Too Much

(5,000)Pennies From Heaven
So, this is Monday; and yesterday evening ended with myself having a long-ish conversation with Ted Broughey, my best High School pal; and someone whom I can resume a conversation with; even if the conversation had been interupted for a period of years.
I was under the stand of cedar trees.
I had 4 dollars in my pocket; and this being at the end of the weekend; heading into the "slow" day of Monday.
Upcoming Pages
Ted will be featured in an upcoming venue which I propose to instill. Namely; all the "characters" who appear in the blog will have set aside under the heading of "pages" their own pages of bio-descriptive type things; as well as photos etc. and the pages will be my own personal "profile" of the character; and it should be fun....
I had managed to provide for myself in the way of food and drink and some tobacco.
Ted Comes Through
Ted called and during the conversation, his voice was just barely coming through.
He casually asked me if I had made any money that night.
I told him about the "about 8 dollars" which was about what I had made.
He said that he would wire me 50 dollars.
I thanked him and promised to call the next (to)day.
After I ended the call, my "government" phone beeped; -it was my own phone carrier texting that I was out of minutes "0 balance;" zilch. No more until June 11th.
So, now I have picked up the 50 dollars and have to consider using some of it to put minutes on the phone.
I have had a few long and very entertaining conversations with Ted; as well as a couple with my mom.
The two seeming to be in agreement that our country is turning into a "Socialist State."
Week In Review

The highlight of the week for me very well could have been the walk which I took with Tanya Huang on Saturday morning; from the corner where she and Dorise were setting up; to the Rouses Market; a quarter mile away.
Tanya claimed to be very hungry and couldn't seem to understand why "Maybe I'm hungry from yesterday..." and even offered to get me something to eat, and suggested I go along with her..
Dodging Paparazzi
She walked very fast; either being driven by hunger, or trying to avoid being accosted by tourists.

"It's Her!!!"

I would suspect a little of both; but more of the latter.
She had put on shades before setting out.
But, even in this disquise, which did nothing to disguise her beauty; she was set upon by at least 4 different tourists; who asked questions like "Are you the girl who plays the violin?" and "Where are you playing?"
It was kind of like walking with Jacqueline Onasis, I remember thinking; and I remember asking myself Why Jacqueline Onasis? Freudian? Maybe it was the shades.
Once inside Rouses Market; we were soon looking at chicken.
She remembered that I had wanted dark meat the first time that she bought me chicken.
I wasn't thinking about the temperature outside which had climbed to around 90 degrees already, and the way that chicken grease can seem to break you into a sweat and come out of your pores in the heat, otherwise, I might have gently suggested to her that there might be better foods to eat on such a hot day.
Eyes Bigger Than Stomach?
Tanya grabbed two of everything, chicken; sushi, greens, a drink (I had strongly suggested the greens; in order to help digest the chicken).
It was kind of amusing to see such a skinny girl trying to carry so much food; ...your breakfast should be no larger than an armload...
She told me to grab something to drink "anything you want."
"It's too early for beer," was her rejoinder to what I next said.
"We aren't really set up yet; we probably won't start for another 20 minutes," said Tanya to a couple from "around Houston," who seemed particularly eager to hear violin music.
"We bought your CD 2 years ago and we love it," said they.
Tanya wanted to eat her food, I was pretty sure, even though I'm a terrible reader of people. 
I had an idea that I would pretend to be their soundman and she and Dorise sat and chowed down while waiting for me to figure out why "we're not getting any 'signal'" or something; should the couple from around Houston follow us, thinking that she was going to pick up her violin and immediately play.
"Oh, they decided to go into that hat shop," said a visibly liberated Tanya. "How am I going to eat all this?"
"With chopsticks, miss Huang."
I joked about how comical a parody upon "the fickle tourist" it was to see the couple have all thoughts about the amazing virtuoso violinist pushed out of their heads upon espying a certain hat shop.
Love At First Bite
I sat down and began to devour the white meat before me.
I offered Dorise some of the chicken.
"I don't eat meat," she said.
"I used to not eat anything but fish a few times a week..."
"But then, you changed?" she asked, eying my chicken suspiciously; as if maybe Tanya had persuaded me to eat chicken.
"What about shellfish, scallops, things like that?"
"I don't eat ANY LIVING CREATURE," said Dorise with finality.
"....I was a fruitarian for a summer, back in '89..." I offered.
"How did that go?"
"It was OK until I decided to go to the gym and 'bulk up' then the bananas let me down....
After demonstrating that she was just as artistic with chopsticks as with a bow; the diminutive figure began to play; taking a position standing up in the shade; rather than sitting down in the sun....
"You're going to burn enough calories standing up to offset what you gained by moving into the shade..."
"Nea"

