Elf Final

That's a wrap for the 2012 Christmas season!  I went against what I always say about big [holiday] weekends (busk no matter what) and sat the final weekend before Christmas out.  I contracted a cold, it was quite cold out, and also my brother was home and I didn't want to miss out on family time!  Oh well.

I did go out Thursday night, though, in case the world did indeed end the next day.  Here's what happened:

Thursday, December 20, 2012:
 I had no trouble getting my spot, even though I stopped at Sam's for pizza before setting up.  I like that a bunch of the Sam's employees recognize me now, including the guy who rang me up.  "It's you!" he said, before asking, "Anything for the little one?" meaning Flaca, of course.  I said she's vegetarian.  And so we sat up.

1. A guy dropped me a tip and said, "I'm still paying you for 'Paint it Black!'"  I knew that song would be a hit!

2. I also got a tip specifically for Tico Tico.  The guy was surprised I knew it, and said someone used to play that song on the accordion.  (It's been a week, I forget the details).  He also hung around and sang along to PIB and La Vie en Rose.

3. Another woman commented on "Parlez-moi d'Amour," saying that it is her favourite song.  Funny, Europeans comment on Twin Peaks but not a French classic, Americans are the other way around.

4. Speaking of which, I play the Twin Peaks theme here just so people will recognize it, and no one has in the US. But it's huge in Europe!  Weird.

5. A middle-aged man and his daughter about my age stopped by, and the man said that he plays accordion.  Nice!  But then he suggested he play and bring in lots of tips, and his daughter got really embarrassed and tried to rush him along.  It's a nice idea, but I get tipped for my costume anyway!

6. A man stopped and said, "I like this design, but as a business man, I see one problem: if someone tries to steal your tips, you're tethered to the box and can't run after them!"  Aha.  I hope more people don't notice that.  It's true, however, I have a bunch of top-secret security measures in place.  I told him that, and he added, "How far can you throw your accordion?"  The tethered feet are sometimes annoying, like when a plastic bag blew away and I couldn't easily chase it.

7. Someone who had presumably seen me a few times said, "You're the hardest working busker I've seen!"  Later, someone gave me a similar compliment and said, "How do you do it?  It's nice that people consider the endurance of buskers!

8. A fellow named Scott stopped by to talk.  He's pretty cute and took a business card.  I hope he gets in touch.

9. A lady stopped by and says she's opening a café and wants to book entertainment.  I'd love to!

10.  A nice family stopped by, and the dad held a platter of grapes and cheese and cracker.  Ooh, going to an art opening!  I talked to him a bit, and he dug around for cash but didn't have any.  I asked for a grape which would have been nice after pizza, and he told me to help myself.  Turns out his daughter was performing at the Academy of Music and it was for the food table.  Mmm.

11.  I talked a bunch to a nice man named Bill who I've seen around.  I remembered what we talked about, but I no longer do.  He offered to bring me a hot drink, but a family friend recently had.  He did bring me a delicious cookie, though.

12.  Since it was the eve of the Apocalypse, I played "The Final Countdown" a lot. A couple people noticed!  I'll play it a lot on New Year's Eve too.

It was cooooold!  Thursday night was a little quiet, but I still did okay.  I'll be glad to take a break from my elf shoes, which aren't so good.  I talked to Jesse, the Harp player with whom I first competed for a spot in Ptown.  Good to talk to the old pros.

Now, the elf costumes are going away.  Mine needs lots of repairs, which I'm not going to do.  It will be an unpleasant surprise next December when I see how tattered everything is, but I can't be bothered.  I'll head out New Year's Eve, so I'll see you then!  Also I'll be playing at the Amherst Winter Farmers' Market, and I might keep doing Saturdays in Northampton.  We'll see.

Thanks for a great Elf season, Northampton.
Love,
Sophie and Flaca

"If you were any cuter I'd slap you"

Because the rain and snow are threatening to fall, I am declaring this third Elf busking weekend complete.  It began, of course, on a somber note as I came home on Friday afternoon and heard the horrible news of the school shooting.  Unsurprisingly, I didn't feel like putting on a silly costume and smiling all evening.  But I did anyway, because it was Arts Night Out in Northampton and it would be busy.

But it was actually a lot less crowded than it should have been.  Upon discussion with others who would benefit from what's normally a busy night, it was clear that people would stay home in the aftermath of the tragedy.  Keep their families close and concede the effort to appear cheerful.  I don't blame them.  I debated omitting cheerful songs from my repertoire, or conversely slow ones, and looked for accidental tactlessness in my song choices (like "Stayin' Alive.")  The feedback I got was that it was good to have a source of cheer out there to distract people.  But enough about that.

Favorites in red, since I think this post is on the boring side.

Friday, December 14, 2012
I got my favorite spot outside Faces, but Flaca, as she has been recently, wasn't moving very well.  I lamented the unevenness of the bricks and a young man who was hanging out as I set up suggested I go directly in front of Faces and set up on the sidewalk proper.  I'm not supposed to do that, according to the permit rules, but I decided to go for it anyway.  It was much more level, and she did move a little better, but still not perfectly.  Other problems were that I had painted her wooden controller [black], and it wasn't spinning smoothly.  Also, I had replaced the broken string, but the ratio of lengths between it and the string that controls her arm had changed, so the arm wasn't as fluid.  It was okay, people got the idea.  Downtown Dan was out, of course, across the street, and there was a guy "singing" on my side.  The police were talking to him and I got the impression he wouldn't be out long. 

1. The first of few notable events was a woman with an adorable little white terrier (like the one in "The Artist.")  He just didn't know what to make of Flaca, and flinched every time she moved.  Of course I had fun with this and let her say still for a while then dramatically move to watch the dog's reaction.  After a few rounds of this, he started barking at her, and hilarity ensued.  Cute.

2.  The man who was checking parking meters asked if he could take a photo, and did so.  They're not all bad, I guess!

3.  This is an ongoing thing that I've observed each year that I do this: people compliment my shoes!  Very nice, of course, but do they not notice the rest of the outfit?  And the added thing this year is that people point out that Flaca's and my shoes match.  Again, true, but just the shoes?  Just sort of funny.

4.  I saw a familiar face crossing the street that belonged to a favorite Clark professor of mine, Abbie Goldberg.  I had her for two Psych classes, which were among my favorites.  She and her husband turned right, rather than left and by me, but I yelled over to them anyway and they stopped to say hello.  I began to identify myself and was pleased that Prof. Goldberg remembered me.  She and her husband were both so nice, and invited me to meet up for coffee sometime to discuss my "non-marionette future."  Clark U. seems like centuries ago, and it was really nice to see someone from my academia days, especially someone so nice.


6.  There was a good response to The Final Countdown, as there often is, and one woman asked me to identify the song because it would drive her crazy.  On the subject of that song, my favorite part is when I do one of those crazy keyboard slides between the intro in the verse (the only song I attempt it on).  My dad was staying by watching during this bit, and saw it.  I forgot that The Final Countdown is new since I was home last, and he hadn't seen that.  The slide is the kind of thing he would like.  And sure enough, he did.

5.  My parents brought me some pizza, which I stood and ate.  Some people walked by and one exclaimed, "Eating pizza!  Awesome!" and dropped a tip, as if that was my act.  (It was a joke, of course; they had walked by earlier.)  But funny.

7. The weird singer came by, and displayed this little electronic thing that played music, with presumably accompanied him.  He noticed the Final Countdown as well, and like stood next to me and sang.  Luckily he didn't stay long.

8. After I had been out there for about two hours, the manager of Faces came out and said that I couldn't play in front of her store.  She and I both know that I'm an asset, if anything, to her customer base!  And I was mostly in front of the bank, anyway.  Flaca was the one in front of Faces; she should have talked to her.  So I moved back across the sidewalk to where I normally am, and immediately noticed the decrease in both Flaca's functionality and my ability to balance.

9.  I was pleased to wrap up Friday night with a visit from Aimee, the bearded lady famous for her piercing salons in both Northampton and Provincetown.  I know her from the latter, where she and her bull terrier would routinely walk by and heckle me in the most loving way.

