Today was a really nice day of busking. It was HOT! Like actually a warm day. In the morning I met up with Martin to film the interview part of the documentary. Flaca gave an interview as well, but I had to translate. I wasn't planning on busking since I'm seriously behind on many things (practicing the Messiah for choir, cleaning my room, and planning my impending Europe trip, for example), but it was just such a gorgeous day and I was already wearing my piano dress so I went for it. Around 2:00 I headed out through the Meadows to the Middle Meadow Walk. I decided not to play there. There were already two buskers: an older guy on guitar and a gorilla playing a drum set. Yep. Must have been hot! In addition to the competition, most of the people about were students, who are notoriously broke. I continued on to the Royal Mile. Here's what happened:
Sunday, 25 March 2012
I walked down the Royal Mile, and I heard a voice say, "There she is!" It was Todd Various, magician/escape artist extraordinaire. He's an outgoing American with an orange-themed act, and he was sitting atop some sort of electrical box in the company of Tom, the busker from yesterday, Robbie, a 15-year-old busker I hadn't met yet, and another man whose name I didn't catch. He invited me to come hang out, but I said I had to get to work. They said not to bother. I guess despite the sun it was a crap day for tips! I lingered for a bit, and sat up on the box. This was so nice; the sun felt so good and I was soon down to just my dress. It was really nice to talk to these guys, who are pro buskers. I've been trying to figure out my visa, and Todd was really helpful in discussing that. Tom had some wisdom about where to and to not busk in Europe. It's fun hanging out in a group like this, you hear nonchalant lines that you hear in no other context. I asked Robbie about his busking, and he said, "Todd and I had the same magic teacher, so we both ended up here." Of course. These are all guys who use the "circle pitch," a big circle which gives you room to do crazy stuff: juggling, escapes, fire swallowing, etc. A Steve gave it a go, despite the terrible crowds. He juggled swords, swallowed a sword, and his grand finale was lying down, putting a bed of nails over his torso, having a grown man stand on it, and swallowing fire at the same time. The crowd did indeed suck! It was funny hearing Todd's commentary through it though, about how he totally called what Steve was going to do, talking along with the jokes, and pointing out one that he wrote.
At one point, some men walked by with a megaphone, from which the one in charge spouted religious who-knows-what. It was very loud, and Todd wasn't okay with it. He tried to think of a way to ask them to quiet down, and finally ran into a bagpiper that owed him money. He had this piper go right next to him and start playing at his command. Guess it worked!
It was great just sitting with these guys, because I finally felt like I fit in. Usually I don't befriend the other buskers because I'm competitive or they are, or something. This was really nice. And all the vendors were out chatting with us too. Next time I'll know more people to say hi to en route to work!
Anyway, around 4:00 or so we disbanded. Todd set up his show, Tom went to some other event, and I set up at Charlie Chaplin's spot. This was nice, I was pretty near Todd, right across from a visual artist, and I could hear bagpipes but it was still a great spot. I was in the sun for most of it, which felt so good!
1. Two guys stopped to listen during "I've Just Seen a Face." We discussed other Beatles songs I could do, and I played "Let It Be." They stuck around for a few songs, and I learned that one is Mexican and one is Turkish. The Mexican one unfortunately didn't recognize "Morir Soñando." They did recognize Amelie songs though, and the Turkish guy sang the one he wanted to hear. It wasn't one I know, but they settled for "A Quai."
2. Some other folks joined them in watching me, and I actually had a little crowd! I asked for requests, but no one spoke. Finally a man mentioned "Molly Malone," the traditional Irish song with so many other names. Thanks to a practice round on St. Patty's Day, I winged it pretty well.
3. I had some technical difficulties. First off, my new straps are installed! They're really great. This is the first time I've had brand new straps, and they're super padded and nice. They are a bit big though, and I had to poke extra holes to get them to fit. However, I got them to fit over my standard four sweaters ("jumpers," as I'm trying to say now). Since I was down to just my dress, they were loose and I couldn't poke more holes without the appropriate tools! What I did was grab a red bungee and pull the straps together in the back. It was a bit uncomfortable, but did the trick. Also, I forgot the little white wrist-support thing that I try to wear, which meant the accordion was whacking my metal wrist which is always uncomfortable. Lastly, my dress is bad! It was made hastily, and the bodice was very boring. Right before coming here, I did some work to give it a more stylish top. It really doesn't look good, and the alteration made it a bit skimpier than I would like. Those standing on my side could see a bit more than I'd like, so I'll have to start wearing a shirt under it.
4. Someone said I have a good combination of look and sound. Mission accomplished!
5. An old guy walked by in full Scottish apparel, carrying a bagpipe case. He looked very stern and I anticipation castigation for being in his spot or playing badly or something. Instead, he tipped me and said something about the sun!
6. I was definitely performing more than usual. I think it was a combination of giving my interview and talking to Todd and everyone that did it. In the interview, I talked about how it's best to be theatrical and try to look passionate and everything, and with Todd I just observed the pure theatrics of his personality and act alike, which was inspirational. I think of my act as being really different from the circle acts; that I get away with not interacting with folks as much, but it always helps! I found myself talking to people unsolicited more and making some jokes, in addition to trying to play super passionately. These people can see that I'm a performer, so I might as well act like one! For the record, during Danny Boya man tipped, clearly for that song choice. I told him, "Thanks, but I could still mess up the good part!" I'll probably be recycling that one.
7. A man who looked Latin-American of some sort asked if I'm Czech. I said no. He said that my setup looked Czech, with the accordion and the dancing doll. I said that Flaca's from Mexico, thinking he'd be super pumped! My racial profiling proved unsuccessful for the umpteenth time when he could not have cared less about that piece of information.
8. The Godfather theme hasn't provoked too many comments yet here, but one guy sang/danced along with it today!
9. A young man stopped by to take some pictures on his 35mm camera. I feel bad, I played a hard song while he was shooting, and kept looking down as he snapped. Wasted a few shots. He came back later to talk, and we're friends now. He's from Vancouver, and he's studying cardiovascular surgery in Norwich, England. (It took me all day to figure out why I'd heard of Norwich; finally remembered that Winky from the movie "Best in Show" is a Norwich Terrier!) As you may know (but probably don't, because why would I have ever mentioned this in an accordion blog?), I've always had a thing for medical students. For some reason med students are more appealing even than doctors, and definitely more than students of anything else. I think it's because of my secret big interest in medicine. Anyway, this particular med student is super cute. No English accent though. Anyway...I'll be in Southern England before too long.
10. This old crazy guy stopped by as I was talking to Matt. He had a big grey beard minus the beard; so big mustache/mutton chops. He was wearing a kilt and nice boots. He had exchanged words with Todd earlier, and he seems to have ample funny things to say. Some French youths stopped and posed for a picture with me, and the old guy invited himself into the picture. He loudly said, "It's a beautiful day here in Glasgow! Oh no, I got on the wrong train again!" which was clearly part of a well-worn comedy routine that he does. He mentioned playing my piano dress. Later, when I was walking away, he was lurking near other vendors. He yelled after me, asking when he could play my dress. I said "Anytime!" A grumpy vendor listened in and said, "Don't encourage him!!"
11. During "Don't Stop Me Now" a lady tipped, saying "That was unexpected!" Yesss, totally the point of the pop songs.
12. That reminds me, earlier some guys commented on the Queen and asked for more. I really have to shake a leg arranging Bohemian Rhapsody!
13. A man told me about the Insider Festival somewhere up North, and encouraged me to play there. Will have to check it out!
14. I talked to a middle-aged woman from Canada. She's from the West Coast, but after she's done touring the UK, Ireland and Spain she's going to fly to New York, travel up to the East Coast of Canada, then buy a "hippie van" and drive cross-country. Go her!
15. I was playing "All of Me," and some young men stopped and sang along. A lot of pressure for a new song!! Turns out they're from Amsterdam. I told them about my trip, and they recommended Couch Surfing. Maybe I'll end up surfing with them! I asked for their favorite song to play, and one said "Oh When the Saints Go Marching In." Improvised it pretty well, even with some fancy stuff! I wanted to include the harmony on "Oh how I want to be in that number," so the second time around I stopped and announced that I wanted to do it, practiced the harmony, then played it with the melody and they were patient and confirmed that it was worth it! Fun fun.
16. Posed for lots of pictures. Of course, many didn't tip. I'm really trying to not smile until they tip, and follow them down the road with my eyes after they don't tip. Often the pictures come from the other side of the street. One guy did come back today after photographing and not tipping and getting a nice glare. Not sure if this tactic worked or if coming back was his idea.
17. An adorable little girl came over a few times. She exclaimed, "That!" about Flaca, and checked her out. She was more interested, as it turned out, in the accordion. I let her play some keys, and she did a good exploration of high notes and low notes.
18. A 12-ish-year-old with a camera outgoingly asked (in an American accent?) if she could photograph my dress. I released the accordion to give her a full view, and she said she wants to be a fashion designer. Good for her!
19. A lady walked by in a Cape Cod sweatshirt. I yelled something like "Yeah Cape Cod!" and she acknowledged me but didn't smile or talk or anything. Lame. Wouldn't it be so cool if I saw a tourist here who was a tourist in Ptown and saw me there? Happened with Boston/SF.
As I said, I tried to be super into songs. Tapping feet, dancing a little, leaning forward and back to use the optimal bellows, etc. It really worked, I played better and people watched! Looking forward to the crazy summer months. I love playing when it's hot!! I'm so much more used to playing when it's cold!
We celebrated Daylight Savings today, so it was still mega light out at 6:30, when I quit. A little unnerving actually, it was such a drastic shift! I would have kept playing to the get dinner crowd, but it was choir night. Still a great day busking!
P.S. No one recognized Twin Peaks. How weird is that??
Sunday, March 25, 2012
"I Don't Know Where to Hide from the Scary Monsters"
Saturday morning! I was a little worse for wear because I had stayed up late the previous night chillin' with a famous band that I very much admire. Yeah. So awesome. Pokey LaFarge and the South City Three, from St. Louis, are on tour in Europe now. I saw them Friday night, and finagled my way to bars with them afterwards. Obviously I couldn't go to bed early. Saturday is my big work day, so I knew I'd be suffering a bit without a full night's sleep!
I managed to get to the Farmer's Market by like 11:30. Today was a special today because I was being filmed by Martin, a budding documentary filmmaker who's making a short on the busking life. It wasn't a great day to film since I was obviously going to suck, and I looked like hell. As it was, it was okay! For some inexplicable reason, I played really well! Way better than last weekend, when I had practiced a lot and had slept. Go figure. It was tricky, though, because there were two other acts performing. In the middle was an entire orchestra of OAPs, a phrase I've picked up here that stands for "Old Aged Persons." On the castle end was a duo: man on guitar, woman on violin, both singing. Potential to be good, but when I went by they were covering Mumford & Sons, but with WRONG harmonies. Come on. Poor choices all around. (It's okay if I cover Mumford & Sons, though.) Luckily my normal end was free though, about which Kat had a lot to say (you remember her, right? Super friendly Big Issue vendor with an incomprehensible accent).
It was strangely misty (well not actually strange for here), and the castle was even hard to see! Oh, I learned the word "haar:" "In meteorology, haar is a coastal fog along certain lands bordering the North Sea; the term is primarily but not only, applied in eastern Scotland" (Wikipedia). Here's what happened:
Saturday, 24 March 2012, Part I, Farmer's Market:
1. The orchestra dissipated, and one musician stopped to chat. He mentioned that his wife plays accordion, and she has a blue 120-bass lying around that they'd let go for like £100! Tempting, but I'm really not in the market for one that big, especially that I'd have to transport back home. Thought about it. He also told me about a Klezmer Ceilidh/jam on Sunday afternoon. And he took a babysitting flyer for his daughter!
2. I've waited too long and the note "Kid bike helmet" no longer means anything. Damn.
3. A guy was sitting on a bench, and got super pumped for the not-ready, butchered version of the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Yesss. I ran a nerd test on him: he in fact didn't acknowledge Taio Cruz, but also didn't react to the Tetris theme. Only partial nerd, then.
4. Nice kids! Clara came by first. She's this adorable little four-year-old with a perfect Madeline haircut. She's been in the blog before as the kid who preferred "Ring of Fire" to any kid's song. Today, she told me that she had a paper accordion at home that she had made. She was getting ready for her first ever ballet recital that evening. She said that she had come over while her dad got burgers. Mmm. Their other friends came over soon after. First I will mention the incredible outfit on the older girl: t-shirt with polka-dots, blouse with donkeys, jumper with rainbow stripes, all atop checkered pants. Way to pull it off. The other little girl was such a tiny little human being, but she had such a big personality and voice! Right off the bat, she confided, "I don't know where to hide from the scary monsters." Oh no!! She made Flaca dance, but kept her on her knees, which made for an interesting dance. Such cuties!
5. There was another family with a little toddler. I've been trying to test which kids' songs kids recognize over here, so I tried "Old MacDonald." Sure enough, I saw the mom singing along to the kid. They came over after, and it turns out they're American! Switched to "Wheels on the Bus" next, but the kid didn't do the matching arm movements.
6. Someone finally recognized "So Long, Marianne!" A lady listened, then said it was one of her favorite songs. Correct. I'm surprised this one took that long.
7. Some kids sauntered by with red popsicles. I was about to invite them to use Flaca, but then realized that her white piano skirt would not fare with with sticky red popsicle hands.
8. A kid and zir dad came by, and the kid started dancing, and proclaiming, "Dahncing!" I have no idea if it was a boy or girl. Pretty cute! More interested in zir own dancing than Flaca's. The dad noticed our matching dresses!
Generally speaking, it was pretty slow at the market. Eight is very few bullet points for a market Saturday, and the comments and tips were generally slow. Maybe it was the weather (although it was balmy despite the haar), or maybe everyone just had enough produce already. Hmm.
It was warm enough that I didn't have to go inside for my break! Just found a nice thing to sit on and ate my weird pink leftovers (delicious beet risotto!). Lots of people watched, actually. Painted box, piano dress, weird pink leftovers. I guess it's a sight.
Saturday, 24 March Part II, Royal Mile:
I walked down the Royal Mile and was surprised by the lack of buskers! There was no piper, no Dieter, no Charlie Chaplin, no circle pitch. Weird. I set up on the South side of the street which I normally don't do in front of the church next to St. Giles cathedral. Dieter's usual spot. Strangely deserted, although there were still people milling about. I wondered if I had missed a memo or something. I didn't stay super long here, but got a few notes:
1. "Grenade" was successful! Someone sang along, and one guy ran back to tip me just for Bruno Mars.
2. Italian man stopped and asked what the instrument was called in English. I learned that in Italian it's a "fisarmonica."
3. American (?) family stopped, had a kid, played with Flaca. They took a picture, and asked if they could put this paper in it. It must be a Flat Stanley! As it was, it was a cat. Same idea though, the dad said. Cool!
4. One guy showed his appreciation of my act by sticking his tongue out. In like a way that's supposed to be like winking or something. That's new!
5. A man stopped and tipped, saying that it's good that I'm getting an education. He asked me to play Elvis' "Wooden Heart." No could do, sorry.
6. During "Danny Boy," a man laughed. What?? Like, held his head and laughed, I guess at the idea of my playing it? It was a super passionate, sad performance of it!
7. I talked to Tom, one of the circle pitch buskers. I had met him my first day busking in Edinburgh, but we hadn't talked since. I asked why it was so deserted, and he attributed it to the weather. Also said there was a weird energy and folks weren't tipping. He said that Charlie Chaplin had quit early to see a play on Princes St. with his girlfriend. What a totally normal thing to do!
8. Oh, I was using my new straps! Unfortunately, I became aware of something rubbing. It turned out to be the strap that has that little thing that's supposed to keep it tucked in, like on a belt or watch. The little ring thing was stuck too far up, so one end was loose and was rubbing the bellows the wrong way. I tried a few solutions to get it out of the way, finally borrowing the rubber band from the Let's Go book and looping it behind and tying it. I reckon it's going to work nicely!
9. Lastly, things took a turn for the magical when the haar rolled in thick, and it got cold! I wondered how my reeds would fare. A piper started up again, playing Scotland the Brave naturally, through the fog. I tried to play along, but it was in a weird key.
Went home, then Ceilidh danced the night away! Ow! The end.
I managed to get to the Farmer's Market by like 11:30. Today was a special today because I was being filmed by Martin, a budding documentary filmmaker who's making a short on the busking life. It wasn't a great day to film since I was obviously going to suck, and I looked like hell. As it was, it was okay! For some inexplicable reason, I played really well! Way better than last weekend, when I had practiced a lot and had slept. Go figure. It was tricky, though, because there were two other acts performing. In the middle was an entire orchestra of OAPs, a phrase I've picked up here that stands for "Old Aged Persons." On the castle end was a duo: man on guitar, woman on violin, both singing. Potential to be good, but when I went by they were covering Mumford & Sons, but with WRONG harmonies. Come on. Poor choices all around. (It's okay if I cover Mumford & Sons, though.) Luckily my normal end was free though, about which Kat had a lot to say (you remember her, right? Super friendly Big Issue vendor with an incomprehensible accent).
It was strangely misty (well not actually strange for here), and the castle was even hard to see! Oh, I learned the word "haar:" "In meteorology, haar is a coastal fog along certain lands bordering the North Sea; the term is primarily but not only, applied in eastern Scotland" (Wikipedia). Here's what happened:
Saturday, 24 March 2012, Part I, Farmer's Market:
1. The orchestra dissipated, and one musician stopped to chat. He mentioned that his wife plays accordion, and she has a blue 120-bass lying around that they'd let go for like £100! Tempting, but I'm really not in the market for one that big, especially that I'd have to transport back home. Thought about it. He also told me about a Klezmer Ceilidh/jam on Sunday afternoon. And he took a babysitting flyer for his daughter!
2. I've waited too long and the note "Kid bike helmet" no longer means anything. Damn.
3. A guy was sitting on a bench, and got super pumped for the not-ready, butchered version of the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Yesss. I ran a nerd test on him: he in fact didn't acknowledge Taio Cruz, but also didn't react to the Tetris theme. Only partial nerd, then.
4. Nice kids! Clara came by first. She's this adorable little four-year-old with a perfect Madeline haircut. She's been in the blog before as the kid who preferred "Ring of Fire" to any kid's song. Today, she told me that she had a paper accordion at home that she had made. She was getting ready for her first ever ballet recital that evening. She said that she had come over while her dad got burgers. Mmm. Their other friends came over soon after. First I will mention the incredible outfit on the older girl: t-shirt with polka-dots, blouse with donkeys, jumper with rainbow stripes, all atop checkered pants. Way to pull it off. The other little girl was such a tiny little human being, but she had such a big personality and voice! Right off the bat, she confided, "I don't know where to hide from the scary monsters." Oh no!! She made Flaca dance, but kept her on her knees, which made for an interesting dance. Such cuties!
5. There was another family with a little toddler. I've been trying to test which kids' songs kids recognize over here, so I tried "Old MacDonald." Sure enough, I saw the mom singing along to the kid. They came over after, and it turns out they're American! Switched to "Wheels on the Bus" next, but the kid didn't do the matching arm movements.
6. Someone finally recognized "So Long, Marianne!" A lady listened, then said it was one of her favorite songs. Correct. I'm surprised this one took that long.