Count The Miles

Got this Broughey song stuck in my head now, "Next Door To Heaven."
The song (available in yesterdays post) is kind of like if U2 decided to cover a Pink Floyd Song, but got a very depressed David Cassidy to sing instead of Bono.
That being said, Ted is one of my most cherished friends; going back to High School; and as such I gave the song the extra opportunity to endear itself to me by playing it repeatedly through my little mp3 player, giving it every chance to grow on me, and it is stuck in my head now...
As I sit here at the library, Tanya and Dorise are out in the hot sun on Royal Street; "making bank," as the vernacular would have it.
I had about 17 people tip me as I played last night on Bourbon Street.
The new guitar sounds great; and it also paid off to have abondoned the 20 improvisations over the chords of a Grateful Dead song (chords which are only in my head) in favor of just good ol' Eagles songs like Tequila Sunrise and other good ol songs like that...
17 people showed their appreciation; but it was all for 17 dollars, as I got "singled."*
*I want to coin that phrase if it doesn't already exist: "Singled:" Earning just one dollar and only one dollar from every tipper on a given evening, so that the number of tippers can be determined by counting the number of dollars.
That was kind of a bummer in more than just the pecuniary aspect; it made me feel like I didn't really kick ass in my music; not even for 5 minutes out of the 2 hours that I played. There's a feeling you get when you really nail something; and I thought I played some cool stuff; but "the 20 dollar man," didn't show up.

Broughey On My Mp3

Free MP3 download: SEEDS-NEW TUNE.mp3
Free MP3 download: NEXT DOOR TO HEAVEN 1.mp3

My High School friend, Ted Broughey (whom I haven't seen in 25 years) has sent me the two songs above, which I guess he recorded in his apartment in Boston.

I will critique them in detail in the coming posts.

Sing Me The Song "Curtis Lowe"

Saturday night, at the Bourbon Street spot, across from Barnaby's condo, a couple approached, and asked me to play Bob Dylan, while I was in the middle of playing something else...
They started to walk past, but stopped and the man repeated "Bob Dylan!"
I changed to "Like A Rolling Stone," and, after the few seconds that it took them to recognize the piece, they returned and listened to a few verses, while throwing a few dollars in my case.
Then, they told me that the song that they really wanted to hear, was "Curtis Lowe," by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and the guy added that "I ALWAYS throw a tip whenever I hear someone playing that song..."

"I ALWAYS throw a tipe whenever I hear someone playing that song..."

I had heard the song before, especially when I lived in Jacksonville, Florida, the birthplace of Lynyrd Skynyr; but never tried to play it.

I hurriedly strummed an E major chord to put them into the key that I thought the song was in; and to make sure they wouldn't start singing it in the key of G sharp with myself trying to follow along.
As they sang, I managed to sound out the chords, so that by the third verse (when they chucked ol' Curtis in the clay) I had the harmony worked out, to include the "turnaround" (VI7) chord which is important because it is over this chord that we learn through the vocals that "them people all were fools."
They thanked me and said that they had had fun.
"Well, I learned a new song," I said, which seemed to please the guy (he changed the world, in his small way and will bring "Curtis Lowe" to the ears of new listeners and The People, in general, helping to keep it "alive").
I looked in my case to see the distinctive yellowish hue of a ten dollar bill, nestled next to my plastic piggie bank.
"Oh, thank you," I said; already stuffing the bill in my pocket to keep it from the-guy-who-grabs-money-out-of-your-case-and-runs-away-with-it.
I got about 15 bucks during that one song, making me think ...if I could just play 100 songs per day....
The rest of Saturday night went pretty much the same.
Upspringing And Outpouring
Sunday, as I have already posted, there was a magical upspringing and outpouring of generosity which took the form of free drinks and food and tobacco and money.
I knocked off at the curfew hour of about 8 p.m., thinking that I might return after the 
patrols rode through, and went towards Rouses Market where there was playing one of the "Old-Timey" bands across the street. The best one, in my opinion, called The High Rollers (left).
"People who don't like them call them 'Hillbilly bands," according to Paul, of Doreens Jazz Band.
Then, I spotted the distinctive aqua marine hue of Tanyas jacket out of the corner of my eye, disappearing into the store on the corner that the Old Timey band was playing in front of.
The aqua marine and dandilion-yellow clad figure with the flowing black hair had its back to me, but there could be no mistaking it to be none other than Tanya Huang.
She was sniffing tubes of something.
I went into the little store and stood a few feet away from her and began picking up random things and sniffing them; things with no fragrance, like ashtrays or salt shakers.
She held out two tubes for me to sniff, telling me that she had narrowed the fragrances down to those, out of the dozen or so tubes of whatever it was; which was to be her Mothers Day gift.
"Did you work tonight?" she asked.
"Yes, I did, and people actually gave me money!"
"And then you quit?" she asked, with a smile.
"Yeah, I played my best stuff; and then...well, I get lonely, I guess....It would be easier with a partner, to sit there all day; it would be like having a fishing buddy to sit in the boat with you for hours..."
"Yeah, I would hate to have to sit there all day by myself," agreed Tanya.
She seemed amused that I could earn my daily bread in a couple hours, and be done with it.
I guess we both make our "living" with our music.
Sometimes I play until enough people have told me that I sound good; and then; satisfied that I sound good; I quit playing.....
It's just that "a living" to her extends to having the means to buy tubes of fragrant lotions and potions on Mothers Day, and such.
If her hair wasn't so silky and shiny and her skin so smooth and succulent and redolent with her favorite fragrance with everything manicured and pedicured; she might deem that she wasn't making "a living" with her music, and would probably just play longer hours....
My requirements aren't quite so stringent.
She was going into Rouses Market and she asked me if I wanted anything.
"I actually got everything I need; someone gave me some jambalaya..."
"Do you want some chicken to go on top of it?"
"Sure."
She emerged with some baked chicken, which I put on top of the jambalaya and ate, along with the bottle of red wine which Barnaby had given me.
She seemed in a hurry to perhaps give her mother the gift, so I didn't invite her to sit with me on the sidewalk to eat chicken with our hands and pass the wine bottle back and forth while listening to the hillbilly band...

