Sunday, July 12, 2015

Two Headed Baby Is Gay!

Raw Papaya
I am about to run to the market to buy, amongst other things, a papaya. They are on sale at the Ideal Market.
The trees are fascinating. Seems like the fruit
would give a man a lot of courage...
I was feeling pretty good Saturday night, before drinking the cheap Skol Vodka, and then having a flare up of eczema, which I blame on it. The last time it flared up, I was drinking Skol Vodka -mixed with nice healthy grape juice, but Skol Vodka still.
I think it irritates my brain stem, that Skol...
Raw Demos
I might try to work on a song or two, on this Sunday.
I have decided to stop trying to make my songs sound like they were done in a professional studio, because the effort involved in that is too time consuming. 
I can always append: "The raw demos" after the title of the CD, giving me more leeway in choosing material that I think came out well; even though there might be the "slight" hum of the air conditioner in the background.
It is Sunday morning -actual morning, and not the late afternoon time that I have been starting my (waking) days at lately.
I am typing this in my room, after having slept through Saturday night; and will transfer it via data stick to the computer room, where I will post it, after slapping a photo or two on it.
I had a 12 Dollar Wednesday night, and then an 8 dollar Thursday night, and achieved the status of "flat broke," sometime Friday before going out to busk.
30 Dollar Friday offset by reckless spending.
Friday "morning" I was up in the evening at around sundown.

I retrieved my solar powered light from the grassy area around the parking lot, where it had received a good charge and had been rinsed off by the brief downpour which has been pretty much a daily occurance for the past week.

In fact, the weather forecast for the next 5 day period has been the same icon of the sun, with the same 20% chance of rain, and the same high and low temperatures, varied by a degree, here and there, perhaps to prove that it is not a mis-print. How they can foresee that, 4 days ahead, the high temperature will be 90 degrees, but that 5 days from now it will only reach 89, seems to me, an inexact science.

It was about 6 PM., 2 hours before the computer room would be closing.

I must somehow juggle my schedule to fall in line with the computer rooms, or this blog will continue to suffer as it has the past couple of weeks.

I spent 20 minutes cleaning up my kitchen, which told a story; through dirty dishes and scraps of fruits and vegetables on the counter; of my having come home late Thursday and eaten tuna fish, washed down with the juices of carrot, spinach, brocoli, apple, peach, lemon and dash of jalepeno pepper.

I had made only about 8 bucks Thursday, and had spent it all on wine and weed, and wound up walking home with 60 cents, and a "nickel" of weed, in my pocket. I was thinking about the nickel of weed as I set out walking at around 1:30 AM.

I didn't wan't to try to skeeze the 65 cents that I was short of the trolley fare for the primary reason that it would make a hypocrite out of me; given all of my vitriol (some of which has found its way onto the pages of this blog) against skeezers in general.

One of my biggest peeves against the skeezers is that they make it hard for the person who actually IS "just trying to get home" to get home; due to the preponderance of that line, used disingenuously, by what I call "trolley skeezers." They are the ones, of course, who skeeze at the trolley stops; the ones not too far from the liquor store.

There is actually a guy who rides the trolley back and forth the length of its run, observing which passengers utilise an all-day pass. He will inquire of them if their next stop will be their last, and hence, will they no longer be needing their all-day pass, which is good until 4 AM. He will collect the all-day passes of the people who no longer need them, who will surrender them to him; and then will re-sell them a a discount to people about to board the thing.

He has regular clients -people who buy a pass each day; use it to conduct their business; and then return home well before the thing expires. He has learned to recognize these individuals; and probably has an internal itinerary of all kinds of different folks' schedules. He is a trolley "hustler," and stands head and shoulders above trolley skeezers, in my esteem.

As such, I chose to walk for a half hour, rather than become the umpteenth person to ask anybody for spare change "to get home." The guitar on my back would also open the door for any of them to barb me with something like: "You must not be very good on that thing, if you didn't even make your trolley fare!"

"I played well enough for a bottle of Wild Irish Rose and a 5 dollar sack of weed, sir!"

I made a cup of coffee, then went to the computer room, where I hastily (as has been my mode the past few weeks) did yesterday's blog post.
My Last Penny
Then, I ran to the Rouses Market on Carrolton Street where, along with picking up the fruits and vegetables that I would juice, I dumped a bag full of pennies into their change machine and received $2.89. One of those 289 was my "last penny."