7. Some kids sauntered by with red popsicles. I was about to invite them to use Flaca, but then realized that her white piano skirt would not fare with with sticky red popsicle hands.
8. A kid and zir dad came by, and the kid started dancing, and proclaiming, "Dahncing!" I have no idea if it was a boy or girl. Pretty cute! More interested in zir own dancing than Flaca's. The dad noticed our matching dresses!
Generally speaking, it was pretty slow at the market. Eight is very few bullet points for a market Saturday, and the comments and tips were generally slow. Maybe it was the weather (although it was balmy despite the haar), or maybe everyone just had enough produce already. Hmm.
It was warm enough that I didn't have to go inside for my break! Just found a nice thing to sit on and ate my weird pink leftovers (delicious beet risotto!). Lots of people watched, actually. Painted box, piano dress, weird pink leftovers. I guess it's a sight.
Saturday, 24 March Part II, Royal Mile:
I walked down the Royal Mile and was surprised by the lack of buskers! There was no piper, no Dieter, no Charlie Chaplin, no circle pitch. Weird. I set up on the South side of the street which I normally don't do in front of the church next to St. Giles cathedral. Dieter's usual spot. Strangely deserted, although there were still people milling about. I wondered if I had missed a memo or something. I didn't stay super long here, but got a few notes:
1. "Grenade" was successful! Someone sang along, and one guy ran back to tip me just for Bruno Mars.
2. Italian man stopped and asked what the instrument was called in English. I learned that in Italian it's a "fisarmonica."
3. American (?) family stopped, had a kid, played with Flaca. They took a picture, and asked if they could put this paper in it. It must be a Flat Stanley! As it was, it was a cat. Same idea though, the dad said. Cool!
4. One guy showed his appreciation of my act by sticking his tongue out. In like a way that's supposed to be like winking or something. That's new!
5. A man stopped and tipped, saying that it's good that I'm getting an education. He asked me to play Elvis' "Wooden Heart." No could do, sorry.
6. During "Danny Boy," a man laughed. What?? Like, held his head and laughed, I guess at the idea of my playing it? It was a super passionate, sad performance of it!
7. I talked to Tom, one of the circle pitch buskers. I had met him my first day busking in Edinburgh, but we hadn't talked since. I asked why it was so deserted, and he attributed it to the weather. Also said there was a weird energy and folks weren't tipping. He said that Charlie Chaplin had quit early to see a play on Princes St. with his girlfriend. What a totally normal thing to do!
8. Oh, I was using my new straps! Unfortunately, I became aware of something rubbing. It turned out to be the strap that has that little thing that's supposed to keep it tucked in, like on a belt or watch. The little ring thing was stuck too far up, so one end was loose and was rubbing the bellows the wrong way. I tried a few solutions to get it out of the way, finally borrowing the rubber band from the Let's Go book and looping it behind and tying it. I reckon it's going to work nicely!
9. Lastly, things took a turn for the magical when the haar rolled in thick, and it got cold! I wondered how my reeds would fare. A piper started up again, playing Scotland the Brave naturally, through the fog. I tried to play along, but it was in a weird key.
Went home, then Ceilidh danced the night away! Ow! The end.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Ragamuffin Ragamuffin Ragamuffin
Once again, it is Saturday night, 12:19 AM (so Sunday), and I am exhausted but I have sooooo much to blog about! Five pages of notes. Going to write a post. Not necessarily complete sentences. 100% chance of typos, grammatical errors (me!?!?) and just completely wrong words being typed. Like "the" instead of "and" (caught that mistake a few times in my last post, which I edited for a change). In fact, this post will just be a slightly more detailed version of my notes. There's a lot, I'll try to get back in the habit (always makes me think of Sister Act 2) of putting the best anecdotes in bold.
Saturday, 17 March 2012: ST. PATRICK'S DAY.
Today was St. Patrick's Day! Beauuutiful sunny day! Never before have I put in so little planning. Last year I practiced Irish songs and bought tacky green plastic light-up shamrock earrings at Walgreens. The year before I wasn't a busker, but rather a student. I brought knock-off Baileys to a cappella rehearsal. The year before that I was in Spain, and complained about the drunk Americans being drunken fools. Even that takes planning. This year, I did no prep because I've been prepping for the big party tomorrow! I could have gone to my old flat last night to borrow green clothes, but opted instead to stay in and practice practice practice my new songs. The only thing I did was arrange my many sweaters so the green one was on top, rather than the purple to match Flaca. There is one (two) Irish song (s) in my regular repertoire: a medley of the obscure "Eleanor Neary's/The Miller of Drohan." In the section of my set list that is songs that aren't in the starting rotation but I sometimes play when I'm super sick of the other songs, there's "Tabhair Dom Do Lamh," "The Lowlands of Holland," "The Wild Rover," and "The Leaving of Liverpool." I played all of them today, plus "The Spanish Lady," the one that's called either "Miss Molly Malone," "In Dublin's Fair City," or "Cockles and Mussels," and of course "Whiskey in the Jar." Most of this was in vain. Early in the day, I was surprised by the lack of celebrators. I thought everyone would wear green! Over the course of the day, I some some classy green: hats, scarves, green patent leather doc martens. One girl really nailed it down: emerald skinny jeans, white blouse with green flowers. Chic, right shades, not in your face. This was in contrast with the obnoxious stuff, on the mild end green t-shirts that read things like "Kiss me, my friends are Irish!" to the full out huge green leprechaun hats, shamrock tattoos, fake orange beards on women, tiny green skirts, green garter belts, huge green sunglasses, etc. Not warm enough for these outfits, people! So glad we get a break from the holidays that are just around for drinking!
I just made two big discoveries. One is that you can change the color of text!! Maybe I'll start using a classification system; pink for things about kids, blue for drunk people, orange whenever someone recognized Twin Peaks, etc. The other big discovery is the "Compose" tab. The other option, and default, is "Edit Html" where you type, but I hate the font. All this time, I could have put it in "Compose" mode and have a beautiful font and actually see the bold rather than seeing the html coding for bold! Hallelujah!
Now that I've lost your attention, we'll start the many, many numbered items that this post has to offer.
Part I: Farmer's Market, 11:00-1:30.Got an "early start" today, which just means getting there before noon. I meant to get there by ten to maximize my children time! My special porridge takes a while in the mornings, though, so I must get up earlier. When I arrived at the market, I saw a long table fully set with linens and wine glasses where I usually set up. It turns out Falko, the Konditormeister next to my old flat, was doing a brunch thing. Hmm. Better not be a regular thing! Had a nice chat with the Big Issue lady, whose name is Kat. She's so nice, I really wish I could understand a word she says!! I picked up that there was a band at the other end, but I went to check anyway in case she had actually said, "My fluffy kitty had a horrible hairball this morning" or something. 'Twer no other bands! Not in the middle, not at the other end. Set up at the far end, which is actually better than my normal end. No wonder more people set up there, accordion to George the venizon vendor. (Okay, accidentally typing "accordion" instead of "according" is okay, but turning "venison" into "Verizon" is NOT.) This end stayed sunny longer. It's directly in front of the castle, so you have an amazing backdrop. It's next to the tables, so you get eaters listening. It's going to be tough moving back, but I promised George I wouldn't leave that end! Heeeeeere's what happened:
1. A young woman came over and turned her wallet upside above my box, thus dumping all of the coins in! She had obviously gone through and left just what she planned to donate, but it was still pretty epic.
2. Started "Dynamite," and a minute later I heard a loud laugh from someone who had walked by a while ago who finally recognized it. Not that interesting on paper, but amusing at the time.
3. "Women liked Flaca." Yes they did! Two middle-aged women. I think I write down stuff like this in case nothing else interesting happens so I'll have something to blog about.
4. Two young women wearing green scarves sat on a bench and listened to me for a while. They came over to talk after, and they had already heard me talking to others and placed my accent. It turns out one is from greater San Francisco and one is from greater Toronto (not Totoro, fingers!). They're here studying Outdoor Education. Nice talk about student loans and such.
6. A young woman was sitting and heard several songs. When she tipped me, she complimented my song choices. Yeah! It's rare for me to have people hear enough songs to figure out the variety of my repertoire, so it makes me happy when someone does.
7. There were a lot of people filming! I'll go out of order and write about them all now, while it's relevant.
7a. Young woman with a long fish tail. Remember those from those books of fancy hairdos we had as little girls? She was the main talker, but her friend had a camera. Her other friend had an iPhone on a special frame. They filmed Flaca and me, mostly Flaca. After a very long time, one exclaimed, "Whoa, you have matching skirts!" Duh! And sweaters and shoes and hairdos! She continued..."But you'll have to dye your hair black." Okay. "And have a red nose." Best quit while you're ahead..."And have dark skin." Oy. Orrrr I could embrace my fair Belgian heritage and Flaca could embrace her Mexican heritage? Oh, but the fish tail girl asked me to do Twin Peaks again for the camera! She's my first female TP recognizer!
7b. Two other young people were out with a fancy camera and tripod. I became aware of them while playing "Morir Soñando," clearly heard the background, and tried to subtly switch to "Flower of Scotland" to fit their theme. It turns out, they're making a video for a travel company, and ask passersby to describe Edinburgh in one word. I'm not one for stopping at one word (which is probably why you're not going to make it to the end of this post), so I told them all about how I love that I can see the lit-up castle from my bedroom window, blah blah blah. Finally settled on "Magical" then cringed at the cliché. Ah, well. They probably won't use me anyway.
7c. An older couple had a fancy camera on a tripod as well, and they set up to get a panorama of the market, the castle, and me! This time I was ready and played all my new Scottish songs. It turns out they're making a video to use to promote a vacation rental. I would DEFINITELY rent their property after seeing the cute little market, castle, and accordion player! (Why does everything sound sarcastic tonight? That was also a serious comment.)
8. An adorable little girl kept running over. Wouldn't talk to me or acknowledge Flaca or anything, but just beamed. Beamed and danced. Children smiling alone could be a kind of therapy. Extra contagious!
9. Super nice couple. The woman asked if she could get me tea or coffee. I was set up right next to this adorable red espresso box, and I had been considering buying myself a hot chocolate. Since I had my heart set on it I went for the gold and asked for hot chocolate. Ugh, beggars can't be choosers, I felt bad about that for a while. She got me a hot chocolate, which immediately brought relief when my freezing hands wrapped around it. The first sip warms your whole soul. Mmmmm. Talked to them a bit after, and they asked if I'm a puppeteer as well. I can't quite claim that title, but I told them about my plans for Flaca. The man nonchalantly mentioned the woman's accordion, so we talked about that. She has a little one too! These slow interactions are so nice. So many people say things as they pass, but I'm wrapped up in the music and can't understand them, etc., that they fulfill blog and income requirements, but not social requirements. Others go on and on. This was the perfect length.
10. A young man asked where I'm from. I told him, and he nodded. Obviously I gave him the answer he suspected. I asked him what gave it away, and he pointed out the Let's Go Europe book upon which Flaca sits. Aha! It's the thickest book I have, which is why it comes. Hadn't even thought about the homeland expository implications of it! Excellent detective work, guy.
11. Adorable little girl peered from afar. Made unbreakable eye contact, like Snape performing the counterhex at Quirrell from the Quidditch bleachers (sorry, couldn't resist). We played some impromptu peekaboo when grown-ups stood in our line of vision. She had blonde braids and held a baby doll. She was given a coin to put in my box, and scurried over, dumped it, and scurried away. Hey! Then she was given another, and came back. As she tried to scurried away, I yelled after her that she should come meet MY baby! (Sorry Flaca, not a baby.) She came back but would not talk. I come to expect that. I pointed out that I have braids, Flaca has braids, and she has braids! Not interested. I showed her Flaca, showed her the moves she can do and asked if she wanted to try, extending the wooden frame. She extended one finger and touched the frame, then withdrew it. I did Flaca instead with my right hand, and just played chords on my left hand. Booooring. Switched hands and played just a melody on the right hand, which sounded so empty, and I was at the mercy of gravity operating the bellows. Sure enough, it lost momentum and the sound faded. I've got to get my pulleys worked out! I suggested that her baby might want to dance, so she held the baby by its collar in midair and lightly shook it. We'll work on that.
12. An older woman with purple mary-janes stopped and said she had to decide which box to put my tip in. She fairly said that she wanted to see Flaca dance before she chose. How fair!
13. A kid in all pink arrived via stroller. She held a coin in her left hand. The dad pushed the stroller so the kid's right side was lined up with my box, took the coin from her left hand, and put it in her right hand, then instructed her to drop it. They lingered for a minute and I picked up Flaca. Gave her a shake, extended her, the dad took a turn while I played. Passed her to the kid, who totally cried out and hid. Oops.
14. Met an American UMass Amherst alum who now lives in Edinburgh with her hubby and adorable son!
15. Group of like five guys with cameras stopped. Every single one wanted a picture with me. Had to stop playing for a while. Fine...if they had tipped! Argh. It seems so obvious to me how rude it is to not tip, especially when you take up that much time!
16. Grew fond from afar of this toddler in puffy blue and green checkered overalls and her mom. Not to categorize, but they're totally "Valley folk." To tip, the mom held the kid up and she dropped change from high up. "Oops, look like you got some dribble too!" Well that's a new tip!
17. Ran into Marco and his girlfriend whose name escapes me (sorry!) who I met the other night. Friends of my flatmates. Italian and French! Marco is doing his thesis on agriculture, and was at the market to interview farmers. His girlfriend wore the same awesome earrings she wore the other night, with colorful beads that remind me so much of this amazing toy that Molly Daniell had as a kid.
18. Talked to two young men, one of which I recognized from having met at the Stockbridge market. They're trying to start a market at their school, and wondered if I'd come play this week at like the big pitch/presentation day. I wondered how they were going to get away with holding a market during school hours. I pinned them at about 15. "Great, have you been in Edinburgh University?" These college kids look younger and younger!
19. My final FM "customer" was an old lady who noticed Flaca. Picked her up, but disclaimed that "I can't dance so I won't be able to make her dance well!" This woman's grandfather played the accordion. She never met him, but has an image of him playing in her head. We talked about loans, and she said that when she was my age, a long time ago, she got a grant (grrr-aunt) to study to be a teacher, and that was that. At that time, she questioned the financial logistics of all these people being educated for free or cheap, but was far ahead of her time with that preposterous idea. Whenever she mentioned it, folks ranted about how education was their right. She was not surprised when time passed and tuition grew and grew! Do they have the phrase "I told ye so" over here?
When I packed up, I went to talk to the produce vendor nearest to me to apologize. I was playing especially badly, and I was also trying out new songs. Oh, I should mention that! I've been practicing hard all week for this party, and my 13 "official" new songs are:
-[Jazz Classics] "All Of Me," "The Way You Look Tonight," "I Love Paris"
-[Showtunes/Lighthearted Classics] "A Bushel and a Peck," "Wouldn't It Be Loverly?" "My Old Man's a Dustman," "Somewhere Over the Rainbow*," "If I Only Had a Brain*"
-[Traditional Scottish/UK] "Wild Mountain Thyme," "Loch Lomond," "The Skye Boat Song," "Flower of Scotland," and "O Danny Boy." Other songs I've decided to wing include "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree," "Ba Mir Bist Du Schoen," and "I Could Have Danced All Night*."
*=previously dabbled
Anyway, the first half of the FM set was pretty weak. The produce guy was super nice though, and said that he recognized some songs: Queen, Flower of Scotland, Lady Gaga. The vendor in the next stall over piped up, saying he recognized "I Could Have Danced All Night." Funny, I only played all of these once! Maybe Don't Stop Me Now twice. They insisted that I did not bother them, and that I'm welcome back at that end any time. Nice to hear.
Note: When my brother and I are together and in silly/musical moods, we work on the "Larry Musical." We've created this character Larry, the fat, drunk, smelly, adult male orphan in Annie's orphanage (that's how he came to be). He sings many songs, like "How Do You Cure a Case of Gonorrhea?" and "I Feel Shitty," but his big hit is "I Would Have Barfed All Night." It's so hard not to think of those words instead of the real ones when playing this one!! One of these days I'm going to sing along and confuse a child. "I would have spreeeeead my lips, and barfed a tonnnn of chips, I'd had the night befoooore." Anyway, moving on.
Time for break! Went to the museum where I had my packed lunch among good company. This time, three other parties had the same idea as me. One exhibited painfully bad parenting. Their poor little girl in her harness was having a bad day, and surprisingly wasn't calmed by having Pringles stuffed into her mouth. The good thing about using the Let's Go Europe book for Flaca's setup is that I can read it during my breaks! Read a lot of the UK section. I really have to start traveling. In the bathroom, a verbal toddler was lying on the changing table, conversing with his wipe-using mother. "Stop!" Mom knew what he meant: the loud hand-dryer had turned off. "Yes, dear, it has stopped!" This happened several more times. After one, the mother calmly said, in a strong Scottish accent, "It has stopped but it might start up again in a wee minute!" I loved that line, in her accent!
Brings us to...
Part II: Royal Mile, 3:30-8:30, minus 15-minute break.Did the usual stroll down the RM from Victoria St., cursing every busker who took MY pitch. No Dieter today, but there was a bagpiper. And William Wallace Caveman guy. Charlie Chaplin. Right next to CC was a duo of guitar and uke. Broke sooo many busking rules, both official and not: within 50 metres of another busker, obviously drinking beer, seated (not a real rule, but less lucrative). Todd was out with his crowd. I'm used to striking out on spots until I get to the corner of Cockburn next to Bella Italia. But today, there was a guy sitting against the wall, looking totally relaxed, with a drum sort of near him and a hat on his lap for money. Come on, THIS is why I can't use that spot? I asked him how long he was planning on using that pitch, trying to hide my undertones of superiority. He said another hour. Of course, he responded to my coolth and conceit with total friendliness, and asked what I play. "Accordion." "Oh, we could do something together!" NO THANKS. I mumbled something about "Yeah, maybe, I'm just going to take a break and then...see ya!" I really need to just learn to say, "Oh, that's so nice, but I'm a solo act! I get totally thrown off by other musicians!" Went one more block down and set up across from Niddry St. on that corner. Significantly worse. Going to hold it against that friendly drummer forEVER. Got my spot back after a break, around 5:00.
1. As I was setting up in this inferior pitch, a man said a lot in a heavy accent! The only word I understood was "accordion." Wasn't unpacked enough for him to see it, which means he'd seen me before. Excellent. The next sentence involved the word "catch," and the following one contained "bagpipe." Oh, he was going to throw me a pound from where he was on the corner. I did not catch it. Nice way to stat a set!
2. "Nice man, sourdough" say my notes. This was a long conversation, should have noted more. Let's see if it comes back. Middle-aged man. We determined I'm from America. He's been to Boston, maybe? He's definitely been to California. Enjoyed having chowder served in bread bowls. Specifically sourdough. I told him I ate my weight in sushi and burritos in San Francisco. It turns out that was irrelevant to the conversation. "Anyway, about sourdough..." I bragged that we have chowder in bread bowls in Massachusetts too. "But is it sourdough?" "Oh, definitely!" "Are there a lot of Dutch there? They brought over the sourdough." "Yep. 100% Dutch." See, I don't back down easily. Facts shmacts. He was really nice though, and we definitely talked about loans. All these conversations run into each other, and I can't remember! Too bad.
