I am feeling almost back to normal.
I cannot help but think that I stumbled upon some exotic virus, or a combination of things which added up to the "perfect storm" of an ailment; which caused me to have an almost fatal attack of asthma; when I don't even have asthma.
I am chalking it up to a spiritual thing. I was humbled by a higher power; after I had gotten out of control and had sung blasphemous lyrics....
I am listening to Sarah Mclaclan, while writing this.
She is playing tonight, at the Saenger Theater, across the street from the sign spot, where I slept last night.
I repaired to there pretty early last night; being pretty tired; from being up most of the previous night; dying and being saved and then being tossed out of the hospital at daybreak.
I decided to forgo a night of sleeping under the dock, in order to throw a control into an experiment upon my bird allergy theory.
Plus, with my sense of smell heightened, from not having smoked for about a week, the air really was redolent with bird down when I went under to try to retrieve my backpack.
The pack was right where I had left it, laptop still inside; the oil candle which I had lit had burned down to the wick. I couldn't help envisioning it burning out just as I was expiring from lack of oxygen on the rocks below.
The treatment at the hospital had cleared my lungs, and I was back to feeling like I just had a slight cold, but my breathing is back to normal.
Still, I didn't want to hang out too long under there; in case I really was allergic to the bird. I can find out a bit later, after I have recovered a bit; and enjoyed some good health. I ate some instant oatmeal with honey, grabbed my pack, and then got out of there.
Up on the river walk, I took my guitar out as I sat on a bench and played a bit, along with The Dukes of Dixieland, whose music could be heard coming from the Natchez. Everything seemed new and fresh, as if I had been given a new lease on life; and I even appreciated being able to play simple melodies on the guitar. A young boy came over and put a dollar on top of my case. It was a crisp, fresh, brand new dollar bill, folded only once in the middle.
I went to Harrahs Casino and plugged this laptop in at Starbucks in order to finish off yesterdays post about the near death ordeal. Then, I noticed how tired I felt; and headed for the sign spot.
I walked past Sarah McLauclans 2 tour buses which were parked along Canal Street across from the theater at about 11 last night.
It was an ostentatious enough display to make me curious about her music. After all, Neil (friggin') Young only had one brand new shiny bus when he rolled up to the Saenger in Mobile, Alabama, and so I wanted to find out who this Sarah McLachlan is and to hear if her music sounded good enough to justify her having twice as many buses as Neil.
Plus, since I often sleep right across the street from the theater, it is part of my business strategy to brush up on the music of whomever is playing there so I could potentially work the people outside the place, waiting to get in. This worked well, for example, when I made 35 bucks off of playing "Big Ol' Jet Airliner" for a group who were waiting for the gates to open to let them in to see the Steve Miller Band.
Sarah, sings the "In the arms of the angel..." song, and the "I will remember you. Will you remember me?" song, and those two alone warrant two big new shiny buses, as I have heard them countless times on soft-rock FM radio.
I won't be pouring too much energy into preparing to play her songs out front, because of the mismatching of her high, lilting voice with mine; but I might learn one line, such as "I will remember you...Will you remember me?" and the chords which go under it. Then, I can walk past with my guitar out and probably make a few bucks off of just that 10 seconds of music; smiling and saying something like: "I need to learn that song, that's a good song...." That is about enough for the attention span of most people these days....
I cannot help but think that I stumbled upon some exotic virus, or a combination of things which added up to the "perfect storm" of an ailment; which caused me to have an almost fatal attack of asthma; when I don't even have asthma.
I am chalking it up to a spiritual thing. I was humbled by a higher power; after I had gotten out of control and had sung blasphemous lyrics....
She is playing tonight, at the Saenger Theater, across the street from the sign spot, where I slept last night.
I repaired to there pretty early last night; being pretty tired; from being up most of the previous night; dying and being saved and then being tossed out of the hospital at daybreak.
I decided to forgo a night of sleeping under the dock, in order to throw a control into an experiment upon my bird allergy theory.
Plus, with my sense of smell heightened, from not having smoked for about a week, the air really was redolent with bird down when I went under to try to retrieve my backpack.
The pack was right where I had left it, laptop still inside; the oil candle which I had lit had burned down to the wick. I couldn't help envisioning it burning out just as I was expiring from lack of oxygen on the rocks below.
The treatment at the hospital had cleared my lungs, and I was back to feeling like I just had a slight cold, but my breathing is back to normal.
Still, I didn't want to hang out too long under there; in case I really was allergic to the bird. I can find out a bit later, after I have recovered a bit; and enjoyed some good health. I ate some instant oatmeal with honey, grabbed my pack, and then got out of there.
Up on the river walk, I took my guitar out as I sat on a bench and played a bit, along with The Dukes of Dixieland, whose music could be heard coming from the Natchez. Everything seemed new and fresh, as if I had been given a new lease on life; and I even appreciated being able to play simple melodies on the guitar. A young boy came over and put a dollar on top of my case. It was a crisp, fresh, brand new dollar bill, folded only once in the middle.
I went to Harrahs Casino and plugged this laptop in at Starbucks in order to finish off yesterdays post about the near death ordeal. Then, I noticed how tired I felt; and headed for the sign spot.
I walked past Sarah McLauclans 2 tour buses which were parked along Canal Street across from the theater at about 11 last night.
It was an ostentatious enough display to make me curious about her music. After all, Neil (friggin') Young only had one brand new shiny bus when he rolled up to the Saenger in Mobile, Alabama, and so I wanted to find out who this Sarah McLachlan is and to hear if her music sounded good enough to justify her having twice as many buses as Neil.
Plus, since I often sleep right across the street from the theater, it is part of my business strategy to brush up on the music of whomever is playing there so I could potentially work the people outside the place, waiting to get in. This worked well, for example, when I made 35 bucks off of playing "Big Ol' Jet Airliner" for a group who were waiting for the gates to open to let them in to see the Steve Miller Band.
Sarah, sings the "In the arms of the angel..." song, and the "I will remember you. Will you remember me?" song, and those two alone warrant two big new shiny buses, as I have heard them countless times on soft-rock FM radio.
I won't be pouring too much energy into preparing to play her songs out front, because of the mismatching of her high, lilting voice with mine; but I might learn one line, such as "I will remember you...Will you remember me?" and the chords which go under it. Then, I can walk past with my guitar out and probably make a few bucks off of just that 10 seconds of music; smiling and saying something like: "I need to learn that song, that's a good song...." That is about enough for the attention span of most people these days....
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