At A Loss

Looking at this picture that I snapped, just to capture the kratom plant behind me, it looks like a person is visible, behind the plant, an Asian looking woman with a triangular hat, of the type that Asians are seen wearing, especially in old photos from Asia.

Thursday Morning
This Thursday morning, I was awake at about the usual 1:30 PM that I wake at.
I was disappointed again, once I hit "play" on the recording that I had worked about 4 hours on, to discover that the drums were missing. It was just me playing guitar and, at times, singing. I will say, though, that it was in very strict meter, since I was playing along with what are now, phantom drums.
But, the lesson about listening to the final mix to make sure that it is OK, is one that will serve me well in the future.
I wanted to surprise myself in the morning to hear how the drums fit in. Boy, was I surprised.
And, I could default to saying that I learned another lesson about pot, and its ability to make one impervious to the fact that a drum track might be "muted" and is not being put into the final mix.
But, the lesson that I should listen back to the final mix to make sure that it sounds good, before deleting anything sounds like something that would be drilled into a sound engineer's head on day one of sound engineer school.
I can repeat the process tonight, but that would mean skipping a 4th consecutive night of busking.

And, I am just about broke, after having had 94 dollars in my hand 5 days ago.

But, I enjoyed time with Howard Westra, bought a 24 pack of the batteries that I use to light my playing spot up like a jewelry case (to illuminate my cubic zirconium music, ha ha) and have a pretty fresh set of very good guitar strings on the Takamine, courtesy of Bobby, my sometimes weed dealer, who has a guitar and is constantly trying to improve the thing; taking it in to have its action lowered, replacing the nut piece, which is made of a certain durable plastic on 99% of the guitars in existence, but is now made out of bone, on his.

That's right, a breakthrough has been made in the field of acoustic science with the discovery that bone -that's right, you know it and love it- bone, and not durable plastic, allows the strings to vibrate at their most natural, boniest way, bringing your tone into harmony with nature. Imagine what heights Jimi Hendrix could have soared to, had he been born 50 years later, after bone nut pieces had come into existence; the thought is staggering.

What all this has to do with me having a pretty fresh set of very good strings on my guitar is that, Bobby also takes home from the Guitar Center store, all of the latest and greatest guitar strings to hit the market, which utilize all of the latest technology in them. You're audience will hear the difference right away. You can just tell them: "Aw, shucks, I'm just trying to make a melody;" you don't have to let them in on your secret; that you are playing tungsten alloy, gold plated guitar strings!"
Bobby handed me a few sets of strings that had only been on his guitar long enough for him to have become perplexed over what the big deal about gold plating is all about, for instance, before being swapped out for another new fangled set of some kind that he was intrigued by.

I guess a third (or fourth, I've lost count) lesson that I learned last night is that, yes, there is indeed something to these more expensive strings. The Cleartone® set that I put on my guitar before recording, impressed me very much by their, well, their clear tone. Ultimately, this is great news, because now I can sound (even) better by using 12 dollar strings, instead of the 3 dollar ones I now get. But, now I am going to feel that I owe it to my audience to plunk down the cash on them.

I really should go out and play tonight. I would so much rather stay in and use the Cleartone strings to make another recording using a nontraditional set of percussion instruments. Lilly will become concerned if she doesn't see me for a 4th consecutive night. And I am always concerned about some skeezer posting up at my vacant spot and finding it to be a great skeezing spot, one that he want's to make his own and not relinquish to anyone who might come along.