3. Teenage girls with accents (as in not native English speakers). One said "It's very good!" But I was just unpacking after my break, and they hadn't seen me do anything!
4. As I was walking back from my break, I saw a real bride! And groom! Not stupid hen party! They walked gracefully down the Royal Mile. As soon as the packs of drunk St. Patty's day celebrators saw them, they starting cheering them, and whoops and hollers erupted from all sides of the street. I tried to run ahead of them to set up in time to play "Here Comes the Bride," but that was not possible.
5. There was a hen party later, and I played the song. It's so weird, every time I've played it here I get an adrenaline rush! Come on, nervous system, I don't need fight nor flight in this situation! Not a threat! It really messes me up for a while, I get shaky and lightheaded and unable to control my facial expressions (not in a really weird way, I'm just not able to put on a fake smile). It just looks like Sascha Baron Cohen's smile in "Hugo."
6. There was also a woman wearing a sash. Got ready to play "Here Comes the Bride" when I looked closer and saw the number 40 on it. I guessed again and played "Happy Birthday." Yep.
7. On the heels of that I had another victory: one of the birthday woman's friends asked me how to get to Whistlebinkies, the bar (also one of my favorite things to be uttered by my Spanish roommates. Try saying it in a Spanish accent!). You know you're a local when A) you can use the currency without reading it for numbers and B) you can give directions. I nailed down the currency pretty quickly, since I sort through my takings, but today was the first time I gave directions! It didn't hurt that my sucky first pitch was right across from the bar in question.
8. There were freaking Yankees hats everywhere!!! It was really outrageous how many there were. Normally I see an average of 0.41 on a given day. I saw at least a dozen today, probably more. Black on black. White on red. Classic white on blue. Blue on white. All ugly on ugly!!! I could have kissed the random foreigner who happened to be wearing a Kansas City hat instead.
9. A man walked by and did a gesture with his hand and mouth. Either he thought I should smile bigger or he plays the jaw harp.
10. Three girls walked by decked out as princesses. Headdresses, tutus, glittery tights, party shoes, the works. I asked the occasion, and it was a birthday! Played Happy Birthday for the second time that day. I miss the days of birthday parties and party dresses!
11. A college-aged young man lingered for a second organizing change. When he approached me, he lowered a small pizza box. Yesssss!!!!! Turns out, it was just a surface. He slid coins off it into my box. Come on, money when it could be pizza?
12. A guy tipped me and commented, "I have money this time!" This implies that we'd seen each other before, and he had addressed not having money the previous time. Unfortunately, "guy stopped by, didn't have money" would be a super boring blog entry, so I didn't mark it, and anything I don't mention in the blog I forget immediately. So I didn't recognize him, but we had a nice talk. Shane from Ontario. Made me realize that I'm long overdue for a Canada trip. Went when I was 5, 10, and 15. Sooo many relatives need visiting! Unforch I forget what Shane and I talked about.
13. Oh, the sourdough guy suggested that I stop someone who walks by with Irish themed face paint and ask them to apply me some as well. Finally, a guy stopped by with Irish flags on his cheeks, I asked him if he has the actual face paint with him, and we had some communication issues. Turns out he was adorned not with two Irish flags, but with one Irish and one Italian. And he's French! Go figure.
14. Sooo excited to see that "Ragamuffin" is the next note in my post. So far, nothing has moved me enough to bold it, but this merits it. A couple of young (college aged) guys stopped by in Irish garb and face paint. The first asked if I could play a song called "[Someone that starts with an S] is a Wanker." I said I didn't know it. He offered me £5 if I could play it. Sorry, that doesn't jog my memory. ("Oh, this gate key?") The second one stepped in, and asked if I could simply repeatedly sing the word "Ragamuffin" any way I wanted. This is a great reason to drink on the job; my rendition would have been much more creative had I a whisky or two in me. I rose to the occasion anyhow, and sang a simple version of "Ragamuffin ragamuffin ragamuffin" on C, F, C, G. They cheered, tipped, and ran off, where they met up with their other friends across the street, yelling "Ragamuffin" all the while. It's things like this that I looooove about busking! Harmless, silly, and convention-challenging (spoken like a true Clarkie).
15. Switching the order of my notes, since the next thing is bold-worthy too! Can't have bold next to bold! Three women stopped, and posed for pics with me. The older one (Mom?) gave me her business card for a hotel, and pointed out where it gave the address, in Colombia. I took this as an invitation to speak Spanish, and we had a brief tertulia! I mentioned that a close, personal confidante of mine (someone I overlapped with in high school) had gone to Colombia to study accordion. I told them that my first Spanish teacher was from Colombia. True story. Tried to lighten up on my lithp picked up during my Erasmus in España.
16. Now...Two old ladies stopped. Watched, listened, didn't adopt any facial expressions. Shit, they're assuming the worst connotations of "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox." They slowly started walking away, but one of them stopped in her tracks, gave her friend the "just a second" index finger, and jumped into an Elvis pose and started strumming her air-guitar. Part two was more of a tap dance, with her arms in the air. Then she winked and gave me a smile and thumbs up and caught up with her friend. :)
17. "That's for Twin Peaks." Still baffled by its popularity!!
18. On Saturday nights, once it gets dark, I always see a group of men holding yellow signs that promote John 3:7. Today, another man sauntered up on his motorcycle, and one sign-holder playfully whacked the motorcyclist with it, as if to knock him off. They all guffawed. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't using such a sign as a weapon, albeit playfully, totally sacrilegious?? I just Googled "John 3:7," and learned of its association with Irish sports. Rugby. So these guys are sports nuts, not religious nuts? Here's the Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_3:7_%28sign%29 Huh.
19. Califlorida. A woman and her daughter stopped, and the woman read aloud "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox!" in an unmistakable American accent. As we conversed she picked up on mine as well. I asked where they're from, and she said they live in Florida now, but she's from Cali.....[in decisive tone, to answer my initial question] Califlorida." The daughter had just gotten into U of F, so they're here for vacation and to celebrate, I guess, for ten days.
20. I looked up mid-song and who should I see but Gabriele, my Italian flatmate, with his girlfriend (??)! Very nice to see "family." I was also glad that he saw me in action, and can picture my act now. Only one of my four previous flatmates every saw me busk. Next time I'll have to get him to sing; he gave us a beautiful shower performance last night!
21. I kept practicing my new songs, including "The Way You Look Tonight." When I was in the middle of the bridge, a middle-aged man who I guess had walked by a minute before started singing along, but totally at the wrong part of the song! I tried to pick up where he was, but I don't know it well enough yet to pull that off.
22. More bold! But long, so I won't bold the whole text: this may not be interesting to you, but I just loved it. Remember the strange guy from last weekend who was either mentally disabled or mega drunk? Welll he came back......completely normal and sociable! "Hi, I think I may have come by one day when I was really drunk?" I couldn't help but laugh, and confirmed this, explaining my hesitation with his diagnosis. He said that he didn't even remember, but when he walked up Cockburn and saw me at the same corner, he was struck by a fuzzy memory. Totally owned up to it, was very apologetic, and was eager to piece together our strange interaction. Our recap went on way longer than I normally strive for in interruptions, but that was the way I wanted it, this apparently trumps all other conversations I have. He remembered Flaca, and I told him what he did. Also told him that he stumbled over to some girls sitting outside Starbucks, and he looked abashed and asked if they ran away. I showed him my notes on him from the previous week, which read: "weird drunk/retarded guy! £15 for Flaca--not moving much." This time, he totally won me over. The fact that he was apologetic and embarrassed but also curious suited him well, and he was so easy to talk to! I liked this interaction so much because it set the record straight. I have sooo many weirdos accounted for in my blog, but few are recurring, and none before this guy have redeemed themselves! I learned that his name, at last, is Jamie. I say "at last" as a fan of the popular Outlander books of which I've only read the first. Do you know them? The premise is that a modern woman finds a time portal and gets whisked to the mid-18th century. She meets a tall, red-haired, fearless, sexy warrior named Jamie, and they fall madly in love. I had actually sort of forgotten about these books when I made plans to come here, but my friend Molly, who turned me onto the books when we were far too young for them (honestly, I think I still am), responded to my announcement of coming here by instructing me to say hello to Claire and Jamie from her. Oh yeah! Since that, I've been wanting to meet a Jamie. And here one is! This Jamie doesn't perfectly fit the description, but I was still happy to hear the name.
The topic of conversation changed to Flaca and my plans for her pulley system. Jamie was all for it, and told me about a guy he had seen in Inverness with a whole one-man band setup. He had configured the whole thing, and it was totally unique. Jamie revealed that he's been staying at hostels, so we commiserated over the showers at the hostel I had stayed at where you have to keep pushing the button. As soon as he arrived, he dashed off! I had so many more things I wanted to ask him! I was strangely interested in hearing his story; why he's hostel-hopping, why he was wasted in the middle of the afternoon not on St. Patty's day, etc. Maybe I'll see him next Saturday, or maybe he'll live on only in my blog.
23. My goal for the evening was to partake in a semi-rowdy sing-along of "Whiskey in the Jar." In past years, I've made my friends unenthusiastically sing verse after verse along with my one-notch-below-mediocre guitar playing, and that doesn't make the cut! Try to imagine a scowling group of dainty women monotonously singing, "I first produced my pistol. And I then produced my rapier. Said 'Stand and deliver' for he were a bold deceiver." Not right unless there's hugging, rolled Rs and whiskey breath involved. I thought my chances of a more satisfactory rendition were good this year, being closer to Ireland than ever. What I got wasn't perfect, but did the job. A small group recognized it, and the biggest guy came right next to me to sing. We did different words, which was fine, except he didn't even say "Whiskey in the Jar!" THOSE words can't be different! Started with a T. Maybe there's an alternate version?
Sorry, all that's left in my notes will be really long!! I'll try to do a couple quick ones.
24. Member of a non-English speaking group asked to pose for a picture. And he asked if he could put his arm around me for the photo. How respectful! I asked where they're from, and they said Turkey. I decided to impress them with my Turkish. "Günaydin," I attempted to exclaim. There were two problems: I have a really hard time, physically, getting that word out. At times I'm afflicted with a stutter, which comes on certain letters and when I'm anticipating what I'm going to say. The "Gy" combo has always gotten me, which is used in such words as, um, "Günaydin," and the list goes on. I finally got it out, after which we can address the second problem: it means "Good morning," at it was about 8:00 pm. I tried again, with "Iyi geceler," which does mean Good Night. Started singing "Küçük Kurbağa," the song about the little frog. (By the way, I'm googling all of these crazy spellings. Definitely don't have them memorized!) Isn't that so obnoxious when someone spits out random words, mispronounced, in your native language? Let's see how many other languages I can do it in!!! (In case you're wondering, I had Turkish campers back in my camp counselor days, so you pick up important phrases like "Good morning," "Good night," and "Little frog, little frog, where is your tail? I haven't got, I haven't got, I swim in the pond.") Also, if I recall correctly, the phonetic pronunciation for the word for "insect" sounds like "snake." Equally unpopular among campers! Oops, that was supposed to be a quick entry.
25. Man stopped. Picked up Flaca. Asked for a wee polka. There was one he wanted, black something, but I told him I could only do Beer Barrel. Then also made lame excuses in advance about the fact that I was wearing gloves. I played, Flaca danced. After, he dropped a pound in the box and explained "A pound for the polka..." and dropped another: "And a pound for the gloves!" Oh, awesome. Davey told me that he has an accordion in the cupboard. It's too hard to learn, he says. It's a diatonic button accordion so he's right: it is too hard.
26. Met Scott from Arizona. He wore a U. of Arizona sweatshirt, and was easily recognizable as an American! Nice guy, we talked a bunch. He worked in casinos, but was fired for missing too much work when he had four surgeries in three months. He decided to go back to school, and now he's here on spring break. We talked about school and loans and CATS! Prompted by Ruby painted on my box. He had a cat that had to start taking thyroid medication, then died of cancer. Just like my Gracie, except that was kidney failure. I'll spare you the details. We also talked a bit about ancestry, since Scott is from the east coast. He thought he was always from Philly, but tracked back many generations and found that he had an aunt (?) who was hanged in the Salem Witch Trials! Eeeee! Also, way way back he's the descendent of a King of Scotland. Good choice of vacation spot, then.
27. Last one. I don't dare admit what time it is here. Verrry unlike me to be up this late anymore, but I really wanted to get this post done, and they really take forever!! Not sure if it's going to show you the posting time in local time or GMT, but I wish I had turned off the clock feature hours ago so I don't have to know. Doing this for art, right? I could write about this last person for 2874182 hours, but I'll try to keep it succinct. Also have to be aware of confidentiality. Anyway, met a man at a café. Also American, born in Edinburgh, bred in Arizona, settled in Portland, Oregon. I'm not sure exactly what I'm permitted to say, but he's affiliated with Wikileaks. He does a lot of media stuff for the Occupy movement. He wanted to film me for a project as an example of one of the 99%. Playing back student loans. He came out tonight and filmed a bunch, which I'm looking forward to putting on my Youtube channel, since my current videos are just at home and boooooring. No passersby. You can see for yourself my inability to say "thank you" while playing. Actually, I can't bear to type more tonight, so I'll quit there.
28. Oh, but one more latenight, tired observation: coins are so nice! To count, I put them in rows of £5, mixing up the values at random. When it's all done, you have a nice grid of stacks of coins of varying heights. It's sort of artistic in a way, like a topographic map showing elevation. Stacks contain either 1 coin (£1 or £2), two coins (50p), five coins (20p), ten coins (10p), 20 coins (5p), or a million coins (2p and 1p). It's nice to squint and admire the mess of medal. Especially nice if there are no light bulbs in the living room so you're sorting by candle light :)
One more thing about nice coins: it's so satisfying depositing a whole stack of coins into a little bag. Especially the stacks of ten 10p coins, they're such a nice size. You really hear the whirr of each coin hitting the previous one, and it sounds EXACTLY like when you earn lots of coins in Super Mario World 2 (oh yeah, we had a Gameboy. With TWO games!). You know, when you earn a bunch of coins and it shows them going into your head and it makes that nice clinky whirring sound? Well I totally recreated that tonight.
Bedtime. Hopefully I haven't sacrificed my ability to play at the party tomorrow by staying up this late. The birds are already chirping...
Saturday, 17 March 2012: ST. PATRICK'S DAY.
Today was St. Patrick's Day! Beauuutiful sunny day! Never before have I put in so little planning. Last year I practiced Irish songs and bought tacky green plastic light-up shamrock earrings at Walgreens. The year before I wasn't a busker, but rather a student. I brought knock-off Baileys to a cappella rehearsal. The year before that I was in Spain, and complained about the drunk Americans being drunken fools. Even that takes planning. This year, I did no prep because I've been prepping for the big party tomorrow! I could have gone to my old flat last night to borrow green clothes, but opted instead to stay in and practice practice practice my new songs. The only thing I did was arrange my many sweaters so the green one was on top, rather than the purple to match Flaca. There is one (two) Irish song (s) in my regular repertoire: a medley of the obscure "Eleanor Neary's/The Miller of Drohan." In the section of my set list that is songs that aren't in the starting rotation but I sometimes play when I'm super sick of the other songs, there's "Tabhair Dom Do Lamh," "The Lowlands of Holland," "The Wild Rover," and "The Leaving of Liverpool." I played all of them today, plus "The Spanish Lady," the one that's called either "Miss Molly Malone," "In Dublin's Fair City," or "Cockles and Mussels," and of course "Whiskey in the Jar." Most of this was in vain. Early in the day, I was surprised by the lack of celebrators. I thought everyone would wear green! Over the course of the day, I some some classy green: hats, scarves, green patent leather doc martens. One girl really nailed it down: emerald skinny jeans, white blouse with green flowers. Chic, right shades, not in your face. This was in contrast with the obnoxious stuff, on the mild end green t-shirts that read things like "Kiss me, my friends are Irish!" to the full out huge green leprechaun hats, shamrock tattoos, fake orange beards on women, tiny green skirts, green garter belts, huge green sunglasses, etc. Not warm enough for these outfits, people! So glad we get a break from the holidays that are just around for drinking!
I just made two big discoveries. One is that you can change the color of text!! Maybe I'll start using a classification system; pink for things about kids, blue for drunk people, orange whenever someone recognized Twin Peaks, etc. The other big discovery is the "Compose" tab. The other option, and default, is "Edit Html" where you type, but I hate the font. All this time, I could have put it in "Compose" mode and have a beautiful font and actually see the bold rather than seeing the html coding for bold! Hallelujah!
Now that I've lost your attention, we'll start the many, many numbered items that this post has to offer.
Part I: Farmer's Market, 11:00-1:30.Got an "early start" today, which just means getting there before noon. I meant to get there by ten to maximize my children time! My special porridge takes a while in the mornings, though, so I must get up earlier. When I arrived at the market, I saw a long table fully set with linens and wine glasses where I usually set up. It turns out Falko, the Konditormeister next to my old flat, was doing a brunch thing. Hmm. Better not be a regular thing! Had a nice chat with the Big Issue lady, whose name is Kat. She's so nice, I really wish I could understand a word she says!! I picked up that there was a band at the other end, but I went to check anyway in case she had actually said, "My fluffy kitty had a horrible hairball this morning" or something. 'Twer no other bands! Not in the middle, not at the other end. Set up at the far end, which is actually better than my normal end. No wonder more people set up there, accordion to George the venizon vendor. (Okay, accidentally typing "accordion" instead of "according" is okay, but turning "venison" into "Verizon" is NOT.) This end stayed sunny longer. It's directly in front of the castle, so you have an amazing backdrop. It's next to the tables, so you get eaters listening. It's going to be tough moving back, but I promised George I wouldn't leave that end! Heeeeeere's what happened:
1. A young woman came over and turned her wallet upside above my box, thus dumping all of the coins in! She had obviously gone through and left just what she planned to donate, but it was still pretty epic.
2. Started "Dynamite," and a minute later I heard a loud laugh from someone who had walked by a while ago who finally recognized it. Not that interesting on paper, but amusing at the time.
3. "Women liked Flaca." Yes they did! Two middle-aged women. I think I write down stuff like this in case nothing else interesting happens so I'll have something to blog about.
4. Two young women wearing green scarves sat on a bench and listened to me for a while. They came over to talk after, and they had already heard me talking to others and placed my accent. It turns out one is from greater San Francisco and one is from greater Toronto (not Totoro, fingers!). They're here studying Outdoor Education. Nice talk about student loans and such.
6. A young woman was sitting and heard several songs. When she tipped me, she complimented my song choices. Yeah! It's rare for me to have people hear enough songs to figure out the variety of my repertoire, so it makes me happy when someone does.
7. There were a lot of people filming! I'll go out of order and write about them all now, while it's relevant.
7a. Young woman with a long fish tail. Remember those from those books of fancy hairdos we had as little girls? She was the main talker, but her friend had a camera. Her other friend had an iPhone on a special frame. They filmed Flaca and me, mostly Flaca. After a very long time, one exclaimed, "Whoa, you have matching skirts!" Duh! And sweaters and shoes and hairdos! She continued..."But you'll have to dye your hair black." Okay. "And have a red nose." Best quit while you're ahead..."And have dark skin." Oy. Orrrr I could embrace my fair Belgian heritage and Flaca could embrace her Mexican heritage? Oh, but the fish tail girl asked me to do Twin Peaks again for the camera! She's my first female TP recognizer!