She walked by, as did another young woman I know from Ptown, and it was a delightful little reunion that made me strongly want to go back to the Cape next summer.  They discussed "anti-caroling," where they sing songs including "Anarchy" to the tune of "Jingle Bells."  Aimee took in my setup and said, "If you were any cuter I'd slap you."  Fair enough.  I demonstrated my contribution to the "anti-caroling" revolution by playing my klezmer/minor-key "Deck the Halls."  Aimee sang along in her gruffest, least jolly voice: "Fa la la la la." 

I packed up, explaining that I wanted to leave time to get ice cream before catching my ride (I decided a sad night like that called for ice cream).  I crossed the street, not knowing that my parents were on my heels.  Aimee reportedly saw them notice my absence and declared, "You must be the ice cream connection" before yelling across the street, "SOOOOOPHIIIIIIE!  YOUR MOM'S HERE!"  :)

And that was that.

Saturday, December 15
This was going to be a good day.  The weather forecast looked okay, and it was the penultimate Saturday before Christmas.  I drove into Northampton early to get some stuff done before setting up, and the first available parking spot in the garage was on the roof.  Wow.  I rode the lift back down with an older couple.  The man asked if my box contained presents for him.  In previous years I got a lot more such comments, so I was glad to hear it.  After I told him that it was full of presents for him he asked what was really in there, as they do, and I told him.  He said that he hoped I'd be playing his favorite song when he walked by, and I promised him I would be.

Just as I expected, Downtown Dan was at his spot and Steve was at his/mine.  I knew that Steve doesn't usually stay past 1:00, and I was hoping this would be the case today.  I could do errands for an hour, break my caffeine fast for a chai at the haymarket, then take over at 1:00.  So I struck up a conversation with Steve that would hopefully include the unveiling of his plan for the day.  Sure enough it did, but he planned to leave at 12:00, which was about 5:00 minutes away.  So I ran around doing errands so there would be no idle time at the best pitch in town.  I'm not sure who I was worried might take it, but with all the activity it was worth ensuring that I got it.

Before setting up I ran into a family friend who was out on a yearly shopping expedition with two of her friends during which they wear festive holiday apparel and try to offend as many shop owners as possible.  It seemed like a grand old time.  They agreed to come watch my stuff at some point so I could take a break.

I set up, under the scrutiny of the Faces manager from the night before (seriously), and commenced a record-breaking day.  I had never made it eight hours before, and I now know why.  Ow!

1.  This was a day in which people were most impressed with the mechanics of the puppet (rather than the other aspects of the act).  I got several tips "because it's clever," and had people say they could never multitask like that.  I'm really glad it's getting a good response, because adding Flaca was on my mind for a while and it's nice to confirm that it's worth the extra effort.

2.  There was a lady handing out pamphlets for something, and she was totally in my space.  But I forgave her because I'm an elf.  But then she started "helping!"  She was worried money would blow away, so she picked up the lights and moved them onto bills to weigh them down.  Not only were the lights no longer where they belonged, but the bills were never in danger of blowing away.  I've been in this business long enough to know what caliber of wind takes bills and what doesn't.  So I had to wait for her to turn her back and undo it.  Nice intentions though, of course.

3. Flaca still wasn't moving well, which disappointed me.  I sanded down the controller since the previous night, but she wasn't bouncing back to her original position like she'd supposed to.  I hypothesized that the rubber band wasn't doing its job, although the first rubber band lasted much longer.  There was another on the ground in front of me, so I grabbed it.  It turned out to be a hair tie.  I added it to the setup, so there were two stretchy things, and this did the trick.  It just needed some extra elastic.  She worked great, and I was very happy.

4.  Someone asked me for "Smoke on the Water."  It's not the first time, I really ought to learn the opening.

4.5.  An hour or so into my set, a Salvation Army bell-ringer set up.  She was dressed in holiday accessories, and had a dog wearing reindeer ears.  Cute.  Last weekend the bell ringer was annoying, but I had chosen to set up next to her so I lived with it.  But today I had clearly set up first.  The bell was annoying, and it was competition for money (I feel a little bad saying that, but it's not a charity I support due to their stance on GLBT rights).  I finally had had enough and went over to her.  She smiled and said, "[My dog] is cute, but you two are even cuter!"  Well that's nice, but I was on a mission.  I asked her if there was anywhere else she could go, since I had purposefully gotten there early to get that spot and found it hard to play with the bell ringing, and buskers pay $25 for a permit that clearly states that performers can't use percussion or be within 50 feet.  Why should she be any different?  She said that she was assigned that spot, and couldn't move.  She did give me five minutes of silence though, which was nice.  But this really boiled my blood.  The town organizes them and the a cappella groups to bring bells and music to the streets, which somehow overrule the buskers.  I agree that not all buskers are joyful, but what's the point of enacting permits and restrictions if they're obsolete in the month that matters the most for buskers' income?  I drafted several versions of letters to the editor in my head.  Argh.