I stopped for a half pint of Skol vodka, halfway along the walk into the Quarter, resuming the journey with it and 14 cents on me. "Skeeze me now," I thought as I passed the Big Easy Market skeezers, and then the Claiborne Bridge skeezers.

In anticipation of this financial condition, I had grabbed the three 1,000 peso notes of Colombian money that I had thrown in a drawer after I was tipped them by somebody who may have been earnestly trying to tip me about 2  bucks, because, through an inquiry at Harrah's Casino, I later determined that that was what they are worth. The casino wasn't redeeming Colombian money then, though, due to its "volatility." I would use them to seed my tiposaurus jar, since their dimentions and their shade of green are close enough in the dark, to be effective.

In one of my dreams last night, there was a newspaper with a review of my music in it; and I was telling someone that I didn't place much credence in that particular publication and showed him the front page headline:

"Two Headed Baby Is Gay!!" as proof. Then I woke up.

The Unskeezable Skeeze

I got to the Quarter to find that David the waterjug player and the promise of a gulp off of whatever he was drinking; were nowhere in sight.

I pressed on; sipping upon an Arizona Energy drink spiked with my last half pint of vodka on earth, towards the Lilly Pad. I was telling myself that 13 dollars would be a satisfactory take upon this very hot and humid night.

There, in front of the Gallerie De Art Francais, where Balil works, was none other than Brian Hudson, whom I didn't immedately recognize, as he was standing there talking to a guy and wearing a baseball cap; an accessory which I had never seen him in.

The guy also looked like a tourist; and I somehow would more expect to see Brian talking to a musician.

I went over and greeted him; and nodded to the guy whom he was talking to; I think I shook his hand.

I happened to mention, when the topic of "career" came up, that I was on my way out to busk and would be using the foreign money to seed my case.

"I stayed in and watched movies for a couple of days. Now I have to catch up."

I produced the money from my back pocket.

"Is that Colombian money?!? I'm going to Colombia!" asked, and then said, Brian.
I was certainly willing to part with a couple of the 1,000 Peso bills, as they would become valuable to him at his destination, but I quickly threw in the caveat about my having checked their worth, and said "Maybe money goes a lot further in Colombia..."

I have been buying guitar strings off Brian for 2 bucks a set, and it seemed fated that, since I had a couple bucks Colombian, useful to me only as seed money, and he had a set of strings handy; we would make a trade, since he was going to Colombia soon.

I like coincidences; as I think they are Gods way of hinting to us that our lives have meaning; without doing it in a way that would freak us out, like having a burning bush strike up a conversation. What are the odds that on a day that you have Colombian money, which I hadn't touched in 6 months, in your back pocket; you will run into a friend who is going to Colombia in the near future?

As Brian was going to his equipment cart for the strings, out of the gallery came the always well dressed Balil, who handed me a brand new set of guitar strings.

I arrived at the Lilly Pad and played just well enough to make 30 bucks over the coarse of a couple hours; the bulk of that coming from a pretty openly gay guy who was very skinny and dressed very effeminately and who stopped in front of me, after I had stopped playing and who began to fish through what looked like a considerable wad of money stuffed into a little effeminate looking purse.

"This is the smallest that I have," he said almost apologetically, as he placed a 20 in the tiposaurus jar.

Maybe he had heard me from up the street.

Making It Hard On Myself

I consumed an Angry Orchard hard cider during a short break, then, after playing some more, headed home.

A stop at The Unique Boutique afforded me the opportunity to run in there for cigarettes and a Mikes Hard Lemonade.

I had just cracked open the drink and rounded the corner from Royal Street onto Canal Street when I espied David the waterjug player, who just happened to be in the company of one of the fine weed salesman who work in the Quarter.

I had just concluded a 10 dollar business deal with said personage when the ringing of the trolleys bell signaled that it had come to save me from totally wiping myself out financially.
Early Saturday morning, I arrived at the apartment and laid an empty can of hard lemonade, $9.63, an almost full pack of cigarettes, a sack of weed and 2 brand new sets of guitar strings on my coffee table and then laid myself down in a vain attempt to sleep.

My allergies were bothering me as I tossed and turned, and by the time I had fallen asleep, it was almost busking time. A time I decided to just sleep through.

Looking back at the previous day, it was only the consumption of the cheap Skol vodka that stands out from anything else that I had done differently; and therefore I suspect it is the culprit behind the eczema flare up which basically what kept me home Saturday night.

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