Probably From Around March 17th Until Now

Events are unfolding faster than I can unpack them and put into words.

I just woke up and it's just past noon and I am feeling good after a half hour during which I eliminated whatever it was I ate last night I had done pretty well in that department. I remember going to buy a Big Texas Cinamon Bun from the machine here. I sort of remember eating it. I remember testing the "pate" style food that I had gotten for Harold. I had cleaned his plate and laid it by his water then opened the can of turkey flavored pate for him. And then in the throes of a mental glitch, remembering that in the past Harold had not favored any flavored food in "pate" form, it tested it by putting a small forkful in my mouth, found it to be seriously lacking in salt and a little bit bony in flavor, as if a fair amount of bones went into the grinder along with the rest of the turkey.
I had tested it on myself rather than by letting Harold have a sample, and finding it unacceptable, had spit the small forkful into the trash, and had set the can aside, deciding to feed him something else. So there was the turkey pate with the divot forked out...
Then the previous day began to play like a movie in my mind.
I had walked a good ways from where the street car only goes, these days, down Canal street. There was a white guy about my age and close enough in intelligence that I was able to make idle chat with him. I told him that I felt like I was only getting 75 cents worth, out of the $1.25 I pay for the street car, now that it only goes three quarters of the way to the Casino.

"I never thought of it that way."
The conversation started when, after texting something on my phone, probably to Jacob Scardino, I made the joke to the guy, "If this guy doesn't tighten up on his punctuation and his grammar, I'm gonna block him!"
"Well, how old is he?"

I really had been in the abstract when I made the comment; there really wasn't any text right in front of my that I'd been referring to. But I had seen plenty of the punctuation and grammar that I was hypothetically referring to, so I played along.
"26," I said.

"Oh, well there you go," said the white guy of about my age who had said "excuse me," when taking the other half of the seat we were in.
At that point, I thought of joking something like: "You're entitled to up to 50% of the seat," but let that joke go.
I was one Paradise Park 19 ounce beer in, on a trek to the music store to get new strings and a new harmonica before I squandered the money I have on stuff like Paradise Park IPA lagers.

I then played devil's advocate (if I'm using that right) and said: "I don't know; you can tell it's the end of a sentence just by looking at it; why burden your buddy by expecting him to waste a thumb stroke to add a period?"
"Yeah, and the commas and the capitalization..." said the guy, who is probably in middle management somewhere.
I had to walk a whole half mile to the music store that I thought closed at 7 because it closed at 7 as recently as 2 months ago...
I decided to fortify myself for the arduous trek by lighting up the first weed roach I encountered once on Canal Street and having gone only about 50 paces. I did this and was soon at the Unique Store where I applied the wisdom I have gained about "moderation" being a good thing and only got a one dollar shot of brandy to go with the weed I had just finished. It tasted beyond nasty, like rubbing alcohol warmed up mixed with candle wax or something. I pocked the little bottle that had only one nasty sip taken out of it and began to walk straight down Royal Street where I passed interesting things, heard a really good ragtime band and bought some kind of beer at Rouses Market, where back at the beer cooler the ragtime would swell in volume whenever someone opened the front door. As busy as they were there was almost a Leslie speaker type effect as the door was in constant motion.
THE DAMNED STORE WAS CLOSED! and had a sign indicating their hours of operation as (now) being 11 to 6. I had gotten there at 6:24 PM.
I figured that the 24 minutes of bullshitting with everyone all along Royal Street, stopping to shoot a 2:10 length video of the previously mentioned ragtime band at one point; had been worth getting to the store too late. I still had an all day bus pass, that is good for another 4 hours as I sit here.

There is more to the post; there is the Tanya's Party part.
Then there is the cancel culture attack at the Lilly Pad, spawned by being doxed by whomever left the comment on the Dorise Blackmon memorial story; causing a raging group of trans kids to accost me at my playing spot, ending by quoting the comment of "unknown" verbatim....
Then there is the next day when everything seemed to have tilted back to where I could play at the Lilly Pad, rather than some trans band that had shown up ostensibly to drown me out while their loyalists cheered them on from where they had stationed themselves, like pawns in the game of some cancel culture mob that organized online then prepared their Friday night attack.
There is more to this that I will unpack...
I will just leave a marker as a reminder to myself.
The Young Black Man With Breasts And Wearing Eyeliner Who Asked Me Which Way The Strip Clubs Were story (coming soon)
The Weekend had arrived for Tanya's party story (coming soon)
I had decided, upon getting the invitation to it, that I wasn't going to go to it unless I was in a period of fasting, or just coming out of one.
I didn't want to show up in any polluted state, despite the invitation's reference to bringing one's own booze and the the mentioning of an outdoor area, something perhaps designed to ease the mind of any tobacco addicted, or marijuana addled individuals.
And, sure enough, the day for the party arrived and I was beset by demons all around me. I pictured entering Tanya's house, after having taken my shoes off, and then had to find a clean pair of socks. I then pictured there probably being cups of green tea (in front of a Buddha -maybe some guy dressed as the Buddha, Jacob suggested.

The Tanya's Party That I Didn't Go To And Why Not story (coming later)

I have an all day bus pass. But it isn't an all time buss pass, for as long as there are buses type. That would have been more than 3 dollars. So I must go...
I will hopefully get to the present here in the blog before more indescribably things happen...off to the music store!!