Monday, May 23, 2016

A Night Off From Myself

Historically Slow Weekend

Saturday night, I walked past John Patton, the classical guitarist, where he always plays on Royal Street, one block over from the Lilly Pad.
I was walking past him, rather than having taken a left at the previous corner, because I was to retrieve the milk crate from where it was hidden in the parking lot of the elementary school where both Richard Simmons, Truman Capote, and Lenny Kravitz went, and where Elvis Presley shot a scene used in a movie called something like "Cajun Heat" or "Cajun Fever" or "I'm A Hunk A Hunk Of Cajun Love," I forget what the mule driver tour guide said...
[I looked it up, it was called "King Creole" from 1958; the last movie Elvis made before going into the service and the last one in black and white; and the scene was a schoolyard fight; I think my milk crate was already there and Elvis picks it up and bashes the guy with it].


I think that the muscles in my left upper thigh cramped up on me when I was in the middle of a harmonica solo, while I was was so focused on the notes that I was trying to play that I didn't notice it; it feels like a sort of tendonitis has set in; which it is actually too painful for me to squat down like nor walk like a duck. I am just trying to stretch it out and massage it; and am sitting on a milk crate when I play; so that I'm not in the same exact position that aggravated it.

Discouraging Words

John Patton told me that he had been out there a while and that the tipping had been almost non existent.
This is never a reliable indicator of my own chances of success. Some of my best nights have come after hearing from John, or from Jay the really loud singer (below) that I hadn't missed much; or even that I might as well turn around and go back home and save my effort.
Friday and Saturday nights, both Jay and John were right.
"These People Suck!"
I think I made a total of 34 bucks the whole weekend.
Last year's records for this time of year seem to indicate that it had been slow; but not this slow.
I'm planning upon staying in tonight (Monday).
I need some batteries for my little radio, a can of cat food, maybe some flea stuff for Harold, and some actual rest that I don't wake up feeling depressed out of.

Labor Staffers

I just might need to step away from busking for a while, complete my application with the Labor Staffers place which is just 2 blocks away from the apartment; and then see if I can knock out a few shifts washing dishes or something. I will be taking a pay cut from $17 per hour to $7.50, but that is offset since I can wash dishes for 8 hours but can't seem to busk for more than 3 and a half.
Plus, I won't have the stress of trying to do an incredible job on every dish because I never know if someone is shooting a video of me to put on Youtube.
The downside, of course, is that 8 hours IS a big chunk of one's life and grows proportionally as one ages, I think.
It will give me plenty of time to think as I wash.

No comments: