Tune-A-Day

 24th day sober. What I'd told Tom about looking for used music books at the Recycle Book Store seemed like such a good idea that when I woke up at 1, I decided to take the books I'd put in a bag to take there, and go there while it's still relatively early in the day. 

I packed a few small things to drop off at the post office downtown, and was out the door at a quarter to 3. I took some quarters with me, because the usual lunch truck was out by the entrance to the complex and I got a breakfast sandwich for $2. 

I locked the bike at the post office and got the packages out. An old white guy came up and asked me, "Pardon me, do you know where the post office is?" I pointed to the building he was right in front of, and said, "That's it". Yet another reminder of how great sobriety is. 

I went over to Recycle Books and handed my books over and looked through the bargain shelf near the door. When the guy had evaluated my books he said I had $33 in store credit. I looked through the music books and all I found that I was interested in was a copy of the "Tune A Day" method which at least has some neat written music to work through. I got that one, plus one by L. Sprague De Camp about the "golden age" of American inventors from about 1830 to WWI, and one on Charles Dickens' descriptions and commentaries on prisons in his time. Those last two should provide interesting reading when the internet winks out. 

Before hitting the book store I'd gone to Whole Foods in hopes of buying some lecithin. This is something that could always be found in any health food store in Hawaii, but even with one of the employees helping I could not find it. It's supposed to be good for fatty liver which is why I'm buying it. I've taken it before and it's even fairly tasty. 

After all that, I went to Nijiya and got a bunch of things, and rode back here. It's windy as hell out there, in keeping with it being the End Times. Honestly, I wonder if a big manifestation of global warming will be insane winds? 

At least I stopped to investigate a Home Depot moving type cardboard box that turned out to be full of clothes and all pretty much my size, by the Goodwill complex on 7th. I got a pair of shorts, two pairs of pants I'll have to try for size, a pair of dress pants, some "waffle weave" long sleeve shirts for the winter months, and a neat pair of shorts I'm wearing now. And an interesting looking pair of sweat pants with a very bright white stripe down each leg - this coming winter I might see if I can just wear sweat pants all the time so they might come in useful. The stuff must have just been dropped off and the nice middle-class people who left it had washed everything.  I'm wearing the shorts now and they're nice. It's easy $100 worth of clothes even if I'd bought them in a discount or thrift store. 

So while I mailed 3 small things off today, I have a bunch of large packages, two of which will have to be handed off to FedEx tomorrow. Also packed tomorrow. I'm coming up with a schedule that works and allows for clarinet practice. It seems to be coalescing into something like: Get up, pack things, somewhere in there eat some stuff, then head out for the post office and FedEx around 6 PM (traffic's lighter and the dumpster diving better) get back here, relax a bit maybe eat something, then clarinet practice, then do my day's (night's?) Ebay listings. 

I've only just gotten us out of the doghouse with Ebay, and we're back to "above average" but it's hanging by a thread. I think the mistake I made in the past is, for instance, I have two boxes that need to be shipped tomorrow or they go overdue. In the past, I'd *pack* them the day they're due, but might not actually ship them until the day after. Or the day after that. Since Ebay's tracking packages fairly well, I think that's what's been giving us an over 11% late shipping rate. So it's pack them tomorrow, but they get sent off tomorrow also. 

Thursdays are problematical because for me, I simply must go to the bank on Thursday. It makes my week work out right. To the extent that if I miss a Thursday, I'll deposit 2 checks the next Thursday. So on a Thursday I can at least take some small things with me to drop off at the good old 1930s Thank You FDR post office downtown. 

Now, the clarinet. Why the fuck am I suddenly playing the clarinet? It's not all that sudden, actually. It started in high school. The cool kids got to play clarinet and they never let us forget it, since for some reason they wore their mouthpieces around their necks with reeds on, and would randomly go "WEEEEEET!!" in class. The teachers didn't even come down on them for it, not like it'd be if I whipped out my trumpet mouthpiece and did a spit-solo of an Eagles guitar riff - that'd warrant a trip to the principal at least and I was no fool, just a loser who got stuck with trumpet. 

My last time living under a parent's roof I went to the local Radio Shack which sold a few instruments, and bought a recorder, an "Aulos" which I practiced scales on. I had trouble going from scales to tunes, though. But at least my father told me at first I sounded awful and was starting to sound pretty good. 

While I was Trying To Do The Right Thing(tm) (BTW don't do this) and wasting tons of time in college, as I started to burn out, I started to have fantasies of just learning guitar and just playing and teaching guitar, because in the US guitar is pretty much the default instrument. I finally *did* burn out and motorcycles became my thing. 

Once I was on the mainland, I rode motorcycles a lot (and they're not as super-cool and you'd think, I almost think they ought to be called Nerdcycles) I had fantasies of doing something "really cool" like, if I could play some instrument... I was thinking something like trumpet or clarinet, but was kind of unclear. Just some "cool" instrument. 

Then I met The Moth. I'd gone up to Venice Beach to walk around and enjoy the weirdness, and came upon an old guy who looked like he'd stepped out of the 1940s. He looked like a moth, all brown. He wore a suit, with matching hat, and had a musical instrument in his hands. I stood there with my motorcycle helmet dangling from my hand and gawked. "Is that a clarinet?" I asked, and he said it was. Then he put the mouthpiece in his mouth with a *click* and I saw that his front teeth were worn down, maybe from having a clarinet mouthpiece in there so much. He played, and I don't know what he was playing; probably some old 1940s stuff but the tone was amazing. I continued to gawk, and people kept dropping money in the container he had there. I didn't put any money in, maybe I didn't have any cash, or was too astounded. 

