[Author's note 2016-03-05: I can't decide where this post came from, but this is not written in my usual style. It could be a transcript, a Dragon production, or scribbled from notes on an office calendar. I remember the day, but not most of the details mentioned here. Maybe it's a compilation of all the above]
Here is a shot of St. Jude’s, the church in downtown Miami where JP and I meet up sometimes on Sundays to hang out. Not at the church, I mean. We go find things to do. This entry is out of sequence, but who cares, this is a classic photo. The church, the flag and the condominiums.
Later JZ and I went over the Churchill’s, where he promptly got cut off under Florida’s new server laws, although Nicky broke down and gave him one. There was some kind of Frisbee throwing fracas just after we arrived. Bob, Jaime’s ex, was there, demanding the death penalty for all perps, even those cornered and desperate in situations where the police know TV cameras are present. Some religious nut case shot down seven people and himself. I am on the other side, I do not think police should be allowed to interrogate anyone or maltreat suspects in any way. Handcuffing is okay, but this face down in the street crap has no place in a free society.
Don’t tell JZ, but I was late also. I got to St. Jude’s past 1:30 thinking I had missed the boat. Then I saw his truck, that rather distinctive red Mazda in a lineup of limo’s. St. Jude’s is, I believe, donated by his dad a few decades back. It is a relatively tiny church in what is now surrounded by downtown Miami, and by million dollar apartment condos. To show you the kind of pull, you can actually park there all day on Sundays without feeding the meter and not get towed. I got friends in high places, bub.JZ decided to test mankind's capacity for beer and we got separated in the late afternoon. I went back to the car and crashed (yes, one of the advantages of being 5’6” is you can stretch completely out on a couch or car and get a good nap. But that is probably the only advantage.) What I want to know is why JP and I were buying stuff instead of selling it? Everybody else was in the act, even this weird Jamaican guy selling coconuts and sugar cane (how original) and singing through a microphone that was not hooked up to anything (somewhat original, but sending the message they don’t have electricity). JZ found his way back to the Taurus as planned, just an hour late. I watched the fireworks, though I left when the police started arresting people and roughing up the drunks who were mostly keeping to themselves. It was DUI city by six in the evening.
You don’t think that was the whole day, do you? There are six hours before noon you know. I tackled the new Hewlett-Packard. There is something installed wrongly in Windows XP that is causing an IRQ conflict. Worse, it is not letting me install software which can be a nasty and half ungodly problem to fix. Do I take it to the shop, or do I figure the problem out myself like I am supposed to? As I pondered, the Hippie showed up at the door. I’m saved! The computer can wait. His Sunday lesson was a no-show. We drank coffee as he watched the left camera tape of our session last evening. (Left being any camera more to the left side facing the stage from the audience side.) It is becoming slightly clearer with time that he will never rehearse a tune or a set well enough for the other person to do a good job.
My place is starting to look a little like a computer repair shop. I had to swap out IDE (hard drive) cables. They tell you these cables are all alike, but some are “too damn short”. Also, even though many brands of peripherals will fit into a spare 5-1/4” bay, the IDE sockets do not always line up. It is tricky to bend a parallel cable to fit staggered pins. I had to plunder several computers to find one that even worked, and still had to install a 1995 CD player (which probably will not play CD-Rs).
[Author's note 2015-03-05: This description involves a day at the local celebration known as "Calle Ocho". It means 8th Street, and that is the physical location in SW Miami. I have been harping on JZ to get rid of that red Mazda for ten years now, the thing is a menace. I drove my own car, a Taurus station wagon, downtown to meet up after church. At this point, the damage that driving was doing to my blood pressure was unknown. But I tuckered out easily and often crashed in that car.]
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