And, so it is Monday.
The weekend produced the effect of myself starting to at least make money playing.
Friday was dismal.
Sunday was magical, as I was given just about everything imaginable as I played on Bourbon Street.
There was a 10 dollar at least blunt in my case; jambalaya made by a guy who won the National Jambalaya Contest (or something), a pack of cigarettes; and so many drinks that I poured them all into an empty orange juice jug because they were all Huriicanes; a bottle of wine....and actual money, with a 10 dollar tip amongst it; and to cap the evening off, some baked chicken, from Tanya Huang.
But the best news is that the new guitar sounds great; and I am playing better because I am trying to catch up to Tanya and her ilk; and to play more scale tones in my solos.
I had been outlining the chords too much and not putting in the extra tones which can sound cool...
out of time

It's All Connected

What Becomes Of The 94 Dollar Tip

"Don't F*** Me!!"

When we last left Daniel, he had just gotten a 94 dollar tip from a guy who came across as his "Cousin Vinnie," who described the tip as an investment which he was making in Daniels music, and made it clear to him that, although he was a very nice guy; nobody f*** him over without "repercussions."
Understanding the mans concerns, Daniel continued to play, after the man walked off.
Part of him was thinking that it would not look good to Vinnie, if he were to pack up right away and leave the spot (can't wait to hit that crack pipe...) and another part was actually in the mood to play more music.
Axiom In Action
Daniel had been making a concerted effort to improve his playing technique over the past month or so; which involved his going back to the basics of practicing scales and arpeggios...in keeping with his Buskers Axiom #1:

"Seek ye first to sound good; and all other things will be added unto you."

He played with an ease which sprung from the knowledge that he now had a nice hat; was looking forward to getting amplified; and had enough money in his pocket to alleviate his concern over weather or not the tourists were going to throw him anything.
As a result, he switched to some music which he hadn't done in a while; and wound up stuffing some more bills to the ones in his pocket.
A Stripper Shows Herself
Before going to the Bourbon Street spot, Daniel was walking down Royal Street and was mildly surprised to see that the Christina and Brian Duo was not on the corner of Saint Louis Street.
Seeing that the business was still open, there wouldn't be anyone playing right in the doorway, but it wouldn't be unusual to see someone off to the side a bit; playing there and waiting to move into the doorway later.
He sat down and took the spot; hat on head and pretty much flat broke (this was a prelude to the 94 dollar tip).

"Play Some Dylan!!"

A young lady approach and, kneeling down next to Daniel, said: "Play something awesome! Play some Bob Dylan!"
She showed Daniel what she was carrying in a paper bag.
"I got these as a gift from work..."
And then ministered to Daniels perplexion, which must have showed on his face, by enlightening him with the addition of "They're dildos."
Daniel thought that they looked pretty space aged.
"...Babe, You're Bound To Fall..."
Daniel played "Like A Rolling Stone," by Bob Dylan, and the young ladys face lit up and she sang along.
After every other verse or so, Daniel felt compelled to stop and to explain the meaning to the girl.
In the back of his mind, he was forming an opinion that the girl might be living the part of the girl in the song who ...Once upon a time, looked so fine, threw the bums a dime (hey, that's Daniel in this instance!) in her prime...
The girl seemed eager to learn the undercurrents of meaning in the song.
It was Daniels way of being "fatherly" (since he was easily twice the girls age) and cautioning her through the song and its moral about what can happen to a girl that looks fine and is in her prime; but then falls.
She was soon on her way, after stuffing a wad of singles into Daniels backpack; (Daniel thought he counted 8 of them, but wasn't sure; having mixed them with other bills which were forthcoming) but not before ruminating out loud that she had always thought "Napolean in rags" (from the song) was a heroin dealer.
"No, he's actually a pimp, dear (hence the off color "language" that he used)."
Daniel thanked her; and recieved the answer "I strip for a living," to his inquiry as to exactly where on Bourbon Street she worked that gave employees dildos as gifts.
Baby Sitting
Then, enriched by what was probably 8 dollars, Daniel continued to play; and was hopeful that he was playing well at the time when up rode Christina Friis on a bicycle.
There was a look of innocent curiosity on her face, as if she wanted to ask a question but wanted to phrase it delicately. ....Umm, are you taking this spot for the night...If so, it's OK....
There was no vibe which Daniel could feel, which would make him think she was about to say something like: "What's the big idea; you know we like to play here; and it's a Friday night; and you yourself said you don't like to play Royal Street because you're not loud enough; I thought we were friends!" like similar exchanges that Daniel had heard exchanged between other famous street performers, whom will not be mentioned here.
This led Daniel to an interesting observation about about people in general, and Christina in particular.

