Yesterday, I had felt too depressed to even write a blog post.
My outlook was somewhat bolstered after I checked my e-mail and saw that my mother had asked for an address to which to send documents in order that I can get a Louisiana state ID; which would be an important step towards my re-joining the human race, from which I have been disenfranchised for the past 7 years or so.
This told me, not only that my mom reads this blog, but also fanned a tiny spark of hope which I hold that I might someday be able to hold a job and avail myself to housing and medical care and other things which are linked to the documentation of citizenship in the human race.
Last night, I was at the Lilly Spot just after sundown.
It being a Sunday night, I was prepared for a slow night, which might die off earlier than usual.
I was in a pretty good mood for playing for one of the few times in the past couple weeks.
I had woken up with only 5 dollars on me, but had a brand new pair of Wrangler jeans which I had bought off of a petite black lady, who rides a bike with a large basket on the handlebars, and who had wanted only 4 dollars for them early Sunday morning.
They are the second pair which I have bought off her and both were within an inch of my size. She has a good eye for body sizes and had sought me out with this pair, intercepting me by the Unique Boutique at about 2 a.m.
I had only 9 dollars on me, but couldn't resist a pair of 30x32 jeans which had a price tag of $15.50 (compare at $28.00) still on them.
11 Dollar Saturday
I had 9 dollars on me after having made 11 that night.
I had drank the 5 dollars which I had woken up with, along with 2 more, reducing my cash reserve to that amount.
I would be waking up again with 5 dollars on Sunday, but I wasn't too discouraged.
I had made strides in getting my playing and singing back up to speed, after having had lackluster nights, following my illness and then, while toting the dog around, which netted so much money that I really didn't have to busk.
At one point, a young couple came by and asked me if I could play the M.I.T. fight song.
"The M.I.T. fight song? Are you kidding me?!? Those techno-dweebs don't fight, unless it's in cyberspace!"
This brought a laugh from them.
"I could make one up," I said, and then played the University of Michigan fight song, while singing something like "We're not so athletic; we're mostly into technology; but if we can outsmart you on the field we will...ta da da da da da da...." (sung to the tune of the Michigan fight song).
They dropped me 3 of what would turn out to be the 11 dollars and then walked off, with a video of me doing the fight song on their phone.
The very next couple of young guys to come along stopped and said "Hey, we just heard you doing our fight song; we go to Michigan!" and dropped 2 more of what would turn out to be 11 dollars.
This was the kind of busking magic which can make the total amount of earnings not matter as much at the end of the night; and infuse you with a sense that you are in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.....still 11 bucks kind of sucks on a Saturday night....but it is August....
I then went to the sign spot, where I began to be bothered by ants and two different varieties of flies soon after the sun came up.
I was surrounded by goodies, in the form of Cliff Bars, oatmeal with flax packets, a gallon of water and all kinds of food. I slept fitfully for as long as I could stand it; which was until about noon.
Sunday night, I kicked myself in the ass, pulled myself up by the bootstraps and asked myself: "Are you going to just give up and fade away; or are you going to try to play your ass off; despite the circumstances?!?"
I decided, at one point to "stay in the moment and not give up."
I felt like someone who is at the gym, but is just staring out a window, debating with himself whether or not he even wants to work out that day.
I decided to give it my "all" and probably made only about another 11 dollars; but I felt great in a brand new pair of black Wrangler relax fit jeans. Some things money just can't buy
My outlook was somewhat bolstered after I checked my e-mail and saw that my mother had asked for an address to which to send documents in order that I can get a Louisiana state ID; which would be an important step towards my re-joining the human race, from which I have been disenfranchised for the past 7 years or so.
This told me, not only that my mom reads this blog, but also fanned a tiny spark of hope which I hold that I might someday be able to hold a job and avail myself to housing and medical care and other things which are linked to the documentation of citizenship in the human race.
Last night, I was at the Lilly Spot just after sundown.
It being a Sunday night, I was prepared for a slow night, which might die off earlier than usual.
I was in a pretty good mood for playing for one of the few times in the past couple weeks.
I had woken up with only 5 dollars on me, but had a brand new pair of Wrangler jeans which I had bought off of a petite black lady, who rides a bike with a large basket on the handlebars, and who had wanted only 4 dollars for them early Sunday morning.
They are the second pair which I have bought off her and both were within an inch of my size. She has a good eye for body sizes and had sought me out with this pair, intercepting me by the Unique Boutique at about 2 a.m.
I had only 9 dollars on me, but couldn't resist a pair of 30x32 jeans which had a price tag of $15.50 (compare at $28.00) still on them.
11 Dollar Saturday
I had 9 dollars on me after having made 11 that night.
I had drank the 5 dollars which I had woken up with, along with 2 more, reducing my cash reserve to that amount.
I would be waking up again with 5 dollars on Sunday, but I wasn't too discouraged.
I had made strides in getting my playing and singing back up to speed, after having had lackluster nights, following my illness and then, while toting the dog around, which netted so much money that I really didn't have to busk.
At one point, a young couple came by and asked me if I could play the M.I.T. fight song.
"The M.I.T. fight song? Are you kidding me?!? Those techno-dweebs don't fight, unless it's in cyberspace!"
This brought a laugh from them.
"I could make one up," I said, and then played the University of Michigan fight song, while singing something like "We're not so athletic; we're mostly into technology; but if we can outsmart you on the field we will...ta da da da da da da...." (sung to the tune of the Michigan fight song).
They dropped me 3 of what would turn out to be the 11 dollars and then walked off, with a video of me doing the fight song on their phone.
The very next couple of young guys to come along stopped and said "Hey, we just heard you doing our fight song; we go to Michigan!" and dropped 2 more of what would turn out to be 11 dollars.
This was the kind of busking magic which can make the total amount of earnings not matter as much at the end of the night; and infuse you with a sense that you are in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.....still 11 bucks kind of sucks on a Saturday night....but it is August....
I then went to the sign spot, where I began to be bothered by ants and two different varieties of flies soon after the sun came up.
I was surrounded by goodies, in the form of Cliff Bars, oatmeal with flax packets, a gallon of water and all kinds of food. I slept fitfully for as long as I could stand it; which was until about noon.
Sunday night, I kicked myself in the ass, pulled myself up by the bootstraps and asked myself: "Are you going to just give up and fade away; or are you going to try to play your ass off; despite the circumstances?!?"
I decided, at one point to "stay in the moment and not give up."
I felt like someone who is at the gym, but is just staring out a window, debating with himself whether or not he even wants to work out that day.
I decided to give it my "all" and probably made only about another 11 dollars; but I felt great in a brand new pair of black Wrangler relax fit jeans. Some things money just can't buy
No comments:
Post a Comment
Only rude and disrespectful comments will be replied to rudely and disrespectfully. Personal attacks will be replied to in kind, with the goal of providing satisfaction to the attacker.