Gloomy NYE

 It's New Year's Eve. The packages I packed 2 days ago are still sitting here, and will sit until Tuesday when I'll dash to the post office and FedEx to ship them, during the one non-rainy slot (mid-day) of the foreseeable week. 

At least sales have been good, and I listed my 25 things last night. 

I also watched the last hour of a sort of documentary on one "Chris Chan" who's this guy who started out weird and got weirder - criminally so. People like him are the natural outcome of our hyper-individualistic society where at most you have the "nuclear" family if you even have that. No grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews, etc. No having a sort of "family" in the neighborhood in the form of people you associate with in clubs, churches, doing business, sports, etc. Compare and contrast Hawaii where there's at least enough of a remnant of non-American cultures that in common use all older males are "unko" or uncle, older gals are "auntie", and so on. 

Another example is my playing in Christmas In The Park where about 99% of the people milling around are Hispanic and you never saw such a well-behaved bunch of kids and even down to babies in strollers, in your life. I can play for an hour there and might see one fussing kid. 

I also read a bit more of "Going Solo" by Roald Dahl, and am up to where he's crashed, gotten over the crash which was quite an order involving weeks on end being blind and having his nose rebuilt *again* and then being told essentially, "Here's your new plane" and having to figure out a Spitfire after only having flown forgiving low-powered biplanes, and having to fold his 6'6" self into the thing and fly hours to his new squadron. 

In the past I'd read a book like this all in one sitting but computers make people stupid and so I have to force myself to read a book and not too much all at once. 

And yet, once I'm back in Hawaii, Oh the books I plan to collect! All of Dahl's non-fiction and the short stories he wrote for magazines that were for adults and from what little I've found, real zingers. All of James Lovelock's books and anything/everything on what might be called the "Club Of Rome Reading List" like Limits To Growth and any updates. All the "early" stuff about Hawaii by Twain and London and Isabella-what's-her-name. That one book by "Hawaii's Queen" etc. I plan to have quite a bookshelf. 

Since I don't plan to be on Ebay (it's far harder to earn $3 there than by busking) I should end up spending a lot less time at a computer. 

I did a haircut because it was about a "push" whether to wash my un-cut hair then wait for it to dry, or just cut it and then cleanup is easy even with a shave and shaving my neck. Then I took off at something after 6, maybe 6:20 or so. 

I dropped off trash at the same trash can by the bus stop but this time the zombie of the day was hunched over on the corner, and didn't even rouse when I made a loud clanking sound. 

From there I rode over to Whole Foods, passing through San Pedro Square which seemed decent, people walking around and busk-able. But I wanted to spend some of the money from last night so the idea was to go to Whole Foods first. 

I got there and there was no one there, not the skinny guy, no one. It was a lot quieter than I thought it would be, but there *were* a steady stream of people going in and out. And it's the most quiet, peaceful, busking location by far. So after buying just under $40 worth of stuff, I started playing at 7:20. 

It went pretty well. I got compliments on my playing, one guy hung around after tipping me for "more of" Danny Boy, and the actual percentage of people tipping was really good. At one point a guy came up and said he didn't have any money on me but did I want something from inside? I said I'd just done my shopping and there wasn't a thing I could think of (there really wasn't). 

What he really wanted to know was why I was out there, and I explained that it was for practice, to try to improve as a musician, and because I'm retiring in less than a year and will have about $1000 a month to live on, so busking is my plan for a side job. He understood "side job" quite well and we laughed about how everyone has one these days. I also raved about Whole Foods, how it's my "headquarters" when I ride my bike (pointing to bike) downtown, there are bathrooms, hot food, groceries, etc. And I gushed about the non-alcoholic beers they have as I got the impression the guy was Middle-Eastern and therefore probably Muslim and thus a non-drinker. After a short while he came back out from his shopping and gave me an Apple gift card. 

A bit further on, a bummy looking guy with a skateboard kept walking back and forth, really looking like he was contemplating what chances he had if he grabbed my tip box and ran. I got tired of it quick and made like I was packing up for the night, putting the money into a wad to put into my pocket without counting it or orienting the bills, just making it pocket-able. The Apple gift card went in too and the guy took off, not to be seen again. 

That over with, I played the last 20 minutes or so and made another $20 or so, and at 8:20 played my "Goodnight!" song and that was that. One hour. 

There was still not anything I could think of to buy so I just packed up and rode for home. I rode through San Pedro Square which looked fine for busking, and don't get why there aren't buskers there now. It's tons nicer since they made it pedestrian-only. 

The ride home was really quiet, and I got back in here and counted up. $90. Plus the Apple gift card which I have no idea what's on it. I could use a new mouse pad, though, and I'll be surprised if they don't have those in an Apple store. 

What's kind of interesting tonight is except for the scumbag with the skateboard, I didn't have to dodge zombies really at all. There were more than usual lined up along one building near St. James Park but that's one big sleepy stinky junky sleepover on all nights. I'm wondering if more people handed out money and booze and stuff to the bums and that's settled them down. 

 

 

The spirit of Jimmy Doolittle lives

 I was up late last night, got some practice in, and watched it rain all night. 

I woke up, finally, at about 2:30 and on the radio they're saying Ukraine bombed parts of Western Russia, hitting munitions plants and such sites. I know from Reddit they hit an electronics manufacturing plant. This is just after Russia launched the biggest attack of drones and missiles of the war. 

I see this as Ukraine's Jimmy Doolittle raid (although arguably that might be the sinking of that ship, that Ukraine celebrated by issuing a postage stamp with a soldier on land flipping the bird to the ship). It's great news in any case. And Russia's got Poland on edge because they flew one of their missiles over Polish airspace and the only reason Poland didn't shoot it down was they were not able to get "a solution" to shoot it down before it left their airspace. They'll be ready for the next one. 

Europe is waking up to the fact that Putin intends to invade all of Europe if he can. And the US can't be depended on to keep helping, not if Diaper Don gets back into office either by election or by coup. Europe and the UK, united, can put up a pretty good fight. 

About the practice; I have to say my new idea of the "Song Method" is working out well. Grinding away at little exercises was boring as hell and I believe was tightening me up. I was not getting anywhere. The shakuhachi playing strengthened my breathing and I now realize how important that is. I have this little version of "Red River Valley" that's a good exercise for high notes, and this other thing I don't know the name of but that I'm pretty sure Harry James made popular, that goes even a bit higher. I also worked out the melody line to "Linus And Lucy" and a higher version of "What A Wonderful World" because the one I've been playing for years is too low, frankly. 

I finally left here at 5:45. I dropped off a bag of trash in the usual trash can I use, which is next to a bus stop. There was a zombie at the bus stop, and the noise of my putting the trash in the can etc. got its attention. It asked in standard nondistinct underclass dialect if I knew when the bus was coming. I said I didn't know. It seemed expected that I ought to know, since I'm "using" the stop, and I said I don't catch the bus here, sorry. The zombie concluded with a "Fuck you" and I replied with "Have a nice evening - zombie." as I rode off. 

I went to Nijiya for a can of coffee and to use the loo, and then all ready for my night, headed over to San Pedro Square. I started playing at 6:18 and played until 7:00, making $10. Kind of "meh". I decided to go over to Whole Foods. 

So I rode over there and played for probably a good 45 minutes. The trouble was, the skinny guy with all the petitions and signs and who hassles people was there, yelling out to everyone trying to get them to sign his stupid petitions and primarily, I think, to beg money from them and see if they can be conned into one his scammy woo-woo free energy etc. scams.

So he yelled and I played and eventually a nice Chinese guy had one of his kids put a dollar in. A guy stopped, in his car, in the driveway and was looking to buy a saxophone, it turned out, to just hang on the wall. So after gushing about West Valley Music, I said just look on Craig's List. Nice guy though, who'd just moved out here for a "finance" job. 

I played some more and decided I'd done enough, and decided I'd mess with the skinny guy a bit. I went up to his table and said he should be careful talking about that zero-point energy because I had a circle of friends who were all into that (true) and they'd all disappeared (also true) and I can't find them at all (not that I've looked) and made it sound all ominous and that was enough, he was off and running. 

He said the free-energy people get killed but never fear, there will be plentiful energy for everyone (here I interjected that one can just Google search "Siemens neighborhood reactors") and the only hitch is if "the globalists" can prevent this. 

It gets more interesting: An ambulance had parked along the curb and the EMTs got out. One of 'em saw his pro-"Palestinian" sign and said something like "Israel forever". He looked Jewish. I looked at him and said "Am Israel Chai" (which is something like "may Israel live forever" and the guy nodded and was off. 

Skinny wanted to know what that was all about so I lied about it being some Arabic slang I'd thrown at him, not at all encouraging to Israel etc. And then went on about how I tend to end up with a surplus of marking pens and will save some aside for him ... etc. Idiot. 

I went in for my cucumber and met the EMT at the checkout and said to him that he should watch out for the skinny guy, who's a neo-Nazi etc. He said no worries, and the most important thing is "Israel forever" to which I agreed. 

So I'd made $12 so far and while I didn't need the money (and have two more "weekend" days to busk) I'm stubborn so I rode over to Christmas In The Park. And by riding on San Pedro to Park Avenue I got to see the new sidewalks etc that had been under construction - they're really nice! - and made it to the spot I'd played by the science museum with ease. 

So I set up and played (my lip was pretty tired by now) and made $35 in about as many minutes. That was more like it. So I'd made $47 this busking session. 

All I'd spent was a bit less than $5 for the fancy cucumber and the can of coffee, too. When I drank, there was always alcohol to buy. But since I don't drink, and don't smoke or get around using a motor vehicle, there wasn't much of anything to spend the money on. Tobacco, alcohol, and gasoline are the three huge money-sinks for almost all working-class Americans. And imagine having a "need" for weed or meth or crack or fenty or what-have-you. This is how you live as a "hungry ghost" and then become a decrepit zombie polluting a bus stop... 

I swung by Cafe Stritch to see what was up, and what was up was an open mic and I was talking with a group of people outside at a table, really just this one gal in the group, when some goon who works for "Mama Kin" which is what they're called now, came up and asked if I was going in, and I said Sorry I'll move this, and got my bike out of there and rode off. Imagine the shock to the goon if he knew I was an actual street musician and not some suburban IT professional, a nice safe "beige" person who only practices music in their garage or something, and to whom going to an open mic is a huge adventure. They want the nice bland people who make San Jose what it is, who will pay (cover charge, overpriced drinks and food) to play and as for actual musicians, even in their Stritch days as far as I know they never paid 'em. 

