Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Post Title Goes Here

I  am at the library.
Leslie just left my side.
He had become attached to my side in a manner, this morning, which was such a divergence from the manner which I had become accustomed to and began to recognize and which I was on the defensive for.
Last night I played at the Lilly Spot and made about 24 bucks on a night when only about 24 people walked past me.
One girl gave me 20 dollars; which I didn't recognize as such until after she told me "Put this in your pocket, so you don't lose it," at which point I thought that it was probably more than a single dollar.
She added "stay warm," and "because it's cold" but also "you have a really good sound," which was worth more than 20 dollars in itself.
Does He Sing?
I was either playing "Little Wing" by Jimi Hendrix, or "Do You Want To Know A Secret," by The Beatles at the time, with extended harmonica solos and vocals only when the question materializes and hangs palpably in the air: "Does he sing, or just play harmonica?" 
Earlier, I had jammed with a group, consisting of banjo and guitar and trumpet and trombone, who were across the street from Rouses Market, at the hour of about 9 o' clock.
The guitarist said "Hey, guitar, break that thing out and jam!," to which my response was to lean on a post and listen to them and realize that my acoustic guitar just wouldn't "cut through," and I considered breaking my harmonica out.
They began to do a song which was written (I'm pretty sure, but I'll Goooogle it) by the band called "Yes, Ma'am" called Ragtime Millionaire...
They were 2 sort of hillbilly looking guys and 2 horn players both of whom were black; and from the local brass band school.
It made for a very weird "Ragtime Millionaire," with the trumpet and trombone playing "actual" ragtime over the country blues band playing bluegrass but singing about ragtime; and that is where I stepped in to save the day...
Before that, I had run into Brian Hudson who was on the corner of St. Louis and Royal Streets.
This was a "cold" night (depending upon how one defines that).
It was probably about 49 degrees, but there was a breeze blowing from one direction.
I stayed across the street, mostly, and listened to him play where I was out of the wind.
Then, I headed for Lilly's, with the mantra in my head: "If I play, I'll make something...."
That did come to fruition.
I almost had my mind made up to go under the dock to sleep.
I found a lot of food which was wrapped tightly and would keep for days under the dock with this cold air mass at large.
I was going to head there, put all the food up on the girders after eating what I wanted, and then sleep peacefully and wake up with all of the money which I had made in my pocket.
But...
But, I decided to see if Leslie would answer my (secret) ring on his buzzer and perhaps offer him food and even buy him a couple beers if he should have been in there suffering without.
He answered the bell and was very gracious and I put a lot of sandwiches and bbq rib dinners and salads and stuff in his refrigerator and then he left for the store which is 3 blocks from his house and which stays open all night and which he wasn't aware existed before I pointed it out to him, and soon came back with the news that they were charging exorbitant prices for their liquor.
I had never paid such prices myself and it really seemed as if the proprietor was discriminating against Leslie by jacking the prices up.
My theory was that, during his binge of drinking after he got his money; he might have gone in there and been disruptive in some way; and they were taxing him because of it.
But, no, the prices at The Esplanade Market go up after midnight; up about 25 percent...
I paid the difference and we went back to Leslie




3 comments:

Alex said...

We've been getting down into the 30s in "Silicon Valley" here so ... since weather patterns tend to move eastward, all I can say is, get some warm clothes.

Mixed ragtime and country-western sounds hilarious.

With the cold weather and my not having to busk, busking I have not been doing. Just practicing, working on getting "good" whatever that may be. There's a lot of cool stuff going on in San Jose, which considers itself a "jazz city" for some reason. But all the cool stuff involves cover charges, or the expectation that one is going to buy an expensive drink or two, so my solution is to try to get good enough that I can go to stuff as a player, and avoid all the keep-the-riffraff-out charges that also keep people out of the museums, playhouses, and classical music doings around here.

Dazar Gaidin said...

It's been in the teens up here! Dont think id survive without the van and my little propane heater.

Daniel McKenna said...

I recorded a reading of 8 degrees one morning in Massachusetts; off of my little "stick to the rearview mirror" digital thermometer in my '83 Cavalier;
The windows were so thickly frosted on the inside all the way around; that the sunlight was a dim glow;
I had an army blanket under me; was inside an army (15 degree rated) sleeping bag and had another blanket and afghan over the top of me with a ski mask on my head..those were the days!!