Monday, March 3, 2014

A Time To Sow

45 Dollar Sunday
I woke up this (Monday) morning and put $1.35 in the "3%" Jar-to-never-be-tapped-into-for-at-least-a-long-time, and then came here to the Royal Blend...
But, back to yesterday...
I stayed under the dock until almost 3 p.m., Sunday, finishing off my jar of instant coffee,
Gig Bag Next...
and adding 75 cents to the "3%" jar under my "mattress."
Emerging, I went to Walgreens, where I spent my food card down to $5.28 by taking a dollar off of it and supplementing with cash for the purchase of an Amp Energy drink, which I then spiked with a $2.50 half pint of vodka.
This was a beautiful weather day, and after making yesterdays post, I left The Royal Blend after they closed at 6 p.m., and was probably at the Lilly spot a half hour later, as the sun was setting and I put 3 new batteries in my spotlight, hung it in the vines and began to play.
A man came along with a small blond haired girl of about 4 years old in tow; and introduced me to the little girl. I forget her name, but he remembered mine "This is Daniel. He plays music!"
The little girl wasn't impressed, despite my groping for the melody to "Itsy Bitsy Spider," but I was once again chagrined by my own almost "mental condition" whereby I am terrible with faces.
I think the man is the same one whose relatives visited last August from somewhere up north, the 2 children of which (a girl of about 8 and a boy of about 7) became fascinated with me and stood and listened in rapt amazement. That guy told me that the kids were looking forward to hearing me again upon their next foray into The Big Easy, maybe next summer...
I don't know how I have curried the favor of so many of the locals nearby where I play.
The piano player in Lafitts Blacksmith Tavern gives me a thumbs up whenever I enter that candle-lit establishment to use the restroom, or, if he is in the middle of a song; he gives a nod of his head.
I am constantly walking past people who say "Hello, Daniel" whom I don't recognize..
I need to work on the all-important "people skill" of remembering faces, if not names...
I played off and on and amassed 45 dollars, by my calculations.
Every time I began to venture towards the beer store, I found drinks sitting almost untouched in various places and wound up returning to the spot, losing only a couple minutes of time.
I played until well past 3 a.m.
The sun was coming up and I raced against it as I cooked food over charcoal briquettes in the morning.
I didn't want the sunrise to reveal my smoke; however subdued it was...
Now, it is Monday. The temperature has dropped, but not too drastically; still uncomfortable at about 55 degrees and windy...
Tomorrow is Fat Tuesday and "a time to sow."

3 comments:

  1. I have that same problem with faces, and in my own case I trace it to not having usable vision until I was about 5 and after the 2nd of (I don't remember) eye operations. Also, I am still nearsighted in my better eye and didn't get glasses until I was about 17 or 18.

    But this is funny, I was leaving the downtown library and some black dude started talking to me like he knew me, and I talked along, and about halfway through it was pretty obvious that he thought I was someone else, and then *he* was just talking along.

    You get a chance to watch the HBO series "Treme"? What do you think of it?

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  2. I am focusing upon what I want to say and how to say it and looking inward (to the center of my mind, to quote Ted Nugent) maybe trying to compose something witty or otherwise try to belie my skeezer-ish appearance with a display of intelligence -which is kind of the way that I have made it through life, but I digress- and I am not even seeing their physical features but rather gauging their reactions to me...I guess, maybe I'm a skeezer, hmm...
    But that is why I think I am terrible with faces; maybe I should start pretending that I am going to have to write a 5,000 word essay describing the face of everyone I meet that night...
    And, on the dude that thought you were some other dude...
    When the dude realized that you weren't the dude he knew and simultaneously realized that you were still talking "along" did he think you were a third guy who knew him, yet one that he couldn't place?
    He might weigh the odds and bet that you had been skeezin' him LOL!!
    I think you're lucky that he didn't pop a cap in you LOL!!!
    I would have immediately lead with something like: "I black out a lot, because I'm up so late...I can't even remember where I met you..."
    Maybe, ironically, he actually did know you; but you have forgotten...
    On Treme: I am thinking of hacking into the AC wires under the dock which go to the Coke machine et. al. and hooking up a wide screen TV and then I can check out the HBO thing....(I will grind rocks together in water and produce "Indian" paint to color the back of the appliance so that it blends in so that the Natchez crew won't notice it)

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  3. Better to watch Treme in the form of re-runs online or buy the DVDs like I did, then just watch on the laptop.

    *most* black ppl out here don't spontaneously pop caps in people's asses, (no guarantees in Oakland though). I think it comes down to, a lot of white ppl look alike.

    I guess the cost of living as a homeless skeezer is the same everywhere, but to me, I have to admit, the rents in NOLA look awfully tempting. If the trumpet player who plays songs straight and square right out of the book can make the kind of money you say he does, it seems like the kind of place I ought to at least visit.

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