Me o my am me twentyeight… 3.28.24
After spending more than 4 weeks in Miami, trying to see and do everything, I finally ran out of things to do. I had gone to all the relevant museums that I could. I skipped a few of the more obviously touristy and rip off museums like the Children’s Museum which cost $35 dollars and the Paradox Museum as well as the Wynwood Walls museum which was just a graffiti and mural museum.
Everyday starts out with the problem, hmmmm what am I going to do today. Looking at the Miamionthecheap website I noticed that there was a free concert at Civic Center at 12 noon. I happened to notice this around 11 am so I jumped into action. I thought I could make it if I hurried. I grabbed my lunch and water and stuffed it all into my backpack and walked the 20 minutes to Government Center and then rode 4 stops and got there at 11:50. I had never been to Civic Center which I supposed was where city hall and other important city functions were.
I saw the stage and it was just a few hundred yards from the station. I got there right on time. There were about 10 tables set up and a bunch of umbrellas. There were only a few people there. It turned out that this stage was set up in the middle of the Jackson Hospital Complex. Its complicated but the Jackson hospital was somewho acquired by the University of Miami which is funded by medical innovator Phillip Frost. It still has the name of the Jackson Complex but now it is affiliated with the University of Miami.
The band was run by (Fran)Cisco Dimas who is a very accomplished trumpeter. His music was great. Everything about his playing was great; his tone, his melodic playing, his phrasing. The rest of the band was good too. They did a mix of old numbers and some newer ones that I knew. There first song was a version of the old corney song “Tea for Two” and somehow they made it cool again.
The concert was punctuated with occasional giant umbrellas tumbling over. The concert was put on by a local jazz group JazzMiami which administered the concerts, setting them up and doing sound etc. Afterwards I talked to CIsco. He was a very nice guy; a professor of music at Florida International University. Not the main music program, which is University of Miami but still a good gig.
After the concert, I roamed around. There was a farmers market where they were selling all kinds of ethnic foods; Indian, Nicaraguan, juices etc. I thought about getting some but I had already eaten my lunch. I walked around hoping to find some government buildings, but as far as I could see it was hospital complex buildings. I walked in a few and didn’t see much to look at. I went back home and rested. My energy was low.
There was yet another free event going on and this one was at the Perez Museum. It was my favorite museum that I had found in Miami. This was a patio event with a duo singing songs that were vaguely familiar. It was a guitarist/ vocalist playing with a violinist. The guitarist was good and he never made mistakes. I watched him closely. I wanted to be able to do that someday. It sounded good and he was only using chords too. The violinist was a good example of someone playing nice fill-ins though it was a little hard to hear his solos. There was no soundman and I guess that made all the difference.
Even though the music wasn’t that interesting to me, still it was great to be there. Sitting on the porch on the Bay in the guts of the city. Every 5 minutes a jet roared by just behind the tall skyscrapers just to the north. It always looked like they were going to collide. To the east was the Bay, sinking into twilight, the monstrous cruise ships in the distance and the port. It felt so expansive just to be there. I talked to a few people. One young woman I somehow struck up a conversation with. We were flirting. She was a CNA and preparing to be a nurse. It was her last semester. Her dream was to travel. I told her about my travel life and she seemed intrigued. “Why not travel with me next time.” It seemed like she was really interested. “You can play street music with me tonight it you want.” Again she seemed interested. “After I go to the museum we can meet up.” We made all the arrangements. Of course, she didn’t show up or even message me. Hate being ghosted.
It was already 8:30 by the time the concert let out. I was tempted to take the bus over to Miami Beach and play there but it would be too late and it gets windy there at night.
I decided just to go over to Flagler Street, where Walgreens was. I could always walk home from there. I could also walk there in just 20 minutes. I walked down Biscayne Blvd. I walked past the Keseya Center. Just as I passed it I saw an older black man sitting in a wheel chair. It looked like he was selling books. I walked past him and then turned around and went back to talk to him. He said he was selling his book. It was his dream, during his retirement we just wanted to travel around the world and sell his book, “Memoirs of a Taxi Driver”. I can sell you an autographed copy.
I picked up the book and it looked professionally printed in hard cover. I asked him how many copies he had. “!,000”. He seemed like a very intense and intelligent man. He asked me about myself and when I told him I was from Youngstown, he cocked his head. Didn’t you have a crazy congressman. “Yes. Jim Traficant.” Somehow, he knew all about Traficant. “Didn’t he spend time in jail? Didn’t he die in a tractor accident?” It was amazing all that he knew. It was fun talking to him. He was an original thinker to be sure. He reminded me of myself in that he loved playing or selling on the street.
“Why don’t you read an excerpt from my book. Sure enough there was one on the inside cover. I wasn’t impressed. It was full of grammatical errors and didn’t catch my attention. We talked for a while longer, and it was enjoyable, but when his narrative started leaning towards Trumpism, I knew it was time to go. Later I regretted not talking more to him. Later I looked him up on Amazon and sure enough his book was there, Memoir of a Taxi Driver by C. E. Patterson.
I went over to my spot on Flagerly across from the food court Eatery. It wasn’t Miami Beach by any means but here I felt like I was in the heart of the city. The crazy guy was around. He seemed to be hungry tonight. He was asking people for help. The only problem was that when he opened his mouth to speak, just gibberish came out. He was different than a lot of the street people, who were drug addicts or alcoholics. This guy was certifiably crazy. I wondered what he would do with his money. Could he buy food in a store? Was he capable of that. I doubted that he bought drugs or drinks. He didn’t need that. He was on a perpetual high. In the end I decided to give him $3 which could at least get him something to eat.
I really wish cities took care of their homeless populations better like they do in Richmond Virginia where they have social workers walking around and just trying to help people in need out; give them a blanket, tell them where to get a free meal, or a shower, get them medication if they need it. The social workers there are trusted by the homeless population. They don’t turn them in, they just help them and if the people want to try to assimilate into normal life, they try to help them. Most cities though, this people are on their own.
I played for about 3 hours and nothing much happened. Still it was nice to play. Around 11:30 I again decided to take the metromover across town and ended up at Government center before Midnight and at home by 12:30. Tomorrow I had an early day.
the World Saxophone Bus 