11 Dollar Monday
I was playing, and trying to block out the distraction of there seeming to be very few tourists out.
It seemed like the times that I stopped, when I couldn't see anyone within earshot, someone would emerge through the gap between parked vehicles, whom I hadn't seen.
I finally decided to just run through my material as a form of practice.
A couple came by and stopped.
They were in their mid to late 20's and the guy was carrying a guitar in a case.
They tipped me 5 dollars, and then sat on Lilly's stoop.
I launched into "They Love Each Other," by the Grateful Dead.
I could sense that something was up, because the couple began to stir on the stoop and become quite agitated.
They then told me, with astonished looks on their faces, that they were in New Orleans to get married and that they had, earlier that night settled upon "They Love Each Other," for what would be their "first dance" song at their wedding, which is to be May 7th.
They thought it either enough of a coincidence that I played that particular song, to be a sign from God; or maybe just a direct sign from God, if they don't believe in coincidences.
The guy asked me how much money I would require to play it at their wedding, to be held in Jackson Square.
I told him to just consult the "tippers guide," manual that is in existence somewhere, and look up "guy who plays first dance song at wedding," and how much you should throw him.
This is bound to be more than any amount I could have brought myself to ask for. I have kind of fallen behind the times and still think 20 dollars is a lot of money, because it is; to me.
It would give me exposure; it might lead to offers to play other gigs...
I know that Tanya and Dorise charged a flat rate of, I think it was $1,800, to play a wedding. Of course, that was doing more than just playing the first dance song, but, having become a person who has seen the value of a 20 dollar bill appreciate considerably since the time I was paid in 17 of them every Thursday, I just couldn't coolly say: "Eh, I'll do it for two-fifty..."
So, I'll take whatever the standard flat rate fee is for a first dance song at a wedding. It might be that people subconsciously want to pay a pretty penny for such a thing, maybe so they can add: "That guy was like, 500 bucks, just to play one song, I mean we spared no expense for our wedding!" to the history of it.
What kind of newlyweds is my music fit for the likes of, as they dance together for the first time as man and wife, I had to wonder?
What is the life expectancy of such a union?
LSD
"Do you dose?" asked the guy before they left.
A reasonable question for a guy who had just played a Grateful Dead song.
I told them that I would certainly take the 3 hits of acid that he then offered, this promises to be some kind of wedding...
I said I wouldn't eat them right then, for reasons that would be obvious to anyone who has ever been found curled up in a fetal position in a flower bed, hugging a plant, after eating a couple hits.
It was easy to imagine the effect my playing the song that they had just hours before decided upon as being their "first dance" song, had upon them if they were dosed on acid.
I can remember looking in the mirror when tripping (back in 1984) and wondering "who the hell is that guy?," not sure if I liked "him," and half afraid that the image in the mirror was going to do something of its own volition to try to startle me, perhaps lunging towards me from the medicine cabinet.
I've only tripped once in the past 25 years, and I blogged about that experience, about a year ago, now, I think it was.
The guy told me that the stuff was "clean" and that it "mic-ed out at 20," a term new to me which I intuit to mean that they now have a way to measure the number of micrograms of LSD in each hit, using technology that might not have been available, back when they were only just sending men to the moon, when acid wasn't always "clean," and when you might get a piece that had been in a low spot in the tray, which would "mic out" at considerably more than 25, and, well, certain flower plants could tell you how that might turn out.
The ones that mother gives you, by the way, still don't do anything at all.
I put the 3 hits of acid in a harmonica case that is in my backpack now.
It's hard not to think about it every now and then, the way you think about the "hyperspace" button on the old Asteroids video game. "Beam me up, Scotty," would be something one might say after swallowing a dose. If there is a time and place for everything then a Tuesday night in the wake of the French Quarter Fest might be the season.
Gee, I think LSD is still a Class A controlled substance, right up there with heroin; maybe I had better swallow the thing, to get rid of the evidence, hee hee hee.
I suspect, though, that if I eat them, it could wind up being just another indication that I have transcended my mind by adhering to Eckhart Tolle's tenets, and I might find myself kind of removed from the immediacy of visual and auditory hallucinations, unable to totally buy into them; and I might just find that it only diverts me from the deeper inner peace that comes through meditation.
Or, it could bring on that "bee" hallucination again.
May 7th, after the wedding, and after I get paid for the song (that I now need to memorize the complete lyrics to) I am penciling in as the time I will make my trip to New England.
Buying a 5 ounce bag of Green Borneo kratom and busking from town to town would be ideal.
Of course, if I make enough in, say, Mobile, Alabama on my first night out, I would be able to proceed directly to the Greyhound station and get a ticket on a bus bound for Boston from there, but I think I would like to check out Nashville, Ashville, and maybe Charlottesville, on my way. I could just let the money accumulate, hiding most of it in my boot or something.
That would depend upon whether or not I was making enough to stay in hotels. I want to avoid the whole dilemma of how to sleep outside, given the weather and the cops and other homeless people. If I still drank, it would be as easy as getting slammed enough so that I didn't give a damn, and would crawl under the nearest bush and sleep like a baby.
The Spring Trip, I will call it.
No; The Great Spring Trip.
Colin Mitchell can give me a lot of information, as he has busked (and stayed in hotels and eaten at restaurants) all over the country. He could tell me where to set up in Baltimore, Maryland, for example.
 |
| I want readers to know: "I am here for you." |
I was playing, and trying to block out the distraction of there seeming to be very few tourists out.
