Sure, Man!

An old friend, from 2013 in Baton Rouge

I'm at the Uxi Duxi on this Saturday afternoon.

I made 11 bucks last night, in about an hour and a half; having arrived at 11:10 PM at the Lilly Pad.
Pot was definitely a factor in my having hung around at Bobby's apartment just long enough so that I missed the 10:20 PM trolley and wound up on the 10:40 PM; again.

And then, after playing what I felt like was a whole 3 and a half hour concert, complete with an encore, I checked the time to see that it had been only an hour and a half; again. As usual, the sticky bud of pot that I had left over from the night before distorted my perception of time.

I have learned not to smoke before leaving the apartment, as this might cause me to sit and daydream, or to start some project, like making a "quick" recording of an idea that might have just then popped into my head; one that won't be as interesting in the morning light, perhaps.

And the paranoia, of course. The desire to stay in the comfort and security of the apartment, rather than venture out into a dangerous world; and the feeling that nobody is going to want to hear my music, which through the pot fueled introspection, suddenly seems flawed.

But Bobby smoked me up while I was at his place.

The guitar picks that he ordered had come in, and he gave me a pack of them.
I returned to my place, stoned, and looked at the clock to see that I still had about 15 minutes to catch the next trolley, that I went on to miss.

It was a combination of daydreaming (why does 12 minutes of playing feel like a whole 45 minute set, while a "moment" of daydreaming takes 20 minutes off the clock?) picking out an outfit -I had suddenly become handicapped by an over sensitivity to the effects that each combination of hat, shirt and pants might have on an audience who have stopped to hear a busker- taking extra time to shave, as, suddenly my mustache was saying "Don't tip me," to the imaginary audience, encountering Harold the cat at the back door on my way out, who I brought in and fed, then, making sure I had all my gear (don't forget your pot and your rolling papers!) and then going outside, just as the 10:20 PM trolley was zipping past.

It was cold (58 degree or so) and there was nary a soul in sight, and it felt like I was venturing forth across the surface of a barren and hostile planet, or one of the moons of Saturn, telling myself that, once I got to the Lilly Pad, it was going to be surrounded by partying tourists, and I was going to make more than 11 dollars in an hour and a half.

It was pretty busy, and the 11 dollars I made were probably from the first 11 people who were actual tourists and not employees of nearby businesses, residents out walking their dogs, skeezers, dog skeezers or other n'er-do-wells.

After the joint wore off, I could have played for another hour and probably made more money; but had the feeling, once again, that I had laid it all out there, said what I had to say; and that I would be just going through the motions out of material motives, should I continue to play.

At one point, I forced myself to do this. I started playing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," just to be playing something.

When the trash truck showed up around 1 AM, I used it as an excuse to pack up and leave; even though they would make quick work of the trash outside the bar and be on their way in less than 10 minutes.

Now, it is Saturday night at 7:30 PM, and it is the same thing again; try to be playing by 9:30 PM at the Lilly Pad.

Lilly had mentioned inviting me over to share Thanksgiving with her and the family. It is a night such as tonight when she might want to solidify the plans and confirm that I will be there, as I have only missed a handful of Saturday nights in my 6+ years of being in New Orleans. 

Sherman Jacobsen, my old friend from Baton Rouge called me just as I was headed towards the Dollar General as a side trip on my way to the Uxi Duxi. It was my first time hearing from him in about 3 years.

Another Well Kept Secret

I was going to the Dollar General to get a battery for my guitar tuner for a dollar.

The "2032" style "watch batteries," that the tuner will run for about a year on, cost at least 3 dollars if bought separately, $5.49 each at Walgreen's but come as part of these certain L.E.D. candles that are sold for just a buck.

Each $1 light comes with two $3 batteries

It was worth it to me to walk a mile out of my way, to save a couple bucks. The guitar tuner had been pretty dim the night before.

Sherman called from outside the apartment,as I walked. Perfect, he can give me a ride from the dollar store to the Uxi..

I told him he could meet me at the dollar store.

He got lost and next called from Lee Circle, which used to be named for the statue of General Lee that has recently been removed; and is now referred to as "empty pedestal circle."

But, as shown above, Sherman and I are sitting in the Uxi Duxi. I have to go out and busk tonight, but, from what little conversation and "catching up" of the 2 years since I last saw him that we've had, it's quite possible that he is in need of a place to crash, at least for tonight. I have no problem leaving him the run of the place while I go out and try to make some money.