347th day sober. Last night I found a documentary on YouTube called "The Violent Universe" with Carl Sagan, from 1969. I'd heard of it, but thought I'd never get to see it. It was fascinating and didn't just talk about things but you "went" down into the gold mine a mile below the surface to visit the tank of fluid to "catch" muons and you "sat" in the feed point of the 200-inch Palomar telescope with the scientist using it to capture spectra. Pulsars had very recently been discovered in 1969, and there was the scientist who discovered them and her Ph.D. supervisor. Here was the noted comet discoverer Seki in Japan, where you "visited" his rooftop observatory, and listened to a bit of his classical guitar playing, as that's how he made his actual living at the time.
On this last I must note that if the money and solid living is in "high tech" then why do I keep coming across instances of the arts supporting "high tech" which is done at a loss?
Once I was done watching The Violent Universe I got about a half-hour of practice in, just to do a bit and make sure the trumpet was swabbed out for the next day.
I woke up around 2:30, had my coffee and nuts, and weighed out 7 bags of about 1-lb each of brown rice. Brown rice doesn't keep forever so this stuff was scheduled to pass on. I loaded up the trumpet and tip bag and headed for downtown, dropped off bags of brown rice at the little free libraries and picking up a few books.
I got to Whole Foods and had a good half-hour before I had to start for the train station, so I went in and bought a small can of coffee and a 6-pack of club soda which was used to weigh down my tip box because it was quite windy. I played for 20 minutes or so and someone dropped a $5, then the Trump Stump showed up on her bike. She was blasting the song "London Calling" by The Clash, and did not turn it off when she was noodling around with her bike so I kept playing, nice and loud. This pissed her off but she didn't turn down her radio until she was about to go in, and then I got quieter. Once she was in and the damn thing was off, I played a bit more but got no more tips.
I went over to the train station and took the train to Sunnyvale, noting that on the weekends, trains leave Diridon at 12-after and leave Sunnyvale at 21-after so it's easy to remember.
I walked over to Murphy St. and the Thai place guy was there and I said Hi and he was happy to see me. "Sure, set up and play!" he said. So I did. And tips started coming in. When they slowed down, I moved a bit closer to the middle, instead of being out at the end, of the street and more tips came in. I thought the people at the "Off The Rails" restaurant/bar might object, but instead one of the gals working there came out and tipped me $10. Things seemed to be working pretty well.
Eventually as it got close to 8, things slowed down a bit and I figured I'd played enough. I wish I'd kept track of what time I started, but I figure I played a bit over an hour. So I packed up and went back to the train station and while waiting, counted the money. I'd made $55 playing there. And no one had said anything about my being a bother; it was nothing but compliments.
I was back in San Jose in no time and walked back to Whole Foods for some shopping. It was shopping I'd have done anyway but instead of "bank" money it was "busking" money I spent, which was a pretty good feeling.
I couldn't stop by the Amazon place for bubble mailers because they're closing earlier on weekends now, and it was 9PM or, due to the "wartime 3-hour shift", what felt like midnight. I meandered home by my usual route, avoiding the random zombies and no-goods that are always out there. In Japantown, a female bum called out, "You gotta light??" and I said I didn't as I rode by. Why do they always want a damn light? If you're going to take up smoking as a lifestyle, doesn't it make sense to make sure you've matches and lighters and backups for same? I know most of the time it's a way to try to get you talking, so they can figure out if you're worth robbing, but they seem to always genuinely be out of matches anyway. Imagine that hungry-ghost life, always seeking that next cigarette, that next can of cheap malt liquor.
I got back here OK and put things away and had salmon, cheese, and cucumber slices for dinner. This is the 2nd day I've gone all day on just my wake-up coffee and nuts, then eaten a fairly decent meal then not wanted to eat again until morning.
Today's freebee is one of those Sterilite plastic drawer things, not one of the cheapo translucent ones but a rather nice grey one. Pretty clean too; just needs a wiping out and some ink cleaned out of the uppermost drawer with some alcohol. In fact, I think I have an idea as to how to best use it. We have a few first-aid kits around here that are awkward to get into and have drawers that open the opposite way than would make sense. Plus the stuff's all jumbled up in 'em. I can take this drawer thing, put some sturdy tape over the snap-together joints and put a handle on the top so if needed a person can grab it and take it out to the parking lot etc., and put labels on each drawer for things like antiseptic, gauze and larger bandages, eye wash, OTC medicines, etc. Then it can sit on the table in the bathroom so everyone who uses the bathroom (Ken and I) will always know where it is, due to looking at it each time.
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