Thursday, February 27, 2014

Step For Step

Bottom Of The Jar
Wednesday, I woke up in the cold with 37 cents on me. It rained for most of the day.
I read for a while, wrapped in my sleeping bag and drinking cold instant coffee mixed with honey which struggled to melt; and finished my cigarettes.
I made my deposit of 35 cents into the jar; waited for the rain to let up and for the Natchez to launch on its 4 p.m. voyage and then hit the Quarter with 2 cents on me, and no cigarettes.
I found a dime on the sidewalk immediately.
Busking Below 50?
It was just barely warm enough then to try to busk; but the Lilly spot was pretty deserted, with everybody "uptown" to watch the Mardi Gras parades, apparently.
I found a half a daiquiri, which I drank on my way to Rouses Market, where I learned that the girl who would trade me beer for money off my food card was not working.
I came here to The Royal Blend, hoping to use this computer to blog without buying anything, and learned that its Internet connection was "down," perhaps due to the high winds and rain.
I went to Starbucks, where I spent my gift card down to 6 dollars with the purchase of a coffee, which I sipped while charging one of my phones (the one that I usually only use to communicate with Lilly).
One of the wires had snapped off of the charger for my Android phone, rendering it (the charger) useless.
That is the phone which I used to use to post current pictures here.
I then decided to just walk along the parade route and scavenge.
I had a good amount of food (mixed berry fruit cups, bagged apple slices, a chef salad with roast beef, a carton of baked chicken, a bag of assorted lunch meats, and most notably a huge basting tin of half cooked bacon with portobello musrooms and herbs) all "refrigerated."
It was half cooked because the security guys had smelled my smoke early Wednesday morning, though they couldn't see it through the fog.
All they did was one of them yell "I smell fire!" at which point I doused the flames.
Fortunately, I had already eaten the first tin of pasta with all kinds of stuff added to it which I had fully cooked.
As I walked the parade route, snatching up half full bottles of beer (and feeling like I was doing it behind peoples backs as they were focusing upon catching beads and stuffed animals) I began to loosen up and become bolder; and more picky; no more Budweiser, only Abita or Dixie Lager.
I was carrying my guitar without a case, still, and had to be careful about maneuvering it between people and things.
I got to Lee Circle and went into a Portolet to consume the last of my bud.
Emerging from there, I felt more of a sense of connectedness with the people around me. I wondered if pot might indeed be medicinal for people beset with feelings of disconnectedness with society.
As soon as I crossed the street, a young black man who was with a young black girl said "Play something."
"Anything?" I asked kind of rhetorically, as I was taking the guitar off my shoulder.
I played "Dancing In The Moonlight," by King Harvest until the next approaching float drowned me out.
He held out some money.
I held out my hand, into which he put a dollar.
I looked him in the eye and thanked him sincerely. Enough, I guess, that he gave me an additional 2 dollars and a quarter which he had been hiding in his palm; perhaps holding it back until he saw how appreciative I was over the single bill.
I then had $3.37.
I actually watched some of the parades until about 11 p.m. when I bought an unopened, unsipped off of beer and then made my way back to the dock, deciding that I had enough cold food to get through the night without lighting a fire and that the bacon (of which I had found a 5 pound box of) would keep for another day.
It is Thursday and about 5 degrees warmer. Probably not warm enough to play, and so I will probably repeat last evening step for step...
I made my 35 cent deposit this morning, at least....

1 comment:

  1. This last weekend I went and saw some jazz musicians in downtown San Jose, actually some really good players. And hung out with some street musicians, there are maybe 3 in the whole "silicon valley" area lol. Tonight I saw "the guy who plays trumpet at all the San Jose Sharks games" and ..... yeah he's OK but I'd hang myself if all I could do was get "as good as him" I have much higher aims.

    I was busking before, and was making $5-$10 an hour, which is OK I guess because I was basically just being out there, playing any old crappy thing. But now I want to sound good enough that if *myself* walked by, I'd tip me.

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