I woke up at 3:30 woops no, 4:30. I wanted to be out the door at 5, Oh joy.
By the time I was out the door it was 5:30, but I only had to be at FedEx before 6, to drop off a box containing $1000+ of capacitors going to MIT.
I got back here and went through a ton of scenarios; I wanted to go busk in Mountain View, and I debated whether to walk to the light rail, ride the bike to the light rail and take it along, ride down to Whole Foods and take the train, or take the 500 bus ....
I ended up riding the bike to Whole Foods by the quickest route, over the hill that overlooks Bellermine, and since I'd chewed my sugar-free gum on the way, my mouth was all clean and I was ready to go when I got there.
Skinny Petition Guy was there but we're friends now so no worries.
There were lots of people going in and out shopping, but the tips were very slow. Interestingly, I got two of the larger tips, a $5 and a $10, from Muslim-looking guys, while or right after playing "Morning Has Broken" by Cat Stevens, a musician who famously converted to Islam. I'll need to learn more of his stuff because he wrote some really nice songs, and we had his albums "Tea For The Tillerman" and "Teaser And The Firecat" around the house when I was a kid.
Petition Guy and I talked a bit, and he was especially congenial since I'd given him some pens. I seem to buy pens faster than I can use them up, so I'm happy to share.
I put in my hour and a half and as always, it was worth it because it's such good practice and besides, I learned a new son, "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head". I remember when I was little I bugged and bugged and bugged my mother for a guitar. So I finally got my guitar, a Sears Silvertone which most guitarists concur is one of the biggest hunks of shit ever made. It was way too big for me, or I too small for it, and those steel strings were much better suited to slicing cheese than for an 8 or 9 year old to learn chords.
My mom, in frustration, finally took me to a teacher, a nice lady with a guitar of her own with black nylon strings, and which was only a little bit oversized for me. She wanted me to learn "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" which I figured was kind of a dig at my crying in frustration. Later, there was a movie about Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid and for some reason this song is played at the end of the movie. Of course we had to see it because it was shown at the Mormon-owned theater in La'ie where my mom had a job, and free or cheap tickets, that job being conditional on our becoming Mormon so it didn't last, but having Mom work at the movie theater was pretty cool there for a while.
And here it was, my fingers going in mostly the right places, and I could play it.
Slow tips or not, after an hour and a half I'd done enough and I counted up: $43.31 making it pretty exactly $100 for the weekend. And lots of compliments on my playing.
I went in and got meatloaf and some chicken bits and broccoli and a couple of curried shrimp, and a pint of Guinness and went upstairs to eat. I actually ate all that too.
I went back downstairs and hung out with Petition Guy for a bit, and he told me all this stuff about his rather awful life. How he married some gal in Africa who's 30-odd years younger than him, how useless she and their daughter is, how his "life's work" a bunch of photographs and stuff, file cabinets full, are in a storage in Santa Cruz with her stuff stuffed in front so he can't get at his, how his car has a cracked head so he can only drive it short distances, how his computer's broken too, and the room he lives in is full of mold so he's dizzy all the time, yadda yadda.
How much of this is self-imposed! He won't buy a used computer but has to have a new one with Apple Care. He won't store his stuff in the rather nice storage place Ken found where you can get a huge space for $300 a month, because Milpitas is "at sea level". How he won't live in an apartment because of all the electromagnetic fields .... And marrying someone in Africa who's 30-odd years his junior... she was 21 or so, he says. I said in the 50s when my parents married, if you got to 21 or so without being married, it was because no one wanted you. So .....
By this time Whole Foods was closing up so I left for home. On Hedding Street I found a whole garage sale worth of stuff with a big sign, "FREE STUFF" and all I found I wanted was some paper bubble mailers. There were dressers, clothing, shoes, even some kind of motorized juicer thing. But in a Depression economy, no one wants that.