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Getting Ready for Mardi Gras

February 7, 2009

Doesn’t take much to make me happy. New Orleans, breakfast at noon, lots of jazz, a warm sun at my back, shrimp gumbo extra hot, and Howard is able to walk again without freezing his feet. A beautiful house in the garden district all to myself, people who becomes friends after a hello. I am singing here for a few weeks with friend Del on whorehouse piano, up and down Bourbon Street and in little out of the way clubs on the side streets of the Quarter. I am housesitting and doggie sitting for a wonderful friend who is visiting Belize — Her funky house is full of Indonesian voo-doo and hot sauces. I’m learning some new music for upcoming gigs in the cold and grey north where my friends are about to have a nervous breakdown, like I almost did. Well, I’ll have it when I get back. Remember, rice and hot sauce is cheap, and so is the rental of a cold water flat. Don;t forget about public transportation and if you’re worried about money for your retirement, if you sell everything you own, which is always a good plan, you can take the money and put it under your mattress, and if you run out, get a cyanide capsule. There are alternatives to recessional suffering. There is another life out there that you’re missing because of your fears and habits. Oh, dear, I feel, at this very moment, that I am catching a bad cold. Now, that’s life!!!!

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Dumb- Ster

The cop looked in the dumpster and noticed a picture of his wife. He had just received a complaint from the Olympic Sports store that someone had dumped bags of garbage in their dumpster. That someone was me. I’d cleaned out a few drawers of hometown memories that morning, – high school notebooks, graduation pictures, diplomas, clippings and headed into what I thought was a free-for-all dumpster tucked behind a strip mall. After I threw the bags into the dumpster I took a walk with the dog and when I returned to my car I was met by the policeman and the assistant manager of the Olympic Sports store. Read more »

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