I am here in Venice Beach at Starbucks at the end of the Venice Pier. Oh, yeah. I’m online, and I am listening to the Southern Blues from the Crescent City Blues and BBQ Fest, streamin’ live from New Orleans. Drinkin’ iced coffee.
I walked around amidst the crowds of people at Venice Beach. It’s Sunday, and there are tons of people here. It’s hot and I went into the public toilets by Muscle Beach, between the crowded arcade and the pier.
Barbara’s backyard isn’t big by any means, but she’s got a whole world of
veggies and fruit trees and three bee hives out there. In the front yard are cacti and succulents.
Below is a picture of a very cute performer here at Venice Beach Boardwalk. I saw him in Hollywood, too. He calls himself “Sexy Black Guy.” He does acrobatic tricks, like jumping over a row of people who are bending over. He’s funny, cute and smart. He (and all the black performers out there: the majority) make funny, smart jokes about white people.
I’m going to Miami in two days. I was conceived there, I think. Home of my Soul circa Nov. 7, 1945. I think my Soul’s Home now is New Orleans. Or maybe in New Mexico. Or perhaps somewhere I haven’t been yet.
The gorgeous pair of young people in a few of these photos were pulled out of the audience at Venice yesterday (they weren’t together) to participate with the performer who jumps from a chair into a pile of broken glass. Awesome because of the chemistry between the young, gorgeous couple.
The performer kept calling the young man “chicken legs.” Ha ha. A wonderful half hour show on the Boardwalk.