Byrning Notes LV (It’s a game of stats-like the only thing keeping me from attaining my goals are a buncha’ zeroes.) © 2015
“Charles…He’s dead.”
That was the thirteenth
phone call that woke me up. My sister was crying.
“Is this some kind of sick
joke?”
Minutes later, two other
mutual friends called confirming. Got about three hours of sleep before going
to work. My eyes were blood shot. It was very challenging to hold back the
tears. Vance demanded that I talk to the assistant principal. Tears formed in
her eyes as I explained. Mingus was very supportive. They offered to give me
money for the trip.
…missing information…
After the funeral, a group
of us met at the Irish
Coast
The day of the funeral the
weather was around 70.
2 am, the Witching Hour,
came. That’s when hell froze over. I was supposed to fly back to Arizona t
There were some loose ends
I felt Charles would want me to tend. One of these loose ends was his estranged
girl friend. She felt guilty. She had missed a phone call from him a couple of
hours before he died. I knew the road she lived on. Vaguely, remembered where
the house was. Charles and I went there to visit years ago. I found the house
as if years ago was yesterday. Her father came to the door. My presence refused
to be denied. She came to the door, “Let’s take a ride.” The winds had a fierce
chill. Went up and down the spine, “If you have anything you wish to tell
Charles say it now.”
“I knew I couldn’t be
there. I had too many health problems.”
…missing text…
Made my way back to Arizona
Fortunately, I’ve prayed to
my Loh’Rd, applied the steps of recovery to these thoughts, take my crazy
pills, so I didn’t relapse. It’s the emotional/spiritual toll from Charles
death. A twisted way of dealing with grief. “John you gotta’ keep it together.
These girls need stability,” the assistant principal pulled me to the side. It
has always been a problem being so fragile. Got me kicked out of college ROTC,
probably contributed to me getting fired from my first teaching job, and it
contributes to me seemingly being unable to be in relationships romantically
with women / with anyone.
Stayed focused on going to Los Angeles
Did performances.Link Couldn’t decide on which song I would play. When I got vacation
time, from March 23 to March 30, I decided to let my emotions dictate after
much prayer.
Tribal Café had very neat
murals. Had an inside restaurant. There was a help wanted sign for promoters to
bring in more acts. One of the guys hanging out was asked to be the host. There
were only a few of us. I went first with, “Where’s My Groupie?” That song has
the most hooks. Also felt like that was one of Charles’ favorites. He did the
country style riffs on my best video of the song. Link The other performers
were stand up comics. I had built myself up to face a huge crowd. No one was
there but the performers. This could’ve been a bar anywhere. I had the most
challenges in the Mississippi Delta. Yet what did I expect during a week day.
There seems to be, by my guestimation, thousands of us artist seeking the lime
light. If I was to go all out and move here, depend on my performances that
paid to make my living, how long would it take? Do performances by busking
(playing on the streets for tips), open mics, sell my cds, just to get a paid
sense of approval. How many have died waiting on that big break. Realistic
optimism: all of us entertainers have at least one person that loves us. And
from that one many others could come. It’s a game of stats-like the only thing
keeping me from attaining my goals are a buncha’ zeroes. $100. to a $1,000.,
$10,000 to a $100,000. (couldn’t even fathom), $100,000. to $1,000,000.
Spent the next day in Griffith Park
trying to get as close as I could to that Hollywood
sign for a selfie. Almost went as far as jumping the ‘Trespassers will be
prosecuted’ sign-didn’t think that would be to good for my teaching career.
Went inside the observatory. Took much film and photos. Much of which I haven’t
put out. Yet. I didn’t have the technology that I have now. The photos I did
take I added to my facebook album “Things I See On My Way To Work.”-it was very
popular. Link once again the idea, “Live life to the fullest. Gotta’ make my
recovery mean more than my High and Drunken Days.
The next joint was Cahuenga Department Store. Felt like the right place to be by the signs on the building next door
(The Acting Corps),
“If not now. When?”
Still haven’t included all the footage yet. That one was a
bit challenging. Was about a hundred folks there. And the host had us all draw
numbers. Waited about an hour and a half. Told him I came from Clarksdale , birth place of the Blues. “Oh
yea. Where’s that?”
“Bout an hour south of Oxford .”
Saw him reading. Assumed he was well read. Surely, he had heard of Faulkner.
“Oh yea, Oxford .
I was there around 68. saw on this tent wall all sorts of racist things about
African Americans. I really knew what Dylan meant by his song ‘Oxford Town.’”
“We have a poet in the house. Please welcome Hoe’kneee’aww’
Bie’reeen.” I was the only poet there
among more stand up comedians. live performance in Hollywood
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