"There are people who act very nicely towards others; despite the malicious thoughts that they are keeping at bay; and there are other people who act very nicely towards others; because of the nice thoughts that they have... "  -Daniel

Daniel concluded that Christina is the later, as is Brian to an extent; and that would probably the best way to explain the charisma which she and their group exudes...and what comes through in their music (and; because of the theme of this blog; it must be noted -in their tip basket, too).
It seemed like she might have been wanting the spot but was trying to find the right way to ask ("How long are you gonna be here?"?).
Daniels dual purpose in sitting there was to see if he could make any money there (with the addition of the hat) and to hold the spot for them, should they just be running late.
So, before Christina opened her mouth, he said: "I'm holding the spot," meaning, for them; but a little ambiguous.
I slight look of concern creased her brow. "You're holding it for somebody?"
"For you guys, if you showed up; I figured you might be running late; I was surprised not to see you here on a Friday night..."
She rode off to retrieve Brian; and they were soon setting their stage up; while Daniel continued to play; and in doing so; demonstrated to them how a guy playing unplugged on Royal Street struggles to make a dime (unless he catches a stripper at the right moment).
The duo threw Daniel 3 dollars after he finished one of his songs; Daniel thinks it may have been one of his originals; but he can't remember now....he thought that it was a nice way of saying "One from each of us; plus two halves that we glued together into a third..." Daniels mind often works that way.
Then, before he left, Brian handed him two more 5 dollar bills, saying "Thanks for spot holding."
Thus, after going from rags to 21 dollars, Daniel made his way towards his rendezvous with the 94 dollar tip; by way of Rouses Market, where he treated himself to a 24 oz. Strawberry Lime-A-Rita.*
*This is the same beverage which had had spent 45 days in the East Baton Rouge Prison for just admitting to the police that he had indeed drunk. He figured that the drink owed him...
Post Tip Stress Syndrome
It was with pockets stuffed with about $135 that Daniel finally left the Bourbon Street spot, 45 minutes past curfew time; and meandered towards Rouses Market, where he ran into Tanya and Dorise, who were packing up for the night.
"This guy came and gave me a big tip, but he warned me that if he walked up on me and I still had the same equipment, he was going to hit me in the face. And, 'it won't be pretty' he said." I said to Dorise.
Tanya was nearby, rolling up a cable, and at the words "hit me in the face," she looked up, and asked "What happened?"
Daniel repeated what he had told Dorise.
"I need to get like amplified or something..." he added.
"How much did he give you," asked Tanya.
"It was actually 94 bucks."
"So, basically a hundred dollar tip..." she mused, with no trace of amazement in her voice ...we get them all the time...
"Yeah."
Daniel outlined his options for disbursing the tip, not limited to:
"A little 'cube' amp."
"Do you need a ride to the store to get it? On a day when I'm not working?" asked Tanya.
"Well, of course, then I would need a pickup for the guitar and a cable to plug it into the amp; and then I still wouldn't have my vocals amplified," lamented Daniel, but then had another thought.
"I could get the amp and a cheap microphone to go with it and both play and sing into the mic."
But then he thought better of that: "But it would be a really cheap microphone; given the money I would have left over...and I don't want to sound like a robot"
"I have a microphone that you could use," said the ever helpful, resourceful, effecient and diminutive Chinese violinist...
And so it was that Daniel went back across the river; planning to rise early and go to the music store for a cube amp....
A Wild Goose Chase
Sunday morning Daniel was up with the birds.
He started upon a route which would take him down Royal Street, where he hoped to run into Paul from Doreens Jazz Band. He would ask Pauls advice about how best to invest the tip money and avoid "complications" with Uncle Vinnie.
Unfortuantely, they were not to be seen along that street, as far as Rouses Market.
"They're playing Jazzfest," he was informed by the The Brooding Black Man Who Plays A Fender Acoustic Guitar, and who was holding the spot for Tanya and Dorise.
He then informed Daniel that The Guitar Center had for sale a combination of an acoustic guitar and a case as well as a small amplifier; all for 79 dollars.
But then, he gave Daniel erroneos directions for how to get to that particular store.
Daniel spent most of the day taking the street car to the end of its line and then trying to find where the "E3" (which is the bus that the brooding man told him to catch) stopped.
There was no "E3"
Another person at the bus stop gave him further erroneous directions and he was soon well out of New Orleans and into the city of Metarie, where there was no Guitar Center.
After paying more bus fare, he was dropped off near the Quarter and walked into town where he again encountered Tanya and Dorise playing by Rouses Market...
"I went on a wild goose chase," he said to Dorise.
"I wouldn't worry about that guy," she said, already anticipating Daniels foreboding about Cousin Vinnie.
The Arrival Of A Rival?