Life wended on, and I became a rising start in that sport I did. I was living in Los Angeles by now and there was a place locally where a guy was restoring pinball machines. He told me about learning guitar. You have to just mechanically practice and practice and practice, and pretty soon it's automated and you can think about higher-level things. 

At one point I was at one of those welcoming things cities hold for athletes, where they do their local songs and dances and so on, and this one was in Barcelona. There was someone playing what I believe was a shawm, a single-reed instrument that's the ancestor of modern reed instruments. I just thought it sounded cool as hell. I wanted one, but had no idea of how to go about finding one. 

When I was done with the sport and living in Scottsdale, Arizona, I actually bought a Buffet B12 (popular beginner clarinet) and I think saw a guy about lessons but I don't remember if I actually took any lessons, and I felt self-conscious about practicing in my apartment. I could have practiced in the park or at the local college or anywhere but I think there was something deeper going on. 

I think to want to practice involves having a belief that one is good enough, that one *can* improve and get places through the simple application of a little work. If a person has had a lifetime of hard work amounting to nothing, which is so often the case in our wonderful modern society and economy, then why try? 

It's not obvious, but I think being a diligent pupil in a musical instrument takes a certain amount of confidence in oneself. I'd been served so much failure in my life that it's hard to be interested in something unless it's just about something I'd do for free anyway. 

So I put myself into the trenches. I picked an instrument that is just damned hard, trumpet, and I practiced and went out there and busked and sounded like hell and would make $5 in an afternoon, and I kept at it. And what really showed me how to practice was the first several months of 2020, when I knew I could not busk, but I could work on solving some things I wanted to solve and work toward some goals, and I achieved all I'd set out to. And now I know I can do it. 

When I was living in Sunnyvale, I could see the 2007-08 crash coming and at one point got a clarinet again and went to Mr. Sowlakis for lessons. But then the crash happened and I wasn't going to be able to make a living on the street with music that soon - it turns out to take some serious time to mature as a busker. I had to sell everything and move and I sold my new clarinet to Mr. Sowlakis for a good markdown of course, and that was that, for the time being. 

The last time I saw him for a lesson he hit my fingers with a pencil so ... I think I can get enough how-to's off of YouTube. I still like him though and once he told me that every time he went to Hawaii (he plays clarinet and sax) he always came back with more money than he'd left with. 

I'm fortunate in that I've ground my way along in this lousy economy long enough that I'm near retirement age. I can rent a room or some kind of small place to live back home and then just busk for day-to-day money and I won't need a lot. $10-$20 a day will be plenty. So the pressure of "you must be a success - or else!" is gone. 

My plan is this: Learn clarinet, and then also, once my skills are up there, learn the soprano sax. Forget all those lower saxes, they're too hard to carry around on a bike or the bus. I've been watching a lot of YouTube videos of soprano, and even higher-pitched, saxes and they sound heavenly. Yeah you can bend the pitch around on a soprano like crazy (it's almost like a shakuhachi) and that's why they caution beginners to stay away from them, but to me that seems more like a feature than a bug. 

The fortunate thing is, as I've mentioned, thanks to Kenny G., Asians are nuts over the soprano sax. So while I might get kicked off of Kalakaua Avenue if I showed up with and alto or a tenor, a soprano ought to be fine, along with of course a clarinet. In fact when I was back there in 03, I actually tried busking with a clarinet, only being able to play a few scales. And I actually got a few dollars. 

In fact, in Mountain View, playing clarinet, I had an old guy hover around who said the clarinet has "such a nice tone". I was out there mainly to play "Harry Truman" by the band Chicago, to help Obama get elected for a 2nd time and it worked.  My home made transverse PVC flute only got an "It's so irritating" from a guy and as for trumpet, a guy, probably a player or teacher, ranted that I was flat or something like that and then quickly corrected himself and said, "But keep going with it!". 

Another thing I'm going to blame is good old alcohol. There's something about the mainland that's really conducive to drinking. If getting a good job, rising up in life, is based on who you know, then how is mainland society supposed to work when it's based on everyone being a stranger? Based on everyone, if they can bring themselves to interact with anyone, it's to use them in some way? It's a frantic, lonely place. No wonder everyone drinks. 

But alcohol is really good for screwing things up. Get home from work, have a couple-few beers, and there goes any "window" for practicing. I didn't do that back in Hawaii. I'd read a book or go over to the college and noodle around on their pianos or something. 

And college was almost as bad as alcohol because it takes up a tremendous amount of time and money, and the more college you go to, the less you make! Then you've got to pay back the money you borrowed, on less pay than you'd make as a high school dropout.

I got 10 things together to list, then settled in with an episode of Ken Burns' "Jazz" and got a little over an hour's practice in. I figured out why my A note didn't sound very good yesterday: I'd been pressing down a key on the back when I needed to press a key on the front. It sounds a lot better that way. 

It was past 3AM when I got to work on the listings, but somehow it was OK because I'd gotten my clarinet practice done.