Thursday, June 24, 2010

So Much For Seed Money

Howard You Respond?
Last night, I sat down to play. My strings were dull.
Along came Howard, an elderly guy, who walks with a cane, mostly to and from, the beer store.
He saw that I was starting out with just change, and he offered to throw his 2 dollars into my case, to "seed" it, (which gives people the idea that the musician is accepting tips, and makes them thing that a couple people have already shown their approval.)
After I had fussed with tuning my strings for a half hour, during which only a hand full of people walked by, Howard suggested that "we" try a new spot.
I got the impression that he was planning upon sitting beside me for a while. This can be good or bad for the musician; usually bad.
Howard suggested also, that we use the two dollars to get a couple of beers, and THEN go to the new spot. We did. So much for "seed money."
The new spot had more foot traffic. I made a couple of bucks, but then realised that I owed them to Howard. He told me not to worry about paying him back, but rather, to worry about taking the present two bucks to get more beer.
Howard walks with difficulty, and so, it was decided that he would stay and guard the spot, while I ran to the beer store. It occurred to me, while I was doing so, that, had I declined his offer to start me off with 2 bucks, then I would have had a choice of how to spend the two which I made. I was wondering if I had been the victim of a clever hustle, by the elderly man, who walks with a cane. I was going to have two beers in me, yet, no money.
"There's Another Beer!"
I played longer, without success until a point when Howard began to beg from the people who walked by. As I played, and if they seemed to be ready to pass on by without tipping me, h would hit them with a "Say, could you help us out with some change." A few people did.
With every dollar that went into the case, Howard said "There's another beer."
After hearing a couple of such utterances, I broke the news to him that I wanted to keep some money to have when I woke up in the morning, and wasn't planning upon spending it all on beer. Howard wanted his 'half,' at this point, feeling that he had helped me acquire it.
I decided to call it quits then; to cut my loss and go to Serda's Coffee, for their Open Songwriter's Night.
Howard decided to spend his "half" on beer at another establishment, then meet me at Serda's. His plan was to show me his sleeping spot. He guaranteed that I would love it. Safe, private and quiet it purportedly was, though we had to be "up and out by 5:30am."
"I don't care how safe and private and quiet it is; I'm not getting up at 5:30am, It's already midnight" I told him. I had just finished playing at the Songwriter's Open Mic Night. He told me that we could actually sleep in longer than that. My curiosity was peaked enough to walk with him to his spot.
Open mic night had gone well, though not as well as the previous week. It may have had something to do with my dull strings, and the fact that we arrived there so late, that the people were pretty much open-miced out by then. I had spent the last of my money on coffee and was "totally" broke, as I walked with Howard to his spot. I realised that "we" hadn't had a very great night at all, 'cept for the 5 beers each, which came our way.
Howard's Spot
It was pretty much as he had promised, and on church property. Howard, however, babbled drunkenly into the morning (kind of like someone else I know,) keeping me awake and preventing me from listening to my radio. He also thrashed around, when he did sleep (kind of like someone else I know,) forcing me off of the sheet, to where I felt safe from being woken up by him kicking, or otherwise coming into contact with me. He reminded me of a male version of that certain character, whom I believe is in St. Augustine, and who still has a claim upon my heart.
When 5:30 am. came around, and Howard insisted that we leave, (because mothers were liable to bring their children for daycare that early,) I felt like I had been deceived, and that I also had spent my last night sleeping at Howard's spot.
I woke up with $0.00.
I jumped on the Water Street ramp and made 2 bucks, before breakfast at the Presbyterian.
Tonight, I must shoo him away from my playing spot, as well -nothing personal, I like the guy- I just don't like people begging while I accompany them musically, I've learned.
"There's 7 More Beers!"
I need string money. My gig is in two days. I may try to call Ben, the ambulance driver to see if he could lend me some strings, that I could use tonight, Friday, and at the gig Saturday. The gig pays 30 bucks, plus tips. Strings are only 7 bucks.
"There's 7 more beers!," right Howard?

2 comments:

  1. I don't even know you and I look forward to your blog post every day. I used to live in Mobile and it's so interesting to hear how you encounter these places.

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  2. daniel.. its ben.. i got you two sets of strings and came looking for you for a whole hour.. went to 15 place and everything but i couldnt find you. im not working today but i went looking for you this morning when i got off. anyway, i left the strings with porsha.. shes working downtown today. shes got'em, shes gonna be looking for you.

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