There is a young man who sometimes plays a weird percussion instrument with Tanya and Dorise.
The instrument looks like a wooden box, but can produce percussion sounds.
He was playing this thing along with the duo, and Daniel sat down to listen; and to drink Lime-A-Rita; resolving to either try to go back to The Guitar Center the next day; or to maybe try Webbs Bywater Music in the opposite direction.
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise to be mis-led, he thought. Maybe the combination of the guitar and case and amp for such a low price would have given me frustratingly cheap renditions of each.
He decided that he would talk to Paul at Webbs Bywater; a person whom he had heard described as a nice guy who bends over backwards to help the street musicians (i.e. has inexpensive stuff); and try to put the 94 dollar tip to the best use.
Little did he know that he would be helped with his decision through the agency of Tanya and the aforementioned young man who plays the weird percussion instrument.
By the time T&D ended their night, Daniel had finished his second 24 oz. Lime-A-Rita and was barely keeping his eyes open.
The Guy That Plays The Cajon Drum
It was at this point that the young percussionist turned to him and said: "I've never heard you play before, do you want to jam?"
And it was in this state of intoxication that Daniel said "Sure," and wrestled the Jasmine Guitar out of its ragged case and tried to jam along with the percussionist and his wooden box.
He began to play the rif for "The Music Never Stopped," by The Grateful Dead, and was instantly missing notes or missing strings entirely before attempting a solo over the changes, which produced more sloppy sounds.
He was aware that Tanya (violin virtuoso) was in and out of earshot as she volleyed between the van and the equipment which was strewn about the two jammers, and that she hadn't really ever heard him play; and the stabbing feeling of embarrassment was enough to permeate the Lime-A-Rita haze; and he decided to just stop; as a means of damage control; cut your losses and run, type of thing...
"I'm sorry, that last Lime-A-Rita really wiped me out, I can't even play..." said Daniel as he stopped abruptly and began to put his guitar back into the raggedy case. "I wasn't expecting to play tonight." I've got a big excursion planned for early morning...
A Curious Thing
Then, the young man did a curious thing.
He walked over and intercepted Tanya on her way to grab more equipment and playfully kissed her on the cheek and maybe murmered something to her.


... figured the mere thought of motherhood repulsed her...

 Daniel felt some slight pangs of jeolousy which hadn't been visited upon him since he was 19 years old and lost a girl whom he was sweet upon to a rival who blatantly employed similar tactics...
I guess sometimes you aren't aware of your true feelings until a playful kiss exposes them....I thought that she might have no desire for a relationship; or that she was a lesbian; or that her family forbade her to marry anyone except a Chinese doctor; or that music has entirely supplanted her sex drive, or....
But, was it a tactic?
Had the percussionist seen that Daniel could barely keep his eyes open and seized the opportunity to try to make him look (sound) bad?
The Second Blessing
Daniel lay under the bushes that night; with the embers of the jealous feeling still glowing in his stomach; but was able to comfort himself by thinking of certain realities.
He saw Dorises face hovering before him saying; "Don't worry about that. He's just a good friend of ours and we probably wouldn't hang out with him if he was like that. He hadn't seen her in months.
You were just too drunk to play; it happens. You'll get 'em next time...and, as far as Tanya goes; you're not going to impress her even if you play Bachs Brandenburg Concertos with your feet; sbe likes you for your humor anyways; and do you know how many guys have come along and tried to amaze her with whatever they play...it just aint' happening; relax...she is more likely to resent a guy who would play a game like that; even if that were the case..."
The Reason It Happened
He calmed down and fell asleep; telling himself as he drifted off that "there is a reason everything happens" and he would just have to wait for the next opportunity to say "Hey, let's finish that jam we started, now that I'm sober..." and it was as that image congealed in his mind (like a jello shot) that he had a revelation as to how to invest the 94 dollar tip.
He wouldn't try to amplify the Jasmine, which is on its last legs, even though more volume would equal more money. On an artistic level that wouldn't do.

"I Forgot About That One..."

He needed to play better and to sound better; and that would involve getting a new guitar...
He walked (to punish himself for drinking too much and embarassing himself in front of Tanya; even though that had led to the revelation that a new guitar was the way to go) all the way to Webbs Bywater Music store on Monday morning, where Paul, who was suffering "I'm sick as a dog, dude, I think I'm going to close and go home in a few minutes" initially said "All my used stuff is $299 and up."
"What about that Yamaha," asked Daniel, spotting one. "Is that the one that is $299?"
"Oh, I forgot about that," returned Paul. "That one, I could let go for $75. It had a cracked neck, but I fixed it and it is as good as new; in fact...."
And so, after a bit of haggling; Daniel left the store with a Yamaha F310 guitar (just like the one that his mother bought for him in 2006 to kick off his busking career after everything else slumped) and a new case for it, $80 lighter in the pocket. 
Stopping on Royal Street, he was congratulated on his purchase by Dorise, who said that she liked the neck.
It's All Connected
Daniel couldn't help connecting the cosmic dots between the gift he sent to his mother which arrived on her birthday; and then the phone call to her; when he heard about the troubles that the family was having, including a heart attack suffered by his brother; and then decided NOT to ask her for money; and then the received gift of the hat; and then the man (who looked a lot like his brother) who gave the 94 dollar tip and then the accidents which led him to the music store a few minutes before the guy was going to close; where the same kind of guitar which my mother once bought for me happened to be waiting; and the fact that Dorise liked the neck on it; and that one of the things that attracts me to Chinese girls is their necks.....It is all connected; somehow; thought Daniel...

