Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Wild Howard Chase

I am going to go across the river to look for Howard, so that we might watch the Superbowl together at Filipe's Taqueria; and then he can crash at my place that night.
"Is this me?"

I have about 3 more hours of sunlight. If I don't find him in his tent (and I will recognize his tent as being the one -if there are more than one- with the empty Pepsi 2 liter bottles; the empty Cheetos type bags; and the books everywhere; most of them already read; some not yet) I will leave him a note.
Then, I might check the library. 
No Sign Of Howard
Saturday, I got an all day bus pass; and was on the Algiers bus (after waiting almost an hour for it) and was trudging along the path, which winds its way along the Mississippi River past tents and campsites, one of which used to be Howards.
I was pretty concerned to see that none of the tents were strewn about with empty Pepsi bottles; empty Cheetos bags and books. In other words, there was no sign of Howard.
One guy whom I ran into told me that Howard's tent was the last one at the far end of the woods; then added that I had better not mess with Howard.
I should have told him who I was, in hopes that Howard might have mentioned me; and then the guy might have given me more details; such as Howards "routine," as it is played out nowadays; to include his expected time of return. "...he always hits McDonalds on Saturdays at 3:30 PM, and then is back here by 5.." type of thing.

Super Sunday

I came into the Quarter with just enough time to go straight to Filippis Taqueria for the opening kickoff of Superbowl 49.
I had chosen that location on the chance that Howard might have decided to catch at least the first half of the game there, before ferrying back across the river.
He wasn't there, and I watched the first half; but didn't spend any money; feeling kind of bad about that. Filippis is one of the few places that doesn't bug one about having a drink in front of them at all times.
I had about 36 dollars upon waking up after the $41.70 Friday night, and then the run-around, looking for Howard -but had spent money on the street car; and then on a sack of weed (and, of course, they only had the "gas," on this Super Sunday; which they want 20 bucks a gram for from the tourists, but I was able to get a half gram for 8 bucks) and a bottle of sherry; some blunt wraps; and I was down to around 20 bucks; as I went into the land of $5.75 margueritas.
At halftime; I moved to Harrahs Casino, where I was told that the 5,000 pesos from Colombia*, which I had gotten along with the rest of my tips Friday, were on the list of currencies that they were not exchanging at this particular time.
I suppose the government there could be overthrown at any moment; the way they see it.
* Note: The 5,000 Colombian pesos are worth 2 dollars and 10 cents, as of this writing.

Now, I am at Starbucks, on this Tuesday night, which is just barely warm enough to busk on.
I ran myself flat broke last night; probably in an effort to force myself to quit drinking; with the purchase of one last Miller beer at 2 AM, which had me up most of the morning, twitching and having tortured thoughts about past evils; both real and imagined.

I got up and had the apple cider vinegar mixed with honey in warm water; the tablespoon of molasses, and the tablespoon of cayenne pepper in cold spring water; and the gulp of sesame oil; which is part of the Doctor Christopher 3 day fast/cleanse and mucous free diet; hoping to put myself in the mind of cleaning up again.

I just haven't been getting enough done on my CD project; having lower energy levels; and feeling that I should run to the store for a bottle of wine to sip upon while I record.

Some of the recordings; I have deleted after listening back in the morning; and realizing that I must have been pretty drunk (to have forgotten half the lyrics, for example) when I recorded them.

So, here is another "day 1" of sobriety; and if I don't make anything when I go out in a few minutes, until about midnight (temperature permitting) I will be faced with walking the 2 miles back to the apartment, flat broke, but sober, and one day away from getting $194 on my food card.
"Things could always be worse," I've heard it said.

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