7b. Two other young people were out with a fancy camera and tripod. I became aware of them while playing "Morir Soñando," clearly heard the background, and tried to subtly switch to "Flower of Scotland" to fit their theme. It turns out, they're making a video for a travel company, and ask passersby to describe Edinburgh in one word. I'm not one for stopping at one word (which is probably why you're not going to make it to the end of this post), so I told them all about how I love that I can see the lit-up castle from my bedroom window, blah blah blah. Finally settled on "Magical" then cringed at the cliché. Ah, well. They probably won't use me anyway.
7c. An older couple had a fancy camera on a tripod as well, and they set up to get a panorama of the market, the castle, and me! This time I was ready and played all my new Scottish songs. It turns out they're making a video to use to promote a vacation rental. I would DEFINITELY rent their property after seeing the cute little market, castle, and accordion player! (Why does everything sound sarcastic tonight? That was also a serious comment.)
8. An adorable little girl kept running over. Wouldn't talk to me or acknowledge Flaca or anything, but just beamed. Beamed and danced. Children smiling alone could be a kind of therapy. Extra contagious!
9. Super nice couple. The woman asked if she could get me tea or coffee. I was set up right next to this adorable red espresso box, and I had been considering buying myself a hot chocolate. Since I had my heart set on it I went for the gold and asked for hot chocolate. Ugh, beggars can't be choosers, I felt bad about that for a while. She got me a hot chocolate, which immediately brought relief when my freezing hands wrapped around it. The first sip warms your whole soul. Mmmmm. Talked to them a bit after, and they asked if I'm a puppeteer as well. I can't quite claim that title, but I told them about my plans for Flaca. The man nonchalantly mentioned the woman's accordion, so we talked about that. She has a little one too! These slow interactions are so nice. So many people say things as they pass, but I'm wrapped up in the music and can't understand them, etc., that they fulfill blog and income requirements, but not social requirements. Others go on and on. This was the perfect length.
10. A young man asked where I'm from. I told him, and he nodded. Obviously I gave him the answer he suspected. I asked him what gave it away, and he pointed out the Let's Go Europe book upon which Flaca sits. Aha! It's the thickest book I have, which is why it comes. Hadn't even thought about the homeland expository implications of it! Excellent detective work, guy.
11. Adorable little girl peered from afar. Made unbreakable eye contact, like Snape performing the counterhex at Quirrell from the Quidditch bleachers (sorry, couldn't resist). We played some impromptu peekaboo when grown-ups stood in our line of vision. She had blonde braids and held a baby doll. She was given a coin to put in my box, and scurried over, dumped it, and scurried away. Hey! Then she was given another, and came back. As she tried to scurried away, I yelled after her that she should come meet MY baby! (Sorry Flaca, not a baby.) She came back but would not talk. I come to expect that. I pointed out that I have braids, Flaca has braids, and she has braids! Not interested. I showed her Flaca, showed her the moves she can do and asked if she wanted to try, extending the wooden frame. She extended one finger and touched the frame, then withdrew it. I did Flaca instead with my right hand, and just played chords on my left hand. Booooring. Switched hands and played just a melody on the right hand, which sounded so empty, and I was at the mercy of gravity operating the bellows. Sure enough, it lost momentum and the sound faded. I've got to get my pulleys worked out! I suggested that her baby might want to dance, so she held the baby by its collar in midair and lightly shook it. We'll work on that.
12. An older woman with purple mary-janes stopped and said she had to decide which box to put my tip in. She fairly said that she wanted to see Flaca dance before she chose. How fair!
13. A kid in all pink arrived via stroller. She held a coin in her left hand. The dad pushed the stroller so the kid's right side was lined up with my box, took the coin from her left hand, and put it in her right hand, then instructed her to drop it. They lingered for a minute and I picked up Flaca. Gave her a shake, extended her, the dad took a turn while I played. Passed her to the kid, who totally cried out and hid. Oops.
14. Met an American UMass Amherst alum who now lives in Edinburgh with her hubby and adorable son!
15. Group of like five guys with cameras stopped. Every single one wanted a picture with me. Had to stop playing for a while. Fine...if they had tipped! Argh. It seems so obvious to me how rude it is to not tip, especially when you take up that much time!
16. Grew fond from afar of this toddler in puffy blue and green checkered overalls and her mom. Not to categorize, but they're totally "Valley folk." To tip, the mom held the kid up and she dropped change from high up. "Oops, look like you got some dribble too!" Well that's a new tip!
17. Ran into Marco and his girlfriend whose name escapes me (sorry!) who I met the other night. Friends of my flatmates. Italian and French! Marco is doing his thesis on agriculture, and was at the market to interview farmers. His girlfriend wore the same awesome earrings she wore the other night, with colorful beads that remind me so much of this amazing toy that Molly Daniell had as a kid.
18. Talked to two young men, one of which I recognized from having met at the Stockbridge market. They're trying to start a market at their school, and wondered if I'd come play this week at like the big pitch/presentation day. I wondered how they were going to get away with holding a market during school hours. I pinned them at about 15. "Great, have you been in Edinburgh University?" These college kids look younger and younger!
19. My final FM "customer" was an old lady who noticed Flaca. Picked her up, but disclaimed that "I can't dance so I won't be able to make her dance well!" This woman's grandfather played the accordion. She never met him, but has an image of him playing in her head. We talked about loans, and she said that when she was my age, a long time ago, she got a grant (grrr-aunt) to study to be a teacher, and that was that. At that time, she questioned the financial logistics of all these people being educated for free or cheap, but was far ahead of her time with that preposterous idea. Whenever she mentioned it, folks ranted about how education was their right. She was not surprised when time passed and tuition grew and grew! Do they have the phrase "I told ye so" over here?
When I packed up, I went to talk to the produce vendor nearest to me to apologize. I was playing especially badly, and I was also trying out new songs. Oh, I should mention that! I've been practicing hard all week for this party, and my 13 "official" new songs are:
-[Jazz Classics] "All Of Me," "The Way You Look Tonight," "I Love Paris"
-[Showtunes/Lighthearted Classics] "A Bushel and a Peck," "Wouldn't It Be Loverly?" "My Old Man's a Dustman," "Somewhere Over the Rainbow*," "If I Only Had a Brain*"
-[Traditional Scottish/UK] "Wild Mountain Thyme," "Loch Lomond," "The Skye Boat Song," "Flower of Scotland," and "O Danny Boy." Other songs I've decided to wing include "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree," "Ba Mir Bist Du Schoen," and "I Could Have Danced All Night*."
*=previously dabbled
Anyway, the first half of the FM set was pretty weak. The produce guy was super nice though, and said that he recognized some songs: Queen, Flower of Scotland, Lady Gaga. The vendor in the next stall over piped up, saying he recognized "I Could Have Danced All Night." Funny, I only played all of these once! Maybe Don't Stop Me Now twice. They insisted that I did not bother them, and that I'm welcome back at that end any time. Nice to hear.
Note: When my brother and I are together and in silly/musical moods, we work on the "Larry Musical." We've created this character Larry, the fat, drunk, smelly, adult male orphan in Annie's orphanage (that's how he came to be). He sings many songs, like "How Do You Cure a Case of Gonorrhea?" and "I Feel Shitty," but his big hit is "I Would Have Barfed All Night." It's so hard not to think of those words instead of the real ones when playing this one!! One of these days I'm going to sing along and confuse a child. "I would have spreeeeead my lips, and barfed a tonnnn of chips, I'd had the night befoooore." Anyway, moving on.
Time for break! Went to the museum where I had my packed lunch among good company. This time, three other parties had the same idea as me. One exhibited painfully bad parenting. Their poor little girl in her harness was having a bad day, and surprisingly wasn't calmed by having Pringles stuffed into her mouth. The good thing about using the Let's Go Europe book for Flaca's setup is that I can read it during my breaks! Read a lot of the UK section. I really have to start traveling. In the bathroom, a verbal toddler was lying on the changing table, conversing with his wipe-using mother. "Stop!" Mom knew what he meant: the loud hand-dryer had turned off. "Yes, dear, it has stopped!" This happened several more times. After one, the mother calmly said, in a strong Scottish accent, "It has stopped but it might start up again in a wee minute!" I loved that line, in her accent!
Brings us to...
Part II: Royal Mile, 3:30-8:30, minus 15-minute break.Did the usual stroll down the RM from Victoria St., cursing every busker who took MY pitch. No Dieter today, but there was a bagpiper. And William Wallace Caveman guy. Charlie Chaplin. Right next to CC was a duo of guitar and uke. Broke sooo many busking rules, both official and not: within 50 metres of another busker, obviously drinking beer, seated (not a real rule, but less lucrative). Todd was out with his crowd. I'm used to striking out on spots until I get to the corner of Cockburn next to Bella Italia. But today, there was a guy sitting against the wall, looking totally relaxed, with a drum sort of near him and a hat on his lap for money. Come on, THIS is why I can't use that spot? I asked him how long he was planning on using that pitch, trying to hide my undertones of superiority. He said another hour. Of course, he responded to my coolth and conceit with total friendliness, and asked what I play. "Accordion." "Oh, we could do something together!" NO THANKS. I mumbled something about "Yeah, maybe, I'm just going to take a break and then...see ya!" I really need to just learn to say, "Oh, that's so nice, but I'm a solo act! I get totally thrown off by other musicians!" Went one more block down and set up across from Niddry St. on that corner. Significantly worse. Going to hold it against that friendly drummer forEVER. Got my spot back after a break, around 5:00.
1. As I was setting up in this inferior pitch, a man said a lot in a heavy accent! The only word I understood was "accordion." Wasn't unpacked enough for him to see it, which means he'd seen me before. Excellent. The next sentence involved the word "catch," and the following one contained "bagpipe." Oh, he was going to throw me a pound from where he was on the corner. I did not catch it. Nice way to stat a set!
2. "Nice man, sourdough" say my notes. This was a long conversation, should have noted more. Let's see if it comes back. Middle-aged man. We determined I'm from America. He's been to Boston, maybe? He's definitely been to California. Enjoyed having chowder served in bread bowls. Specifically sourdough. I told him I ate my weight in sushi and burritos in San Francisco. It turns out that was irrelevant to the conversation. "Anyway, about sourdough..." I bragged that we have chowder in bread bowls in Massachusetts too. "But is it sourdough?" "Oh, definitely!" "Are there a lot of Dutch there? They brought over the sourdough." "Yep. 100% Dutch." See, I don't back down easily. Facts shmacts. He was really nice though, and we definitely talked about loans. All these conversations run into each other, and I can't remember! Too bad.
3. Teenage girls with accents (as in not native English speakers). One said "It's very good!" But I was just unpacking after my break, and they hadn't seen me do anything!
4. As I was walking back from my break, I saw a real bride! And groom! Not stupid hen party! They walked gracefully down the Royal Mile. As soon as the packs of drunk St. Patty's day celebrators saw them, they starting cheering them, and whoops and hollers erupted from all sides of the street. I tried to run ahead of them to set up in time to play "Here Comes the Bride," but that was not possible.
5. There was a hen party later, and I played the song. It's so weird, every time I've played it here I get an adrenaline rush! Come on, nervous system, I don't need fight nor flight in this situation! Not a threat! It really messes me up for a while, I get shaky and lightheaded and unable to control my facial expressions (not in a really weird way, I'm just not able to put on a fake smile). It just looks like Sascha Baron Cohen's smile in "Hugo."
6. There was also a woman wearing a sash. Got ready to play "Here Comes the Bride" when I looked closer and saw the number 40 on it. I guessed again and played "Happy Birthday." Yep.
7. On the heels of that I had another victory: one of the birthday woman's friends asked me how to get to Whistlebinkies, the bar (also one of my favorite things to be uttered by my Spanish roommates. Try saying it in a Spanish accent!). You know you're a local when A) you can use the currency without reading it for numbers and B) you can give directions. I nailed down the currency pretty quickly, since I sort through my takings, but today was the first time I gave directions! It didn't hurt that my sucky first pitch was right across from the bar in question.
8. There were freaking Yankees hats everywhere!!! It was really outrageous how many there were. Normally I see an average of 0.41 on a given day. I saw at least a dozen today, probably more. Black on black. White on red. Classic white on blue. Blue on white. All ugly on ugly!!! I could have kissed the random foreigner who happened to be wearing a Kansas City hat instead.
9. A man walked by and did a gesture with his hand and mouth. Either he thought I should smile bigger or he plays the jaw harp.
10. Three girls walked by decked out as princesses. Headdresses, tutus, glittery tights, party shoes, the works. I asked the occasion, and it was a birthday! Played Happy Birthday for the second time that day. I miss the days of birthday parties and party dresses!
11. A college-aged young man lingered for a second organizing change. When he approached me, he lowered a small pizza box. Yesssss!!!!! Turns out, it was just a surface. He slid coins off it into my box. Come on, money when it could be pizza?
12. A guy tipped me and commented, "I have money this time!" This implies that we'd seen each other before, and he had addressed not having money the previous time. Unfortunately, "guy stopped by, didn't have money" would be a super boring blog entry, so I didn't mark it, and anything I don't mention in the blog I forget immediately. So I didn't recognize him, but we had a nice talk. Shane from Ontario. Made me realize that I'm long overdue for a Canada trip. Went when I was 5, 10, and 15. Sooo many relatives need visiting! Unforch I forget what Shane and I talked about.
13. Oh, the sourdough guy suggested that I stop someone who walks by with Irish themed face paint and ask them to apply me some as well. Finally, a guy stopped by with Irish flags on his cheeks, I asked him if he has the actual face paint with him, and we had some communication issues. Turns out he was adorned not with two Irish flags, but with one Irish and one Italian. And he's French! Go figure.
14. Sooo excited to see that "Ragamuffin" is the next note in my post. So far, nothing has moved me enough to bold it, but this merits it. A couple of young (college aged) guys stopped by in Irish garb and face paint. The first asked if I could play a song called "[Someone that starts with an S] is a Wanker." I said I didn't know it. He offered me £5 if I could play it. Sorry, that doesn't jog my memory. ("Oh, this gate key?") The second one stepped in, and asked if I could simply repeatedly sing the word "Ragamuffin" any way I wanted. This is a great reason to drink on the job; my rendition would have been much more creative had I a whisky or two in me. I rose to the occasion anyhow, and sang a simple version of "Ragamuffin ragamuffin ragamuffin" on C, F, C, G. They cheered, tipped, and ran off, where they met up with their other friends across the street, yelling "Ragamuffin" all the while. It's things like this that I looooove about busking! Harmless, silly, and convention-challenging (spoken like a true Clarkie).
15. Switching the order of my notes, since the next thing is bold-worthy too! Can't have bold next to bold! Three women stopped, and posed for pics with me. The older one (Mom?) gave me her business card for a hotel, and pointed out where it gave the address, in Colombia. I took this as an invitation to speak Spanish, and we had a brief tertulia! I mentioned that a close, personal confidante of mine (someone I overlapped with in high school) had gone to Colombia to study accordion. I told them that my first Spanish teacher was from Colombia. True story. Tried to lighten up on my lithp picked up during my Erasmus in España.
16. Now...Two old ladies stopped. Watched, listened, didn't adopt any facial expressions. Shit, they're assuming the worst connotations of "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox." They slowly started walking away, but one of them stopped in her tracks, gave her friend the "just a second" index finger, and jumped into an Elvis pose and started strumming her air-guitar. Part two was more of a tap dance, with her arms in the air. Then she winked and gave me a smile and thumbs up and caught up with her friend. :)
17. "That's for Twin Peaks." Still baffled by its popularity!!
18. On Saturday nights, once it gets dark, I always see a group of men holding yellow signs that promote John 3:7. Today, another man sauntered up on his motorcycle, and one sign-holder playfully whacked the motorcyclist with it, as if to knock him off. They all guffawed. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't using such a sign as a weapon, albeit playfully, totally sacrilegious?? I just Googled "John 3:7," and learned of its association with Irish sports. Rugby. So these guys are sports nuts, not religious nuts? Here's the Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_3:7_%28sign%29 Huh.
19. Califlorida. A woman and her daughter stopped, and the woman read aloud "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox!" in an unmistakable American accent. As we conversed she picked up on mine as well. I asked where they're from, and she said they live in Florida now, but she's from Cali.....[in decisive tone, to answer my initial question] Califlorida." The daughter had just gotten into U of F, so they're here for vacation and to celebrate, I guess, for ten days.
20. I looked up mid-song and who should I see but Gabriele, my Italian flatmate, with his girlfriend (??)! Very nice to see "family." I was also glad that he saw me in action, and can picture my act now. Only one of my four previous flatmates every saw me busk. Next time I'll have to get him to sing; he gave us a beautiful shower performance last night!
21. I kept practicing my new songs, including "The Way You Look Tonight." When I was in the middle of the bridge, a middle-aged man who I guess had walked by a minute before started singing along, but totally at the wrong part of the song! I tried to pick up where he was, but I don't know it well enough yet to pull that off.
22. More bold! But long, so I won't bold the whole text: this may not be interesting to you, but I just loved it. Remember the strange guy from last weekend who was either mentally disabled or mega drunk? Welll he came back......completely normal and sociable! "Hi, I think I may have come by one day when I was really drunk?" I couldn't help but laugh, and confirmed this, explaining my hesitation with his diagnosis. He said that he didn't even remember, but when he walked up Cockburn and saw me at the same corner, he was struck by a fuzzy memory. Totally owned up to it, was very apologetic, and was eager to piece together our strange interaction. Our recap went on way longer than I normally strive for in interruptions, but that was the way I wanted it, this apparently trumps all other conversations I have. He remembered Flaca, and I told him what he did. Also told him that he stumbled over to some girls sitting outside Starbucks, and he looked abashed and asked if they ran away. I showed him my notes on him from the previous week, which read: "weird drunk/retarded guy! £15 for Flaca--not moving much." This time, he totally won me over. The fact that he was apologetic and embarrassed but also curious suited him well, and he was so easy to talk to! I liked this interaction so much because it set the record straight. I have sooo many weirdos accounted for in my blog, but few are recurring, and none before this guy have redeemed themselves! I learned that his name, at last, is Jamie. I say "at last" as a fan of the popular Outlander books of which I've only read the first. Do you know them? The premise is that a modern woman finds a time portal and gets whisked to the mid-18th century. She meets a tall, red-haired, fearless, sexy warrior named Jamie, and they fall madly in love. I had actually sort of forgotten about these books when I made plans to come here, but my friend Molly, who turned me onto the books when we were far too young for them (honestly, I think I still am), responded to my announcement of coming here by instructing me to say hello to Claire and Jamie from her. Oh yeah! Since that, I've been wanting to meet a Jamie. And here one is! This Jamie doesn't perfectly fit the description, but I was still happy to hear the name.
The topic of conversation changed to Flaca and my plans for her pulley system. Jamie was all for it, and told me about a guy he had seen in Inverness with a whole one-man band setup. He had configured the whole thing, and it was totally unique. Jamie revealed that he's been staying at hostels, so we commiserated over the showers at the hostel I had stayed at where you have to keep pushing the button. As soon as he arrived, he dashed off! I had so many more things I wanted to ask him! I was strangely interested in hearing his story; why he's hostel-hopping, why he was wasted in the middle of the afternoon not on St. Patty's day, etc. Maybe I'll see him next Saturday, or maybe he'll live on only in my blog.
