Yuli, the Armenian guy was in again. After nearly a year he got a reply from the government stating he should take his case to Homeland Security. That’s passing the buck in Washington, as he is claiming refugee status as a Christian from a Moslem country. You may recall his case, his lawyer messed things up so badly that Yuli can’t stay here because they say he is not from the country where they are deporting him! Yes, it was a California lawyer, why do you ask? (When Yuli complained, he got a very nasty phone call from the lawyer’s association.)I’m lucky to be here, an old lady rammed across three lanes at an intersection this morning doing around 65 on a city street. I saw her coming and fish-tailed out of the way. By pure luck she fit between two cars with an inch to spare. I gave her husband the finger as she gunned it up to well over 80 on Hallandale Beach Boulevard to make the next light.
A singer-guitarist was in the shop today applying for the petitioning job. Fred reports that of the hundreds of people that responded, he has just eight good ones. The musician, Jean has a boyfriend. He plays at a club downtown and I’m dropping over there tonight by invitation. On Saturdays the shop can be full of men, and I am sometimes amazed by the fundamental differences that evolve with guys who never got much when they were young. Strange as it seems, when such men see a babe, they do not imagine her naked like I do. Instead they imagine her in lingerie working a stripper pole. I have never been that desperate.
I miss the Argentina coffee place so I walked over for a look. They are certainly changing the atmosphere of the whole place. There are new doors facing the parking lot instead of the street. Wallace didn’t care for this place but I hang out there before deciding what to do for the day. Oh, for the record, as of y’day, I have been unemployed for three years. I would like to point out, however, that when you are not in debt, this is not an all as terrifying as it otherwise sounds. I recall the days when I still owed on my student loan and being unemployed for even a week or two was scary enough. I cannot imagine owing a few hundred thousand on a house.It is now 10:00 p.m. and I’ve set up the snack machine. This was a five hour task as all the coin mechs had to be reset and I decided to install a hasp rather than try to replace the Euro lock. As a reward, I’m heading for 1923 Hollywood Blvd to see Jean and I’m taking my bass along for the bike ride. Downtown is just eleven minutes from here.
2:30 a.m. and I’m back. I didn’t play, but I got a good perspective of what is happening downtown. I arrived early, then toured the whole place. Its okay, though I would not be one of the patrons spending $75 to say I’d been there. Jean does indeed have a boyfriend who is extremely talented. Possibly too extreme. He has a backing track and a studio-grade horn player, so they do these beautiful renditions of Latin-style hits. They put a lot of work into each note.
This band was overkill for this town. The fact is, like the Hippie, they played at the audience instead of with them. Jean did a small set around midnight and I watched for elements of a show. (We could not possibly compete with the people already there.) Jean has the right elements, more a singer than guitarist. She is overplaying to flesh out the midrange. I can work with this and she agreed. We exchanged song list and there wasn’t a single communal piece. I like it already.
