An Orange For Howard

• 4 Dollar Thursday Night
• Friday Night Flu By

Tim, my caseworker, who is home in Philadelphia for the holidays

Otherwise, I could have at least had a gift for one person in our building...

When I was looking for a gift that I could have sent off to my mom in time for it to have been there before Christmas; I felt cursed.

As if I was being punished by the consequences of having waited until the last minute; I could feel an almost malevolent spirit hovering over me, taunting me with: "Good luck with that, dude.."

I remembered when I was a young man with a decent job, and I would go to the mall to do my Christmas shopping. I have always been a procrastinator and so it was usually on Christmas Eve when I did this.

The idea then was simple; I had perhaps 500 dollars at my disposal, and would, before the night was over, have found gifts for "everyone."

After the first couple of purchases, the money would become easier to part with.

I would have paid the extra few bucks to have them gift-wrapped right there at the register by, usually a young lady, who would usually wrap them very well; tight, snug corners, ribbons that twanged when you pulled them, and bows.

The paper, of course, would depict some kind of generic Christmas scene: "Do you want the snowmen or the reindeer?"

This would be what might be called "buying" ones way through the season -build your wallet; and the gifts will come...

It was the upper middle class way, the one that I had been indoctrinated into. You can buy your way through anything; just spend the extra amount and stop worrying about it; put complete insurance coverage on your car, so you don't have to worry about the idiot with no insurance who might hit you, type of thing.

I can remember feeling lighter and happier as the gifts piled up in my arms: "I've got my mom and dad, and my sister; now I just need something for my best friend..." I might have been confusing this feeling with "The Christmas Spirit."

Fast-forward to 2017, and I'm remiss because I hadn't thought ahead enough to have found a picture of my mom on Facebook a couple weeks ago and drawn her in pencil on paper and sent it off in time.

Everything about the idea, including the fact that the resulting drawing would weigh only a few ounces and be cheap to mail, seemed right. Last night, way too late, it did.

This is the kind of gift that would have had me walking on thin ice, back in the upper middle class days. "I got him a gift certificate to have the windows on his car tinted that I paid 60 bucks for, and he gave me a picture that he drew...is he some kind of cheapskate, or what?!?" But, we have all matured so much since then, and changed our perspectives...

I used to, beginning in 1984, after I had bought my first 4-track cassette recorder, make a "Christmas album" of my music.

I would buy blank cassettes from a certain studio that sold them in custom time lengths. If my cassette ran 17:18 on one side, and 18:40 on the other, then I would order maybe 50 blank cassettes that were 19 minutes a side, and copy my songs onto them.

I would then draw the cover picture and write out the lyrics and other sundries, onto a sheet of paper that could be folded x number of times over so that they could be stuffed into the clear plastic cases, and would fold out, just like the real thing; only on flimsy paper rather than thicker glossy stock.

Up to 50 people on my list would get one of these; often through the mail.

But, for the most part, I would also get most everyone a "real" gift, too.

When I was walking home the night before, I was struck by a feeling of hunger so strong that it felt like someone was wringing my stomach like you would a towel. A gnawing hunger.
A lot of people might have taken this as a sign that they needed to eat right away. I have learned otherwise, though.

These cravings are artifacts of having overeaten and, in some sense, stretched out the stomach lining the day before. It is an appetite created after a huge meal is digested, leaving an empty stomach in its wake, and is the bodies' way of asking for another one. ...Keep it coming, love...

When I got back to the apartment, I drank some orange juice. A feeling of well being came over me over the next few minutes that I realized I hadn't felt in a while.

I felt good enough to go out and busk. It was a 4 dollar night. It felt just like the 24 dollar nights I have had, minus the one person who throws a 20 dollar bill in the basket.

Last (Friday) night, I felt weak and feverish. I seem to have some kind of flu that recedes into the background, perhaps first thing in the morning after a hot shower, and then regains control over me as the day wears on and I fatigue.

I would have been going out to busk only for the money, had I done so. I could only see myself fecklessly strumming simple chords and singing: "I feel like crap and don't want to be doing this..." as far as what I might have done once out there.

Now it is Saturday evening, and I feel considerably better.

I was worrying about what I could possibly get to give Howard for Christmas, given the additional handicap of my not having made any money on a Friday night.

I fell asleep with NPR radio on.

I woke up this morning as their "travel" writer/journalist was being featured, talking to people from other countries about their Christmas traditions, and comparing them.

Someone from Norway was being interviewed and had mentioned that, when she was a child, she might get an orange in her stocking. She immediately clarified the fact that this was considered a good gift, in the middle of winter in Norway, because of them having to be imported from exotic places, and were valued more than the $1.19 per each item that they would be to someone in this day and age.

I decided then, that oranges would be my gift to Howard, barring my having a $50+ outing tonight.
Not just one orange, but as many as I can swing. I'm just going to have to tell him that I was flat on my back with the flu; lucky to even have had the bus fare to make it there for the occasion; and then mention how in Scandinavia, back in the day, oranges were prized as Christmas gifts, by some.

I have to get something. It really is the thought that counts, in this case. What can he expect from a guy who has recently shown up there, trying to skeeze bus fare so he could get back home? A pomegranate?

Then, as the fever broke this morning, a better idea came:

I will bring my guitar and harmonica with me and perform a special song for Howard.

It will be: "This Guy's In Love With You," by Herb Alpert.

Howard told me a story once, about when he was in Korea, when he was in his 20's.

He had had some kind of relationship with a Korean girl, and had mentioned that there was this certain song "...You're probably not old enough to have heard it; but it was this silly song by Herb Alpert; and Herb Alpert was known as a good musician, but at one point he decided to try to sing this song, maybe his manager thought it would be a good move commercially; and it's not a very good song, but it was one of the songs that got played a lot at the base where I was stationed; and I had it stuck in my around the time that I was seeing this girl, and, I don't know, it became kind of like 'our' song and; well, I won't bore you any more with my stories, it's just funny how some things stay with you after all those years...."
The name of the song didn't ring a bell with me when he told me it, but, after I had Googled it and downloaded a copy, I could have "named" that tune after the first 2 beats.

I can remember hearing it as a small child. To my 7 year old ears, "the sky" was in love with someone. You see the sky? Well, the sky's in love with you...

It kind of corroborated Jimi Hendrix singing "Excuse me while I kiss the sky," as if the two artists had drank from the same well of creativity.

I beg to differ with Howard on one point, though: It is a very good song.


It might not have given the guy a chance to showcase his trombone (or is that a trumpet?) chops, and it might have been a knee-jerk reaction to disparage any artist who isn't known for singing's attempt to do so: "Oh, God, he's gonna try to sing now?!? Stick to the trumpet Herb!!" and assume that it is schmaltz; but...it's not a bad song at all. The Brady Bunch singing: "It's Time To Change," well -that's a different kettle of fish .

Herb's is probably one of the more memorable melodies of the past century.

Colors:Equalize:Burn -voila!!

And, learning it over the next couple of days will be a labor of love. "Geez, we went and got him this nice bike at Wal-Mart, and he sings me some song in exchange; and it's from the early 50's and never was really a good song to begin with...yikes! To tell you the truth, I would rather have gotten some fruit..." I can hear it now....

I'll call my mom and wish her a happy holiday, and thank her for making my trip to Gretna possible.

An arctic breeze is blowing in; the temperature has dropped maybe 20 degrees in the past 2 hours.
I will need to see how close to the 43 degree busking cutoff temperature it is...any excuse to stay in drinking juice and learning a new song...