23. My goal for the evening was to partake in a semi-rowdy sing-along of "Whiskey in the Jar." In past years, I've made my friends unenthusiastically sing verse after verse along with my one-notch-below-mediocre guitar playing, and that doesn't make the cut! Try to imagine a scowling group of dainty women monotonously singing, "I first produced my pistol. And I then produced my rapier. Said 'Stand and deliver' for he were a bold deceiver." Not right unless there's hugging, rolled Rs and whiskey breath involved. I thought my chances of a more satisfactory rendition were good this year, being closer to Ireland than ever. What I got wasn't perfect, but did the job. A small group recognized it, and the biggest guy came right next to me to sing. We did different words, which was fine, except he didn't even say "Whiskey in the Jar!" THOSE words can't be different! Started with a T. Maybe there's an alternate version?
Sorry, all that's left in my notes will be really long!! I'll try to do a couple quick ones.
24. Member of a non-English speaking group asked to pose for a picture. And he asked if he could put his arm around me for the photo. How respectful! I asked where they're from, and they said Turkey. I decided to impress them with my Turkish. "Günaydin," I attempted to exclaim. There were two problems: I have a really hard time, physically, getting that word out. At times I'm afflicted with a stutter, which comes on certain letters and when I'm anticipating what I'm going to say. The "Gy" combo has always gotten me, which is used in such words as, um, "Günaydin," and the list goes on. I finally got it out, after which we can address the second problem: it means "Good morning," at it was about 8:00 pm. I tried again, with "Iyi geceler," which does mean Good Night. Started singing "Küçük Kurbağa," the song about the little frog. (By the way, I'm googling all of these crazy spellings. Definitely don't have them memorized!) Isn't that so obnoxious when someone spits out random words, mispronounced, in your native language? Let's see how many other languages I can do it in!!! (In case you're wondering, I had Turkish campers back in my camp counselor days, so you pick up important phrases like "Good morning," "Good night," and "Little frog, little frog, where is your tail? I haven't got, I haven't got, I swim in the pond.") Also, if I recall correctly, the phonetic pronunciation for the word for "insect" sounds like "snake." Equally unpopular among campers! Oops, that was supposed to be a quick entry.
25. Man stopped. Picked up Flaca. Asked for a wee polka. There was one he wanted, black something, but I told him I could only do Beer Barrel. Then also made lame excuses in advance about the fact that I was wearing gloves. I played, Flaca danced. After, he dropped a pound in the box and explained "A pound for the polka..." and dropped another: "And a pound for the gloves!" Oh, awesome. Davey told me that he has an accordion in the cupboard. It's too hard to learn, he says. It's a diatonic button accordion so he's right: it is too hard.
26. Met Scott from Arizona. He wore a U. of Arizona sweatshirt, and was easily recognizable as an American! Nice guy, we talked a bunch. He worked in casinos, but was fired for missing too much work when he had four surgeries in three months. He decided to go back to school, and now he's here on spring break. We talked about school and loans and CATS! Prompted by Ruby painted on my box. He had a cat that had to start taking thyroid medication, then died of cancer. Just like my Gracie, except that was kidney failure. I'll spare you the details. We also talked a bit about ancestry, since Scott is from the east coast. He thought he was always from Philly, but tracked back many generations and found that he had an aunt (?) who was hanged in the Salem Witch Trials! Eeeee! Also, way way back he's the descendent of a King of Scotland. Good choice of vacation spot, then.
27. Last one. I don't dare admit what time it is here. Verrry unlike me to be up this late anymore, but I really wanted to get this post done, and they really take forever!! Not sure if it's going to show you the posting time in local time or GMT, but I wish I had turned off the clock feature hours ago so I don't have to know. Doing this for art, right? I could write about this last person for 2874182 hours, but I'll try to keep it succinct. Also have to be aware of confidentiality. Anyway, met a man at a café. Also American, born in Edinburgh, bred in Arizona, settled in Portland, Oregon. I'm not sure exactly what I'm permitted to say, but he's affiliated with Wikileaks. He does a lot of media stuff for the Occupy movement. He wanted to film me for a project as an example of one of the 99%. Playing back student loans. He came out tonight and filmed a bunch, which I'm looking forward to putting on my Youtube channel, since my current videos are just at home and boooooring. No passersby. You can see for yourself my inability to say "thank you" while playing. Actually, I can't bear to type more tonight, so I'll quit there.
28. Oh, but one more latenight, tired observation: coins are so nice! To count, I put them in rows of £5, mixing up the values at random. When it's all done, you have a nice grid of stacks of coins of varying heights. It's sort of artistic in a way, like a topographic map showing elevation. Stacks contain either 1 coin (£1 or £2), two coins (50p), five coins (20p), ten coins (10p), 20 coins (5p), or a million coins (2p and 1p). It's nice to squint and admire the mess of medal. Especially nice if there are no light bulbs in the living room so you're sorting by candle light :)
One more thing about nice coins: it's so satisfying depositing a whole stack of coins into a little bag. Especially the stacks of ten 10p coins, they're such a nice size. You really hear the whirr of each coin hitting the previous one, and it sounds EXACTLY like when you earn lots of coins in Super Mario World 2 (oh yeah, we had a Gameboy. With TWO games!). You know, when you earn a bunch of coins and it shows them going into your head and it makes that nice clinky whirring sound? Well I totally recreated that tonight.
Bedtime. Hopefully I haven't sacrificed my ability to play at the party tomorrow by staying up this late. The birds are already chirping...
Sunday, March 11, 2012
AAAANDYYYYY!!!!!
Yesterday was my longest day of playing yet over here! Let's do some math: played from about 11:45-1:30, then about 2:45-5:30, then about 7:00-10:00. 1.75 + 2.75 + 3 = 7.5 hours! Phew! Strangely enough, I wasn't really hurtin’. Usually that's a killer on my arms, but they felt fine and feel fine today. I drank a lot of water! There's so much to write about in this post. I'll try to keep it organized.
Prologue: Temperature and Other Factors of Comfort
Yesterday was colder than it has been, but I actually stayed pretty warm. My newest rule is that I have to walk to “work,” because that's key to warming up, and the heat from the walk lasts a while. I'm allowed to take the bus home if I want, although my new flat is in such a good location that it's not really necessary.
I made the mistake of doing laundry on Friday night, and both my pairs of wooly tights were still damp. That left me with just synthetic running-y tights and my new purple tights, purchased for use at band gigs. I did really like the look of purple tights under my piano dress, though, especially since the accordion blocks most of my purple sweater so it's not obvious that Flaca and I match! Might make that a permanent thing. Anyway, my legs were colder than usual, but I was doing okay. When I was in Northampton, Steve, the super nice guitar player who's been there, outside of Faces, for years, advised me to stand on cardboard to keep warm. I guess you lose heat (or gain cold) from the sidewalk through your shoes very rapidly. I used this tip on New Year's Eve, but had forgotten it until my dad mentioned it the other day. When I was walking to my second location I passed an overflowing paper recycle bin with lots of crushed boxes. I grabbed one, and it was a lifesaver! I really did notice my feet staying warmer, and even the tiny bit of padding helped my knees! Thanks again for that, Steve. Oh, and I activated handwarmers right away that ended up not being necessary until it was dark, but they were so warm!! I had the idea to give them to a homeless person when I was done, but I ended up not quitting until late, and they were expired.
There was a little bit of wind, but it didn't seem as bad as Friday, or maybe I was just at a better angle? Flaca fell over a few times, but that was the only consequence. The best part was that there was no rain! My first dry Saturday!
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part I: Farmer's Market
I had a tentative plan to skip the Castle Terrace Farmer's Market this week and instead go to Balerno for its monthly market. One of my choir mums told me about it, and this was the one monthly Saturday on which it was being held. It would have been fun to get out of the city and see a smaller town, but it was risky! The website said that entertainment is provided by "Willy the Busker," and I didn't know if there was room for two. I can't afford to not have a full Saturday of tips coming in, and I didn't want to go all that way and not play!
I stuck with my usual Saturday routine instead. I planned to get there early, like 10:30, and really get the kids. Of course that didn't happen. Once again, I got my spot. New people were working the venison stand, and the stand next to East Coast Organics was empty, weird! Maybe they saw me coming and quickly bolted. There's a lot coming, better get started with the numbered list:
1. Talked to the Big Issue lady. I've mentioned her, right? The Big Issue is a magazine sold by folks who are a bit down on their luck. Not sure if they're all homeless; the red vest the vendors wear has the tagline, "Giving a hand up, not a handout" or something. This particular woman is always at my end of the market. I have a really hard time with her accent! She always greets me when I come, but it's hard to converse! At one point I understood from her that there were other musicians set up in the middle of the market. Didn't catch the words, but inferred from the gestures that went along that it was a stringed instrument played vertically and one played horizontally--maybe the cello and guitar duo that walked by last week? I couldn't hear them, so I assumed I wasn't too close. That's terrible, I haven't been here nearly long enough to get to claim spots like that.
2. After "Let's Stay Together," a guy tipped and said "Cool Al Green!" Yeahh! It's still a new song, and was a hasty arrangement, so I don't really expect to get compliments on it (and I'm too lazy to improve the arrangement).
3. Two men stopped to talk, whom I took to be Caribbean based on their apparel and accents. One asked if I could play anything from "the island," which I heard in the plural, and took to mean the Caribbean islands. I probably shouldn't admit this, but humans' innate lack of figurative colorblindness sometimes leads us to these quick misunderstandings. He meant the British island. Of course. Good thing I didn't play the theme from "Cool Runnings" or something! I quickly recovered (sort of) and said I only know Irish songs so far. He asked if I know anything from Limerick, which I don't. He told me to learn "Danny Boy" for next week! I'm planning on it!
4. The kids were few and far between! The first action Flaca got was from two sisters wearing matching outfits and their dad. That sounds like they were wearing their dad. I played Beer Barrel Polka for Flaca to dance to, and they passed her around perfectly: little girl took the first part, older girl took the second part, and dad took the chorus! Flaca's skirt has been a little loose, and the dance move that the dad orchestrated was a little much for the yarn, and the skirt began sliding down. When the final chord sounded, her skirt was around her knees, exposing her orange legs! I should make her some polka-dotted underwear. It's now double-knotted very tightly.
5. The other kid Flaca met was Oliver, an adorable and curious little boy. He acknowledged Flaca, but wasn't super interested in playing. It's interesting, the kids all go for Flaca's tip box! I guess a doll-sized little box is intriguing! They're also not interesting in shaking it as a percussive devise. Regardless, Oliver gave Flaca a nice kiss. They seemed interested in me as a babysitter as well! Hope to hear from them.
6. An observation: I actually noticed the following the previous Saturday. It took nearly two years of busking to notice the reflection of my tips on my accordion! One can clearly see pretty gold dots in the shiny plastic of the treble side of the accordion! Actually, not surprising since my tips were paper before now. Beautiful nonetheless!
It was generally pretty slow. Flaca was tipped more than I was, I think. Next week I must get out earlier! I packed up a little early. I'm so sick of my songs, and I find that after two play-throughs I need a break just due to boredom. That's usually upwards of two hours, so it's okay to quit. The Chocolate Tree guy was super nice! For some reason I thought he didn't like me, but I stopped by that stand on my way out and asked him if it was close enough to closing time to get £1 hot chocolate. He said no, but said I could have a dark chocolate shot for £1, usually £1.50. I agreed, and swung my accordion around to access my money. I guess he didn't recognize me by the dress, because when he saw the accordion he said, "Oh, for you it'll be 75p." Excellent. I told him I appreciated it, and he said he appreciates me music! Guess I got that one wrong.
Time for some italics to break things up. Sampled some cheese at a stand, said hi to Robbie the porridge vendor, then went to take a break and eat my lunch. I ended up in the National Museum: free entry, lots of space. I found the "group space," equipped with tables and chairs for school trips to have their lunches. Perfect! I snuck in and set up at a back table. A sign stated that it was only for pre-reserved groups, but no one else was in there so I went for it. There was a camera so I ate fast, but I didn't have to. Guess I'm not a threat! I packed a super delicious lunch: baguette sandwich with avocado and nutritional yeast, apple, carrots. Headed to the Royal Mile after for set #2!
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part II: Royal Mile
The usual crowd was out: Dieter in silver, Charlie Chaplin, and Todd with his huge crowd. Today he was in chains. The spot I've been using most often, on the corner of High St. and Cockburn across from what might be the Tron Church, was open, but across from it there was a guy holding a guitar in a case. I was relieved when he said he wasn't about to set up. So I did.
1. A guy gave my setup the once-over and asked what part of America I'm from. How did he know?? He had a heavy Southern accent.
2. One guy walked by and just pointed at Flaca. Yep, there she is!
3. Notes say "accent, learn song, sing." I think this refers to an old Scottish man who suggested I learn a song, but whose accent I couldn't understand. I forget which song it was. I'm going to assume Flower of Scotland, since everyone was asking for it yesterday.
4. Met a man named Guy. He asked where I'm from, I said the US, he asked which part, I said MA, and he asked if it's cold or hot. He also asked for Flower of Scotland. I said I couldn’t do it, and asked what kind of song he wanted instead. He said to play what I wanted, so I just did what was next on the set list: Stevie Wonder's "I Believe...." After, Guy asked if he could tell me something, which I permitted. By the way, he was holding an unopened beer can. He told me that he's been an alcoholic for many years, and that on Thursday he goes away to rehab. He made the call and booked the bed. Starting Thursday, he'll be a new man. I offered him my congratulations. He said that he had £5, and that he was going to go buy two more beers, then he'd come back and give me the remaining pound. I suggested that he get a head start and NOT buy two beers, but his mind was made up. He never came back. Best of luck, Guy.
5. I'm even managing to get sick of Ring of Fire, if you can believe that!! I seriously need some new songs. Anyway, I decided to try to polka-ize RoF a bit. It paid off, because a group walked by and sang along and danced!
6. The wind blew and Flaca fell over. Poor thing, the paint on her nose has chipped off from all the faceplants she's been doing. But this time, for the first time ever, a witness walked over and picked her up for me! Usually I'm mid-song when this happens so I wait until I finish, and people wonder why there's a doll lying on her face on the sidewalk. So nice of that guy!
7. I met Andy! This was a big (very short-lived and insignificant) mystery. That morning, I saw "Andy" in my cell phone contacts. I had nooo idea who it was. I'm not really getting wasted and putting rando’s numbers in my phone these days, so I wondered why I couldn’t remember. A guy came over while I was playing and said, "I think we've been emailing, I'm Dylan's friend." ANDY!!!!!!!* Of course! Dylan is the person who moved out of my old flat, thus opening up my room. He knows Andy, who was looking for an accordion player. Mystery solved!
*The exclamation of "Andy!" always has to be said in Pee-Wee's voice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KydCR2ZLx8
8. Strange interaction. A guy slowly walked over, and it seemed that he was unable to talk. He was pointing to Flaca and gesturing puppetry, and got a few words out. At first I thought he had some special needs. He was generally acting sort of strange. I picked up Flaca and handed her over, and he pretty much just suspended her, not making her move much. I said that her shoes do make a sound on the ground, but he didn't use that information. He said more, I forget what, but I started to suspect that he wasn't learning impaired but rather just drunk. Sure enough, I started to smell whiskey on him. Still not 100% sure though. He thought that I would do really well with Flaca, that I would make 15 quid. He moved on eventually, walking with a little swagger but seemed to keep his balance okay. He went over to the Starbucks across the street where some young women were sitting outside, and sat with them. Oh boy.
9. Some men stopped by, French I think, and asked if I could play the theme from the Simpsons. Good idea! It's super jazzy, so I didn't dare try the left hand, but managed to get out some of the melody. I should learn it!!
10. There was definitely a wedding happening nearby, since people were walking by in fancy clothes. No kilts, though. I waited for the bride, but didn't see her! I was surprised by the lack of hen parties though, being a Saturday. Finally saw one, and they recognized the song but didn't tip!
11. There was one stag party, and the groom posed with me for a picture. I congratulated him on his impending nuptials, and one of his friends said something like, "You haven't met the bride." Poor thing!
12. Right as I was deciding to pack up, a man said, "I don't have money, but I have chocolate." Yess. Nice, dark chocolate.
You've made it two thirds of the way!! Go make some tea, since the last part is the craziest of all. Around 5:30 I was thinking that I could use a warm drink and bathroom break, and considered just getting someone watch my stuff and running to Starbucks across the street. But, a. it's hard to find a trustworthy person to watch your stuff here, vs. in Northampton or Ptown; b. I don't want to support starbucks; and c. I fancied a proper break. It was busy enough out that it was worth taking a real break and setting up for a third set, something I don't usually do! I fancied a coffee, seat, and bathroom, so I did a loop around Southbridge and stuff. Thought I'd go to Captain Taylor's, where my new friend Tom works, but alas it was closed, as were most non-chain coffeeshops, I realized. I headed back towards the Royal Mile to settle for a chain, when I came across Caffe Lucano on George IVth. What a nice place! I sat down and got a [decaf] latte, that came with a little chocolate (also snuck the tip chocolate). This place rapidly won me over. After 3:00 pm all the pastries and cakes are half price! The staff was super nice, and the general ambiance was pleasant. Felt very Italian, which was the point. A family came in and sat at what I took to be their regular table, where the nice waitress greeted them like old friends. Anyway, this post is long enough that I won't go into any more detail. You can get pasta and wine for £10! They were putting candles out and dimming the lights, transforming the place for the dinner crowd. I definitely want to go back for dinner if I find a suitable date! Around 7:00 I went back out to work, but deemed the Royal Mile exhausted for the day. There was less foot traffic, and I had already done a set there. Headed instead to Grassmarket, which would surely be good on a Saturday night! Read on.
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part III: Grassmarket
Sure enough, there had been a rugby game that afternoon (Wales vs. Italy), so folks were in a festive mood. The standard stag and hen parties were out, and women were walking around in strapless dresses with bare arms and legs. Definitely a night to make money! I realized that the cobblestone road through Grassmarket was closed to traffic, something I hadn't previously observed about it. This gave me more options! I decided to be nice and check in with the bouncers at the two bars on either side of the place I wanted to set up: The Last Drop and Maggie Dickson's. The woman at The Last Drop said I was fine as long as I didn't block the fire exit, but the man at Maggie Dickson's thought I would be too close to customers and people in their flats, so I set up on the other side of the closed road, facing them. This was even better, since I had a lot of space. I set up everything, but later removed Flaca's setup since it wasn't doing anything and drunk people kept stepping on it. And when my student loan sign fell, I didn't bother putting it up again. There's a lot to say about my three hours here!
1. I was halfway through my first song when I got my first customers. One man said he didn't have money, but his friend did. Sure enough, the friend reached into his sporran (was in full kilt and everything) to get coins! I guess they're functional in addition to stylish!
2. On their heels were two men from Barcelona. They wanted to take pictures, and each had a camera. The arrangement they chose was to have one man pose with me, and the other man hold out both cameras and simultaneously press both shutters. I impressed them with my Spanish (not), and we talked about how I need to go to Barcelona. I asked if I'd get by speaking only "Castillo," and not Catalan. Oh man, Castellano. Not sure what language castles speak. Already feeling the long day!
