Duet With Becca Possible Tonight

The Beggar's Prayer

Yesterday, I left here, stopped to get a shot of moonshine, then to another store for a hard ice tea, to which I intended to add the moonshine, and "boost it up," some.

The Atmosphere Will Be Electric At Serda's

There were three guys sitting around the back of the store. I almost hesitated to join them, when I saw that Richard was one of them. He is an inveterate beggar.

I sat down. Richard immediately asked me for a cigarette. I only had one, and I told him so.
"It's always just one," he said, before walking off, looking disgusted.
That left two other guys, who were ex military and talked almost exclusively about being "squids" and Marines.
I added the moonshine to the hard iced tea. One of the guys, upon witnessing that; asked me for some of it. "I saw you putting vodka in it; that's what we need; vodka," he said, apparently speaking for both of them.
It was all I could do to refrain from making a sarcastic remark, like. "Sure, after all, I'm out there playing for hours each night just so I can keep you in vodka."
The Marine suddenly (after finishing a beer), became very spiritual.
He wanted to pray, and we held hands and he did so. He mentioned that when two or more are gathered in His name, He is in their midst. He prayed that we would all get what we "need." I couldn't help wondering if that was The Beggar's Prayer that he recited...
Then, some time went by. I was about done with my concoction. The Marine asked the other guy for a dollar. The other guy refused it. The Marine then told the other guy that he knew that the other guy had "4 dollars," and reiterated his demand.

The other guy refused again. The Marine stood up and got to within an inch of the other guy's face and told him that, if he wanted to, he could kick him in the head and take the four dollars. Whether or not the Lord was still in our midst at that point, is debatable.

How Can I Worry About Bums When I Might Be Singing With Becca Tonight?

I got downtown and played for a good two hours. I thought I sounded good. I think I'm getting better. I counted about 20 bucks, after I knocked off at 9pm., just as the little dweeb was locking the door to the beer store...

I went to sleep on one of the pair of trolleys, which were relocated during Mardi Gras. It is right behind The Garage club. I'm pretty sure that the property owner is aware of my presence, but, his property happens to be the one that I cleaned during Mardi Gras. He usually waves when he sees me.

It rained all night, and the roof of the trolley was a blessing.

Tonight, I may practice a song with Becca, and then perform it with her at Serda's. I am off to practice and maybe put on new strings.

Data Retrieved

Pulled Like Taffy
So, three days after losing my 1 gigabyte data traveller thing, and having thought that I had tossed it away into the trash can of the Panda Express, along with the bag that a turkey sandwich (without mayonnaise) came in, a guy walks up to me at the Dauphin Store, asks me if I'm "Daniel McKenna," and upon my answering in the affirmative; hands me my green wallet type thing with my cards and my data traveller thing still in it.
He had identified me by looking at my jail ID, which I carry around as a souvenir from that institution, gotten after I trespassed upon the Riverfront, or Riverview, or Riverside Hotel property.
The picture is stretched verticly as if I am made of taffy and was pulled, and it amazed me that the guy, who I will call "Colorado," recognized me from it.
But he did, and I got back all my lyrics, some pictures and a lot of writings. He found it on Dauphin Street, not in the Panda Express' trash.
I gave him a dollar. It was on one of those nights when I made only about 10 bucks, but, He had 0 dollars, on that night.
He is from Colorado Springs, or Golden Springs, Golden, or somewhere in Colorado. He made it sound like a guy on the street with a guitar could do mighty well in somewhere in Colorado, from the way he talked. Lots of people with money, or something like that...
Laundry First; Then Serda's

Was There

Last night at Serda's was a glorious event, with a new guy, who plays saxophone, playing that instrument, accompanied by Jimmy Lee, at one point, and the guy who plays very fast and taps notes and harmonics, at another point. The sax guy eventually hit his groove, or the guy accompanying him hit his groove, and, there was some righteous gigging.
Then a comedian performed, for about as long as it took me to smoke a cigarette. I missed his entire act doing just that, going back inside in time to hear him say "Thank you," to the people.
Becca was there. She got there early enough to be destined to have a couple of hours of before I would go on, due to the organization of the sign up list. I think I got bumped in favor of the new guy with the sax, but that is understandable, in light of the fact that it just seems natural to let a new guy go on right away, I guess.
I snuck around to the side of the building where I had stashed a $1.20 beer, so that I didn't have to buy too many @$2.50 inside. I feel slightly guilty when I do that, like I'm not supporting the venue which is allowing me to get my music "out there," to "the people." I rationalize that I am helping to support them if people enjoy my music. Upon my return to the venue, it was just time for me to go on.
9/16th-Assed Music
I borrowed a pick from Jimmy Lee.