So I skedaddled and rode home. The usual zombie-dodging and pretty soon I was safely back here. I'd been out until almost 10, which is like being out until 1AM in the before times. 

Rainy Friday

 I got back in last night, and used up all of the night I care to - most of it - prepping 25 things to list. I went to bed, tired, and woke up at 2 in the afternoon. 

I figured since it was still dry outside, if I packed things quickly I might be able to do a post office run before the rain comes in. I was too late. By the time the things were packed the rain started and it just kept raining harder and harder. So the things will just have to go out on Tuesday, except I might be able to mail some FedEx things over the weekend if it's dry enough to go there. 

I got a small bonus this year

 Ken came by last night an hour earlier than what used to be his usual time. I had the place all cleaned, finished the load of laundry I'd had soaking for far too long, and was all squared away when he came by. I even found time to re-organize some capacitors. 

My back hurt like hell though. It was really bad. 

Ken was to write a check for two weeks, $800, but he actually wrote me one for $850. I kind of thought he might round it up to $1000 but for some reason that's a scary number - too big perhaps - but $950 is OK. I don't blame him, there's no real money in high tech and this place is only just barely sustaining itself. It just makes me laugh a bit, like the time I sold some equipment to guy and my offer was $5k and he went into this half-hour long rambling thing concluding that he can pay me $4700 which was fine with me. He could have just said, 'How 'bout $4700?" and saved a half hour. Pretty funny really. 

Then we settled in to talk about things, as usual. It was obvious my back was very painful and Ken said maybe he should go early, and I said "No, don't worry about it, you're not inconveniencing me" but  I did say I'd go to bed and get my back some rest as I'd barely slept Xmas night, and stayed up all of the night afterward. 

One thing that's scary is, I find Ken parroting back to me, things and opinions I've said in the past. This means if he's parroting me, he's really being imprinted by the right-wing radio he listens to every hour he can. He can't listen to that shit at home but it's on whenever he's in his truck alone. I reiterated how, at least being back in Hawaii, I'll be halfway across the Pacific and from there might be able to escape to Japan or Vietnam or even someplace like French Polynesia or New Zealand if the US goes full-on fascist. I totted up the groups that will end up in the death camps, not Jews because Jews have got Israel and the Mossad now. But known leftists, critics of Trump and his cronies, political opponants, LGBT people, and so on, will easily make up the few per cent of the population that in Germany, was known opponants, leftists, etc and Jews, for the rest of the population to blame their problems on. We in the US have a lot of jails and prisons, and WWII type camps are not hard to build. 

After Ken was gone I watched some YouTube, practiced a bit - not easy when one's back hurts like hell - and went to bed. 

I got up at 1:30 in the afternoon. My back hurts ... less anyway. 

I had coffee and nuts and packed 6 things, and went downtown, starting with Nijiya to buy a can of coffee ($2.25 instead of $4+ at Whole Foods) and then the post office to drop off the smaller packages. Zombies were out all over the friggin' place due to the warm weather making them more active, do I had to do a certain amount of zombie-dodging. 

Leroy had been playing in Japantown by the "Spike" and we'd talked a bit. Wendall's in town but keeping himself out of view, apparently. I told Leroy that Wendall typically goes up to the City a week before Christmas so maybe he's playing up there. Leroy said he lives in this area now so that's good because when I'm gone that will leave the town with one busker, Leroy, and there's certainly room for two. "Keep on keepin' the music alive!" Leroy called to me as I left. "I'll try!" I called back.

I deposited my check at the bank (only a few dollars off) and then rode over to the FedEx on the Alameda to drop off the one FedEx package. Then went to Whole Foods. There are a lot of people out and around, San Pedro Square, which I'd gone through on the way, looked quite good and no buskers. Whole Foods had no one, not buskers or beggars or scammers or anything and it looked like a good day for playing. 

I got some beef and Brussels sprouts and ate, washed it down with some of the coffee, and ended up talking quite a bit with a guy about bikes - he had a classic 1980s Univega. 

I took off for Walmart and did the usual routine: 15 minutes to pick out my groceries and things, and 20 minutes in line. 

I also got a package of 3 flashlights for $10, and a Ruger pepper spray for $15, in Big-5. So I was really "spendy" today. Tomorrow's to be a rain day too so no going out. Then I plan to busk Saturday and Sunday. This means, out of this paycheck, all but a little over $100 will stay in the bank. 

I still had plenty of time to go to Nijiya again, which I did. So I'm stocked up on things like eggs and Lipovitan. 

It was really warm out there, damp, but warm. No hat or gloves needed. And the people out and around, made me almost want to hurry back, get my trumpet and stuff, and to a session at San Pedro Square or Whole Foods. But I'm glad I got my shopping done instead, and Saturday and Sunday are supposed to be somewhat dry. 

 

Wet Wednesday

 On Tuesday, not only did I pack 12 things in a bit of a rush, prioritizing things to go to FedEx that would need the bike trailer, but I did more. 

On my way back from this first trip I dropped by Tom's because I had to go that way anyway to look for "Imperfect Produce" boxes which a place just down from him often leaves out on Tuesdays. Tom had James, his expensive pet, over who was talking and stinking up the place and trying to get this weird street rod thing he'd sold to Tom, running. I asked Tom if he was up for going anywhere for dinner but he was not so in the end I rode home (no boxes out at the place, either) and made a shrimp curry. 

I stayed up all night packing a bunch of small things with the idea that it'd be wet but small things can be enclosed in plastic bags and kept dry, and I'd just ride out, or even walk out and back since I get less mucked up that way, taking the small things to the downtown post office. 

But as I packed, and the night went by, and I kept checking the weather, it looks like I could take a big load with the bike trailer if I just stayed up and went to the post office when it opens at 8:30 and I'd hit FedEx and H Mart on the way back. 

So that's what I did. I packed 21 or 22 things including one big thing so in addition to the 12 I'd done, it came out to 32 or 33 things. I took off at a bit after 8AM, rode up Rogers as the bums would be mostly asleep at that hour, and stopped at the lunch truck that sets up across from Tom's and got a little muffin sandwich with egg and sausage and stuff in it. 

I settled in, in front of Tom's and ate the fillings and tossed the bread to the gulls. Somehow this didn't wake up Tom. 

I rode on up to the post office, and it was really nice. Light traffic, and the sky was doing neat pre-storm things. The post office had hardly anyone there. 

On the way back I ducked into H Mart for garlic, a cucumber, and a package of Hello Kitty butt wipes, the only kind they have right now and I got the 2nd to the last one. I dropped the box off at FedEx and rode out as I always do, the back way, passing by the dumpster where I'd lost my Fry's flash light, hoping some dumpster-diver found it and is making use of it. 

I rode back the way I came and the lunch truck was still there. I was up for a second muffin sandwich, but a guy got it right ahead of me so I got some chicken wings. I went back to Tom's to eat them and Tom got up and we hung out for a bit. He'd just woken up. "I thought you were Mr. Early Morning" I said. 

We hung out and talked a bit and I told him that the problem with the street rod might be gunk in the carburetor jets, that it's a really common problem, that and bad old gas in the float bowls, and how easy to work on those classic Japanese (it's a 4-cylinder Kawasaki engine) motorcycle engines are to work on, particularly the carbs. How I'd re-jetted a bike I had years ago by, being too cheap to buy a DynoJet kit, just drilling the jets out with teeny drill bits going up carefully in size until my test rides around the neighborhood told me it was running right. 

Done hanging out at Tom's, I rode back and because it was so odd and special to be out at this hour, stopped at the lunch truck out on Old Bayshore and got yet another sandwich, and took it back here to eat it and put the carby parts out for the gulls. And went to sleep! 

I woke up around 5. Perfect, actually. The rain started right on cue. The one time it won't be *so* wet is Thursday, tomorrow, so that makes my week interesting. 

Also notice that trumpet practice didn't happen this last 24 hours. I did, however, watch a video on pedal tones which were hard for me before if I could get one at all but now are easy-peasy. Trumpet instructors are always talking about them, which still mystifies me as they're really not used in actual music. At most they're good for goofing on people, like making a tuba sound out of a teeny cornet. 

As it's getting closer to my leaving by a day, every day, I'm thinking more and more about how it'll be when I'm back. One thing that keeps coming to me as a parallel is Episode 41 of the British situation comedy "Are You Being Served?". In this one, a new salesman comes to work at the department store, a Mr. Goldberg. It turns out he knew Captain Peacock, an older salesman who's very full of himself, back in "the old days" when they were in the Army together. He knew Peacock to be a very ordinary, somewhat cowardly, not-at-all stellar troop, and overall Goldberg seems to be very adaptable, able to handle himself well in a proper middle-class department store like Grace Brothers and as well in the Army, on the docks, wherever he is. He gets along well with everyone except of course Captain Peacock, who doesn't appreciate having someone around who sees right through him. 

I liked that episode when I first saw it and love it now. I very much see myself as a Mr. Goldberg these days. There are so, so many things I can do back in Hawaii, and even if I end up street homeless for a bit it doesn't scare me a bit. My older sister, whom I will call Hyacinth as she's a character right out of *another* British sitcom, plays the part of Captain Peacock of course. And like the relation of Goldberg and Peacock, I come not to knock anyone off their pedestal but to say, "Hey now, just relax. Come on down off of there if you like, life's a lot more fun than you've been thinking it is". 

When I was back there in 2003, one thing that surprised me was the level of fear my older sister, whom I adore let there be no two ways about it, lived in. She was scared of her neighbor. When I took her to a place that I'd found served a good mahi-mahi sandwich, she was terrified. She'd gone on a whole unfortunate adventure involving an expensive motor scooter and a badly banged-up knee simply because some nut on the bus had taken a fancy to her and kept appearing when she tried getting around by bus. 

(I'd heard about this last thing in the aftermath and all I could advise was taking cabs and then after 6 months or a year adding up the costs and seeing if it's cheaper than owning a 3rd car, and if not then just getting a 3rd car. But it gives an idea of the Boomer fear of mingling with the hoi polloi if they can avoid it.)