3. I've already forgotten what "Drunk guy, irish" means, in my notes. I'm going to assume that's all to the story.
4. Interaction with Richard and his friends. Richard came first, and was later joined by his friend Eddie, then one more guy. I already forget how the conversation started! The gist is that he was really touchy feely. He had lots of compliments for my playing and general loveliness, but I had to guide his hand away from my ass a few times (sorry Mom, I know that's not what you want to hear! Lots of witnesses and authorities nearby!). He would ask me to play songs, then try to hold my hand which obviously disrupted the playing. His friend Eddie declared me the prettiest accordion player in the world! I'll assume he has a reputable source for that fact. When they asked why I don't have a boyfriend, I told them I'm a gypsy. They both interrupted, and non-jokingly said "Don't say that!" Right, I must remember that in Europe, gypsies aren't the exotic, mysterious women we romanticize them to be back home.
Oh yes, it's all coming back. Richard wanted to sing. He started singing "Hey There Delilah." Nice and easy! As luck would have it, he began it in C. I wung it well enough, and we went through it a few times. Then we moved on to "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, which I recognized when he sang it despite knowing 2% of popular songs. It was during this that his other friends came over.
I finally asked them to take a step back, that they could watch and listen but other people had to be able to see me too if I was going to make any money that night. They were respectful of that (Richard took some persuading). The pedi-cab guys were out, of course, and one came by and conversed with these three about taking them somewhere. Please!! They declined, however, but luckily they went on their way soon after. I made sure to thank that pedi-cab guy next time he came by for almost rescuing me! A couple hours later, Eddie came back. It seemed that Richard had rubbed off on him, since he was too far in my personal space. He encouraged me to pack up and go have a drink with him. He offered to pay me my hourly rate to do so, when I said I needed to work. He offered to pay me £90. Damn, maybe I should have. I had to be really forceful and insist that he take "no" for an answer, and loudly start playing a song to get him to go.
Note: I choose to get myself into this! When you busk around drunk European men on rugby day, this goes with the territory. You also make a buttload of money so it's worth it! I'm a pretty good judge of who is and isn't harmless, and I make sure to be in contact with the bouncers and bikers to come in as backup if necessary. Don't worry!! And I didn't stay past 10:00!
5. A general note: I was a lot more aggressive soliciting tips! By "a lot" I mean "very slightly," but it was still good practice. Some buskers yell things to passersby, cleverly getting them to tip. I don't feel comfortable doing that, and prefer to just smile and do the best I can do to earn my tips. Since lowered inhibitions were in the air, even though mine were intact, I was talking to people first tonight, roping them in! It works pretty well with drunk men! Here's an example:
6. A guy stopped and asked if I could play any "Something." I said no. He started to walk away, and this is when I took action! I asked him, "What's your second choice?" "Something Something." "Okay...third choice?" "Beatles?" "Okay, what song?" "What can you do?" "I can wing the famous ones!" Liberal use of the word "can" there. "Hard Day's Night." Managed to do okay! Messed up the chromatic bits ("when I get home to you, you'll find the things that I do"), but it mattered not since he was drunk and already talking to someone else. Easy tip!
7. A man came and stood right in front of me and talked and talked. Heavy accent, hard to understand. I figured he was after something. Finally, I gathered that he's paranoid schizophrenic and won't get something he needs till next week, so he needed to borrow money? He also told me that the beggar at the other end of Grassmarket spends it all on "junk," and sometimes makes £70 a day, so I shouldn't give him any money. He went on and on, and I was really surprised that my first attempt to say "I'm sorry I can't help, good luck" worked, and he started on his way! But then he came back and talked more, but I was rescued by my Spanish friends! Yay!
8. Great to see my hostel friends Enric, Bibi and Mikel. All except Nacho and Marcos. Those guys are great, I really need to keep in touch with them!
9. An older man on a bike stopped. Great gear--ankle band with lights, headlamp, etc. He reminisced that the last time he had seen me play there I was playing French songs. Good memory, I played in Grassmarket once before, and it was a while ago! He specifically remembered "La Mar." He lives upstairs, I guess! Good luck sleeping ever.
10. Speaking of which, tenants of the flat right about the costume shop paid me frequent visits in their window! There were three of them that showed up in different combinations, waving and blowing kisses. At one point they opened the window to talk, but it didn't work. I yelled up, "I hope I'm not keeping you up!" then realized that it was like 8:22 pm.
11. A guy dropped a tip, then said, "That was good, I gave you a whole pound!" I thought he meant that his tipping was generous, and therefore good, but upon writing this I realized that he probably meant my music was good. Not quite as noteworthy.
12. A girl brought her friend my way via piggyback, and requested anything Eastern European. I said I could do the Tetris theme song, which is originally a Russian folk song, and she was okay with that. I played it, and they actually managed to dance in piggyback formation.
13. A bunch of guys came over in green Irish rugby jerseys. After a quick conversation, I started playing "Whiskey in the Jar." They sang along at the important parts, in a perfectly loud and Irish way! Love it. MUSHA RING DUMMA DUM DAMMA DA (they didn't clap four times...boo) WHACK FOR THE DADDY O, WHACK FOR THE DADDY O THERE'S WHISKEY IN THE JAR!
14. A guy with a heavy Scottish accent asked if I could play "That's Amore." Took him three times for me to understand!
15. A young couple stopped by. I really liked them. Although the girl asked right away if I have children. That's new! Like so many before them tonight, they asked me to play "Flower of Scotland." I had to let them down that I don't know it, but asked how it went. The girl started singing it, and the guy interrupted and took over, then she did the same. They're from Glasgow. No, Hamilton, the girl interrupted. They kept interrupting each other, but it was so cute! Loving banter. The girl gave me a nice pep talk, telling me to be what I want to be, to never be anything else, etc. etc.
16. As I said, lots of people asked for Flower of Scotland. I offered "Scotland the Brave" instead, which I know only because the bagpipers rarely play anything else! It went over pretty well!
17. Another Irish guy, I asked if he wanted a reel, a drinking song, or a sad slow song. He wanted the third, and chose "The Leaving of Liverpool." Didn't sing along that much, like he promised! Maybe I chose a bad key.
18. Met Danny, a drunk guy. He was so worried about me here, and invited me to move in. Nothaaaanks! I forget the rest of this conversation. His friend showed up soon after and rescued me.
19. A note about songs: I was getting creative tonight. This crowd was pretty particular, and a lot of my songs wouldn't have done well. I ended up improvising quite a lot, and playing songs I haven't played for well over a year. This was not so fun to the bikers or bouncers, but it was really fun for me! I was so sick of my songs, being my third set of the day. I pulled out old favorites "Like a Prayer," "The Way You Make Me Feel" and "My Heart Will Go On," and improvised both Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" and "Someone Like You," "500 Miles," "Daydream Believer," "Billie Jean," "The Cave" (Mumford and Sons), and whatever else I think of tomorrow and add. Good "workshop" time! Must learn more pop and more themes for nights like these.
20. Some men asked for a Scottish song that has "Highlands" in the title. I offered Scotland the Brave, but another friend of theirs asked for Star Wars instead. Yeahh!! I really have to learn it officially, but my rendition was recognizable. Another asked for "When the Saints go Marching In."
21. A man asked if I would play "Happy Birthday." Not then, later! Sure. But he didn't come back before 10:00. Oh well. There was another birthday group out, and I played the song as they retreated, and one finally noticed and waved. The Hen parties were equally unresponsive. I never know what to play for the stag parties, but I spotted one group of men that included a man wearing a veil and "bride to be" sash, so "here comes the bride" would have gone over very well. But they never came close enough! People spend so much money on these events; many of them have customized shirts or jackets with their names, and all sorts of matching accessories. I hope I never have to be part of one of those.
22. Towards the end of the night, a man named Jim stopped to talk. We got to the part of the conversation where I say I'm from Massachusetts, and he said he's been there, to Hyannisport. He told me an anecdote of when he boarded a Greyhound bus, that would eventually take him cross-country, and a man sat next to him. That man was from Hyannisport, and was owed $50 by JFK! He used to work as a security guard at the Kennedy estate, and despite having so much money, Jack didn't carry any on him. He was headed into town to get something, and asked this guard to lend him $50. "Then he was assassinated before he could pay him back!"
23. At one point I turned around and saw three men doing push-ups behind me. One was wearing a pig head. Better not to ask.
24. Got some good singing on Don't Stop Me Now!
25. Of course, a pitch this good on a Saturday night all to myself is too good to be true. There's this guy who plays guitar and chain smokes who I've seen there, as well as other places. He showed up and walked past me several times. Didn't say a word. Obviously he wanted me to beat it, but I wasn't going to just infer that, he had to talk about it! The last time he walked by, he muttered something that ended with "...my patch." Seriously? You've been busking this long and you can't talk to other buskers? I kept thinking about what to say to him. The simple versions were just "If you wanted a turn with this spot, you just had to ask!" and ranged to a complex psychological lecture on how one can't assume others are doing what they do to be malicious, but rather that innocent mistakes are made and the only way to cope is to have a mature discussion. Plus, there's no claiming pitches, hot shot. Obviously this guy's just generally unfriendly. I'd like to play here again, but would rather not face his wrath! Serves him right for heading out so late, when there was ample time for other buskers to claim the spot!
That's all! You made it! Could write lots more analysis, but I ran out of Sunday and I'm at band practice so I have to quit! Thanks for reading! If you made it this far, that's ten whole pages when copy/pasted to Word!
Prologue: Temperature and Other Factors of Comfort
Yesterday was colder than it has been, but I actually stayed pretty warm. My newest rule is that I have to walk to “work,” because that's key to warming up, and the heat from the walk lasts a while. I'm allowed to take the bus home if I want, although my new flat is in such a good location that it's not really necessary.
I made the mistake of doing laundry on Friday night, and both my pairs of wooly tights were still damp. That left me with just synthetic running-y tights and my new purple tights, purchased for use at band gigs. I did really like the look of purple tights under my piano dress, though, especially since the accordion blocks most of my purple sweater so it's not obvious that Flaca and I match! Might make that a permanent thing. Anyway, my legs were colder than usual, but I was doing okay. When I was in Northampton, Steve, the super nice guitar player who's been there, outside of Faces, for years, advised me to stand on cardboard to keep warm. I guess you lose heat (or gain cold) from the sidewalk through your shoes very rapidly. I used this tip on New Year's Eve, but had forgotten it until my dad mentioned it the other day. When I was walking to my second location I passed an overflowing paper recycle bin with lots of crushed boxes. I grabbed one, and it was a lifesaver! I really did notice my feet staying warmer, and even the tiny bit of padding helped my knees! Thanks again for that, Steve. Oh, and I activated handwarmers right away that ended up not being necessary until it was dark, but they were so warm!! I had the idea to give them to a homeless person when I was done, but I ended up not quitting until late, and they were expired.
There was a little bit of wind, but it didn't seem as bad as Friday, or maybe I was just at a better angle? Flaca fell over a few times, but that was the only consequence. The best part was that there was no rain! My first dry Saturday!
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part I: Farmer's Market
I had a tentative plan to skip the Castle Terrace Farmer's Market this week and instead go to Balerno for its monthly market. One of my choir mums told me about it, and this was the one monthly Saturday on which it was being held. It would have been fun to get out of the city and see a smaller town, but it was risky! The website said that entertainment is provided by "Willy the Busker," and I didn't know if there was room for two. I can't afford to not have a full Saturday of tips coming in, and I didn't want to go all that way and not play!
I stuck with my usual Saturday routine instead. I planned to get there early, like 10:30, and really get the kids. Of course that didn't happen. Once again, I got my spot. New people were working the venison stand, and the stand next to East Coast Organics was empty, weird! Maybe they saw me coming and quickly bolted. There's a lot coming, better get started with the numbered list:
1. Talked to the Big Issue lady. I've mentioned her, right? The Big Issue is a magazine sold by folks who are a bit down on their luck. Not sure if they're all homeless; the red vest the vendors wear has the tagline, "Giving a hand up, not a handout" or something. This particular woman is always at my end of the market. I have a really hard time with her accent! She always greets me when I come, but it's hard to converse! At one point I understood from her that there were other musicians set up in the middle of the market. Didn't catch the words, but inferred from the gestures that went along that it was a stringed instrument played vertically and one played horizontally--maybe the cello and guitar duo that walked by last week? I couldn't hear them, so I assumed I wasn't too close. That's terrible, I haven't been here nearly long enough to get to claim spots like that.
2. After "Let's Stay Together," a guy tipped and said "Cool Al Green!" Yeahh! It's still a new song, and was a hasty arrangement, so I don't really expect to get compliments on it (and I'm too lazy to improve the arrangement).
3. Two men stopped to talk, whom I took to be Caribbean based on their apparel and accents. One asked if I could play anything from "the island," which I heard in the plural, and took to mean the Caribbean islands. I probably shouldn't admit this, but humans' innate lack of figurative colorblindness sometimes leads us to these quick misunderstandings. He meant the British island. Of course. Good thing I didn't play the theme from "Cool Runnings" or something! I quickly recovered (sort of) and said I only know Irish songs so far. He asked if I know anything from Limerick, which I don't. He told me to learn "Danny Boy" for next week! I'm planning on it!
4. The kids were few and far between! The first action Flaca got was from two sisters wearing matching outfits and their dad. That sounds like they were wearing their dad. I played Beer Barrel Polka for Flaca to dance to, and they passed her around perfectly: little girl took the first part, older girl took the second part, and dad took the chorus! Flaca's skirt has been a little loose, and the dance move that the dad orchestrated was a little much for the yarn, and the skirt began sliding down. When the final chord sounded, her skirt was around her knees, exposing her orange legs! I should make her some polka-dotted underwear. It's now double-knotted very tightly.
5. The other kid Flaca met was Oliver, an adorable and curious little boy. He acknowledged Flaca, but wasn't super interested in playing. It's interesting, the kids all go for Flaca's tip box! I guess a doll-sized little box is intriguing! They're also not interesting in shaking it as a percussive devise. Regardless, Oliver gave Flaca a nice kiss. They seemed interested in me as a babysitter as well! Hope to hear from them.
6. An observation: I actually noticed the following the previous Saturday. It took nearly two years of busking to notice the reflection of my tips on my accordion! One can clearly see pretty gold dots in the shiny plastic of the treble side of the accordion! Actually, not surprising since my tips were paper before now. Beautiful nonetheless!
It was generally pretty slow. Flaca was tipped more than I was, I think. Next week I must get out earlier! I packed up a little early. I'm so sick of my songs, and I find that after two play-throughs I need a break just due to boredom. That's usually upwards of two hours, so it's okay to quit. The Chocolate Tree guy was super nice! For some reason I thought he didn't like me, but I stopped by that stand on my way out and asked him if it was close enough to closing time to get £1 hot chocolate. He said no, but said I could have a dark chocolate shot for £1, usually £1.50. I agreed, and swung my accordion around to access my money. I guess he didn't recognize me by the dress, because when he saw the accordion he said, "Oh, for you it'll be 75p." Excellent. I told him I appreciated it, and he said he appreciates me music! Guess I got that one wrong.
Time for some italics to break things up. Sampled some cheese at a stand, said hi to Robbie the porridge vendor, then went to take a break and eat my lunch. I ended up in the National Museum: free entry, lots of space. I found the "group space," equipped with tables and chairs for school trips to have their lunches. Perfect! I snuck in and set up at a back table. A sign stated that it was only for pre-reserved groups, but no one else was in there so I went for it. There was a camera so I ate fast, but I didn't have to. Guess I'm not a threat! I packed a super delicious lunch: baguette sandwich with avocado and nutritional yeast, apple, carrots. Headed to the Royal Mile after for set #2!
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part II: Royal Mile
The usual crowd was out: Dieter in silver, Charlie Chaplin, and Todd with his huge crowd. Today he was in chains. The spot I've been using most often, on the corner of High St. and Cockburn across from what might be the Tron Church, was open, but across from it there was a guy holding a guitar in a case. I was relieved when he said he wasn't about to set up. So I did.
1. A guy gave my setup the once-over and asked what part of America I'm from. How did he know?? He had a heavy Southern accent.
2. One guy walked by and just pointed at Flaca. Yep, there she is!
3. Notes say "accent, learn song, sing." I think this refers to an old Scottish man who suggested I learn a song, but whose accent I couldn't understand. I forget which song it was. I'm going to assume Flower of Scotland, since everyone was asking for it yesterday.
4. Met a man named Guy. He asked where I'm from, I said the US, he asked which part, I said MA, and he asked if it's cold or hot. He also asked for Flower of Scotland. I said I couldn’t do it, and asked what kind of song he wanted instead. He said to play what I wanted, so I just did what was next on the set list: Stevie Wonder's "I Believe...." After, Guy asked if he could tell me something, which I permitted. By the way, he was holding an unopened beer can. He told me that he's been an alcoholic for many years, and that on Thursday he goes away to rehab. He made the call and booked the bed. Starting Thursday, he'll be a new man. I offered him my congratulations. He said that he had £5, and that he was going to go buy two more beers, then he'd come back and give me the remaining pound. I suggested that he get a head start and NOT buy two beers, but his mind was made up. He never came back. Best of luck, Guy.
5. I'm even managing to get sick of Ring of Fire, if you can believe that!! I seriously need some new songs. Anyway, I decided to try to polka-ize RoF a bit. It paid off, because a group walked by and sang along and danced!
6. The wind blew and Flaca fell over. Poor thing, the paint on her nose has chipped off from all the faceplants she's been doing. But this time, for the first time ever, a witness walked over and picked her up for me! Usually I'm mid-song when this happens so I wait until I finish, and people wonder why there's a doll lying on her face on the sidewalk. So nice of that guy!
7. I met Andy! This was a big (very short-lived and insignificant) mystery. That morning, I saw "Andy" in my cell phone contacts. I had nooo idea who it was. I'm not really getting wasted and putting rando’s numbers in my phone these days, so I wondered why I couldn’t remember. A guy came over while I was playing and said, "I think we've been emailing, I'm Dylan's friend." ANDY!!!!!!!* Of course! Dylan is the person who moved out of my old flat, thus opening up my room. He knows Andy, who was looking for an accordion player. Mystery solved!
*The exclamation of "Andy!" always has to be said in Pee-Wee's voice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KydCR2ZLx8
8. Strange interaction. A guy slowly walked over, and it seemed that he was unable to talk. He was pointing to Flaca and gesturing puppetry, and got a few words out. At first I thought he had some special needs. He was generally acting sort of strange. I picked up Flaca and handed her over, and he pretty much just suspended her, not making her move much. I said that her shoes do make a sound on the ground, but he didn't use that information. He said more, I forget what, but I started to suspect that he wasn't learning impaired but rather just drunk. Sure enough, I started to smell whiskey on him. Still not 100% sure though. He thought that I would do really well with Flaca, that I would make 15 quid. He moved on eventually, walking with a little swagger but seemed to keep his balance okay. He went over to the Starbucks across the street where some young women were sitting outside, and sat with them. Oh boy.
