On A Night When Nothing Else Materialized...

Zero Dollar Last Night Of The Year
Happy first day of the new year.

A guy came up to me while I was out making no money in the 39 degree air last night, and said that he had been here a year ago and had even shot a video of me, though he cautioned that I was being talked over by someone through the whole thing.

It's funny how I can't remember a face that I might have seen the day before, and I didn't recognize this guy from Adam, but, after I followed the link that he gave me to the video above, I could recall the exact occasion from hearing the music, and even remembered which notes I played "next" on the harmonica...I can remember hitting that note and then wondering if I should repeat it or go up higher...type of thing.

He and his friend were one of three people or groups that stopped by during the 25 minutes that I sat there, playing at first, before determining that I was losing control over the muscles in my fingers and hands.

Our busking hats donned; Colin and I take shelter from the 32 degrees outside

I did not feel a tipping vibe from the people that were around me. There weren't very many, something that I initially blamed on the fireworks that were being simultaneously shot off over the river, before learning from a guy who had just come from there that there weren't many souls down there watching them.

Well, it was 39 degrees.

The idea was that, people would all be focused upon the countdown to the new year, and the fireworks, so I wouldn't see very many of them around the time leading up to midnight, and then they would flood the streets.

This may have taken place, but I never found out, because I packed up at 12:36 AM, after having been listened to by 3 separate groups, and not tipped by any of them after hearing them each tell me that they were some variant of "flat broke," and that, otherwise they would have.

The video above tells me that, at the least, someone could hear the lyrics that I am singing, if they were to stop talking and listen, and that my Takamine guitar sounds pretty much in tune and that the sharp chords that I play with a slashing stroke do indeed cut through the air, and that note that went out of tune on my last C major Susuki Harpmaster harmonica had already done so; in fact, I think the video was shot on the night the note went sharp, and I think I apologized the the guys for it whenever I stopped playing; and I think I ordered a new harmonica the next day and temporarily played my A major harmonica until it arrived, 2 to 3 business days later...

It also tells me that my voice still had the bit of edge, or brassiness, or harshness or bleating like a goat sounding-ness to it one year ago, before I learned to only sing as loudly as keeping the harshness out of it permits...

But, this video represents the "you gotta start somewhere" mentality, in that it is the first sign that someone might indeed come along and shoot a video of me and then post it to Youtube, and it will go viral, etc. etc. and then, move over Ed Sheeran, because I can sing about heroin addicts and girls from Galway, too (or whatever his name is).

A person would have to hold their phone a bit closer to me, though, this one was shot from Lilly's stoop, 6 feet away...

Other than that, it is Monday, the first day of the year, I have just over 3 days to wait until my food stamp money comes. Those 3 days are forecast to be around freezing in temperature; and so the food stamps will indeed fulfill their purpose in supplementing the diet of someone who is unemployed.

I'm at Starbucks, as seen above, and not the Uxi Duxi kava kava bar.

I bought an ounce of kratom which I can dip into anywhere without having to go to the Uxi Duxi, where some of the all gay staff can get on my nerves.

I have this belief that, at some deep level, gays cannot be trusted; and will do malicious things, driven by impulses that they themselves don't understand any more than they do why they are gay.

I really get the sense that Nathaniel, the manager is all about the "asthetics" of the place, and if he had his way; he would decorate the place with his choice of patrons, all dressed in their finery. Like plastering up wallpaper he would adorn the place with his exact vision of it.
It's probably a minor irritation to him and probably Dom, a gay employee, when I sit for up to 7 hours at a table in the place, when they would rather have a fabulously decked out, devilishly handsome mysterious dark man with his hair all edged and lined and his sideburns sculpted in a way such as to offset his strong jaw with his sensitive nose, lending to him a gentle yet unpredictable aura, and who would speak with a strange and hypnotic accent, would order expensive dabs and not 3 dollar single shots of kratom, his friends would be supplying the thrilling suspense of being on their way, causing Nathaniel or Dom's spines to tingle intriguingly, and generally providing them with the experience that they were hoping that opening their special little kava kava bar would ultimately deliver.
They had never thought about: "What do you do if like some old guy keeps coming in and his teeth are messed up; and he just totally misses the point that this is supposed to be a gay hookup spot; and he drinks his kratom and, even though he is amusing and say's funny things and seems to know a lot about diverse and esoteric things -would make an excellent barista even, by the way- he sits there on his laptop, part of the scene for hours, and he wears like almost the same clothes every day; no variety, no different looks, the same theme every day...."
Well, first, you can allow Dom to take a full hour break each afternoon. And, you can let him go on it any time between 3 and 5 PM, so that a customer has no sense of what time to show up when the place will always be open.
That Might Fix Their Clock
Then have Dom act out upon the havoc wreaking impulses directed at the universe that have found their way into his heart, having been ingrained through repeated insults and injuries inflicted upon him by a world that just doesn't understand him, by purposely setting the hands on the "will be back at" sign in an ambiguous spot, making it unclear to the scientific minded which time is actually being indicated, and perhaps causing them to waste some of theirs waiting around until the first time that is possibly being indicated arrives.
And then, upon seeing a person from your vantage point of a yoga mat in the middle of the floor, who is pointing to the clock sign with a questioning look on his face, obviously trying to communicate something, ignoring him; as if to send the message of: "We only pay attention to you when we are on the clock and being paid to do so."
This might be how you would make someone (who has just gotten a Starbucks gift card for Christmas) just go to the Herb Shop up the street and buy and ounce of kratom, saving 10 percent in the process and then go to Starbucks to drink excellent coffee with kratom in it, and to do his blogging there....
And to act out upon my own aggressive impulses and make them wonder why I just stopped going there....let them think long and hard about that....
That might fix their clock!!