I'd interpreted her fear to mean that Hawaii more dangerous than the mainland but of course it's not. It's just the Boomer fear of, well, everything. I might have come in at the tail-end of Boomer but she, born right in the fat part of the 1950s, is as Boomer as they come. She's done it all - the rollerskating and for a while she had a baton she twirled all over the place and the cat-eye glasses. And the National Spelling Bee which to the true Boomer mind is supposed to set you up for life or something and maybe back then it did. Her idea of being poor was only having a small car where I didn't have a car at all until I was 30. (And I might not have had one until I was 40, except for a small inheritance that I used to pay off the 2nd half of my student loans and buy my first, very used, car.)

There are whole areas of the island of Oahu she won't go because of "bad memories" where I plan to go right to the areas where the bad memories are, because there are good memories there too. 

The day after

 I listed the 25 things last night (they were easy and pretty similar so they were easy to bang out) and actually practiced a bit. I do *not* intend to get a book and grind through exercises and instead worked on "fun things that should help my playing" like the half-step bends, bugle calls which are great lip-slur exercises, and some songs. 

I went to bed but had real trouble getting any sleep. I knew the drip coffee at the casino seems to have a ton of caffeine in it, but I guess this applies to their lattes too. At places like that, things like espressos and lattes will be prepared using a machine that's pretty automatic and everything pre-packaged, so just about any idiot can make them without screwing them up, but that double latte must have had a ton of caffeine too. I guess it makes sense for a casino, where they want people wide awake and keen to gamble more. 

So I had some neat dreams but not much in the way of actual sleep. I got up at 1. 

"THE" day

 Here it is "the" day. I sorted out 25 little packages of capacitors last night while watching YouTube. I actually found a documentary about that trumpet player dude who did the voices for some of the Schoolhouse Rock episodes which is the only reason anyone my age or younger would know him at all and even then, not by name but as "the dude who did 'Conjunction Junction'". The guy was a hell of a trumpet player and was best buds with Chet Baker before he got old and very rotund, but the docu was mostly all these other "big names" in Hollywood like Clint Eastwood and Billy Crystal talking about how great he was - all white guys too. 

I read the first chapter of "Going Solo" by Roald Dahl, about his sharing a cabin on a ship to Africa with one U. N. Savory which he swore was the guy's actual name. 

I woke up, finally, around noon and read a few more chapters. It's no wonder the guy came up with so many good works of fiction, with the life he had. 

I left around 4, and dropped off some books and stuff at the Japantown little free library, then spent about $20 in $1's in Nijiya on various things. 

It was dead-dead-dead out there and I mentioned it to the guys. "I wish it was like that in here" one observed. No curiosity about the instrument case on my back. There's only so much chit-chat you can make, though. 

I rode to Christmas In The Park. I'd been mulling over all kinds of plans, perhaps going to Mountain View, then stopping off in Sunnyvale on the way back, or riding down to Willow Glen and trying those waters. But I remembered Pee-Pee Lady telling me "By the Ferris wheel!!" as the place to go, so I set up in front of the museum there, right across from it, and played. 

I made about $15 in about as many minutes, but wow it was loud. There was canned music coming from everywhere, plus the rides make a lot of mechanical noise on their own. I felt like I had to play too loud, and that it was not worth it. 

Besides, I was feeling weird and faint. I was like this all through tonight's session, like my blood pressure was low and I was having things happen like if I crouched down to do something then stood up, I felt faint. This is indeed a sign of low or lower-than-one-is-used-to blood pressure, which I'd take as a good sign even if I worried about myself a bit. 

I'd play by Johnny Rockets, I decided, but one of the vendors there had very loud music. So I moved further in, across from where the gym used to be, a door or so down from where the theater used to be. You can't miss it, really, it's right around the corner from where the market used to be and down from where the skateboard shop used to be. Where Johnny Rockets used to be is on the other end of that walkway. That's how San Jose is now; everything's where this or that used to be. 

Anyway I set up and played, and although there were far fewer people, a much greater percentage of them tipped. I kept feeling faint and my lip got worn out right on time, in the same time Pearle Vision used to promise they could crap out a cheap pair of glasses for you, "in about an hour". I made $28.

I did a few minutes more and one more tip to make sure it was an hour, and packed up. I'd made $28. With the faintness, I wasn't hungry and wasn't keen to go to this or that restaurant, so rode for home. Partway there, I decided I'd go to the casino. 

So I got back here and put things away and headed over to Casino M8trix. I was hoping they'd have some kind of Christmas special, maybe have prime rib but that's Sundays and Thursdays only, sorry,  I was told. It was very busy and the restaurant was packed. So the "Lotus Cafe" it was. Not only was M8trix one of the few places open, but they had the football game on too. 

I ordered my food - Mongolian Beef - and got one of those little stand-up things with a 4 on it. I went to sit down at just about the only place I could, at the sushi bar. The couple next to me were surprised that I had number 4 as that was "their number" and they'd been waiting "forever" for potstickers. So they, and I, went to the counter to tell them about it, with the result that they got their potstickers pretty quickly, as I did my Mongolian Beef. 

I chowed down and then went back to the counter and got a double latte. With the food and coffee and my tipping generously, I spent $29, which was just right. I sipped my latte and watched the home team get beat by the Baltimore Ravens haha. 

Then I just saddled up and rode home. So that was my Christmas.  If one is a busker, I can't imagine being in any kind of a place suitable for busking at all, and not going out busking for Christmas. Even if you don't on "the" day because of family obligations or you just don't feel like it, at least *around* Christmas. Just like Jews say "Next year in Jerusalem," I think, "Next year in Waikiki". 

Xmas Eve

 I went to bed at 1AM, and read Charlie And The Chocolate Factory which I'd read long ago so it was a quick read but still was an hour. Its author, Roald Dahl, grew up middle-class (back when middle-class was really something; we'd call it upper-middle-class now) and grew up to be something like 6'4" so he never got near the nutritional stunting I experienced growing up (and that I've seen in people who grew up in the 30s/40s) but the English public schools he went to certainly didn't overfeed their pupils, plus in the war he'd have been around people who certainly did come from real hunger, so I believe he understood hunger. All the parts in the book about the candies and especially Charlie finding the $1 bill in the street and getting a chocolate bar right away, felt like I'd just read it the day before but actually the memory is stronger than that, because I read it as a very hungry kid. It's a very good book and now I can return it to one of the Little Free Libraries. 

I left here a bit after 3 I think, dropped off a bag of trash at my usual nondescript trash can, then went to Nijiya for a couple of things, then followed the route I'd worked out for myself to go to Ryland Park. There was a crazy guy doing something with one shoe off, ranting to himself and jigging around. Whatever, dude. I rode past him to the back part where the exercise equipment is and found that both sets have chin-up bars that are way too high up for me. The one in St. James Park is just right, and the ones at the Civic Center and my other place at least have these step things to get up there. Oh, well. It's a nice park anyway. 

Riding around, things were so dead I could only compare it to when everything shut down for covid at first when people were really serious about it. Almost no one was out and around. 

I rode over to Christmas In The Park which had tons of people, though, and stopped by the caricature stand. They said it's been a bit slow, but OK. The actual company name is Damon Arts, but the guy I was talking to said (pointing) "That's Damon, I'm (something like) rizzle-tizzle-tazzle-fo'shizzle-no.1@gmail.... " I just looked online now and Damon Arts is a very serious company and Damon has certainly paid his dues. 

From there I rode over to San Pedro Square and again, it was like the neutron bomb had gone off. No biggie, though, as I intended to play at Whole Foods as they're closed tomorrow. Today's my chance to at least play there close to Christmas Day. 

I parked the bike at WF and it looked moderately busy.  There was a guy with a "Save The Children" booth, a pudgy guy who looked like Charlie Brown would all grown up, and fat all over not just his head. I went in to use the loo and came back out and talked in a friendly way with the guy while I set up. It didn't bode well, having the stand there because generally it means tips will be way down for both of us. To start I asked how late he planned to be there and he said until 9, and I said that's dedication, as Whole Foods will close at 7. 

He said he didn't know that, and "7 then." but now I knew he was there for the long haul and it would be "just the two of us" (it could be a lot worse!) and set up to play. Warmed up with some scales, and started in, and between tunes talked with the guy about inconsequential things. 

It went OK, I played a lot of Xmas songs and I guess charmed some people because tips *did* come in. There was a bum set up with a sign in the actual parking lot, at the front of the center "island" with a sign. At one point this Orwellian loudspeaker  voice came on, and the guy left. So someone complained or an employee saw him or something. And if the guy had just set up where I did, on the public sidewalk, he'd have been fine. 

It  was very cold, and I'm certain some of my tips came from people due to their liking the *idea* of a trumpeter playing Christmas carols on Christmas Eve, but a lot of people were pretty happy with me. 

I toughed it out for an hour and a half, but frankly after an hour I started sounding like a duck. When I was finally done, half-frozen and had fumbled through my "Goodnight!" song, I told Fatso at his booth that "I sound like a duck, and no one wants to hear a duck." In other words, it's all his for the last hour and let him make up for the tips he lost out on, being next to me. 

I went inside, just happy to be somewhere warm, and got myself some very greasy, really swimming in fat, chicken at the hot bar and a near-beer. That was $11 of the money I'd earned yesterday. That's my rule, to not spend the money I make until the next day so I can make sure of an accurate count when I get home. 

I ate and drank upstairs where there are heaters. There were only 5 or 6 people up there besides staff and myself. After eating I rode home, by way of San Pedro Square to see how it was and it was still super dead. And there was hardly any traffic on my way home too. 

Once home, I counted up and it was $85. No more than $10 of that was made in the last half-hour so $75/hour is pretty good. 

There were a lot of the usual homeless out there and for them it's just another day. Without busking it would be pretty much another day for me, too. A bother, because the post office and most things are closed, and maybe, as many feel it to be, depressing. But because of busking, it's a fun time of year. 

Fifty bucks. And a quarter.

 I'd been up all night listing stuff. I woke up, finally, around 2 in the afternoon because I told myself I didn't have to really be anywhere until much later than that. 

I finally got going at almost 5, and stopped at Nijiya for a can of coffee and to check their "holiday" hours. It comes down to, there, on a holiday, they close an hour early. 6PM instead of 7PM. 

