Nothing Wrong With The Old Lignt (Updated)

Where is my spotlight?

I am thinking about going out to play. The one I used to use started acting like it was haunted, during the hurricane Ida power outage.

It would go out for no reason and then come back on when I tried it a half hour later..or not. The last time it went out, I luckily had my olive oil in tuna cans candles lit.

I guess nowhere is my failure to see the big picture during my drinking and drugging period more evident than in the fact that I could be out there jamming away and standing a good chance of making toilet paper money, if I just had a darned......

I just thought of something...the spotlight I used to use before Bobby gave me the rechargeable one...it's in one of my closets...and I had bought a bunch of the kind of batteries that fit it for other things, like the singing bird clock back when I was getting "pandemic unemployment" money raining on me...

I very much could go out and play.

I woke up feeling like I had a fever for the third day in a row; and for the third day in a row am feeling back to normal a couple hours after waking...good enough to busk...

At first it didn't work after I put the brand new Duracell's in it; but after scraping the rust off the terminals from the batteries that had been in there probably 4 years, voila! Bright as hell!

I don't want to be premature; but if the spotlight works, I could be out there, under it and playing by midnight, conservative estimate....then play until about 2:30 and come back home with good food for Harold and toilet paper; and maybe some kind of Covid stuff from Walgreen's, in case that is what I have..

It is 11 o' clock on the nose. After packing up my stuff, most of which is already organized from the Halloween night jam; which also gave the headset mic a test run, I could certainly play from 11:30 until maybe 2 AM...
In the old days, that would average me about 50 bucks; but I think I'm better now...

Update

OK, gathering up my stuff to go out to busk took me from 11 o' clock until almost midnight...

First, I thought that I had left an adapter at Jacob's studio (the "MOC" -for "museum of crap," a designation that shouldn't be mysterious to anyone who looks at yesterday's photos; not that a full sized plastic skeleton should be considered crap by anyone..) and it took me about 10 minutes of searching for what wound up being right in front of me all the time; I was just looking at it backward, I thought I had to adapt a tiny cord to a big one to go into the Yamaha portable amp, but I had an adapter that could plug into the tiny hole which had a big socket that would allow me to remove the tiny cord from the equation....

If it took you ten minutes to figure out what I just said, then, welcome to the club; so I was set back ten minutes looking for something I didn't need.

But, as soon as I became grateful for the fact that I had 90% of my gear intact and was only missing an adapter was when the solution dawned upon me.

It had been the same thing after I thought of using the spotlight that had been in mothballs for 4 years.. I started to think that I had no batteries, but replaced that thought with: I have everything I need, and more than enough...
As soon as I thought that, the Singing Bird Clock sang it's 11 o' clock song, telling me, in effect: "I have two AA batteries you can borrow; my time will just be wrong when you get home, or maybe not, if you return exactly 12 hours from now..."

Guitar, capo, picks, tuner, harmonicas, harmonica brace, spotlight, amp, mic, pre-amp, cables....was I forgetting anything...

Err, maybe the tip basket, that might be a necessary evil as busking equipment (although I will be playing as a service to humanity).

I retrieved the tip basket, from where it has sat in a closet since April 9th, 2020, but where was the laminated sign which read: "The Tiposaurus Rarely Bites" and had a doodle of that creature on it? The plastic reptile was there, but not the sign..

I spent another 10 minutes making another sign, after having had to look around for paper suitable to the task, which wound up being right in front of me, also.

I had drawn a picture using that paper, and it took me a while to see that the rest of the sheets of paper were behind the picture, propping it up.

Still, every problem had a solution that was right in front of me; but it was now 12 o' clock midnight, and everything was packed and ready to go.

I decided to walk to the front lobby and maybe see if I could pick a butt out of the ashtray that the security people mostly use; they have jobs, and so there is usually some tobacco in there; but then thought: Why don't I just get on my bike and ride to the ashtray, on my way out to busk..?