Was Brewing Coffee

Joelle (Miss Underhill) was behind the bar. I couldn't see Becca in the spot where she had been sitting. I figured that I might have missed her. It turns out that she was "in the back," and could hardly hear me, but she was there. I probably would have put a little more into my performance if I thought that she was still there, but, I went up and gave it my "all," which usually amounts to about 89% of me. I put all my water content into it, if you will.
I like to think that, through playing and practicing and honing my skills on the street, I have improved from doing half-assed music, to doing nine sixteenthed-assed music.
I don't know why, in thinking back, that I didn't go sit and talk with Becca some. I could have squeezed it in, between runs to the back of the building for $1.20 beer, smoking out front, etc.
I guess I have the excuse that I was nervous before performing and distracted by trying to come up with a novel idea for a song.
Laundry Done
I was going to improvise one about the laundromat guy, who wouldn't let me go into the restroom to change into my newly cleaned clothes, after I had spent about 6 bucks in his establishment newly cleaning them. Words were exchanged, and I made it clear to him that I would NEVER again patronize his business in the "hood," and use his raggedy-assed, half broken, dirty washers.
I ran into him later and he apologized. He said that if people saw me doing it, they would all want to do it. He was probably worried about me taking a bath in the restroom before changing into my newly cleaned clothes, and leaving hair in the sink. The raggedy assed sink.
I almost tried to do The Laundry Blues, or something, but wound up sticking to previously done stuff, adhering to my new axiom about one time a week being short of the saturation point of people's song hearing capacity. They didn't hear the song every one of the past 7 nights, sometimes two or three times, and aren't as prone to be as tired of it as you, the performer. That's the axiom.
There were some pretty good moments. The low point was when, in the middle of Hubert's Trip, I ran out of gas, in a sense, before I even got him to Las Vegas, which I think is one of the best parts of the song. It can be a 12 minute song, and I was 5 minutes into it, and had only gotten Hubert to the West Coast.
The Man Who Couldn't Decide What Flavor He Wanted is getting easier to play, now that I have dropped the key one step to B, and, easier to play means easier to come up extra lyrics "on the fly" to add and hopefully make the song longer, stronger, faster and better each time its played.
The Carcass Song is still being somewhat of a struggle, as I haven't settled upon the riff which is to be the recurring motif, played under the main verse. Obviously, it has to be one that I can sing and play at the same time, but, to me that means embellishing it to the point where I couldn't sing it and play it at the same time if I tried to embellish it more. That's when it takes a level of concentration where you have to be in "the zone," to negotiate. In my opinion.
Musically, I was happy to see that, when I made the effort, people seemed to be actually paying attention. I was given a sample of ice cream, after doing The Man Who Couldn't Decide What Flavor He Wanted, which is about ice cream.
After I was done, Joelle said "Good job," as she walked past.

The new guy with the sax seemed to have his jury out on me. I think he was sitting there thinking "What kind of saxophone line would I play over this??" during some of my less saxophone friendly stuff, oh, like The Carcass Song...
Then Becca emerged from the parlor, where she had been stationed while I played. She gave me a hug (an excellent Christian one) and told me how she had been in the back and couldn't hear me that well. I would have done more songs with screaming and shouting in them, had I been aware of Becca's plight. Hopefully she wasn't offended that I didn't go back there and talk to her. I could have, I mean, I had on newly cleaned clothes...

Data Bytes The Dust

A Grievous Loss
Somehow I managed to lose my little change holder type thing. In it were my food card, my jail ID, my Starbucks card, and the little 1 Gigabyte "data traveller," which held hundreds of pages of my writings, including the lyrics to about 30 of my songs, many of which were in progress and had recently added lyrics which will be hard to recall.
I think, after buying a sandwich at Pollman's Bakery, I put my change holder type thing in the bag with the sandwich, because my hands were full at the time. I then threw the bag away, after eating the sandwich, and I guess not becoming alerted by the bag's weight being off by about the weight of a change holder type thing.
I suppose I have done well in hanging on to the thing for so long. I just recently pondered trying to back up all the data from it to an online storage type place, in the event of the event above.
The food card will take a good 3 to 5 days to be replaced, limiting my diet somewhat.
After noticing the thing missing, I wasn't even very enthused about playing at Serda's. I thought that it would weigh on my mind, along with the burden of having to come up with another paper to help the Bangladeshi guy with.

I Recognized Her At Once From Seeing Her On Facebook

A Glorious Gain
Then, I decided to go to Serda's, where I observed a rapper named Venom, rapping.
Then, in walked no one else than Becca, and her friend Hannah.
Jimmy Lee then let me go up to play, while Becca was getting me a Flying Dog. She got my favorite flavor, "golden ale."
I then began to play, on Jimmy Lee's guitar, which is expensive.
I played a long intro into "The Carcass Song" and sang half of it, before going off in another direction.
I thought I saw a look of disappointment cross Becca's face, and realised that, even if I am tired of hearing some of my own stuff, there are people that only hear it once a week, or less often. I jumped to "The Bum Song," which I about completed.

Only Heard Half A Carcass Song

I then did "Crazy About a Crazy Girl," and then "The Man Who Couldn't Decide What Flavor He Wanted," took a sip off of my Flying Dog (my favorite flavor,) and then improvised something that I have been writing in my head for several weeks, and at certain times think that I come up with some pretty funny lines for. It is "The Funk Song (in E)" and will be called that until further notice.
It is one of the only songs that had lyrics which weren't on the data traveller stick thing that I probably threw away into the Panda Express' trash.
I was so happy to have Becca and her friend in the audience, as I didn't have to put a bridle on ideas that I might otherwise have thought that nobody was going to get. Everything went pretty well.
A couple of people commended me afterwards, and I gave Becca one of the teddy bears which I caught at a Mardi Gras parade. I think it came from Venus (the character on the float, not the planet.) It was the least I could do in return for her company, a Flying Dog, and a chance to hear her perform one of her songs.
She forgot the lyrics to it, but I told her that that was a good sign, which means that she is growing, and changing the way she looks at the world and that the lyrics probably don't mean the same thing to her now; so she forgot them.
Burden Removed
I had been struggling mightily for an idea to use on the Bangladeshi Guy's paper. He had rejected my best ones, like a program to issue certain counterfeit money to the citizens to give to the bums; or tattooing the bums yellow in the face, after a third offence.
He wanted me to do it on some subject like parking in downtown Mobile. I was asking him for information about the parking problem when he seemed to realise that he could write the paper himself. That was kind of a relief because this one wouldn't have been worth the money for the aggravation.