I stashed the can of coffee and rode over to 1st street and down to Ryland Park which the bum at St. James Park had told me has tons of exercise equipment. I rode around and indeed it does. From First Street all one sees is a big rack full of rental bikes and, at least in the past, a few bums loitering around. It's not evident that the park is long and also widens out as you go back. There were no bums, there's actually a big swimming pool, and two sets of exercise equipment with chinning bars, dip bars, etc. 

Then I rode over to San Pedro Square and there were no buskers there at all. Time to put in a half-hour, I thought, before Loud Band or another busker who needs the money more - like Leroy - shows up. 

I set up by the Old Spaghetti and started playing. It actually went pretty well. Well enough that when I'd played from 5:30 to 6:00, I decided to stay around until 6:30, making it a full hour and making it OK with me if Whole Foods is crowded with beggars, hucksters, and all-around psychos. 

There were lots of people with little kids, and I might have done really well to arrive an hour earlier, note to self for next Xmas season here which won't exist for me because I'll be gone. Lots of little kids given a buck to put in the box, and one guy put in a $20 "For beer!" and I joked around about "Barley therapy" which got a good laugh. 

At the end of my hour I'd done enough, played the "Goodnight!" song which I was able to pull off with some extra snap, and packed up. I counted up and I'd made $50. And a quarter. Not bad for an hour. 

I rode over to Whole Foods and locked the bike and had a nice talk with one of the "Save The Children" guys who were still set up with their little booth although it was late (6:45 is late in this town) and cold. "You're read die-hards!" I'd started the conversation with. We talked about bikes and transit and how great they are, then I said I'd better let them get back to their fund-raising and went in. 

I got a nice dish of mushroom and beef meatloaf which I thought might be too much but I chowed it down just fine. This cold weather makes me crave heavy food. When I was done I got the coffee I had stashed away out, and went upstairs to drink it in the warmth from the heaters and watch a bit of the basketball game they had on the TV. I possibly could have played some more there at Whole Foods but I really didn't feel like it. 

I bought some olive tampenade and taurine and thereby used up the ton of $1's I had, and rode home. I rode through San Pedro Square and there were still lots of people walking around, but no buskers. I rode along 1st street to figure out which cross street is closest to this new gem of a park and it's Hensley so from J-town I can take 4th to Hensley and down 1st a bit to the park. 

I wonder how this park isn't a huge bum encampment. Since there are residential buildings all around, I'm thinking there's a sort of system, formal or not, where the cops are called - or maybe there's even security around there - if any bums loiter around. Maybe that's why that one bum told me about it. He may have been chased out of there, and thought that I belonged there and not his "his" park, St. James, a running joke that's often referred to on Reddit as "needle park". 

On my playing tonight: It's going to take time to build up to putting in an honest two hours. The urge to use too much mouthpiece pressure must be some sort of an instinct. Adam Rapa talks about actually building up the muscles *in* the lips, so that these muscles can be flexed and can protect the lips against the mouthpiece pressure, while one must also try not to use so damn much pressure anyway. He actually talks, and said another noted instructor talks, about an "embouchure tunnel" which is a new concept to me in trumpet but it looks like something to pursue. I want a good tone, and easy high notes. I also am trying to work on my posture, and am glad I found that park with all the exercise stuff because I want to really train my midsection for good support - it's no wonder Miles Davis trained in boxing. 

The pieces are easier to figure out these days and I can only blame it on sobriety being better the longer it's maintained. All well and fine to be sober for 6 months, or a year, but the longer it's kept up the sharper the mind can be, and thus the songs easier to just play. 

I guess these days I'm "edge" (for straightedge, don't take anything although I still want to get my hands on some tianeptine which is a legit drug if taken within the dosage it's used in Europe, where it's regularly prescribed and does a lot of good. It's supposed to be the bees' knees for anxiety.)

Would I do as well, money-wise, with a guitar? Maybe, if I had a really good voice. But I'd have to have a really good voice plus I'd have to know all the words which is not only a pain but a lot of songs have words that are stupid. I'd probably do at least as well and probably better, with a violin due to the rule that parents love to linger around and tip a musician who's playing an instrument they want their kids to play. Most parents would rather have their kids play the violin than a damn trumpet, and forget the guitar. Piano, maybe, if you're gonna drag a Rhodes out there but that takes a van or a station wagon, amp, etc. Trumpet seems to be to be the best combination of simple, easy to transport, weather-proof, loud, gets credit for being both hard to play and respectable, and it can sound pretty good too. 

It's all in the prep

 I was up most of the night, counted out 23 little bags of capacitors and have two other little things to make 25. It's like painting where there's a lot of time put into sanding and prepping, then Zoom! Zoom! The actual painting goes quickly. 

I practiced ... I can do the high notes it's just controlling them. Obviously I didn't go to shakuhachi club last night but I'm not sure the club even met, as there's generally an email a few days before saying it's coming up, and I didn't get one. I wrote a nice email to Rinban saying that I've learned a lot in the class and it's improved my trumpet playing but I'm going back to trumpet. 

Not only is that loud Polish guy with his tenor sax perfectly OK in Waikiki which means a more "local" person playing trumpet and not being as loud is probably OK too, but I had a vision of the future that I now think is not applicable. 

The minimalist in me liked the idea of going to an instrument with no moving parts at all, and that literally grows out of the ground. But in reality, during the time I'll still be alive, there will be plenty of trumpets even though they're a factory-made item and there will be far more trumpets than capable players of them. Even if, or as, things get worse than they were in the 1970s, people will make sure a capable trumpet player has a trumpet, in the same way that art materials tended to get filtered my way. 

I had one thing I wanted to ship out (it was actually overdue since I didn't pack it last night) and it required/the customer wanted a double box and I was able to do it using two boxes I'd recently picked up that were "eh" quality, but between the two of them and the padding, the thing should be fine. 

I took that up to FedEx, found some neat packing stuff on the way back and dropped that load off here, then took off again. I went to my chin-up place near 99 Ranch and did, well, chin-ups, and noticed they were throwing out tons of techie stuff by their loading dock. Like tons of chips, things like 100 or so antennas for WiFi stuff, etc. But you know what? I don't give a shit any more. If I were on my own, those antennas are $100 right there and who knows how much the chips and other things are worth, but there's enough crap to sell off around here over the next 10 months. I took a bag of smallish conductive zipper bags I can use, and that's it. 

I went to 99 Ranch and got some things including "Penang White Curry" ramen with which I did the usual: Set at one of the tables by the tea place and took the seasoning packets out and put them in a little bag, and left the noodle packages by the trash can for some bum or another to pick up. 

Then I rode over to H Mart, locked the bike, and walked over to Sprouts to get my macadamia nuts and a hothouse cucumber. Then walked back over to H Mart and got a can of my beloved chicory coffee and, having counted my change and wanting to use it up, got a couple of hot things that my understanding are 1/2 price after 7. I turned out to be wrong, though, as they were buy one, get one of equal or lesser value. So I was about a dollar short and just used my card. 

I rode home happy because now I've got shopping done I don't have to do tomorrow, and don't have to worry about it. 

 

 

Getting the lips back in shape

 I packed a few things that needed to be packed before they'd be "overdue" and such things, and practiced last night. It's interesting. The "air" is there, more so than before. The ability to relax, so necessary in shakuhachi playing, is there where it wasn't before. The actual lip itself isn't ready for consistent high notes but once that's in shape, things ought to really look up. 

My busking plan is Friday-Saturday-Sunday-Monday, Monday being Christmas day of course. 

Pop Corny Day

 I got everything I needed to put away in the warehouse area, put away last night. It was a lot of stuff and some of it required some re-arranging. Plus I packed 15 things that are small and don't require the bike trailer. 

I went to sleep far too late, maybe 5AM, and woke up at noon. After coffee and nuts and some exercises and general noodling around, I took off at about a quarter to 2, walking. 

I still haven't cleaned up the bike from Monday nights riding in the rain, and I'm out of clean pants to change into so while I might not stay any dryer, at least I'd get less gunked up, walking. I had two big Ross bags full of my packages. And I had enough on my clipper card for 1 ride, no more. 

I walked out to the light rail, rode down to St. James Park, took my packages over to the post office and mailed them, and walked back just in time to hop on another train to Diridon Station. I'd not walked through the main part of the station in a long time so I went in there and got a little bag of popcorn which I ate on my walk over to TAP Plastics. 

I bought some little zipper bags and was glad no one remembered my crack about how I dislike Christian radio; how I'd been tuning around and found a station that was pretty nice, kind of grunge rock, then realized it was Christian rock and could not turn the dial fast enough. 

I walked over to Whole Foods and put $20 on my clipper card so that was that problem solved. Then I got some food and a fizzy water and ate and had some of the fizzy water, was able to wash my mouth out mainly, and got to the bus stop across the street just in time for a #22 bus. I rode that to Santa Clara and walked over to the Amazon place and got a bunch of bubble mailers. 

Then I decided to walk around Christmas In The Park and maybe visit the caricature guys. Their booth was closed so it was too early. Leroy had told me Wendall from New Orleans was in town but I didn't see him. I got free samples of kettle corn from two different stands, and bought a little bag of regular popcorn (for $5) from the 2nd stand, and had fun putting all my change into the coin funnel thing because it's fun. One of my dimes went across and stuck flat and when a little girl said, "Hey! A coin!" I said it was mine and she could put it in, showing how to get a coin rolling. 

I walked back to the light rail and rode home, walking in from Karina Station. It really didn't do more than rain lightly all day.  I sprinkled out the last of my bag of popcorn for the birds. It was the pop-corniest day of my life, at least so far. 

I've also realized, it's only a few days from The Day. I've written down three my carols I'd forgotten about until I heard them on the radio, the most beautiful of them being It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. Geez. At least I'm giving this season my best, and what I learn this year will be stored up and ready to draw on, and add to, next year. 

On Reddit they're talking about the 2024 election possibly being even crazier than that horrible January 6th (which I wrote about something like the next day, likening it to the fiasco of the "Love Ride" I rode my motorcycle in decades ago). I still think it's a solid plan to keep Ken thinking that I'll be here for that Oh-so-important election, but might be invited for a birthday bash so just a quick little trip in mid-September ...  from which I'll decide What the hey, why come back? I can invent Pat and Dave and I partying in a hotel in Waikiki, maybe make it the Hale Koa due to my brother in law's military connections. 

