Nike Air

I Sit In Shermans Studio Thinking "I Need To Check On Howard..."

Did someone once say "Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?"
I'm Already Jumping Higher

Last night, I was dropped off by Sherman at the boarded up building, where Howard was laying in his regular spot with an empty bag of Cheetoz (he's back to Cheetoz; I guess he ultimately looked at the Doritos that he had switched to and decided "this just isn't me; I'm leading a false life.." and switched back), an empty Pepsi bottle, the current novel that he's using to dissociate with, and a 24 oz. can of Icehouse beer; drank down to about an inch from the bottom.

I went across the street for a 24 oz. beer of my own and, sitting out front was a white guy (a bit unusual in itself) who was selling a "brand new" pair of Nike Air sneakers for 10 dollars.

He said that he had "payed" 80 bucks for them, but was in a financial crisis.

I had just been telling Sherman during the ride, that I needed to set bits of money aside here and there for expenses that periodically come up. I mentioned my sneakers, which are starting to come apart as a prime example of something that I would eventually need "40 bucks" to replace. And there was the kid, right across the street from the boarded up building selling sneakers that are my size.

I parted with the 10 dollars, after agonizing for what seemed a half hour -inspecting the holes in the Reboks that I had on; calculating the amount of money in my pocket; wishing that I busked by sitting on a milk crate or standing up, instead of destroying every piece of footwear that I have owned in the past 5 years by sitting "Indian style."

I need to Google the things to see if they are actually 80 dollar sneakers, although I doubt that the kid paid full price -something about the way he hurried off with the 10 dollars in the direction of where crack is sold cast aspersions on his character...

As Howard Snored Away

I got back to the building, cracked open my beer, and as I sipped it I wondered why the hell I came back to Scotlandville.

The power has been shut off at the building and so it is not only no longer a recording studio, it is no longer a place for listening to music, reading electronic books, writing or studying computer programming.

All that might change, though if I get the Samsung laptop working and it has a decent battery in it that might give me 5 hours of "life" or so.

At that point, I will be able to find a quiet place to record music, or a place with interesting acoustics, like inside a 10 foot in diameter pipe, like one that is in Saint Augustine and is made out of metal.
No Uncertain Terms
Speaking of Saint Augustine, I found this picture of my old friend, Larry, taken apparently around the time when I was in that historical city that did everything that it could to run the buskers and homeless people in general away.
I had a blog at that time, but lost almost 2 years worth of posts after I used an infected computer at the homeless shelter to post from... otherwise, Larry would be a familiar character to readers.
I can tell that he is angry at the guy who dresses his dog up and sells pictures of it, for sitting down right next to where he is trying to busk. In fact, Larry usually smokes his cigarette like that when he is just getting ready to say something to someone, and is composing some "no uncertain terms."  

I am studying hard out of "Mastering The Guitar" Book 1B by Mel Bay Publications, and my progress has been exponential.

I am attacking it from the first page towards the back, and from the last page, towards the front.