Yesterday I had severe sleep deprivation. Severe.
I headed off to a cafe I had heard about that had live music, figuring I would not sleep, I would pass out that evening and leave it all till then.
So I headed off and discovered San Francisco!!
There is a secret here, that I am honour bound by a sacred code to never reveal. But the fact that I have found it has blown my mind and improved my already high opinion of the place. I couldn’t believe it. But there it was, at the end of a long road. Even though it was very reasonable, a local told me the classic line “You should have been here yesterday!”
That’s a hint for those in the know…!
Anyway, enough of that. So I went looking for this cafe and discovered San Francisco has trams! Not just kitschy tourist cable cars or vintage main street rattlers. Underground it has full proper Trams.
If there is one beast that can control the rapacious onslaught of the bus system, it is the noble tram. In San Francisco, you can get anywhere! It has the best Public transport system I have ever encountered. Such a relief!
So I caught the tram to the street where the cafe was.
Now, stay with me dear reader, because there’s going to be a lot of things that happen next that if you are from Melbourne will seem incomprehensible. Alien. So, believe me, every word is true, it all happened.
I found not the cafe, but another cafe, that had “live music” on the front in big white letters. It was around lunch time so I thought I’d investigate.
Thinking only of a coffee, maybe a sandwich, and a surreptitious assessment of the live music advertising at best. But no sooner had I entered the premises when the girl behind the counter asked me straight out if I was here to play.
Well, not exactly.
Do you want to play?
Well, sure! Is this the place that had the open mic last night?
No it wasn’t. It was another cafe, with live music.
She rang the manager, who said she’d be there in an hour or two if I wanted to come back then, and she could tell me what the deal was. I got a coffee and went upstairs, found a couch and slept soundly for two hours, hoping I didn’t fart or have night terrors while unconscious.
Not good for business.
The manager turned up, explained the deal, took a cd and said she’d listen and get back to me in an hour or so after she’d had a listen, and then we’d see.
I went straight back to sleep.
She came back, raving about the CD, booked me there, on the spot, to play her other, bigger cafe the next suburb over. But the only time I could play was this week, so we couldn’t advertise or anything. She’d slip me on in the brunch hour, 10 am, the very next day, which was…er…is today.
(Can you spot the difference here between Melbourne and San Francisco?)
I woke up early, not having enough sleep again. I went down stairs and met my Chinese friend and Edgidio ( spelt his name wrong previously, there’s an extra bit in there, still very cool name,) the cook. I spent an hour two swapping English for Chinese.
The day before, inspired by my morning drug addled adventure, I went and bought an English/Chinese dictionary. It annoys me not remembering new Chinese words, and seeing them written down in Pin yin helps me retain them. In fact, one might say, it makes it Rong Ye!!!
Ha…yeah…anyhoo…..
So I helped Lin Pai and Edgidio with the morning chores, had some excellent brekky and headed off to my gig.
On the way, I met a man from Haiti. He was very well dressed, including a neat little Turban.
As I walked by him, he said to me with much excitement:
“Excuse me! I have to speak with you! You have the most amazing aura! I have something to tell you! Do you mind if I read your palm? You aura is huge! I’m sorry but I must speak with you!”
Now, I know what your thinking. You’re thinking wide eyed naive tourist falls for the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe so. But I always try to have time for conversation, especially with the eccentrics. I always try to have time to talk about god with people, which I think is a cool subject, but unfortunately I only end up talking god with born again christians. (I don’t capitalise these words on purpose, note.) So if some guy in a turban stops me in the street to talk about my aura, sure, why the hell not?
He went on to say that in the next 24hrs, my whole life would change. I was going to be a famous musician (like, I am sure, every other musician he had spoken to that morning,) that the world was going to embrace my music. That in the next 24hrs there’d be a huge shift. that many people had come to San Francisco, but the gods had decided now that I was the one to be chosen to be lifted up. He went on for quite a while, stroking my ego and prophesying great wealth. He said I was going to be a king!
I told him, I was not interested in being a king, nor so much the wealth. I just want enough to fix a few things, and if he had a line to the gods, tell them to hurry up!
He said I was like Santana, who’d come to San Francisco to find “his thing,” and start the Santana band. He said I had a spirit like Chic Corea.
All of this I found had to dispute frankly. And, that shit ALSO NEVER happens in Melbourne.
So true or not, it was a very nice lift to my morning! I gave him a CD, and he said he was very grateful, that he would pray for it and channel much energy into it and I would be lifted up.
24hrs he said.
I imagine he is listening to it right now, thinking to himself “Oh damn, that was the wrong guy, this guy is a banjo player! Oh no!!”
24 hrs he said.
12 to go. Hopefully when I wake up, I’ll be famous.
So I went to the gig and it was a huge success. The folks loved it and the girl there made me the best sandwich I’d ever had. It was a wrap, actually. And I made some tips. Not much. But some.
12 hours to go I guess….
On my way home, I spent $400 on a new bloody phone.
Here’s the cafe:
http://www.greenhousecafe-sf.com/tv.php
If you ever in this part of town, go get a coffee and tell them CC sent you!
You won’t get a discount or anything, it’ll just be nice.
Weird and wonderful things happen on the streets of San Francisco everyday, and I an loving it here.
CC Thornley 