I got a call from Ken at about 8:30. He has to get up really early in the morning to get his other eye's cataract surgery done (they've already done one) and "Do you really need your check tonight?" I said I not only don't need it tonight, but I don't even need it this week and he can just write a check for this week along with next week's. And since that means I won't see him until after Christmas, which is Monday, Merry Christmas. Then we talked a bit about science-y stuff and that's that. My time is my own until the middle of next week. 

OK then

 I was up all night getting a bunch of small things listed on Ebay, and went to sleep w/o practicing. I woke up around noon, and it was actually kind of dry outside, like it hasn't rained for several hours. It would have been a perfect time to grab things I had packed and make a dash to the post office but of course I didn't have anything packed. 

It still looked pretty good, like I might pack things and do that dash on the bike. As soon as I looked out the window and thought seriously about it, it started pouring, heavily. OK then. 

Not enough sense to stay in out of the rain

 I was hoping to meet the mail truck when it came around and hand my USPS packages off to the guy but  I didn't see them. 

So I packed things that really had to go out and thought I had a gap in the rain. I got a bit wet riding to the downtown post office but not too bad. I dropped off the things and headed for home, then remembered I wanted to do some chin-ups so went back to St. James Park where I found the chin-up bars were being used by a short bearded bum, who seemed to be doing some kind of meditation routine and not likely to be done soon. 

It was the equivalent of being in a gym and the machine you want to use is being sat on by someone checking their email or playing Angry Birds or something. So I asked if I could "work in" and was able to, and we talked. He told me Ryland Park which is this little park on First Street has a ton of equipment (my impression was always that it was a sort of home base for a lot of bums so I'd avoided it but then what is Muscle Beach in Los Angeles?) and I told him about an exercise I'd just learned about called the "Russian Twist" which seems to be better than set-ups and doesn't require something to hook your feet onto. 

The old guy was kind of impressive in that he could do overhand chinups maybe not up to chin level but with legs straight out, for two clean reps. He said he used to do sets of 6 but age and weight have cut that way down. I said it may be hard (because he likely lives on whatever is handed out at the "bum feeds" in the park and whatever he can scrounge) but if he can cut out all sugars and starches, the weight will come right off. 

So we exercised and chatted, and it was OK. I got more wet going from there to Nijiya where I got some things, then rode home.  I got really mucked up by the rain and stuff being kicked up by the rain, my bike, and the cars on the road though. I'm out of clean changes of sweat pants so I really don't want to take the bike out into rain like that again - I can actually stay drier and cleaner if I walk and take public transit. 

What I *might* do, is get things packed tomorrow morning and walk out with my USPS packages, get on the light rail and take them to the post office, then go over to Whole Foods and refill my Clipper Card because I've only got something like $4.25 on it. I've got two large Ross bags that are good for keeping things dry.

I'd practiced last night, doing 1/2 step bends downward or at least trying to, like Adam Rapa recommends, and then a memory came to me, of watching some documentary about some young handsome "genius" trumpeter, not sure if it was Nakariakov or some Swedish guy, showing him doing that every exercise and saying something to the effect of, "It sound ugly but makes my playing beautiful". 

I think the flute playing has really helped me, in that now I know that if I can't hit a high note, the thing to do is relax and know I can do it and try again. 

Rainy Sunday

 I went to sleep before 3AM at least, and woke up at 11. I could tell it had rained, and looked at the radar map - big band of rain coming. 

The rain came through and I'm debating with myself whether to go to the store. If I go slow I won't get all splattered, and it being Sunday means traffic will be minimal. I assume I'll be rained in into Wednesday as the rain will only be heavier the next couple of days. 

I ended up going out, to Sprouts for macadamia nuts, a cucumber, and Spry gum, and H Mart for coffee, T.P., some other odds and ends, and as a reward a package of cooked marinated pork strips that were every bit as good as they looked. Yum! 

I stopped by Tom's but he wasn't in. His big truck was there but maybe he's over in Reno picking up his small one. "Small" meaning F-250 size, but small compared to his box truck. 

I also noticed almost all of the RVs along Rogers Avenue have been taken away. Almost none of them could move under their own power so it's not like they all drove off. They were not kidding when they put those orange stickers on them - they all got towed. The ever-troublesome Renee's RV is still there but she doesn't come around here any more - just moves from street to street as she fights with various people and they make her move. 

Today's rain was just a little bit compared to what's coming, according to the news. I have an idea though. I'm going to try to meet the mailman when he comes by tomorrow and hand the USPS packages off to him. He's been using a big truck lately so it should be no problem. 

It was nice out riding around with less traffic, and as the sun set there was a beautiful sky - an "opposite sunset" due to the sun shining on a really tall cloud formation and that reflecting light onto other clouds so that there were patches of pink all over the sky. 

Busking has made this week work out well. I've only spent $100 out of this week's pay check, spent money like I'm mad at it and still have about $29 on hand. I've been aiming for a 50:50 spend:save ratio, saving $200 and spending $200 but with busking I can save $300 out of each check. This is going to be great considering when I move back to Hawaii, life is going to be very expensive, initially. 

 

 

 

Playing in Sunnyvale.

 After playing last night I got home and I just wanted to relax, I guess, and just watched YouTube and do nothing, which I did until some crazy time like 3 or 4 in the morning. 

I woke up around noon, due to a bunch of the guys from next door hanging out in the parking lot talking in Spanish, pretty loudly. I got up and had coffee and nuts, and packed two things that have to go by FedEx. One was pretty small but one was big and took a big box and a lot of padding. 

I took off around 3, maybe 3:30 and took the things to FedEx, and rode right back here. Then I got my trumpet and stuff ready and took off again around 4 or a bit after. 

I rode through Japantown and there was Leroy. I could not tell what he was playing. I stopped and we talked for a while. Just good old shop talk. It turns out he was trying to play that piano piece that's probably the best known of the ones played in Peanuts movies, I think it's called Snoopy's Theme or something. He was trying to do the part under the melody, the obbligato I think it's called. Of course he was playing it a couple of octaves up, didn't have the timing right (it's probably some weird time signature when written down) so it didn't sound like ... anything really. 

When we were done talking I rode away, hearing him mangling another song. I rode down to Walmart and got things there and would have gotten some magnesium supplement but they've got almost everything in locked cases now. 

One thing I did at Walmart that I think was pretty smart, was I noticed some different beef sticks at the checkout and got 4 of them for $7. That's about what I'd spend on meatloaf at Whole Foods, but with the beef sticks I know they're 1 gram of carbs each, and I could eat them on the train or while waiting for the train. 

I rode over to Whole Foods and locked the bike. The skinny white guy with the table is back, apparently. And standing next to him was ... Pee-Pee Lady. She gave me a sort of blank look and I gave her one back, kind of trying to look somewhat friendly but not committed. I don't want to make enemies of either one, but I no longer want to interact in any real way with either of them. 

I walked over to the train station and after some waiting got on a train to Sunnyvale. The actual travel time was only 15 minutes, compared with about an hour on the bus. I spent $10 on train fare instead of $5 on bus fare, and saved a lot of walking too. 

Once I got to Murphy Street, I chewed gum to clean my mouth (I'd eaten up the beef sticks while waiting for the train) and then set up in front of the theater, which appears to be closed. 

It started a bit slow but pretty soon a guy put in a $20 bill and I had a feeling it would be a good session. I played all sorts of things, and at one point a guy came over and handed me $8 with the mien of someone who's bestowing a much larger amount, and such special money, because it came from him, that it should not be mingled with the ordinary, proletarian, bills in my tip box. He also wanted me to try some different songs, so once I'd plopped the money in with the rest and he'd walked off, I played Ave Maria which is kind of Christmas-y, and worked a bit on Mellow Yellow, which ... uh ... has trumpet in it. 

I played a bit more and talked with a couple of guys about how Murphy Street had been my old downtown hangout when I lived nearby, and how I'd moved to Sunnyvale because of the movie WarGames, in which the computer company the kid hacks into is located in ... Sunnyvale. 

Presently I became aware that a couple of guys who were using the fuck word an awful lot, were hanging out nearby and were probably not going anywhere. Eh, time for a change, I figured. I went up to the end of the street nearest the train station and that was kind of Meh, at least this night, at this time. I moved opposite the theater (one of the fuckity guys was still hanging around by the theater) and that was ... OK. I finally figured I could play about 15 minutes more and tried the other end, nearest Target. That went OK too. I got a $5 tip as I packed up when the time was up for me. 

I walked back down Murphy towards the train station and noticed a guy playing guitar outside the little Thai restaurant. He also had drawings of faces laid out on the table and offered me one "They're free" but I said that's OK. But  I said if I have time before the next train to come back and hang out a little,  I will. 

The train came right away though, and I got on at the nearest door and ended up sitting in one of the two seats that are closest to the locomotive. That was noisy, and there were all kinds of mysterious clanks and clunks, rattles and bangs. Still it was nice to be back at Diridon in 15 minutes. 

I got off and some "homie" type Black guy was lost, trying to figure out how to get to "sap center" and I told him to just come with me and I'll get him there. We talked about the need for hobbies, in one's life. I said it's really hard to make friends in San Jose but hobbies, especially ones where people depend on each other, are the way to do it. We got out to The Alameda and I told him to turn right and there will be the "sap center". 

Of course I had to spend about half the money I'd made, $64.02, in Whole Foods. The big expense was a bottle of magnesium supplement. And I had to update Kenny on how I did, plus he wanted to talk about shopping for clothes at the Capitol flea market. I said what made flea market and thrift store shopping interesting to me was when I got into reselling stuff "Because there are only so many clothes you can wear". 

I rode home, watching out for drivers who seemed a bit more erratic tonight. It felt good to get safely back in here. It was a pretty good day. I shipped a couple of things, had a good busking session, got my magnesium supplement and some other things, and now if the next two days are to be rainy, I can deal with that. 

The kids don't play like they used to

 I woke up around 10-11, somewhere in there. The important thing today is, noticing that both halves of the overhead light lit up thus making is a lot less gloomy in here and good for photos, I took the 20 things I'd gotten ready last night and photo'd them right away.  Then coffee etc., then I listed them, and that was all done a bit after 2. 

Then I packed the two things that had to go out today, a small pump and a microscope, and took those up to FedEx. I went around to the chicken place and got two thighs and ate there, enjoying eating tasty chicken with my stomach feeling fine (and no headache too.) 

