the way across the country than I do in the New Orleans area of coming up with the money to fly half way across the country...