Why so snotty

 Why am I so snotty/sniffly all the time these days? There's got to be a bunch of shit in the air, pollen or who knows what else. I showed Ken how the dirty air here had killed our old printer, and unlike a printer, my system has to be self-cleaning, hence all the snot I guess. It may be a sign of good health but it's still annoying. 

I suppose however annoying the weather is here, it's worse in New Orleans, a place I contemplated going to retire for a hot minute. It gets really hot and damp there. There's no beach, really. There's swampy stuff and crawdads, but basically you just sweat and, I guess, drink. 

When Katrina wiped the place out there was this (turned out to to be) short-term romanticism and "boostering" of New Orleans. The TV series Treme was a classic example. I was buying it on DVD at Fry's and it was excellent. 

Hype about N.O. has died way down, but still, if I went there to play my trumpet (Eentsy Weentsy Spider anyone?) and be a hip cool New Orleans guy, I guess I'd keep a blog going but I'd capitalize on it. For instance, I sure can't capitalize on living in San Jose. But New Orleans? Ha-cha-cha! I could make T-shirts and coffee mugs etc and sell them on Teespring or whatever's being used these days. 

I could self-publish a book or two on Amazon, of weird New Orleans stories of which I'd have plenty in no time. Squalor - readers in Davenport Iowa whose idea of a spicy time is a bit too much pepper on their mashed potatoes, love reading about squalor. I could publish a book of my original songs, or a CD of same. Sell music however Tanya Huang does these days - it involves computer codes fans pay to use to access files rather than physical CDs. 

I could publish a book of my satire lyrics and they'd be 100X more likely to be a hit because the artist behind them would be in NEW ORLEANS. That's how this stuff works. 

I had the misfortune a couple of days ago to end up talking to a local bum. It happened this way: I passed by my favorite veggie dumpster and there was a bum there. So  I rode a slow circle around the parking lot thinking, "No meth-head can stay in one place for long" but as  I came around the 2nd time he was still there. Fuck it,  I pulled right up and checked out the veggies. The bum was eating an avocado he'd peeled like an orange. I made light talk about the veggie prospects and ended up getting two big heads of broccoli (one was dinner last night) and the bum handed me an onion. 

We talked and shot the shit and it turned out he was the guy who played drums. Yes, with a kit; somehow he fit a kit into his RV. I said he was really good and essentially, "You're sitting on a gold mine, kid". I told him to assemble a "suitcase" kit and go busking, he'll make money. I told him about a guy on drums with a kit in Santa Cruz and makes really good money. He told me how he'd played on Rogers Avenue and some people stop and tip him, apparently. I felt in now way inclined to even approach the source of the drumming, however good. 

In other words, the guy's been largely hiding his light under a bushel, hoping to be "discovered". I told him how he's gotta get out there. He's got to get out where there are lots of people, and preferably where musicians will hear him and he'll get asked to sit in, or even fill in for bands' drummers when needed. You can make a good career out of drumming, I said. 

I could have gone on and on but I was talking with a bum, after all. He's the same crazy guy I talked to years ago who was playing around with a drone and told me he was "going with" the daughter of the owner of this complex. All of is pure nutball, as the complex has changed owners a couple of times since then. Or managers or something. He told me all kinds of imaginary stuff about the daughter of the owner having an office in here and doing everyone's taxes. Then he told me about a female bum who'd died right there on Zanker Road a couple of days ago, a fentanyl overdose, and he'd called the cops and had detectives working with him yadda yadda. I don't disbelieve a bum-ess choosing to be dead, but the rest of it .... 

But anyway, I've seen this a few times, a real mis-match between a musician's skill (high) and their ability to get out there where the people are and where they'll really be noticed (low). I still have the sticker given me by the "Southbay Swindlers" who were really excellent, but weren't getting any tips because they were playing in a lousy location. 

So the thing is, if you're going to be in a location that the world romanticizes, almost as much as Hawaii, and just sit in an apartment and smoke crack, then you can't blame anyone else for not being "discovered". 

More hammering on Biden on good old NPR. It's the most idiotic idea ever, to change candidates this soon before an election. It doesn't matter, ultimately, as I'll vote blue whether it's Biden, a house plant, or that dog in the Target ads with a circle around its eye. 

I've got a $1 bill in my wallet plus $4.95 in change in my change bag, and I feel fine. I used to panic a bit if I didn't have money to spend every day, but due to my recent "tests of character" now I feel OK about simply not spending for a few days. 

I packed 14 things and discovered one of my trailer tires was flat. I tried using my little pump because it's easier to get on there, and that was pure no-go. So  I got out my floor pump which was harder to attach but I was able to fill it up in no time and apparently the Slime inside went to the hole and the air stayed in. 

I went off to the post office and FedEx, found some packing stuff on the way home, a bunch of OTC medicines and band-aids and stuff from the EMT place, and got back here. I'd also found a big packet of In-N-Out sauce so I got back here and used 1/4 lb of hamburger to make In-N-Out roll-ups with the two crepes out of the package that were left (I'd made 3 egg burritos with the other three). They were good but very messy just like eating at In-N-Out. 

Ken came by at his usual time and even brought me a burger and fries, but he looked around in his car and had forgotten his check book so no pay until tomorrow night. At least he can order shipping supplies now because he just got paid by *his* boss. We still hung out and talked and solved the problems of the world.