I found a good stack of shipping stuff, mainly one large box and a lot of big pieces of foam. I was going to stop by Tom's to tell him about the butter incident because it's so damned funny, but James was there so I rode on by. 

I dropped off the stuff and got my trumpet and stuff together, and left here a bit after 6. I stopped in at Nijiya for some of my beloved "Black Black" gum, then rode for downtown. I'd originally planned to go to Sunnyvale but that would have taken an earlier start. So my plan was to take a look at San Pedro Square and if Loud Band hadn't started up yet, play until Loud Band does, then leave for somewhere else, maybe somewhere outside Christmas In The Park or good old Whole Foods because by that time the cold will have driven away the lightweights. 

I got to San Pedro Square and it looked great. Lots of people, lots of kids. I set up in Trumpetman's old spot and started in, and almost right away met a guy who said he's a professional guitar player and we talked a bit. He told me "the kids don't play like they used to" and I said, "You mean ... they play electric guitar instead of classical?" and he clarified that they don't play at all, like they used to, anything. He'd know if he's giving lessons, and if he's a real pro he'll know all the other teachers and their impressions. So when he says the kids now just aren't playing .... instruments... like they used to, I believe him. Nice guy though and I said even though I joke about putting a little sign up that says ONE LESS GUITAR I greatly admire good players and grew up with my dad's classical guitar music playing, Andre Segovia and Julian Bream and all that. 

A couple-few tips later, a guy (I forget if he tipped me, I think he did throw a dollar in) said he thought he knew me from somewhere, and it turned out to be the guy from the machine shop up at the end. So that was kind of neat. 

All in all it was going along swimmingly, but the overall noise seemed to pick up and all the tips I was getting were one dollar ones, except for one from one of the Old Spaghetti Factory waiters, who tossed in about $2 in change. After a half hour, I'd made $14. 

I tried playing at the well-lit wall across from Farmer's Union next but that was not good at all, no tips. So I packed up and went over to Whole Foods. Sure enough, there was no one there. This *did* kind of surprise me, as Pee-Pee Lady had been out in the cold last night, and tonight, being Friday night, would surely be more lucrative. 

So I set up and played, roughly 7:45 to 8:15 and made another $30.68, bringing the total for the evening to $44.68. Not bad for an hour's playing, maybe a little bit more. People were happy to see/hear me at Whole Foods, and a nice Black guy with his little daughter, her hair all done up with beads, hung out with me and we talked about school programs and how to get his daughter playing music. As they left I gave her my Santa hat. (I have a theory that wearing it makes people think I'm part of some city program and already being paid, or that I'm trying a bit too hard and willing to embarrass myself by wearing a dumb Santa hat, and I seem to get more tips wearing my Pac Bell hat.) 

I worked on two more songs, too. Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem, which we sang in school when I was little, and The First Noel which is sweet enough to give people diabetes, and they seem to love it. 

Some ease from my pains

 By the time Ken came by last night, at around 10, I actually felt good. My stomach was better, no headache, etc. I cleaned and vacuumed and was all ready when he came by. I got my check and we had a good ol' talk as usual, and I'd already listed my things for the day. 

Still, after that hard day with my stomach and forcing myself to work with the pain, all I wanted to do was take it easy and I just watched YouTube stuff and went to bed. 

I woke up at 8, decided I could use more sleep, and went back to sleep until 10:30. I'd taken maybe 4 grams of the L-Arginine powder last night but interspersed with my dinner of cheese, olives, and cucumber slices. My stomach feels fine now. 

I packed about 7-8 things that I could just take to the post office downtown, and headed out at 4. The post office drop offs went fine, with one kind of funny incident. As I was putting my bag away and unlocking my bike to leave, a *very* obese gal rode up on a mountain bike. There's a certain type, BMI of something like 35+, safety vest, helmet, and this gal was of this type. I looked away for a split second and heard a sort of "Oomph!" and the gal was flopping down on the thin grass that has a sort of half-height curb around it. 

I called out, "Are you OK?" and "Was that on purpose or an accident?" because it was almost like maybe she was just so tired or felt dizzy or something and flopped herself down for a rest. It turned out she'd stepped into a hole that was there, with the cover missing. We jokes about needing a helmet, "And maybe shin guards" she said, looking down at one enormous shin. All was well in the end and I rode off. 

I went to the bank and did my deposit and the money came out right to the penny so that's good. I rode over to Whole Foods and since they didn't have meat loaf I decided to get "Mediterranean" stuff, which turned out to be spendy because it's by weight. I also got a near-beer but this time, when eating, I looked at the carb content and it's 16g so I think it's seltzer water from here on out, even though it costs almost as much as beer anyway. 

There'd been a "Save The Children" booth set up, and as I'd locked up the bike, the skinny guy who used to set up a table and harass people came by, they told me when he'd left that he'd just asked for a brochure. But I was thinking, it's going to be busy at Whole Foods tonight. 

Which was academic, as I planned to try out Christmas In The Park. I walked over to the light rail stop and took the Green Line to Convention Center, and walked over. First I visited the caricature guys, and now they had some works in progress, and these guys are *good*. I told them so, too. 99% of what's called "caricature" in the US is really quickie portraits, and this is what one of the guys was doing, while the other was working off of a phone picture I think, something that looked a bit more exaggerated. 

I went over by the hair salon (or where it was) where it seemed like there was the least noise, and I was by one of those ticket things where you buy tickets for the rides too. After plying 15 minutes or so, nothing.  I went over by the steak house, next to the pillar where people come flooding through on and off of the cross walk, and a Chinese guy maybe around my age put in a dollar. 

This was super slow, so I walked into the actual Christmas In The Park and to the other side, and set up where the crosswalk ends at the other side. There appeared a guy with a dog and a sign, begging, and he didn't like my being there one bit. He came over and said his family owns "all of this". I said they should write him a big check, like those big ones people get on TV when they win the Publisher's Clearning House Sweepstakes. He said they wouldn't. And he said he didn't want me there. I said no problem I was heading up the way anyway. 

I went a bit further up and found a nice little niche, and played a bit when a tall carnie-looking guy came up and said I can't be there, but there's a "Free speech area" up at the end. I said that sounded good. The guy said he hated having to tell me to move, and if it were up to him he'd not do it, he knows how it is, etc. I said I'm really not hurting for money, this is a hobby etc. 

I went up to the end, and decided to play in front of the serpent/poop statue. I played a bit and a guy in his car leaned up and asked if I can play "Cucuracha" and I worked it out and play it, and went over and said, "Now I can!". Somewhere in here I'd gotten a couple more dollars and when a lady slowed her walk a bit, I said, "Hail the giant poop!" which she thought was funny but she didn't have change and said she'll be back. 

That's when I noticed a short, dumpy (aren't they all?) Karen type hovering around and now this officious blond nubbin was right in front of me saying I have to leave. The whole area, including sidewalks, is off limits. There *is* the stage, and live musicians can buy a slot there, starting at $100. I made fun of this doing my best impression of a "New England Lockjaw" accent which somehow I doubt she found funny. I got her card, though, and amazingly its name is not Karen. Nooo, it's Debbie Degutis. Yep, one letter away from Degustis. Or Degoutis. 

I walked back over to the light rail and took it back to Diridon Station. I'd played about a half-hour's worth and made $3. 

I figured it was cold enough to have scared the lightweights off and I'd play a bit at Whole Foods before calling it a night. After all, that Mediterranean style food and the near-beer had come to just under $20 and I wanted to defray at least a bit of that. 

I got to the bike racks and sure enough there was no one that I could see. I set up and was just warming up when who should set out of the shadows but Pee-Pee Lady with her sign. I started to say something and she snarled back I should not even talk to you after you stole that butter!!! I was like, "Whaa? What butter? She seethed, "I saw you steal it, you stole butter! I saw it!" etc. I said I've never stolen butter in my life. Then she got someone interested in the tale of woe on her sign, I guess, and she talked with them, probably just trying to talk them out of some money but I thought, "Great, she's going to tell everyone that I steal butter. But then, if they think I'm stealing food, maybe this will make me get more tips because anyone stealing food is really hard up". 

So she kept up doing whatever she was doing, and I kept playing, and neither of us got anything. She finally said, in a conversational and even comradely way, "People have no money. They have no cash because they're all using cards" and I just said "Yeah" or something noncommittal. And she kept it up and I kept it up and eventually she said something again about it being slow and I said that at least I'm getting practice, because once I go home my mind will shift to my work and I won't get any practice done. 

She finally went inside, maybe to steal some butter, and now I was alone. Tips started dribbling in. I played maybe 45 more minutes, maybe more like half and hour, and I got $15 plus another $1 a guy handed me as I was packing up. I got a cucumber to go with my cheese and olives for dinner and went through Kenny's checkout stand. So I had to tell him all the particulars, and I particularly told him about my being called a butter thief. His reaction was something like "You too, eh?" 

The thing is, I've been nice to this lady, I'd given her a bunch of good marking pens which she said she really appreciated, and yet she came, out of the blue, with this false or at least delusional accusation. This seems to be an invariable law, that if you try to befriend or do any favors for street scum, they will do their best to punish you for it. Tom's found that out with that scumbag James, Ken and I found out with a scumbag named Renee who used to live in the parking lot here, and now at a store where I'm known and which I rather like, I'm being accused of being a thief. 

I have a feeling Whole Foods is right up there with Target for knowing who's stealing what, though. And I'm well-trained having grown up as a "haole" in Hawaii - I never leave a store with something without the receipt. A lot of the time, that's who's doing the stealing there, the haoles. I even remember one time, in line at Kaya's Store which was lived next door to, a haole guy ahead of me in line looked at me with a conspiratorial smile, and stuffed a bag of boiled peanuts in his shorts or something. He flat-out stole it and I was too astonished to do or say anything. 

So I'm just going to be very neutral about Pee-Pee lady and any other street scum who are around. Be nice, but noncommittal. And never give them anything.  

I rode back here, thankful for my warm hat and gloves, and got settled in for the night. 

Exchanging one bad thing for another

 I  tried the L-Arginine last night and took the full dose in two servings a few hours apart. So, 6 grams. My headache went away in a matter of hours. 

I got 10 things ready to list but in the end decided to call it a night, watched some stuff on YouTube, and went to bed. 

I woke up around 10, with my headache still gone. This headache of mine is one that is just as bad on waking as any other time. It's been gone all day but I seem to have only traded it in for my stomach hurting like hell. I had my coffee and macadamia nuts but only had 1/2 mug of coffee. 

