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Yet another campsite. |
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It´s a blistering hot beach but the water is nice. Coconut water is not as cheap as it should be. |
I finally charmed my way back into Costa Rica. The Cubans have all been imported to Florida or returned to Havana by way of the shame train. Good luck to those who taught me some Boleros. The immigration folks remembered me and tried to find something wrong with my paperwork but it was all in order...except my insurance had been purchased a month earlier so they only gave me 2 months visa. I only wanted one month because if it´s hot now then it´s unbearable in May. These are tired details that I don´t like discussing. Really pointless topics that can´t be translated or shouldn´t be written about except because I´m desperate and hopeful something romantic will spring from these crooked fingers.
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They spelled my name wrong...O.G.G.Y |
I don´t have video of one disastrous attempt to play a 2 hour solo set at some fancy bar where a glass of wine is $7. Fuck them. That audience should cheer at the mere mention of Hoagy Carmichael but they chewed through my Nat King Cole and if I were paid in applause then I would end up owing that restaurant money. But I ended up playing at an open mic night with better success. The equipment might´ve been to blame but really I´m not interested in performing and it was only circumstance that got me into trouble. Let me at some vintage Honda motorcycles and a tennis racket, but please don´t expect me to perform for the retired stock broker crowd who wold rather hear Michael Jackson disco smash-up remixes played by a computer DJ.
Life goes on until it doesn´t. Woody Allen says death begins at birth and accelerates during dinner parties. This was confirmed the other night. I´m so accustomed to desperation and unpredicatable disaster that I stepped on a Manta´s wing today and didn´t even freak out. The water was clear and warm and a shark couldn´t chase me out.