9. Some men stopped by, French I think, and asked if I could play the theme from the Simpsons. Good idea! It's super jazzy, so I didn't dare try the left hand, but managed to get out some of the melody. I should learn it!!
10. There was definitely a wedding happening nearby, since people were walking by in fancy clothes. No kilts, though. I waited for the bride, but didn't see her! I was surprised by the lack of hen parties though, being a Saturday. Finally saw one, and they recognized the song but didn't tip!
11. There was one stag party, and the groom posed with me for a picture. I congratulated him on his impending nuptials, and one of his friends said something like, "You haven't met the bride." Poor thing!
12. Right as I was deciding to pack up, a man said, "I don't have money, but I have chocolate." Yess. Nice, dark chocolate.
You've made it two thirds of the way!! Go make some tea, since the last part is the craziest of all. Around 5:30 I was thinking that I could use a warm drink and bathroom break, and considered just getting someone watch my stuff and running to Starbucks across the street. But, a. it's hard to find a trustworthy person to watch your stuff here, vs. in Northampton or Ptown; b. I don't want to support starbucks; and c. I fancied a proper break. It was busy enough out that it was worth taking a real break and setting up for a third set, something I don't usually do! I fancied a coffee, seat, and bathroom, so I did a loop around Southbridge and stuff. Thought I'd go to Captain Taylor's, where my new friend Tom works, but alas it was closed, as were most non-chain coffeeshops, I realized. I headed back towards the Royal Mile to settle for a chain, when I came across Caffe Lucano on George IVth. What a nice place! I sat down and got a [decaf] latte, that came with a little chocolate (also snuck the tip chocolate). This place rapidly won me over. After 3:00 pm all the pastries and cakes are half price! The staff was super nice, and the general ambiance was pleasant. Felt very Italian, which was the point. A family came in and sat at what I took to be their regular table, where the nice waitress greeted them like old friends. Anyway, this post is long enough that I won't go into any more detail. You can get pasta and wine for £10! They were putting candles out and dimming the lights, transforming the place for the dinner crowd. I definitely want to go back for dinner if I find a suitable date! Around 7:00 I went back out to work, but deemed the Royal Mile exhausted for the day. There was less foot traffic, and I had already done a set there. Headed instead to Grassmarket, which would surely be good on a Saturday night! Read on.
Saturday, 10 March 2012, Part III: Grassmarket
Sure enough, there had been a rugby game that afternoon (Wales vs. Italy), so folks were in a festive mood. The standard stag and hen parties were out, and women were walking around in strapless dresses with bare arms and legs. Definitely a night to make money! I realized that the cobblestone road through Grassmarket was closed to traffic, something I hadn't previously observed about it. This gave me more options! I decided to be nice and check in with the bouncers at the two bars on either side of the place I wanted to set up: The Last Drop and Maggie Dickson's. The woman at The Last Drop said I was fine as long as I didn't block the fire exit, but the man at Maggie Dickson's thought I would be too close to customers and people in their flats, so I set up on the other side of the closed road, facing them. This was even better, since I had a lot of space. I set up everything, but later removed Flaca's setup since it wasn't doing anything and drunk people kept stepping on it. And when my student loan sign fell, I didn't bother putting it up again. There's a lot to say about my three hours here!
1. I was halfway through my first song when I got my first customers. One man said he didn't have money, but his friend did. Sure enough, the friend reached into his sporran (was in full kilt and everything) to get coins! I guess they're functional in addition to stylish!
2. On their heels were two men from Barcelona. They wanted to take pictures, and each had a camera. The arrangement they chose was to have one man pose with me, and the other man hold out both cameras and simultaneously press both shutters. I impressed them with my Spanish (not), and we talked about how I need to go to Barcelona. I asked if I'd get by speaking only "Castillo," and not Catalan. Oh man, Castellano. Not sure what language castles speak. Already feeling the long day!
3. I've already forgotten what "Drunk guy, irish" means, in my notes. I'm going to assume that's all to the story.
4. Interaction with Richard and his friends. Richard came first, and was later joined by his friend Eddie, then one more guy. I already forget how the conversation started! The gist is that he was really touchy feely. He had lots of compliments for my playing and general loveliness, but I had to guide his hand away from my ass a few times (sorry Mom, I know that's not what you want to hear! Lots of witnesses and authorities nearby!). He would ask me to play songs, then try to hold my hand which obviously disrupted the playing. His friend Eddie declared me the prettiest accordion player in the world! I'll assume he has a reputable source for that fact. When they asked why I don't have a boyfriend, I told them I'm a gypsy. They both interrupted, and non-jokingly said "Don't say that!" Right, I must remember that in Europe, gypsies aren't the exotic, mysterious women we romanticize them to be back home.
Oh yes, it's all coming back. Richard wanted to sing. He started singing "Hey There Delilah." Nice and easy! As luck would have it, he began it in C. I wung it well enough, and we went through it a few times. Then we moved on to "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, which I recognized when he sang it despite knowing 2% of popular songs. It was during this that his other friends came over.
I finally asked them to take a step back, that they could watch and listen but other people had to be able to see me too if I was going to make any money that night. They were respectful of that (Richard took some persuading). The pedi-cab guys were out, of course, and one came by and conversed with these three about taking them somewhere. Please!! They declined, however, but luckily they went on their way soon after. I made sure to thank that pedi-cab guy next time he came by for almost rescuing me! A couple hours later, Eddie came back. It seemed that Richard had rubbed off on him, since he was too far in my personal space. He encouraged me to pack up and go have a drink with him. He offered to pay me my hourly rate to do so, when I said I needed to work. He offered to pay me £90. Damn, maybe I should have. I had to be really forceful and insist that he take "no" for an answer, and loudly start playing a song to get him to go.
Note: I choose to get myself into this! When you busk around drunk European men on rugby day, this goes with the territory. You also make a buttload of money so it's worth it! I'm a pretty good judge of who is and isn't harmless, and I make sure to be in contact with the bouncers and bikers to come in as backup if necessary. Don't worry!! And I didn't stay past 10:00!
5. A general note: I was a lot more aggressive soliciting tips! By "a lot" I mean "very slightly," but it was still good practice. Some buskers yell things to passersby, cleverly getting them to tip. I don't feel comfortable doing that, and prefer to just smile and do the best I can do to earn my tips. Since lowered inhibitions were in the air, even though mine were intact, I was talking to people first tonight, roping them in! It works pretty well with drunk men! Here's an example:
6. A guy stopped and asked if I could play any "Something." I said no. He started to walk away, and this is when I took action! I asked him, "What's your second choice?" "Something Something." "Okay...third choice?" "Beatles?" "Okay, what song?" "What can you do?" "I can wing the famous ones!" Liberal use of the word "can" there. "Hard Day's Night." Managed to do okay! Messed up the chromatic bits ("when I get home to you, you'll find the things that I do"), but it mattered not since he was drunk and already talking to someone else. Easy tip!
7. A man came and stood right in front of me and talked and talked. Heavy accent, hard to understand. I figured he was after something. Finally, I gathered that he's paranoid schizophrenic and won't get something he needs till next week, so he needed to borrow money? He also told me that the beggar at the other end of Grassmarket spends it all on "junk," and sometimes makes £70 a day, so I shouldn't give him any money. He went on and on, and I was really surprised that my first attempt to say "I'm sorry I can't help, good luck" worked, and he started on his way! But then he came back and talked more, but I was rescued by my Spanish friends! Yay!
8. Great to see my hostel friends Enric, Bibi and Mikel. All except Nacho and Marcos. Those guys are great, I really need to keep in touch with them!
9. An older man on a bike stopped. Great gear--ankle band with lights, headlamp, etc. He reminisced that the last time he had seen me play there I was playing French songs. Good memory, I played in Grassmarket once before, and it was a while ago! He specifically remembered "La Mar." He lives upstairs, I guess! Good luck sleeping ever.
10. Speaking of which, tenants of the flat right about the costume shop paid me frequent visits in their window! There were three of them that showed up in different combinations, waving and blowing kisses. At one point they opened the window to talk, but it didn't work. I yelled up, "I hope I'm not keeping you up!" then realized that it was like 8:22 pm.
11. A guy dropped a tip, then said, "That was good, I gave you a whole pound!" I thought he meant that his tipping was generous, and therefore good, but upon writing this I realized that he probably meant my music was good. Not quite as noteworthy.
12. A girl brought her friend my way via piggyback, and requested anything Eastern European. I said I could do the Tetris theme song, which is originally a Russian folk song, and she was okay with that. I played it, and they actually managed to dance in piggyback formation.
13. A bunch of guys came over in green Irish rugby jerseys. After a quick conversation, I started playing "Whiskey in the Jar." They sang along at the important parts, in a perfectly loud and Irish way! Love it. MUSHA RING DUMMA DUM DAMMA DA (they didn't clap four times...boo) WHACK FOR THE DADDY O, WHACK FOR THE DADDY O THERE'S WHISKEY IN THE JAR!
14. A guy with a heavy Scottish accent asked if I could play "That's Amore." Took him three times for me to understand!
15. A young couple stopped by. I really liked them. Although the girl asked right away if I have children. That's new! Like so many before them tonight, they asked me to play "Flower of Scotland." I had to let them down that I don't know it, but asked how it went. The girl started singing it, and the guy interrupted and took over, then she did the same. They're from Glasgow. No, Hamilton, the girl interrupted. They kept interrupting each other, but it was so cute! Loving banter. The girl gave me a nice pep talk, telling me to be what I want to be, to never be anything else, etc. etc.
16. As I said, lots of people asked for Flower of Scotland. I offered "Scotland the Brave" instead, which I know only because the bagpipers rarely play anything else! It went over pretty well!
17. Another Irish guy, I asked if he wanted a reel, a drinking song, or a sad slow song. He wanted the third, and chose "The Leaving of Liverpool." Didn't sing along that much, like he promised! Maybe I chose a bad key.
18. Met Danny, a drunk guy. He was so worried about me here, and invited me to move in. Nothaaaanks! I forget the rest of this conversation. His friend showed up soon after and rescued me.
19. A note about songs: I was getting creative tonight. This crowd was pretty particular, and a lot of my songs wouldn't have done well. I ended up improvising quite a lot, and playing songs I haven't played for well over a year. This was not so fun to the bikers or bouncers, but it was really fun for me! I was so sick of my songs, being my third set of the day. I pulled out old favorites "Like a Prayer," "The Way You Make Me Feel" and "My Heart Will Go On," and improvised both Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" and "Someone Like You," "500 Miles," "Daydream Believer," "Billie Jean," "The Cave" (Mumford and Sons), and whatever else I think of tomorrow and add. Good "workshop" time! Must learn more pop and more themes for nights like these.
20. Some men asked for a Scottish song that has "Highlands" in the title. I offered Scotland the Brave, but another friend of theirs asked for Star Wars instead. Yeahh!! I really have to learn it officially, but my rendition was recognizable. Another asked for "When the Saints go Marching In."
21. A man asked if I would play "Happy Birthday." Not then, later! Sure. But he didn't come back before 10:00. Oh well. There was another birthday group out, and I played the song as they retreated, and one finally noticed and waved. The Hen parties were equally unresponsive. I never know what to play for the stag parties, but I spotted one group of men that included a man wearing a veil and "bride to be" sash, so "here comes the bride" would have gone over very well. But they never came close enough! People spend so much money on these events; many of them have customized shirts or jackets with their names, and all sorts of matching accessories. I hope I never have to be part of one of those.
22. Towards the end of the night, a man named Jim stopped to talk. We got to the part of the conversation where I say I'm from Massachusetts, and he said he's been there, to Hyannisport. He told me an anecdote of when he boarded a Greyhound bus, that would eventually take him cross-country, and a man sat next to him. That man was from Hyannisport, and was owed $50 by JFK! He used to work as a security guard at the Kennedy estate, and despite having so much money, Jack didn't carry any on him. He was headed into town to get something, and asked this guard to lend him $50. "Then he was assassinated before he could pay him back!"
23. At one point I turned around and saw three men doing push-ups behind me. One was wearing a pig head. Better not to ask.
24. Got some good singing on Don't Stop Me Now!
25. Of course, a pitch this good on a Saturday night all to myself is too good to be true. There's this guy who plays guitar and chain smokes who I've seen there, as well as other places. He showed up and walked past me several times. Didn't say a word. Obviously he wanted me to beat it, but I wasn't going to just infer that, he had to talk about it! The last time he walked by, he muttered something that ended with "...my patch." Seriously? You've been busking this long and you can't talk to other buskers? I kept thinking about what to say to him. The simple versions were just "If you wanted a turn with this spot, you just had to ask!" and ranged to a complex psychological lecture on how one can't assume others are doing what they do to be malicious, but rather that innocent mistakes are made and the only way to cope is to have a mature discussion. Plus, there's no claiming pitches, hot shot. Obviously this guy's just generally unfriendly. I'd like to play here again, but would rather not face his wrath! Serves him right for heading out so late, when there was ample time for other buskers to claim the spot!
That's all! You made it! Could write lots more analysis, but I ran out of Sunday and I'm at band practice so I have to quit! Thanks for reading! If you made it this far, that's ten whole pages when copy/pasted to Word!
Wind and Trading
Last Friday was a beautiful day! Warm, sunny, and folks were out. I set up on the Middle Meadow Walk, where I always recognize people now! However, I stayed for less than one play-through of my set list, since the wind was brutal! I'm used to having to quickly step on my set list to keep from losing it and picking up Flaca, but this particular wind was so strong that my whole box was getting moved. I was in danger of losing my main S^3 sign, and attempted to wrap the lid of the box in bungees to make a cage for it. It was very stressful though, since these signs are irreplaceable, so I packed up. I conceded Flaca's setup, putting it all in the box, and realized later that I could have conceded everything else: protect all my signs and just have an open box. The money wasn't even that great anyway. I like being over there to meet people, but it's not the most financially advantageous pitch.
I was glad I went out though, since something awesome happened! Before we get to that, four boring points:
1. I met a woman named Monica who wants accordion lessons!
2. While I was talking to someone and not playing, a banjo player set up pretty nearby. Hey!
3. I talked to a man from Canada who called my accordion a concertina, but then took a closer look and corrected himself! Nice! He says his daughter is learning the concertina.
4. School got out, and some boys went by. One said, "Give her the 10p!" I guess they were debating who this particular 10p belonged to, so I solved that problem. that works!
5. And the awesome thing: A guy and girl came up and asked if I wanted to play a game. All I had to do was trade something for a pen. They had been playing for about five days, literally just trading one object for another object. The most interesting thing they had gotten so far was a shuttlecock birdie. I rifled through my bag to find something to trade, and came across my keys, hanging from a San Francisco keychain. This was purchased for me by my first friend in SF, and held my SF house keys over there. It definitely has sentimental value! After a little hesitation, I handed it over for the black pen. It turns out this trade was the last thing the guy, David, did before going to work. He put on his red British Red Cross jacket and took his post on the Middle Meadow Walk, stopping folks to solicit donations (of money, not blood, unfortunately). Several times he offered to give back the keychain, but each time he did I felt more confident in sending it out into the world. I told him to tell whoever he gave it to that it has sentimental value, and made him promise to get something good for it.
I think this is a great project! It's a nice way to unite human beings while reminding us to separate from material goods. Why not just give something away that you happen to have on you? My keys are slightly harder to find in my bag now, but that's fine, and I have other San Francisco souvenirs. I encouraged David to start a blog, keeping track of his trades, the people he met, and interesting conversations he had. Secretly, I'd love to take over and keep this blog. He said he'd email me about it, and I hope he does. The Trading Game: Uniting Humans Two Objects at a Time. I fully intend to carry the pen around with me and trade it to start my own branch!
6. Right after I traded, an older gentleman stopped to talk. He gave me his card for his ceilidh band, the Thunder Dogs. He told me about some events, and said to call him about musical things. That meant I needed his phone number, which wasn't written on the card. He asked if I had a pen.
Did I ever!!!! That confirmed the fact that the SF keychain was on an adventure, and this pen was meant to get to me.
The end! Get ready for a massive post about Saturday!
I was glad I went out though, since something awesome happened! Before we get to that, four boring points:
1. I met a woman named Monica who wants accordion lessons!
2. While I was talking to someone and not playing, a banjo player set up pretty nearby. Hey!
3. I talked to a man from Canada who called my accordion a concertina, but then took a closer look and corrected himself! Nice! He says his daughter is learning the concertina.
4. School got out, and some boys went by. One said, "Give her the 10p!" I guess they were debating who this particular 10p belonged to, so I solved that problem. that works!
5. And the awesome thing: A guy and girl came up and asked if I wanted to play a game. All I had to do was trade something for a pen. They had been playing for about five days, literally just trading one object for another object. The most interesting thing they had gotten so far was a shuttlecock birdie. I rifled through my bag to find something to trade, and came across my keys, hanging from a San Francisco keychain. This was purchased for me by my first friend in SF, and held my SF house keys over there. It definitely has sentimental value! After a little hesitation, I handed it over for the black pen. It turns out this trade was the last thing the guy, David, did before going to work. He put on his red British Red Cross jacket and took his post on the Middle Meadow Walk, stopping folks to solicit donations (of money, not blood, unfortunately). Several times he offered to give back the keychain, but each time he did I felt more confident in sending it out into the world. I told him to tell whoever he gave it to that it has sentimental value, and made him promise to get something good for it.
I think this is a great project! It's a nice way to unite human beings while reminding us to separate from material goods. Why not just give something away that you happen to have on you? My keys are slightly harder to find in my bag now, but that's fine, and I have other San Francisco souvenirs. I encouraged David to start a blog, keeping track of his trades, the people he met, and interesting conversations he had. Secretly, I'd love to take over and keep this blog. He said he'd email me about it, and I hope he does. The Trading Game: Uniting Humans Two Objects at a Time. I fully intend to carry the pen around with me and trade it to start my own branch!
6. Right after I traded, an older gentleman stopped to talk. He gave me his card for his ceilidh band, the Thunder Dogs. He told me about some events, and said to call him about musical things. That meant I needed his phone number, which wasn't written on the card. He asked if I had a pen.
Did I ever!!!! That confirmed the fact that the SF keychain was on an adventure, and this pen was meant to get to me.
The end! Get ready for a massive post about Saturday!
Monday, March 5, 2012
Slow Weekday Busk that Didn't Earn a Creative Name
Today was a beautiful day! The sun stayed out, the daffodils and crocuses in the park were glowing, and buskers' friends didn't let them not busk. I thought this would be a good day to play on the Middle Meadow Walk for the second time. I would be in the sun, and there would be lots of students, kids, and others. It was okay, there wasn't a super steady flow of tips, and I got bored and cold, but it was good to get out there. In fact, who did I see sitting at the tables near my pitch but Sas and Rebs, my former :( flatmates! Then it turned out another friend had just gotten a job at the café right there, so there was plenty of socializing. Here's what happened:
Monday, 5 March 2012:
1. There are always people out vending or soliciting something in this area, and today was no exception. Two people wore sweatshirts that said, "Ask me about paintball" as they vigorously did just that to passersby. I'm not sure exactly what they were advertising, but their table had a military decorum about it. Is paintball a new metaphor for cheerful military recruitment or something?
2. I had a first in toddler reactions. A little girl was being pushed in her stroller, pacifier in her mouth. She saw me and the pacifier fell out. She didn't seem to notice or care, and just followed me with her eyes as her pusher continued on.