I packed things because I wanted to get out and get back before it got cold(er) and dark. So I did that and headed out around 3:30 I think but am not sure. The drop-offs went fine, and when I got back to H Mart I went in and got a bottle of Pepto-Bismol and a bottle of coffee to wash it down with. I'd finished off the last of the Pepto-Bismol I had here. 

I went to the chicken place and got my usual Wednesday two thighs, but this time got two servings of ranch dressing too. This was my old go-to when I lived in Sunnyvale almost 20 years ago. I'd go to one of the Irish bars and get fried zucchini sticks, Ranch to dip them in, and a Guinness. That'll fix it, I thought. 

It did not. Maybe my mistake was not getting a beer. Does beer fix a crumby tummy? In any case I'm not supposed to be drinking beer; I'm supposed to be all done with things like that, dammit. 

I finished my chicken, saving the bones and scraps, and did my route to find boxes and things. I found a few at the EMT place, some foam here and there, and at one place near Sanmina, got a bunch of these pale green pieces of foam I've found very useful. They were down near the bottom of the dumpster they were in, so I used the long bolt  I carry to get out a long piece of wood, then ended up using my pocket knife to sharpen the thing end of the piece of wood so I could just stab the foam pieces and get them out easily. I got them all stacked onto my load and only then noticed a Chinese guy, no doubt connected with the business there, taking a cigarette break and watching. Oops. But he seemed to think it was all good. 

Then I just rode back here. Traffic was crazy, apparently everyone's been called back to the office and not only that but somehow their stay at home wife, old grand-dad who only drives once in a while, etc. They've all been called to duty, because it takes a lot of drivers to do a really good job of that nose-to-tail thing they adore. While this may be great fun for the drivers, it was not fun for me and I just jogged over to Rogers Avenue and home. 

I first put some stuff out into the trash enclosure to throw away later, and took my chicken scraps and put them in the bushes sorta. Last night James had come by with his ill-behaved shit-machine dog and hung out for a while. Probably to let his dog take a shit or two and run around a bit. So the chicken scraps are a variant of my Stinky Fish Method. 

A while ago there was another dog running around loose, and at the same time I was finding food left out by H Mart including a fair amount of the time, grilled sauries which are like a much longer, dark-meat sardine. So I was leaving the scraps out or even all of them if I'd taken two packages and turned out to only want to eat one. Interestingly, whoever was in charge of the dog stopped letting it run loose and in fact that dog's not been around for months on end, maybe something like a year now. I finally put two and two together and realized the dog was scarfing up the fish remains, then regaling whoever owned it with fish breath. 

So in this variant, James' dog will scarf up the chicken scraps and have chicken breath plus James will worry about it eating chicken bones. Modern broiler chickens have very soft bones and dogs of that size have no problem handling them. But he and the dog live pretty closely in that truck cab now that they've been kicked out of Tom's place. 

Half-step bends

 Woke up around 9 I guess, stayed in bed until a bit past 10, it's 11 now. Last night I watched YouTube stuff and eventually the beer wore off. It was a carb-heavy meal I had too, with eating maybe 1/4 of the rice along with the sashimi, plus the bag of little corn/cheese chips that looked cute and frankly tasted pretty good. Plus whatever carbs are in an Imperial pint of beer. 

Around 1AM I felt a bit more normal again and did some re-arranging in the shop so I can have the trumpet on its stand with a cloth bag over it as dust cover, easier to pick up and play. And play I eventually did, for around an hour. 

My hero, Adam Rapa, talks about doing bends 1/2 note down and being able to do them on all notes, indistinguishable from playing 1/2 note down with the valves. It's not easy for someone who's not used to it! He says it's one of the exercises he was taught to do from early on (and the guy's only been playing since he was 8 or so, been in color guards and done it all). He says these days he doesn't do it lots but it's one of the "basic food groups" of his practice. He actually terms it that way. 

So I did a bit of that, plus played some songs. I'm sure the neighbor living in the unit next door appreciated hearing "Feliz Navidad" at 2AM. 

I went to sleep with a smile on my face because this half-note bend thing is just the kind of thing I need to do to get better, and Christmas songs are going well. 

I didn't wake up with one, though, because my headache is bad. I'm kind of allowed to feel like crap I guess because of that first shingles shot and also I did some leg exercises I need to make a part of my routine like I did years ago but unfamiliar exercises always add some recovery-load to the body. 

One interesting thing is, when I was done at the pharmacy, I decided to look for glucose tablets to see what they had. They don't have blood glucose meters, I'd concluded, but they ought to have some sugar pills. And along with the glucose tablets I found that they have tons of different meters and strips. The Walmart "Relion" brand are rumored to be quite good. 

So now I have a choice. I can order an A1C test from "Own Your Labs" and go over to a Labcorp clinic and get blood drawn, and that will tell me my A1C right from the horse's mouth. Or I can get a meter and do a classic glucose bolus test which is the gold standard for testing blood sugar regulation, plus I can test at other times. I could always do both, of course. 

The other thing is I think I'm going to quit eating sesame seeds as part of my coffee 'n' nuts routine. I'm eating 2 oz. of them a day, sometimes 3. That's just .... a statistical outlier. Nobody normal, at least not in this country, eats that many. It might be akin to the situation with Newman's Own black licorice. Fine if you have a standard serving. If you're inclined to eat the whole bag at a go as I am, you're gonna HURT. 

I could just fry a couple of eggs in the morning or have my macadamia nuts and some natto. I was into eating natto for a while and got to like it. It goes down nicely with some hot green tea. 

I packed just two things, to go to FedEx. Actually I packed a third, but it's going in the US mail tomorrow. I took off at 2, dropped the things off at FedEx, did my route looking for boxes and such, found a few, swung by the place near Tom's that throws out boxes on Tuesdays but I was too early, and then hung out with Tom for a bit. 

His truck is still in Reno. I brought him up to date on my latest busking adventures, and suggested he try getting an electric bike. James has not been around and I suspect is no longer all that welcome. That was about it, and I rode home by way of Junction Avenue. 

This was a good move because the guy who drums over on a side street off of Zanker, is now by the storage unit at the tail end of Junction. That guy *can* drum. I'm pretty sure he was playing a Rush piece. 

I got back, dropped off the trailer and stuff, and headed back out. I locked the bike at H Mart and checked out their hot food; I was actually very hungry. I got some cooked marinated beef and begged some chopsticks from the lunch counter and ate it out front. 

Then  I walked over to Ross and found a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. The line was huge so I talked quite a bit with this Chinese lady about the best chocolate (Lindt) and how See's is right up there too. And other things but it passed the time. Paid for my stuff and went over to Sprouts. 

At Sprouts I got my macadamia nuts and a small tub of L-Arginine powder. That left me with a bunch of change and a single dollar bill. I walked back to H Mart and got a couple of packages of natto and some cucumbers, and there went the change, and now I just have a dollar bill unless I want to get into my cash-stash. Which I don't. 

I was cold now and dark and I rode back. This is kind of nice, getting out and getting things done in the middle of the day. 

I got back and eventually got into the L-Arginine. The suggested dose is 6 grams a day but I'm going to approach that cautiously. It doesn't taste good but it's not horribly awful and washes down fine with coffee. 

Our shitty orange wannabee dictator

 I went to sleep at almost 2AM and woke up around 7, went back to bed until a bit after 10. It got down to 38 degrees overnight and when I woke up it at 50, or 10C. 

The Dump's latest tirades in which he rants about his aspiration to be a dictator, are all over the radio. His followers are eating it up and asking for more. 

I imagine his followers, there in the trailer parks and tarpaper shacks and "project" housing and old school buses parked on a lot, etc., thinking, "Things can't get any worse and this guy is at least spicing things up. None of what he says he's gonna do is gonna affect  us, and a real shake-up means we might be able to take that Black guy's landscaping business once he's gone, or oust those Chinese people from their convenience store and run it ourselves." 

But they don't realize that things CAN get a lot worse. They'll have to say Goodbye to their welfare, food stamps, "welfare" doctor and dentist, probably even free K-12 schooling and certainly free school lunches. The Black guy's landscaping business is going to get taken over by the "connected" or even more likely, most people will be too poor to keep such a business afloat (when I was a kid, where we were, landscaping services were unknown). Same goes for the convenience store or any other business or asset they think that once its non-Aryan owner is gone, they'll get to move in. The "connected" will move in and the "connected" are certainly not them. 

Plus there's DNA technology now. I just re-read the Wikipeda on Huey Long, a something-like-a-parallel to Donald Trump from the 1930s. Except that Long was highly intelligent, came from very modest means, and was endorsed and even much-loved, by at least a couple of Presidents. Long as assassinated by a fellow named Weiss, and the theory I've heard was that Long was behind a whispering campaign that Weiss was actually not pure White, as his name would imply, but had a trace of Black blood. In the US, then as now, we follow the "One Drop Rule". 

It's been a hilarious aside that so many White supremacists have been finding that they have some Black ancestry over the past few years, but in a Dump dictatorship it's going to be a lot less funny. The US, in the kind of slump we'd end up in, will have trouble feeding all of its people and thus have a reason to trim some excess population. Those who are "white-passing" but actually Not Pure Aryan may be some of the first "trimmed". I say this because with Blacks and Browns their status is obvious. They can be enslaved and worked and if they run off, they can't blend into the population. But these "Crypto-Blacks" as I'm sure some will call them, will be considered more dangerous. 

This is the reason I did that DNA test in 2016. I figured the US government will know what everyone's race is, and if I find out first whether I'm Jewish I've got a jump on them. By the time the rounding-up happens I'd be gone. Since it takes a year and more realistically two years to go through the conversion process, I figured I'd be in about the right position to bug out of here by the 2nd Dump presidency... 

It will be a country run under the rules of stupid 19th century "race science". We'll also have stupid 19th century economic rules so it will be the exact opposite of the return-to-the-1950s good times. It will be absolutely awful. 

It's unsure whether there will really be anywhere to escape to. With the US withdrawing from NATO and sending support to Putin, not Ukraine, Europe will be set up enter a massive land war. Japan is becoming more Right and more insular. Nations not going Fascist will certainly become more insular and defensive. 

