Monday, July 25, 2016

Fake Sweat Machine

Lilly (artist's conception and rendition)
  • Celebrating 4 Years At The Lilly Pad
  • Corn Free Experiment Continues
 ݢ unday, I went into the Quarter in the afternoon.

The sun was still over the tops of the trees, and it was warm and slightly; pleasantly; humid -just enough to keep the lungs moist; as I made my way to the store to buy a Monster Energy drink of the kind that has no high fructose or any other corn, syrup.

My health continues to improve, and chronic aches are continuing to abate, and I find myself not holding my breath and all tensed up as much; as I extend my corn free diet.

I went and bought strings for 5 dollars at the French Market, and then met my herb guy at a coffee place, before a large bottle of espresso and coconut milk completed my accoutrements and I repaired to the Lilly Pad where I re-strung and tuned the instrument; sampled the bud that I had paid 10 dollars for a half a gram of; and began to play. In broad daylight; I couldn't help being constantly aware of. ...they can actually see my facial expressions....

After the first hour, I was thinking: "This is why I don't play here during the day," but then after about 6 people had thrown dollar bills during the second hour, I decided to make that my last.

I was back home at about the time that I usually leave the place for work.

The weed definitely made me feel drained and out of ideas, and as if I had said my piece, laid it on the line, left it on the stage, poured my heart out, thrown down, and given it my all; after just those 2 hours of playing.

The scarcity of tourists made the decision easier. I felt like that was giving me an excuse for leaving work early.

The brand new strings sounded great and I really think that some of the 6 people who threw me a dollar were doing so when they might not "normally" have; because I was sweating.

If you can get a drop of perspiration to fly off your forehead in the middle of a harmonica riff; that is good. (note to self; work on plans for fake sweat machine, using tiny tubes along hairline...)
I had spent my food stamp money down to nothing with the purchase of the coffee and coconut milk drink, a cannister of oatmeal, a gallon of water and a brick of coffee upon this Sunday, which falls 11 days before the next shipment of food arrives digitally.
This is a familiar spot for me.
I wish I hadn't gotten the munchies and tore up about a half dozen mangoes last night.
Mangoes are now 2 for 88 cents at a place called Canseco's Market, which is another Latino market and is probably about a 15 minute bike ride for me.
It is Monday afternoon and I have 6 dollars on my coffee table, after having had 26 dollars there 3 days ago.
Funny Story
The guy (right) who walks around in that costume as "the creature," I have gotten to know from seeing him around these past 4 years.

It wasn't until I chanced upon him once when he was taking his costume off that I realized that I already knew him as a person, but never had known that he was also the creature.
He owns a very nondescript white van, with very darkly tinted windows.

I had suggested that he turn it into a "creature-mobile," with a paper machete likeness of its head on the roof; but he said that he prefers to remain low key.

His aim is to make it look like there is nothing worth stealing in the van, which he also sleeps in, and the advertisements for the creature would run counter to that goal.

One night there were some young black kids shining a flashlight through the dark tinted windows and looking in.

He grabbed his costumes head and slipped it on, before crawling closer to the window and, after meeting a flashlights beam with a close up of it with his eyes moving; was able to scare them so much that they had run away.
Kind of like on the Three Stooges, when the stock characters that they used to cast to portray black stereotypes; saw a ghost.

3 comments:

  1. I've seen those old movies, apparently one of the old stereotypes about black people is they were very superstitious; I remember a movie where the black characters wouldn't go places they were supposed to etc because they were terrified of "ghost'es".

    A balloon-twister in Santa Cruz I know/knew used to live in a plain-Jane Toyota van, and also had a place to stay, so he said ... the van was his backup. But I think there's something about being a balloon-twister in Santa Cruz that makes a person into a crackhead because there are two balloon-twisters there who used to be kinda normal and now well, they're in all probability, crackheads.

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  2. They were probably high on a hit of crack when one said to the other: "Hey, show me how to make them balloon things!"
    I could learn *something* from the crackheads in the way of being a little more extroverted; and learn from the "crystal meth" musicians about putting in more hours; funny how crackheads can lose interest in food and sleep and sex...but not balloon twisting; what does that say about food and sleep and sex? LOL

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  3. Balloon twisting would bug me, between the squeaking sound of the balloons, the occasional one popping, the smeary-faced little kids I'd be making balloon figures for, etc.

    But some people just love doing that shit.

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