3. A lady finally understood the matching tip boxes! She narrated, "One for you...and one for her" as she put a big coin in my box and a small one in Flaca's.
4. A mom biked by, going downhill, with her little toddler perched on her little bike seat in front of her. A couple minutes later, they emerged again coming uphill. The girl's face was tearstained; did she shed tears because her mother biked by me too fast? They lingered for a bit to watch. The kid couldn't reach Flaca, so I operated her with my right hand and played some chords on the left, which doesn't really work. Luckily, two slightly older girls appeared! Perfect! I asked if they wanted to work Flaca so I'd have two hands to play. Without really waiting for consent, I passed her to the older one. Halfway through a song she confessed, "I don't want to do this!" and passed her back. Oops. Sorry! After they left, I asked the biker chicks for their favorite songs, and the kid said "Baa Baa Black Sheep." Excellent. They two of their friends came by, including a little boy wearing trousers with dinosaurs on them. We agreed that there aren't enough dinosaur songs out there.
5. Another little girl had a less than excited reaction. She seemed interested when her dad pushed her stroller by, but when they stopped right in front of me, and I had crouched down and picked up Flaca, she started screaming "Mommy!" with snot just pouring out of her nose. Well, we're not for everybody!
6. Someone commented on Yann Tiersen. Yup.
7. A girl stopped and asked, "Are you Pedro's roommate?" As of last Thursday, I am! She had been over the other night and saw my accordion box, and recognized it! Cool!
This is a spot where I'm bound to see people I recognize, and sure enough I did. Some I had met at parties with my old flatmates, who were students, and others I just recognized from playing there before. Tom from the local band Fablewood who I had met once before came by, and we talked about Kaiho opening for them at an upcoming event! I sent him over to talk to Sas, who was luckily the only purple-haired person in the vicinity! Looking forward to that gig, although it means I can't go to the next Uke Boogie. That's fame for you.
The end!
Monday, 5 March 2012:
1. There are always people out vending or soliciting something in this area, and today was no exception. Two people wore sweatshirts that said, "Ask me about paintball" as they vigorously did just that to passersby. I'm not sure exactly what they were advertising, but their table had a military decorum about it. Is paintball a new metaphor for cheerful military recruitment or something?
2. I had a first in toddler reactions. A little girl was being pushed in her stroller, pacifier in her mouth. She saw me and the pacifier fell out. She didn't seem to notice or care, and just followed me with her eyes as her pusher continued on.
3. A lady finally understood the matching tip boxes! She narrated, "One for you...and one for her" as she put a big coin in my box and a small one in Flaca's.
4. A mom biked by, going downhill, with her little toddler perched on her little bike seat in front of her. A couple minutes later, they emerged again coming uphill. The girl's face was tearstained; did she shed tears because her mother biked by me too fast? They lingered for a bit to watch. The kid couldn't reach Flaca, so I operated her with my right hand and played some chords on the left, which doesn't really work. Luckily, two slightly older girls appeared! Perfect! I asked if they wanted to work Flaca so I'd have two hands to play. Without really waiting for consent, I passed her to the older one. Halfway through a song she confessed, "I don't want to do this!" and passed her back. Oops. Sorry! After they left, I asked the biker chicks for their favorite songs, and the kid said "Baa Baa Black Sheep." Excellent. They two of their friends came by, including a little boy wearing trousers with dinosaurs on them. We agreed that there aren't enough dinosaur songs out there.
5. Another little girl had a less than excited reaction. She seemed interested when her dad pushed her stroller by, but when they stopped right in front of me, and I had crouched down and picked up Flaca, she started screaming "Mommy!" with snot just pouring out of her nose. Well, we're not for everybody!
6. Someone commented on Yann Tiersen. Yup.
7. A girl stopped and asked, "Are you Pedro's roommate?" As of last Thursday, I am! She had been over the other night and saw my accordion box, and recognized it! Cool!
This is a spot where I'm bound to see people I recognize, and sure enough I did. Some I had met at parties with my old flatmates, who were students, and others I just recognized from playing there before. Tom from the local band Fablewood who I had met once before came by, and we talked about Kaiho opening for them at an upcoming event! I sent him over to talk to Sas, who was luckily the only purple-haired person in the vicinity! Looking forward to that gig, although it means I can't go to the next Uke Boogie. That's fame for you.
The end!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Elephants Don't Pay
Saturday came again really fast! I didn't busk during the week. I can use the excuses of a Kaiho show and moving apartments, I guess. One work-related project I did this week was make one new sign, cover the loans sign with contact paper to waterproof it, and strengthen its support system (more duct tape, string to serve as a hypotenuse so the sign stops drooping forward! This last thing is a project that's been a long time coming. All this was prompted by getting caught in the rain/snow on my first Farmer's Market day here, where the piano keys of my main sign got smeared. I bought a white paint pen to touch up the keys, before contact papering the sign to prevent future incidents. This really makes the sign permanent, and now it looks kind of blank next to Flaca's, but that's okay.
I got the Farmer's Market spot again! I was sort of late, around 12:30. Robbie said that there had been other musicians earlier, two other acts! I guess my secret's not a secret. It was forecasted to rain all day, but luckily that was not the case. Good hour and a half at the market. Here's what happened:
Saturday, 3 March 2012, Part I
1. A family of parents and a baby stopped listen during "La Noyée." They tipped me after, explaining, "[The baby's] called Amelie." Awesome! They ended up staying for a bit, letting the 8-month-old Amelie "walk" around, and even had some Flaca time. Hope to see them again!
2. A little girl stopped by to play Flaca soon after I had played "Ring of Fire" for the first time. I've been playing simple upbeat songs during Flaca's dance numbers, usually Wallace and Gromit. After, I asked if she wanted to hear a song, expecting a kid's song. She didn't talk, but her dad piped up that she likes Ring of Fire. All right! Played it again and Flaca danced and danced.
3. A guy tipped, and said "More Twin Peaks!" Yeahh! Played him off with Laura's Theme. Americans have really been put to shame on this one!
4. Two folks walked by with what I guessed to be a cello and guitar. Ooh musicians, they'll probably tip! As they walked away I saw the chair, signifying that they wanted to busk. Ha!
5. Flaca kept breaking! I had to untie some of her strings to change her clothes, and I guess I didn't tie them back on strong enough. Two of them slipped out! She could dance with one arm and leg, but not with no head. I'll have to glue them.
6. Right across from where I play at the Saturday market is the East Coast Organics produce stand. One of the guys working had a toddler with him. At the end of the market, the mom showed up and lingered with the kid. He toddled over in his red shoes, blue pants, yellow shirt, and green jacket and checked out my scene. He was unfazed by Flaca, and put his interests towards Flaca's tip box. Specifically, he wanted it closed. But he wasn't interested in rattling the money in it. He ran over a few times, and one point declaring to his mother, "Pennies!"
Packed up when the market was packing up. George wasn't working, (his wife was?) so no will power was required to avoid the haggis.
I stopped on route to my second set on the Royal Mile to eat, and sat on a sunny bench in Grassmarket. I had packed an exciting tupperware full of rice, cucumber, and avocado. When I prepared it in the morning I thought I was was a genius, pretty much making veggie maki without the seaweed. Delicious. A few hours later, the avocado was all brown and the cucumber had been softened by the warm rice--ew!
As I basked in the sun with my legs up on the box, a man stopped and commented on the box. He was wearing a warm tweed jacket over a yellow shirt, and looked sort of like an old version of a young Dustin Hoffman, without looking much like Dustin Hoffman. This was an interesting conversation. I wish someone had written it down verbatim.
He introduced himself, and tried to guess what was in the box. He had quite the time of this. "Does it explode?" No. "It's a love bomb. Do you know what that is? It's when you bomb somebody because you love them." Then he guessed art, but I swayed him to music. He never guessed musical instruments. Once he knew it was music, he wouldn't budge on the fact that it was either a stereo, a jukebox, or a jack-in-the box. "Does it spin?" No. "Then it pops up." Nope. "The cool thing is something that I do, not that it does." "Oh, so it's manual. A hand-cranked phonograph." NO!!! He kept circling these options, and I told him he was missing a major category. Once he knew it was an instrument, he went through every section of the orchestra: brass? woodwind? strings? What stringed instrument fits in a 17" x 17" x 6" box? Is it an instrument that originates in America? No. Then he guessed everywhere in the world except Europe. Had to give him that one. He got it! He then commented on the aboriginal art motifs on the box. Australian aboriginal art. On the sides. I peered at the right side. "No, this side!" The sides are identical! And definitely not aboriginal Australian motifs. He asked why I had chosen Scotland to play, when I could go anywhere. Like...Mexico! I said "I'd love to, but unfortunately I have to choose places with lots of expendable income and rich tourists if I'm going to get by." He agreed with this, stating his own experience. He's Australian, and he's working for the Scottish government. He chose this job because they paid best! He had gotten offers all over...Botswana. "Botswana may have elephants, but it doesn't have money!" "Elephants don't pay!"
Anyway, continued on! Once again everyone was out on the Royal Mile. Dieter in silver, Charlie Chaplin, bagpiper, a guitar and violin duo, and then four girls singing right across from where I wanted to go! I probably should have listened to them, since female vocal quartets are my number one favorite thing in the world, but I was frustrated! I was at North Bridge by then, so I figured I would just go over to New Town and try Rose St. Luckily it started raining!! I secretly love when it rains, because it means I get to stop. I ducked into Sainsbury's to see if they have Rice Milk (so far Waitrose is the only supermarket to have Rice Milk WITH Calcium, and they're no longer my local stop now that I've moved!). By the time I got out, it had stopped raining. It was too early to bail if it was clear. There were some people out on Rose St., and I actually got a good spot. It was the spot I started at before that homeless man yelled at me previously. He wasn't out though (maybe because of the rain?), so I jumped on it. I was a little worried that the guitar player a block away would get mad, and then karma did its duty when the sitar player set up equidistant to me as I was to the guitar player. Fine.
I only have five notes here, so this should be quick!
Saturday 3 March 2012, Part II
1. The hen parties were out and about! One seemed to be "cowboys and indians" themed. They certainly responded to "Here Comes the Bride." The prospect of this song being recognized always gives me my least favorite, tempo-raising, brow-moistening adrenaline rush! So annoying!
2. Some preteen girls wearing Justin Bieber t-shirts came over and asked if I knew any Justin Bieber. I don't! They told me to learn "Baby." I think I'll give in and do just that.
3. A little boy holding a fake severed hand. I've seen kids walking by holding some crazy stuff, but this was a first!
4. Another problem: it seems that the gold grate on my accordion is eroding Flaca's cheek in the box. I noticed the red dust on the accordion, then saw the damaged cheek. It's always something!! I have to stop putting so much stuff in that box.
5. Nice moment: a woman stopped by who looked down on her luck. Few teeth, ratty hair and clothes, the works. She was so incredibly sweet. She just adored Flaca, and went on about how lovely she is. "Where did you get such a lovely doll?" "I got her in Mexico!" "Oh, how lovely! I've been to Mexi...well, Greece!" "Look her just sitting there, watching the world go by! Lovely like her mama!" "I'll have to tell me daughter about this lovely girl!" She had a heavy accent, but I was able to understand most of it. She said she'd love to give me something, but didn't have enough even to eat. She promised we'd see each other again, and instructed me to keep it up. This interaction really stayed with me; thinking about how people react to the less privileged. Obviously this isn't news to anyone, but why can't we show some compassion? This woman obviously has enough love to go around, so why can't everyone stop and have a decent conversation with her? I wonder what happened to her. Where's her daughter? I hope I see this woman again, and try to help her in my own way.
One last thing: I hate the wind!!! I've supported the loans sign with a string, always stand on my set list to not lose it, and I've rubber banded my Let's Go Europe book/Flaca's stand after the blowing pages last weekend. But yesterday it kept taking my S^3 sign!! Argh.
That's all. Didn't busk today, probably not going to. It was raining before, and now it's not but there are certain things I must do like talk to my parents and practice for choir practice tonight!!
Thanks for reading, and sorry for all the inevitable typos! (Inevitable because I tried to speed through today's posts and didn't proofread.)
I got the Farmer's Market spot again! I was sort of late, around 12:30. Robbie said that there had been other musicians earlier, two other acts! I guess my secret's not a secret. It was forecasted to rain all day, but luckily that was not the case. Good hour and a half at the market. Here's what happened:
Saturday, 3 March 2012, Part I
1. A family of parents and a baby stopped listen during "La Noyée." They tipped me after, explaining, "[The baby's] called Amelie." Awesome! They ended up staying for a bit, letting the 8-month-old Amelie "walk" around, and even had some Flaca time. Hope to see them again!
2. A little girl stopped by to play Flaca soon after I had played "Ring of Fire" for the first time. I've been playing simple upbeat songs during Flaca's dance numbers, usually Wallace and Gromit. After, I asked if she wanted to hear a song, expecting a kid's song. She didn't talk, but her dad piped up that she likes Ring of Fire. All right! Played it again and Flaca danced and danced.
3. A guy tipped, and said "More Twin Peaks!" Yeahh! Played him off with Laura's Theme. Americans have really been put to shame on this one!
4. Two folks walked by with what I guessed to be a cello and guitar. Ooh musicians, they'll probably tip! As they walked away I saw the chair, signifying that they wanted to busk. Ha!
5. Flaca kept breaking! I had to untie some of her strings to change her clothes, and I guess I didn't tie them back on strong enough. Two of them slipped out! She could dance with one arm and leg, but not with no head. I'll have to glue them.
6. Right across from where I play at the Saturday market is the East Coast Organics produce stand. One of the guys working had a toddler with him. At the end of the market, the mom showed up and lingered with the kid. He toddled over in his red shoes, blue pants, yellow shirt, and green jacket and checked out my scene. He was unfazed by Flaca, and put his interests towards Flaca's tip box. Specifically, he wanted it closed. But he wasn't interested in rattling the money in it. He ran over a few times, and one point declaring to his mother, "Pennies!"
Packed up when the market was packing up. George wasn't working, (his wife was?) so no will power was required to avoid the haggis.
I stopped on route to my second set on the Royal Mile to eat, and sat on a sunny bench in Grassmarket. I had packed an exciting tupperware full of rice, cucumber, and avocado. When I prepared it in the morning I thought I was was a genius, pretty much making veggie maki without the seaweed. Delicious. A few hours later, the avocado was all brown and the cucumber had been softened by the warm rice--ew!
As I basked in the sun with my legs up on the box, a man stopped and commented on the box. He was wearing a warm tweed jacket over a yellow shirt, and looked sort of like an old version of a young Dustin Hoffman, without looking much like Dustin Hoffman. This was an interesting conversation. I wish someone had written it down verbatim.
He introduced himself, and tried to guess what was in the box. He had quite the time of this. "Does it explode?" No. "It's a love bomb. Do you know what that is? It's when you bomb somebody because you love them." Then he guessed art, but I swayed him to music. He never guessed musical instruments. Once he knew it was music, he wouldn't budge on the fact that it was either a stereo, a jukebox, or a jack-in-the box. "Does it spin?" No. "Then it pops up." Nope. "The cool thing is something that I do, not that it does." "Oh, so it's manual. A hand-cranked phonograph." NO!!! He kept circling these options, and I told him he was missing a major category. Once he knew it was an instrument, he went through every section of the orchestra: brass? woodwind? strings? What stringed instrument fits in a 17" x 17" x 6" box? Is it an instrument that originates in America? No. Then he guessed everywhere in the world except Europe. Had to give him that one. He got it! He then commented on the aboriginal art motifs on the box. Australian aboriginal art. On the sides. I peered at the right side. "No, this side!" The sides are identical! And definitely not aboriginal Australian motifs. He asked why I had chosen Scotland to play, when I could go anywhere. Like...Mexico! I said "I'd love to, but unfortunately I have to choose places with lots of expendable income and rich tourists if I'm going to get by." He agreed with this, stating his own experience. He's Australian, and he's working for the Scottish government. He chose this job because they paid best! He had gotten offers all over...Botswana. "Botswana may have elephants, but it doesn't have money!" "Elephants don't pay!"
Anyway, continued on! Once again everyone was out on the Royal Mile. Dieter in silver, Charlie Chaplin, bagpiper, a guitar and violin duo, and then four girls singing right across from where I wanted to go! I probably should have listened to them, since female vocal quartets are my number one favorite thing in the world, but I was frustrated! I was at North Bridge by then, so I figured I would just go over to New Town and try Rose St. Luckily it started raining!! I secretly love when it rains, because it means I get to stop. I ducked into Sainsbury's to see if they have Rice Milk (so far Waitrose is the only supermarket to have Rice Milk WITH Calcium, and they're no longer my local stop now that I've moved!). By the time I got out, it had stopped raining. It was too early to bail if it was clear. There were some people out on Rose St., and I actually got a good spot. It was the spot I started at before that homeless man yelled at me previously. He wasn't out though (maybe because of the rain?), so I jumped on it. I was a little worried that the guitar player a block away would get mad, and then karma did its duty when the sitar player set up equidistant to me as I was to the guitar player. Fine.
I only have five notes here, so this should be quick!
Saturday 3 March 2012, Part II
1. The hen parties were out and about! One seemed to be "cowboys and indians" themed. They certainly responded to "Here Comes the Bride." The prospect of this song being recognized always gives me my least favorite, tempo-raising, brow-moistening adrenaline rush! So annoying!
2. Some preteen girls wearing Justin Bieber t-shirts came over and asked if I knew any Justin Bieber. I don't! They told me to learn "Baby." I think I'll give in and do just that.
3. A little boy holding a fake severed hand. I've seen kids walking by holding some crazy stuff, but this was a first!
4. Another problem: it seems that the gold grate on my accordion is eroding Flaca's cheek in the box. I noticed the red dust on the accordion, then saw the damaged cheek. It's always something!! I have to stop putting so much stuff in that box.
5. Nice moment: a woman stopped by who looked down on her luck. Few teeth, ratty hair and clothes, the works. She was so incredibly sweet. She just adored Flaca, and went on about how lovely she is. "Where did you get such a lovely doll?" "I got her in Mexico!" "Oh, how lovely! I've been to Mexi...well, Greece!" "Look her just sitting there, watching the world go by! Lovely like her mama!" "I'll have to tell me daughter about this lovely girl!" She had a heavy accent, but I was able to understand most of it. She said she'd love to give me something, but didn't have enough even to eat. She promised we'd see each other again, and instructed me to keep it up. This interaction really stayed with me; thinking about how people react to the less privileged. Obviously this isn't news to anyone, but why can't we show some compassion? This woman obviously has enough love to go around, so why can't everyone stop and have a decent conversation with her? I wonder what happened to her. Where's her daughter? I hope I see this woman again, and try to help her in my own way.
One last thing: I hate the wind!!! I've supported the loans sign with a string, always stand on my set list to not lose it, and I've rubber banded my Let's Go Europe book/Flaca's stand after the blowing pages last weekend. But yesterday it kept taking my S^3 sign!! Argh.
That's all. Didn't busk today, probably not going to. It was raining before, and now it's not but there are certain things I must do like talk to my parents and practice for choir practice tonight!!
Thanks for reading, and sorry for all the inevitable typos! (Inevitable because I tried to speed through today's posts and didn't proofread.)
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