Weekend Update

Today is Monday;
To recap the last 4 days:

• I Get A Hat
• News From Home; brother has mild heart attack
• Second Largest Tip comes with ultimatum
• Ultimatum fulfilled with new guitar

Friday night, I played the Bourbon Street spot for an hour and made 75 cents.
I was having no trouble getting drinks, though, and I eventually exceeded the limit for the number of drinks one can have in them and retain a positive frame of mind after X amount of people walk by as they play as hard as they can; and only throw them 75 cents.
The reason could have just been that, at that particular hour, people weren't tipping.
Perhaps groups were meeting on business, and maybe throwing a tip to a musician would have a polarizing effect; for example; what if the guy whom the guy is trying to close a deal with can't stand a certain song, perhaps because of his political beliefs; and the other guy tips the guy playing it; it could be a deal breaker...
The people could have been local to the residential area where I play and might consider that their permissiveness in letting me be there in the first place is charity enough, on their part.
There is occasionally such a thing, in busking, as an hour when you only make 75 cents, though, it can be followed by a 50 dollar hour; but, I was starting to have doubts.
I was thinking about the miserable couple of weeks that I had had after losing my hat.
I haven't changed my style of playing, except to have gotten a bit better, and so I started to look at other factors in my financial demise.
I had already determined to change my look and had gone back to the pony tail; but the elastic wasn't holding the hair too well and I wound up with a sheep dog style.
I was dejected and my mind was racing, thinking of alternatives to busking, feeling like truly giving up.
I had just about resolved to do that, as I walked off.

It's Me

A Gift Atop My Head
Then, I went to the corner of Royal Street where Rouses Market was.
Tanya and Dorise were just packing up after playing.
I was in such a foul mood, I made a wide circle around them, not even wanting to stop and spread the venom which I felt full of.
I avoided other musicians also, to avoid the question of:  "How did you do?."
But, Dorise spotted me from afar and hollared my name, adding that they had a gift for me.
She gave me a long hug when I got there, during which I felt like she somehow could feel that I had only made 75 cents in an hour, and was consolling me.
Then, I was lead to the back door of their van, which was opened and through which issued forth one hat. Dorise assured me "It's you!" and gave me the brown felt hat which fit perfectly.
Saturday: News From Home
Gift Appraised
Saturday, I stopped first at the Baptist church on Dauphine Street, where I was given a new pair of socks and a pair of pants which fit, but which are courderoy and grey in color, and I was told by someone, whom apparently has knowledge of hats: "Someone gave you a 100 dollar hat!" when I showed it off.
I told him that the hug that I got was priceless, and he agreed.
[Photo of hat forthcoming; as soon as I can get the "Blogger" application to work on my Android Phone]
Gift Arrived
I called my mom to see if she had gotten the birthday message which I had left on her answering machine the day before.
The recording featured Tanya and Dorise playing "Happy Birthday," softly behind my message, and then my singing of that song.
She had gotten it, as well as the CD from the very same backup group, which arrived on the very day of her birthday.
Disconcerting News
She told me that my younger brother had had a heart attack a couple of months? ago, as well as having had his third daughter born a few weeks ago. There was no damage to his heart, and now he will have to watch his diet. And the baby is healthy.
That made me realise how long I have been out of touch with my family; and I decided not to ask mom to send money; it being her birthday, and with all that is going on up there in Massachusetts.
A Man Doesn't Pass My Hat
I went to Bourbon Street, to play with the new hat on.
I started to get a steady flow of tip money, just like I used to before I lost my other hat. It felt like I was "in uniform" and people responded accordingly.
I made about 12 bucks in the first half hour, used the restroom at The Blacksmith Tavern, and then returned to play some more, after finding an almost full "Jester" drink, sitting on a shelf in the mens room, as if someone had just plumb forgot it there and was probably at the bar ordering another.
Second Largest Tip Ever
I then began to jam on "The Music Never Stopped," by the Grateful Dead.
A man in a bright yellow tee shirt, who turned out to be 45, came and put four dollars in my case, which I hadn't even seeded after returning from the restroom. I hadn't put my plastic piggie bank, purple Mardi Gras beads, nor flashing plastic toy in the case, either.
"There, I just put four dollars in your case," said the man, before sitting down next to me.
"Is that an alright tip; 4 dollars?" he asked. "That's all I've got; but I like how you sound..."
"Sure, especially if the people see that I smoke; it's like they're giving me a pack of butts..."
"Or a couple beers," said the guy, with a shrug which seemed to say "No big deal...nothing wrong with a couple beers."
He was wearing shades through which I could barely see his eyes: It's not going to last long," he added.
In retrospect, he was testing me. He was trying to gauge how far I had sunken financially in life (if 4 dollars would make my eyes light up) and/or to see how appreciative I was, in general.
Then, he asked: "What do you need? I mean to help you advance yourself; because I think your playing is excellent; I came around the corner there and it was refreshing to hear such interesting music...and it's hard for me to believe that you've got such a beat up guitar and a case which is coming apart at the seams"
I told him that I needed to become amplified and that decibels equal dollars in the French Quarter.
"Well, how much is that going to cost?"
Thoughts of Tanya and Dorise' setup flashed through my mind, and I was thinking of close to a thousand dollars in equipment; but then I started to glean that he might be offering to buy me some equipment and I didn't want to blow him away with such a figure (although there are people walking down Bourbon Street who wouldn't blink at that amount...)
"Well, the little Roland Cube amps are about 75 bucks...of course, I would need a cable and a pickup for my guitar....or, I could plug in a microphone and both sing and play through it...."
He reached into his pocket and produced a 50 dollar bill.
Then, moving closer to me, and pulling his shades down so that I was looking him in the eyes, he said something like: "Look, I'm a professor, I teach chemistry at a college. I'm not rich; but I'm sure I make 20 times as much as you do. This is a lot of money, even to me. I want to invest it in your music. I want you to use it to get something that is going to help get ahead. I want people to hear your playing..."
Then, moving even closer, he said: "But I don't like to get F*** over...You need to promise me that you're not going to take this and go get high. When I see you -I'm going to be here all week- the next time I see you; I want you to be in better condition; with an amplifier or a new guitar or something...do you understand?"
"Do you want me to take that money back; It won't be pretty!?!" he said in the way of punctuation.
I didn't want him to take the money; but not as desperately as I would if I hadn't been making some tips already; a desperation which he might have construed as "He needs his fix."
I told him that the dope dealers don't even acknowledge me when I walk past them.
Satisfiied, he produced another 40 dollars, making the tip 94 bucks and the (new) "second largest tip ever" which I have gotten.
He reiterated what he said and threatened to beat me if he saw me with the same raggedy equipment in the next few days....to be continued tomorrow...