Then, I squeezed the tires on the bike. The back one was pretty soft, indeed.

Walking across the parking lot, I noticed a couple things. One was that the 57 degrees that the security lady told me it was, off her phone, felt pretty chilly, not too cold to play, but, given that I was on day 2 of a juice only fast, I didn't feel like I was producing any heat to counter the cold, stiff breeze that was whistling through my ribs...

Is it crazy, to wake up at 10:30 in the evening, after having laid down at 4 o' clock with busking not even an afterthought, and to feel like I had a fever, and then to walk across the parking lot feeling weak and light-headed from a fast, but to go out and busk, following a wild hare idea?

The cold temperature would further decompress the soft tire on the bike; the added weight of all the gear would flatten it even more...I might get a pinch flat...

As soon as I replaced that thought with a positive one, a street car went by, and spoke to me. It said: "Just take me; you have 2 free ride passes on your couch, remember?"

And, there it was. I could do anything I wanted. I could be out there playing by 1 a.m. at the latest (I would have to walk about 8 minutes from the closest street car stop to the Lilly Pad, to the Lilly Pad...

When do you give up, and err on the side of caution? It seemed like there was an obstacle at every turn, yet a solution at every turn...like all things work to the good of the man who truly wants to busk and will brook no resistance.

The singing bird clock is now chirping 1 in the morning; and I have an aching in the pit of my stomach, a sense of loss and missed opportunity, and of having chickened out; and of having had a path illuminated in front of me, where all obstacles ahead of me would wind up to be only mirages..but not having tread it....I feel like a wimp, who could have stoked a spark within me that might be on the verge of going out; and rekindled the kind of fire, that once had me walking 38 miles, over the course of 2 days and included sleeping in the grass behind a church after night fell, flat broke, except for the (surprising amount of) change that I found in the breakdown lanes I walked, all of it pock marked from having been run over by cars, plus whatever I made by plopping myself down, unbidden, in front of each convenience store I encountered along the way and playing until an emplyee came out to tell me I couldn't do so (usually, for "insurance reasons") which I then spent on a Sobe drink, to quench my thirst, before continuing to walk through the 95 degree air; intent upon making it to Ponte Vedra Beach in time for the TPC golf tournament which would attract hundreds of millionaires to that community; because I had been promised by a friend who managed a little liquor store, not far from the golf course where Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino and Arnold Palmer had won tournaments, that I could put my tip basket out, in front of his store, and play over the course of that 4 day event, washing up behind the place using his hose, type of thing....what happened to that? What has changed in 14 years?

All that aside (after running through my mind) I decided that I will make a more pre-planned go of it, tomorrow. I just hope the spark doesn't go out while I sleep tonight; which will be tomorrow

It would have been incredible, people would have exclaimed: "You're back!" and dropped 20 dollar bills in my basket, I just know it..." Yeah, yeah, shut up, mind!

Check Those O-Rings!

On the brighter side, it might be warmer tomorrow night and I will have time to come up with at least one brand new song to play, which will give me a sense of freshness and trailblazing...

I can bring my gear into the recreational area of Sacred Heart Apartments, and act as if it was the Lilly Pad, and give it all a test run. One question is whether the headset microphone is going to thump against the harmonica brace when I am playing the harp vigorously and shaking my head around when doing so. I might have to wad up something like a gauze bandage and wrap either the stem to the microphone, or the spot on the brace where it might thump. That test has to be done. Maybe it was good that I didn't launch the "Shuttle Challenger" on a whim tonight. One more test needs to be done...

Then, I can go to Winn Dixie to get a refund for the 20 dollar box of cat food the young lady gave me, along with the receipt; then ride up to The Herb Shop to buy an ounce or two of kratom, then ride to the gas station to fully inflate the tires on the bike; and then I will be back in business, Saturday, November 7th, 2021...(my grandfather on my mother's side's birthday, if my memory from childhood serves me).