i have nothing against the colts. almost feel bad for peyton.
but i am glad that the underdog won.
good for the city, and great to see all the talking head be wrong.
love it.
New Orleans Saints Celebration!!
i have nothing against the colts. almost feel bad for peyton.
but i am glad that the underdog won.
good for the city, and great to see all the talking head be wrong.
love it.
New Orleans Saints Celebration!!
As the saying goes, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. Tattered or torn, it might be the best story. I’ve got to keep reminding myself of this.
This little story proves it.
I had some down time on a little tour, and decided to hit the streets and busk for some gas and lunch money.
I was in Monterey, CA, so I headed on down to Cannery Row on a Sunday morning. Set up right across from the Monterey Canning Co. building. In a little spot across on the sidewalk, right in between a main parking garage and the main drag in Cannery Row.
I set up my little street cube amp, this thing is awesome, and sang with no mic. The reverb in this spot was soooo good. I played a tune and spotted across the street, under some trees, in a little park, the first person to notice what I was doing. It was an old, scraggly, white-bearded homeless man. He starts bobbing his head, then he gets up and starts doing the crazy homeless guy dance. It gave me a little chuckle.
Soon though, he heads into the street, still doing crazy man dance, and heads my way. I thought, “oh no, here comes trouble, if not just a hassle.” I’ve busked before, and sometimes the street people can be a pain, and you really have to keep and eye on your dough, because some will swipe it. All that was in my case at this point though was my “seed” money, you know, the money you toss in there to let people know it’s OK to tip.
Well, he comes up to me and starts talking, at first I couldn’t understand him, but then I realized he was making a request. The Beatles. I love the Beatles, so I said sure. Then, he surprised me, before I even started playing the next tune, his request. He thew a dollar in the case. My heart changed right then. I played Norwegian Wood, then Yesterday, then I’ve Just Seen a Face. He was the first person to put money in my case that day. I thought he was coming to hassle me, to steal my money, and he was my first fan. This guy has nothing and he tipped me. Goes to show.
A good amount of money followed from other people, a wide range of the classes. The most frequently generous being the Mexican families.
I got tipped by other homeless people, too. Two others. I don’t want to generalize too much, but I definitely noticed that those that have the most, seem to want to hold on to it the tightest.
So, the lesson is, as succinctly as I like to put it, so I remember, keep an eye on your stuff, but don’t be a jerk.
well, been so busy, no real writing going on.
but it’s been a crazy summer for sure.
booking my fall tour and really looking forward to meeting some new folks out there.
also, going to try and have some new tracks down before i get out there.
otherwise, i’ll just be bring “jarm”
oh, and hey, if you buy “jarm”, contact me, i redid mission and it’s really cool. just email me, and i’ll send it to you for nothing.
ok, back to work for now

it is coming
in the mist creeping
over the hills
kissing needles on
thirsty firs
beetles scurry through
the parched grass
aphid children
splashing
sliding down stalks as high
as the coyote paw
returning home
in the morning light
the weighted scent
of the distant ocean
gently flows through
the window cracked
and kisses the cheek
of the dreaming boy
smiling
he knows
he is home
creeping in the mist
life is strange
and life is wonderful
and it doesn’t go
any way you thought it would
slow the rules go
stopping to say hello
then bustle and bump
and rush to pass by
because black is white
and the sun can turn blue
the oceans turn lemon
as i swim deep with you
for if the sky should fall
come crashing to earth
dust clouds cough, settle, and linger
but it’s food for the singer
riddles, like middles,
are ticklish to touch
so chose your words wisely
preferring to blush
answers come like a
summer shower thunder
when you feel it in your veins
a poet a prophet a sinner a saint
all sit playing cards inside the pearly gate
because black is white
and the sun can turn blue
the oceans turn lemon
as i swim deep with you
~jon ji
one hundred chinese poems
staring back at me
rhythm sticks lay on the ground
dark aborigine
a collection of gypsy jazz
and a shirt that is much too small
waiting to be sent
to a child in the fall
this pattern is my prison
of walls myself i make
of rhythms like a curse on
marching words to a beat
a strict and simple meter
that comes so easily
a childish prose that flows
and knows exactly where to be
it’s a little daffy
it’s a little bugs
a tune of loony moons and spoons
that’s starting to really tug
and chug and steam
my mind is racing
oh my inner voice
off and running
insane and spun thing
a hyper little boy
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