Friday, August 11, 2017

August 11

I've not only stopped posting any comments on Street Musician Daniel's page, but I may stop visiting there entirely, as I think he's got malware on there that affects your computer if you even read the page.

Not that that's any loss; by now, from reading his page, I am quite knowledgeable on the subjects as the availability of weed and harder drugs in New Orleans, how to look in the bushes or trashcans for half-finished drinks, the general tenor of the street people there (skeezy) and more interestingly, about a few serious street musicians like Tanya & Dorise, and Doreen the Clarinet Queen, whom I can read about from other, non-malware-bearing, pages.

Ken got me back here at just a little after 3, so I had time to pack up some small Ebay items since I was going to go by the post office anyway. That took about half an hour, and I went out to the light rail, got off at the old post office downtown and unloaded the packages, the payment for the porta-john here, and a bunch of bills Suzy, Ken's wife, wanted me to mail. Then I just walked over to the bank. I deposited $100 and kept out $150, making sure to get a $50 bill to give to the lady selling the bugle.

Then I hopped on the #22 bus to save a bit of walking to Diridon Station. There was a guy sleeping on the bus bench, who didn't even notice when a bus went by, as I was going into the bank. (The bus stop is right in front of the bank; pretty convenient.) I waited for only a few minutes when another bus came, with squeaky brakes, which woke the guy up. I got on and beeped my Clipper card, and the guy was jumping all over gathering up his clothes and stuff he'd been snuggled up with on the bench, then was literally hopping mad as the bus pulled away. It was pretty funny. Since I was only going to the next stop, I stood by the front where there were a couple of scruffy types sitting. I observed out loud: "That's what you call an unhappy camper" and that got a laugh.

So I got to Diridon and a round trip ticket to San Mateo was $15.50, ouch, Still cheaper than any other way though. It got up to San Mateo almost an hour early; I was supposed to meet her at Philz Coffee at 7. So, I went inside to get a coffee. Their coffee is very fancy, and they didn't "do" the double espresso I asked for. "Only hand-made pour-over coffee" the guy said. He asked me if I liked mild or "more bold" coffee, and I said mild, and when he suggested I let him choose for me, I ended up with a "Dancing Waters" for $3. Which was plenty strong, and had a ton of different flavors in it.

It was all hipsters on their smart phones and pads, and no magazines at all. I sat out front, and when a lady at the next table left and didn't take the local paper with her, I took that, and then when it opened got the table in half shade. I read the hell out of that paper and sipped my "Dancing Waters" and when the paper was played out, watched the "odd people show", ongoing on any busy street.

Then the lady showed up. She had a large zippered handbag sort of thing and I made a joke about a Bugle Boy bag for the bugle, and she pulled it out. Ugh! It was dented and battered and bashed. The mouthpiece was missing about half of its silver plate. All I could say is, "I can't buy this" and as she'd loaded me up with all kinds of history of the trumpet, she started to go on and on about more history, and I suggested she just donate it to one of the veterans' organizations as she reeled off her ever-changing history of this particular bugle. And so a handshake and well wishes and we were done.

I had a walk around the downtown area; like downtown Mountain View is full of restaurants. I heard of a music store and chased that down and it was closed - probably a guitar-oriented place anyway. I looked in the used book store for trumpet books but they just had guitar and piano books.

Finally there was nothing to do but get the train back, and I got back to Diridon at about 9. Jazz Fest was on, and two ladies were at the light rail station with me and I showed them how to buy tickets. Then we looked at the schedule carefully, and the next train was going to be in 17 minutes or something and that was too slow for them, so they took off to catch an Uber.

I got downtown and just went to Safeway and did a lot of shopping. A bottle of Stoli and one of Cuervo, fish, asparagus, sour cream, all sorts of things which I carried in the messenger bag and an extra plastic bag I always carry. On the walk back from the light rail station here, I checked the electrical supply's dumpster and pulled out some nice bubble wrap so I had to roll that up and carry that too - I was pretty loaded down when I got back here.

I had a little Cuervo and decided may that was what that guy gave me in Mountain View that tasted so good because it tasted pretty good tonight. Add a little tiredness, a little thirst, and maybe there's some synergy with Tejava iced tea too.

I had to go check the lab place, so I took off on the bike and did my usual check of the dumpsters around here. I found a barely used bag of laboratory wipes, like Wypalls but a different brand, that were brownish on one edge - big whoop, I used 'em on dirty stuff around here. $12 worth of wipes, I say yes. There were some metal scrappers loading aluminum scrap from a very large low dumpster apparently for scrap metal, into a van while some other scrappers in a truck came nosing around. Meanwhile they didn't know what to make of me. I told 'em I don't collect scrap, in fact I leave it out by my shop - I'm all about shipping materials.

By the time I got back and organized and put everything away, I was pretty tired and didn't feel like cooking so the fish went into the freezer and I just had pecans and Parmesan cheese. And some more Cuervo.

All through this, after looking at that awful bugle, I was trying to figure out how the photo could look so good, but the horn in person look so bad. And, it was the same horn, because the leadpipe was slightly bent. Had there been a family fight, where the bugle had been bashed around? That would not account for the mouthpiece wear though. I think I know what happened - Photoshop.

I can't even be angry, it was just baffling. And the more I think about it the more I have to just feel sorry for the lady. Photoshopping the photo must have taken a lot of work, and the hassle of trying to foist it off on someone, hoping they'll feel sorry for her and buy it anyway. And all for a measly $50?

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