It seemed like the times that I stopped, when I couldn't see anyone within earshot, someone would emerge through the gap between parked vehicles, whom I hadn't seen.
I finally decided to just run through my material as a form of practice.
A couple came by and stopped.
They were in their mid to late 20's and the guy was carrying a guitar in a case.
They tipped me 5 dollars, and then sat on Lilly's stoop.
I launched into "They Love Each Other," by the Grateful Dead.
I could sense that something was up, because the couple began to stir on the stoop and become quite agitated.
They then told me, with astonished looks on their faces, that they were in New Orleans to get married and that they had, earlier that night settled upon "They Love Each Other," for what would be their "first dance" song at their wedding, which is to be May 7th.
They thought it either enough of a coincidence that I played that particular song, to be a sign from God; or maybe just a direct sign from God, if they don't believe in coincidences.
The guy asked me how much money I would require to play it at their wedding, to be held in Jackson Square.
I told him to just consult the "tippers guide," manual that is in existence somewhere, and look up "guy who plays first dance song at wedding," and how much you should throw him.
This is bound to be more than any amount I could have brought myself to ask for. I have kind of fallen behind the times and still think 20 dollars is a lot of money, because it is; to me.
It would give me exposure; it might lead to offers to play other gigs...
I know that Tanya and Dorise charged a flat rate of, I think it was $1,800, to play a wedding. Of course, that was doing more than just playing the first dance song, but, having become a person who has seen the value of a 20 dollar bill appreciate considerably since the time I was paid in 17 of them every Thursday, I just couldn't coolly say: "Eh, I'll do it for two-fifty..."
So, I'll take whatever the standard flat rate fee is for a first dance song at a wedding. It might be that people subconsciously want to pay a pretty penny for such a thing, maybe so they can add: "That guy was like, 500 bucks, just to play one song, I mean we spared no expense for our wedding!" to the history of it.
What kind of newlyweds is my music fit for the likes of, as they dance together for the first time as man and wife, I had to wonder?
What is the life expectancy of such a union?
LSD
"Do you dose?" asked the guy before they left.
 |
| "One pill makes you larger..." |
A reasonable question for a guy who had just played a Grateful Dead song.
I told them that I would certainly take the 3 hits of acid that he then offered, this promises to be some kind of wedding...
I said I wouldn't eat them right then, for reasons that would be obvious to anyone who has ever been found curled up in a fetal position in a flower bed, hugging a plant, after eating a couple hits.
It was easy to imagine the effect my playing the song that they had just hours before decided upon as being their "first dance" song, had upon them if they were dosed on acid.
I can remember looking in the mirror when tripping (back in 1984) and wondering "who the hell is that guy?," not sure if I liked "him," and half afraid that the image in the mirror was going to do something of its own volition to try to startle me, perhaps lunging towards me from the medicine cabinet.
I've only tripped once in the past 25 years, and I blogged about that experience, about a year ago, now, I think it was.
The guy told me that the stuff was "clean" and that it "mic-ed out at 20," a term new to me which I intuit to mean that they now have a way to measure the number of micrograms of LSD in each hit, using technology that might not have been available, back when they were only just sending men to the moon, when acid wasn't always "clean," and when you might get a piece that had been in a low spot in the tray, which would "mic out" at considerably more than 25, and, well, certain flower plants could tell you how that might turn out.
The ones that mother gives you, by the way, still don't do anything at all.
I put the 3 hits of acid in a harmonica case that is in my backpack now.
It's hard not to think about it every now and then, the way you think about the "hyperspace" button on the old Asteroids video game. "Beam me up, Scotty," would be something one might say after swallowing a dose. If there is a time and place for everything then a Tuesday night in the wake of the French Quarter Fest might be the season.
Gee, I think LSD is still a Class A controlled substance, right up there with heroin; maybe I had better swallow the thing, to get rid of the evidence, hee hee hee.
I suspect, though, that if I eat them, it could wind up being just another indication that I have transcended my mind by adhering to Eckhart Tolle's tenets, and I might find myself kind of removed from the immediacy of visual and auditory hallucinations, unable to totally buy into them; and I might just find that it only diverts me from the deeper inner peace that comes through meditation.
Or, it could bring on that "bee" hallucination again.
May 7th, after the wedding, and after I get paid for the song (that I now need to memorize the complete lyrics to) I am penciling in as the time I will make my trip to New England.
Buying a 5 ounce bag of Green Borneo kratom and busking from town to town would be ideal.
Of course, if I make enough in, say, Mobile, Alabama on my first night out, I would be able to proceed directly to the Greyhound station and get a ticket on a bus bound for Boston from there, but I think I would like to check out Nashville, Ashville, and maybe Charlottesville, on my way. I could just let the money accumulate, hiding most of it in my boot or something.
The Spring Trip, I will call it.
No; The Great Spring Trip.
Colin Mitchell can give me a lot of information, as he has busked (and stayed in hotels and eaten at restaurants) all over the country. He could tell me where to set up in Baltimore, Maryland, for example.
Eh, I'd ask for $250 to play the wedding. It's just you with maybe an amp, it's more than you'd make in a week of busking, and you'll get to eat good wedding food.
ReplyDelete