The NOLA Scowl

A Wake Up Call
People have told me that I always look so angry in the photos that they see of me (Alex in California)..
They have also said that I need to put on some weight (the Lidgleys of London), or "We need to get you a hat," (Tanya Huang) in reference to my hair "style."
I don't own a mirror.
I use my Dave Matthews Band CD as one, to make sure that I don't have barbeque sauce all over my face before I go to the ferry terminal.
Nobody in New Orleans would tell me if I had barbeque sauce or baked beans, for that matter, all over my face, as I walked the Quarter.
They would think that it was either my hustle: "Excuse me, sir, but you've got something on your face"
"Oh, thank you and, by the way, you wouldn't have a couple bucks you could spare, would you?"
Or they would think that it was my way of self expression, or "flying my freak flag," as the gays where I play on Bourbon Street would say.
Looking at the photo above, which was taken last night makes me wonder.
I remember not feeling angry at all when it was taken. I rather felt glad that my phone was working and I would soon be able to load photos onto this blog right from the street, like above...
Do I have to smile just to not look like I'm frowning; and then smile extra hard to crack a grin?
Now I have to appologize to all the denizens of the city who walk around with what I have called "the NOLA scowl" on their faces.
Maybe they are all just like me....

It is apparent to me that I need to start eating better; get some kind of hair style or a hat, and learn how to smile through the pain and laugh in the rain.
Straight To Bourbon
Yesterday, I left the library after the afternoons rains had stopped.
I was broke, but decided to busk totally sober, rather than to scavenge drinks off of Bourbon Street beforehand.
I still walked down that street though, and ran into a man who introduced himself as "Country," said that he had seen me before at the Rebuild Center, and who offered me some of what he was drinking.

I got to my spot to find that laying on the ground nearby was the remnants of a "Hand Grenade," which is the co-holder of the title of "strongest drink in the world" with the "Jester," of which the same claim is made.
Due to the design of the hand grenade container, it can be laying down and still retain about half of its contents, as was the case with this one, which was still cold.
So, in keeping with my habit of only drinking things with deadly sounding names (Hurricanes, Cobras, Colt 45's, Magnums, Earthquakes, etc) I was able to finish it before playing. If it were a Jester, I guess I would have just left it.
Still, I had a lot of trouble getting motivated.
I was so hungry that I felt light headed.
I had 7 cents.
I struggled through "Golden Slumbers," by The Beatles which produced a tip.
Then I struggled with "Comfortably Numb," by Pink Floyd, which produced a lady with a black Styrofoam container which she said was food from a fine restaurant and which she offered to me with the assurance that "We don't have germs, I promise..."
I already had the cold which I posted about yesterday, and it was making it harder to sing.
Then, as the one hour which I had to play before the curfew was winding down and I was playing "Franklins Tower," by The Grateful Dead and soloing extensively, I got my third and final tip as time expired.
Eat Your Heart Out
I went and got a Hurricane Lager at the Unique Boutique and then sat down to eat what turned out to be very good baked catfish with sweet potatos and green beans, but no germs, across the street from where CBD (which is Christina Friis and Brian Hudson) were playing.
On the way there, I had passed Stoker, who was sitting on his motorcycle and playing his amplified electric blues in the key of D.