I packed 11 things and was out of here at 4. I dropped the things off at the post office, then swung by Christmas In The Park to visit the caricature guys. The two Black guys had become four, as there were two more guys in the group, it turns out. All ISCA members as nearly as I can tell. We talked a bit and one of them wanted to know where I got the "Santa hats" because they wanted to all four wear them. I explained how to find the Walmart I go to, and then they got talking about parking hassles and so on. 

I rode down to Walmart myself, and went to the pharmacy and got my first shingles shot. It hurt. "Its hurts, the shingle shot" the guy said, and I told him about a shot we got in the Army that hurt a lot more. And about getting chicken pox at age 30 and what an interesting experience that was. I thought the shingles shots were 2 weeks apart and they're actually 2 months. Plus they're expensive, $200 or a bit more. I said I keep getting notices that I'm losing my present "carrier" on Medi-Cal at the end of the year but I'm pretty sure I'll be assigned another one and it probably won't matter at my level. But if it comes to it, I'll just pay the $200; it beats getting shingles. 

It was thinking the shots were 2 weeks apart that made me get down there today, thinking I'd have the 2nd shot before the end of the year. But it's all fine since this is why I save up money. 

I got some diet soda and a couple cans of kippers and was in line when I remembered about the Santa hats. I got out of line and checked - just two left in the whole store. So I grabbed those and got back in line. 

I put the hats in the Walmart bag and the other things in the bike bag and rode back downtown. Somehow I managed to get a bit lost and saw streets I've never seen before and I've lived in this area a dozen years now. But I got back onto Market Street and over to the caricature stand. I handed over the hats saying "They were the last two in the store so I had to get 'em". One of the new guys was there and was like "Whaaaa?" and I said, "Just like I said the other day, 'Consider it the ISCA dues I never paid'". That got me off the hook. I also complimented them on their clean design of their booth, which had a few examples of their work not tons pinned up everywhere, and easy on the eye. 

I went by the Amazon place for bubble mailers and then headed for Nijiya for the final bit of an experiment. On my way out, I'd stopped there for a nice sweet mochi with black bean paste inside, 60 grams of carbs worth, and a can of coffee. I'd eaten that outside before starting off for the post office, thinking I'd see what its effect is on my headache, which has been a pain today. No real effect. 

So on this 2nd visit, I got a plate of sushi and some interesting corn-cheese crisp things, ginger and cucumbers, and an Imperial pint bottle of beer. I remembered that time beer had given me some respite from my headache and wanted to see if it would happen again. 

I rode home with the usual amount of zombie avoidance, and set up to eat, and drink. Lo and behold, the beer helped. So now I knew I was onto something. It turns out alcohol has a "biphasic" effect on blood pressure in that in the near-term it lowers it due to making the body release something called nitric oxide, but long-term leads to higher blood pressure. 

This tells me two things: My headaches are related to my high blood pressure. And one promising way to lower it is to get more of this nitric oxide into my body. 

Also, since I've had a beer, I don't feel like doing much. 

Got-sleep-in Sunday

 I didn't list the 25 things last night although I "should" have. I'm serious about getting back to a daytime schedule and listing stuff at midnight isn't part of that. So I set the things aside and eventually went to bed after eating the cucumber, some cheese and olives, and watching stuff on YouTube. 

It got down to 35 degrees last night. I was tired not so much from the actual trumpet playing but from the travel. That's something people back in Hawaii will have real trouble understanding; the stupendous distances that are considered normal here. I was only a few towns over (from San Jose through Santa Clara and Sunnyvale to Mountain View) but it was the equivalent of living behind Kaiser High School in Hawaii Kai and performing at the Kahuku Sugar Mill, or, living in the quiet little neighborhood by the mill and performing at the big shopping center in Hawaii Kai where I chipped a tooth when I was little. 

I slept my full 8 hours though, waking up at 11.  Had my chicory coffee etc., and listed the things I'd photo'd up, so that was done. Work things during work hours, or at least daytime hours. 

I left sometime after 4, and rode over to Whole Foods. It's cold out there and maybe I'm feeling it more due to having lost weight. It was getting dark as I got to Whole Foods and the black guy who sets up *in* the bike racks was there, doing his thing. His thing is hassling people to sign his petitions. This would be fine and dandy except he bothers people and his setting up *in* the bike racks thing. 

I went in and got some meatloaf with gravy and broccoli and a near-beer. I sat at one of the picnic tables downstairs to eat, and *another* black guy, this guy in a wheelchair, came by and set up nearby to organize things in this big bag he carries sort of in his lap (when you're really fat, you don't have much of a lap really). The first thing he "organized" was to pull out a bottle of Ketel One vodka and take a good swallow. 

That's expensive taste, Ketel One, but it might not be so expensive if he's clever enough to have "boosted" it. The guy had no feet, so let's chalk up morbid obesity, diabetes, and alcoholism here. Plus when I was done eating I noticed he'd left a roll of TP on the table and he was over at the bus stop so I took it over to him, saying "I think you forgot this back there" and he asked, "What is is, money?" - not sarcastically but he honestly didn't know. So yeah, the 'beetus took his eyesight too. I got him to understand it was his roll of toilet paper and "It could be a shitty situation if you didn't have it" and that got a big smile. 

Except that it's showing up everywhere in the world wherever the modern diet is, diabetes might be called "The American Disease". The standard treatment is "one foot on the brake, one foot on the gas" with more and more medicine while the patient is advised to eat lots of starchy foods anyway. It's also considered a progressive disease where they start with removing your feet and then work their way up. 

I chewed gum to clean my mouth and went back in to buy some vitamins (I wanted to use up the $1's from yesterday) and then went out to the bike to put the vitamins away. The petition-hassler guy was gone. It was really cold out so he probably was done for the day, I figured. So I set up - it was just a bit before 6. 

It was slow going at first and guess who showed up again? The petition guy, who had been taking a break or something. He didn't say anything but he was not too happy, and I'd already set up and I can be pretty stubborn and competitive both, so I kept right on playing, nice and loud. The petition guy actually yelled at some potential "customer" which was not good, and eventually wandered into the passageway by Whole Foods and didn't return. Probably hopped on the bus with Diabetes Guy. 

I played my Christmas stuff and while things were slow to start, I think it's due to a lot of people going in and seeing/hearing me and deciding while shopping inside, to tip me when they come out. The people who dropped tips all seem to have taken some time to think about it. Highlights were the one guy who said I was "Keeping up the Christmas spirit - and no one else is" or something to that effect, and the guy who said he'd been at the German Christmas Market and seen the other buskers too, with their guitars. One had been playing "Sweet Caroline" which was agreed is not Christmas music "but people were having a good time" he said. As he walked to his car I played bits of "Sweet Caroline". 

It was bloody cold out there and an hour was plenty. I finally got to a bit over an hour, played the "Goodnight" song and packed up. I didn't even count the money. I went into Whole Foods for a cucumber and got everything arranged on the bike and myself, and rode home. I got back here at about 8, and counted up - $55.39. 

A very cold Saturday

 Well here it is Saturday. I got 25 things ready to list but then was fading fast as it was 11PM. I went to bed around 1 I think, and having told myself I can sleep all I like, finally got up at 10. Made up for yesterday's too-early wake up I think. At least my throat's not scratchy, doubtless helped by the elderberry lozenges I got at Whole Foods which  I had a couple of yesterday.

It was 59 degrees when I got up, my little heater is working as hard as my little fan does in the hot months. It's a balmy 56 outside as I write, at half to noon. 

I photo'd up the 25 things, and then headed out the door at about 3;30. I went to Whole Foods and had some chicken and broccoli, then decided I needed a coffee so I got a can of coffee and drank that, cleaned my teeth with a toothpick and then chewed sugarless gum. 

I had to wait a while for the next #22 bus, and the ride was not that fun because there was some crazy guy sitting a couple of seats ahead of us who was intent on letting us all know about his irresistability to women and his exploits with them. He cooled it a bit when the driver threatened to call the cops, but he was still a pain in the ass. And the nose, too, as I suspect he was also the source of a rotten smell. 

I got off at Castro street and walked up. The once-a-year German Christmas market was on today and although it starts at 11AM I suspected it would really get rolling once it got dark, because that's when you see all the lights. I walked around just enough to get the lay of things, and realized if I stayed south of the center of it, I could not hear the amplified band/singer/MC so anyone who could hear them could probably not hear me. 

It seemed like a good plan and I played for may be 15 minutes, making $2. This ... could be better. So I walked up until I was past the center of the thing, and set up in front of "K-Pot & Grill", a Korean restaurant. The front of it is windowless, there's a nice shelf there to put things, there was a bit of light; a very gentle spotlight effect, and plenty of people walking around. 

I started up again and the tips started coming with regularity. I played a lot of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and a few others, and at one point to calm down or at least entertain a kid who was a textbook case of ADHD, played my jazzed-up version of Saints. I'd started at 6:20 and at 7:20 I played the Lawrence Welk "Goodnight" song (someday someone's going to recognize it....) and packed up. I took a while neatening up all the money and a guy stepped in last minute and handed me a $20 so that turned Good into Outstanding for the hour I'd spent an hour an a half or more to get to and from. The total was $65.67. 

Now things get interesting. I walked further, up past the northern fringe of the Christmas Market, and now I was into plain ol' Castro Street. It's nice that they've got it blocked off to cars on weekends now, at least in the evening. There were two buskers, each with guitar, voice, and an amp. Both sounding ... well ... I'd not tip 'em. I saw a third guy packing up, talking with some guys. 

These other buskers were not doing things wrong, necessarily, because everyone just knows the busking's terrible down by the courthouse. Except when there's a Christmas market going on. And with people in a Christmas mood, it being December and all, they were playing, it seemed, Their Usual Shit(tm). 

Aside from stopping in Ava's Market for a cucumber, I walked up to the train station to find a sign saying CalTrain's not stopping on weekends due to the electrification project. Light rail it was, then. That took a good long while with the usual weirdos. I talked a bit with a lady from Morgan Hill and caught up on things in Gilroy as well as Morgan Hill. According to her, Gilroy's even more depressing and run-down these days. 

The ride all the way around to Diridon Station was long, and when I got off the train it was really cold. Like 41 degrees. I popped into Whole Foods for some olives and to report to Kenny who works there how I'd done, and rode home. It was really cold for my hands so I need to get my gloves out and keep them in the bike bag. I got back at a bit after 10, like getting in a bit after 1AM in the old days.