It is Sunday.
I had set my alarm to wake me up in time to be at the Superdome about an hour before the start of the Saint's game.
That was 10:30 AM, and at that point, I had slept for about 4 hours, having woken up a few times during the night, in order to drink more juice and/or go to the bathroom.
Being on a juice fast, one can get hungry. If one drinks too much juice, though, it can become a juice feast.
I finally got up and started to listen to the game on the radio, telling myself that I would leave the apartment during halftime, as I had already missed the inflow of people into the stadium, and there was no use getting there just to sit at my spot by my lonesome, listening to the broadcast through my headphones -not when I could sit home drinking coffee and listening to it on my speakers.
I left at halftime, guitar and backpack on, and started to pedal, as it started to rain.
A woman resident warned me of "the storm" that she had apparently had caught wind of, and had told me to be careful.
I got as far as Whole Foods, where I ducked under an awning, talked to the security officer for a while, informing him of a seeing a certain skeezer "late 40's, white guy with close cropped brown hair on a bike; usually wears button up shirts? Yeah, I've run him off before..." that he has had to run off before.
I don't like skeezers, I told the security guy, whom I have spoken to before about water fasting on at least one occasion. I contrasted humanity with a beehive, saying that, unlike its case, there are no humans born with the genetic programming to be drones, and to have the worker bees do all the work, yet still drink the queen's nectar.
The security guy like the analogy.
The rain let up and I returned to the apartment. It is almost time to go to the casino to try to watch the Patriots game.
I'm wearing my best fabrics, trying to pull the wool over the eyes of their security guys.
Comments
To address a comment on yesterday's post:
Damn don't strings cost about a dollar each? All that work to come out a dollar behind.
Bike messenger is looking pretty good. Hell the $35 a day my "day job" pays me is looking awfully good esp. considering that probably half the population out here in "silicon valley" makes less.
But, what about your plans to make CDs? What about your plans to get discovered?
I had set my alarm to wake me up in time to be at the Superdome about an hour before the start of the Saint's game.
That was 10:30 AM, and at that point, I had slept for about 4 hours, having woken up a few times during the night, in order to drink more juice and/or go to the bathroom.
Being on a juice fast, one can get hungry. If one drinks too much juice, though, it can become a juice feast.
I finally got up and started to listen to the game on the radio, telling myself that I would leave the apartment during halftime, as I had already missed the inflow of people into the stadium, and there was no use getting there just to sit at my spot by my lonesome, listening to the broadcast through my headphones -not when I could sit home drinking coffee and listening to it on my speakers.
I left at halftime, guitar and backpack on, and started to pedal, as it started to rain.
A woman resident warned me of "the storm" that she had apparently had caught wind of, and had told me to be careful.
I got as far as Whole Foods, where I ducked under an awning, talked to the security officer for a while, informing him of a seeing a certain skeezer "late 40's, white guy with close cropped brown hair on a bike; usually wears button up shirts? Yeah, I've run him off before..." that he has had to run off before.
I don't like skeezers, I told the security guy, whom I have spoken to before about water fasting on at least one occasion. I contrasted humanity with a beehive, saying that, unlike its case, there are no humans born with the genetic programming to be drones, and to have the worker bees do all the work, yet still drink the queen's nectar.
The security guy like the analogy.
The rain let up and I returned to the apartment. It is almost time to go to the casino to try to watch the Patriots game.
I'm wearing my best fabrics, trying to pull the wool over the eyes of their security guys.
Comments
To address a comment on yesterday's post:
Damn don't strings cost about a dollar each? All that work to come out a dollar behind.
Bike messenger is looking pretty good. Hell the $35 a day my "day job" pays me is looking awfully good esp. considering that probably half the population out here in "silicon valley" makes less.
But, what about your plans to make CDs? What about your plans to get discovered?
Nice price on the strings ... doubt I can beat that (finding them on sale and sending them to you)
ReplyDeleteNo way in hell you've been making $18 an hour, not in the slow season...
But, bike messengering could work out well, do that in the slow season and work on your CD, then be "loaded for bear" with a CD done and ready to busk your little heart out during the 'non-slow' season.
What happened to your "Eentsy-Weentsy Spider" trumpet friend? Is he still making $100+ a day playing the tops of the pops for the Romper Room tots?
I haven't been within ear shot of a trumpet on the river since moving out from under the dock; this season is slower than usual; a lot of people come here because of the crowds; so you can see the catch 22, now they aren't coming here because nobody's here...
ReplyDelete"You should see it during Mardi Gras," I have heard more than one person tell a buddy whom he had drug here, telling him: "Wait 'till you see all the people; all the craziness; girls showing their boobs, etc." and who had said "This is Bourbon Street; where are all the boobs?"
So, I don't know if the business owners are going to pool together to hire extras like the movie producers do (auditioning them lifting their shirts, or whatever) and have them flood Bourbon to attract a real crowd of tourists, but that might be a good idea...