In between Stoker and CBD the sounds of the two blended into a cacophony which couldn't have been good for either one of the performers.
Like the old Reeses Peanut Butter Cup commercial; He was getting Howling Wolf in their Adele, and they were getting Adele in his Howling Wolf.
I wanted to mention that to Stoker and suggest that he move down another half block, but I couldn't think of a way to say it without possibly angering him and provoking him to say "Why don't you tell THEM to move down a half block!" ...because they're right on the corner but you're just in an arbitrary spot...
Eating Out Of Their Hands
So, I finished my food from a fine restaurant and then went across the street to talk to Brian and Christina.
While I had been eating, they had played certain songs which people seemed to eat up themselves.
A song by Leonard Cohen called "Hallelujah," I think, and the Adele songs seemed to be like tourist magnets.

Brian With A Silver Man

I saw more than one couple walk past, and then the lady stop and grab the guys arm, turning her head back as if she suddenly recognized the song. The guy would make a motion to continue walking, but the lady would stand pat, or even move closer to the Adele, seeming to say: "Wait, this is that song that I love.." and, finally the guy having no choice but to return to her side, hold her closely and then fetch a bill from his wallet for the tip basket.
I was really impressed with the power of "the right song at the right time done the right way" (to quote Chris the recorder player from Saint Augustine, Florida) in action.
There is a charisma about Christina Friis, who is from Denmark, combined with Brian, who is from Austin, Texas, which is hard to quantify.

Christina With (to be fair) A Silver Man

Tip Jar Envy
Of course, I had tip jar envy, which I had to shake off telling myself "They've got it together, so of course they will be successfull; otherwise, why should I be trying so hard to get it together myself..."
Plus, I had forgotten that Christina had promised (on Facebook) to buy me a beer if I were to show up, and thankfully they had made enough in tips to be able to follow through on that, and I soon was on my way back to Unique Boutique and past Stoker, who said that he was starving...
I then told him that he was probably in a bad spot, that the sound of Christinas voice fading out and being replaced by his blues was just too drastic a contrast, like going from a gorgeous spring day into a dungeon (I didn't say "dungeon" but he saw my point and decided to move down a block) Poor Stoker, starving; and with all the equipment that I would need to become a "player" on Royal Street myself....

Going Under

The past few days; there have been thunderstorms.
The Mississippi River is rising and has already made it impossible to go under the bridge by the terminal to get out of the rain.
It is threatening to encroach upon my sleeping spot under the dock; or to make it impossible to get under there.
Tanya and Dorise came out to make a rare Monday appearance "Because it's Jazzfest," said the former.

"I Wrote That Song!"

It wasn't a busy Monday, and I only played until I made my first couple dollars and then knocked off, not wanting to get run off by the cops on such a slow night.
Those run-offs are like strikes on a batter; not worth accruing unless the amount of money made makes up for it.
Whine Not
Right now, my feet are wet; all my laundry is either wet or dirty.
I might have no place to escape the rain.
My food card is out of money.
I have come down with a cold.
I forgot to go to The Rebuild Center this afternoon to try to get new eye glasses through them; and will have to wait another week.
The Unity people have yet to contact me with any news about any housing that they might be able to arrange for me.
And, I'm broke.
But, I am not too unhappy, outside of the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach which I wake up with pretty frequently; with the words "I'm going to die someday," or something equally depressing, echoing in my head.
I spent time Sunday afternoon, huddled under a little overhang on Royal Street where Tanya and Dorise were performing.
They were in good spirits, maybe because the bass player from The Dave Matthews Band (above) came up to them and said "I wrote that song," after they had done a song called "#41" by his band. He posed for a picture with them.
There was a rather large black man, who seemed to be friends with Dorise hanging around, and soon we were all singing doo wop type songs, with Dorise encouraging me to take the lead part while she played and Tanya joined in, on violin.
The harmonies sounded good.
All the tourists seemed to be waiting out the rain storm, but they were still utilizing the time.
Dorise was playing songs which she wanted Tanya to learn, and was happy to have me singing the melody, so as to acquaint Tanyas ear to them; or to get her to recognize if she had heard them before.
Tanya, for her part, sang a few bars of songs which SHE wanted to learn, in between our songs.
It was kind of cute to hear how tentatively she sang; when she is so commanding on the violin.
It was fun and, even though it didn't put any money in my pocket; it was a valuable experience and it seems like I am one step closer to hooking up with any one of the talented musicians who come around Tanya and Dorise (to sit at the feet of those masters) and, who knows, I might have an up and coming young female* vocalist to work with in the near future.
*they just make better tips than the males, what can I say?
Ocarina Introduced

I broke out the ocarina, which I still have from when Alex in California sent it, on a whim and played it.
I think T&D were impressed with my playing of it (I find it easy) especially when I nailed the whistled part of Dock Of The Bay, by Otis Redding.
Happy Birthday, Mom; Please Send Money...
Tanya is going to mail off one of their latest CDs to my mom in Massachusetts; and it may just arrive in time for her birthday on the 3rd of May, how cool is that?
She has the envelopes already pre-stamped and ready to go at her house, of course she does; that is one professional outfit, there.
Ironically, I am thinking of calling my mom to ask for some money, as her gift is on its way. I will tell her that I am treading water and in danger of going under.
This is not just a figure of speach, as I might find myself sleeping 10 feet away from the Mississippi River tonight, should it storm again...