5.  Yes, there were more a cappella groups.  The college ones didn't check in with me, just started singing next to me, as they do.  One group said they were assigned my spot to sing, so I asked if it was a 10-15 minute set, like most.  That would be okay, I could get dinner.   But they said it would be for like an hour.  So I just said, "Sorry, I'll be here till 8:00."  Luckily they didn't push it.  Come on, Northampton!  Don't double-book!

5.5.  Someone commented that the previous night he had heard me play "Joy to the World" in minor key.  He asked why.  I told him that people are sick of hearing standard Christmas songs, so the purpose is to mix it up and to tie it into traditional accordion tradition (Klezmer).  "Well it doesn't sound any better" he said.  Some people just don't get it.

6.  A middle-aged couple stopped and listened for a while.  Then the woman asked me how I do minors with a 12-bass.  Ah, a fellow accordion player.  I explained, declaring that I actually play minor sevenths.  "So that's why it sounds jazzy!"  Finally, some positive feedback about having a 12-bass without a jab about it not being a "real" accordion.  See?  It's a jazzy accordion?  She and her husband both play (which triggered me to remember them from last year), and they were super nice.

7.  An older lady asked where I got my accordion, and said that she recently purchased a 12-bass as well.  She played a big one when she was younger, but she's selling it and is seeking lessons on the small one.  She's curious to see if it will all come back.  So I might just give her lessons.  I'm nervous, though!  I expressed an interest in buying her old one, which she describes as being very beautiful, but it sounds too huge and heavy.

8.  An older gentleman took some photos on a fancy camera.  A little while later he walked by, when others were watching, and did this dance move and like puckered his lips.  Cute.

9.  Someone commented on all I do at once, and called me a "musician, puppeteer, and ventriloquist."  Ventriloquist?  Because the puppet's doing the same movements as me, she said.  I should totally add real ventriloquism to the act!

10.  Some kids came by a few times, and danced a little.  So I played the Beer Barrel Polka (which was tricky in gloves!) and their whole family did a big dance number, which amused passersby.  Love it.  Warms me up too!

11.  Two other little girls had come by a few times, and we discussed the setup.  I told them I want to have Flaca do more, and they gave me some suggestions: making her head move around, and possibly inserting a speaker (factor in adorable Rs) so she can talk.  "What song next?"  Good to have feedback from youth :)

11.5  A guy dropped me a tip, and said "This is for playing Van Jealous!"  What the hell is that?

12.  I talked to one guy about favorite foods in San Francisco, and he dared suggested that burritos are LESS filling than Japanese food.  WTF?? 

13.  I'll admit I was suffering a bit by the end.  I've never exceeded like 6.5 hours with a long break in the middle where I sit, but today I did 8 with a quick 10-minute break with no sitting.  I badly wanted to pack up, but decided to push myself till 8:00 to be sure I broke my record (maybe I had done seven hours before).  This act is exhausting, and I hurt everywhere.  I will definitely have to get squishy shoe insoles and start wearing my wrist support again.  I was also cold, for the first time this season, and tried to make my gloves work, which they never do.  I was tired, I was bored, and I was hungry.  I had to remember that people were seeing my act for the first time, so I couldn't look bored.  I didn't want to take a break because I didn't want to lose my spot, and it's a hassle to pack up these days.  I was glad I stayed though, because people are generous in the evenings, and I got the majority of the day's $5-bills in that final excruciating hour.  I wasn't too disappointed when Sunday's forecast was bad so I took that day off!  Phew.

14.  A group of hooligan teenagers stopped to listen for a while.  One of them was really into it, laughing and applauding for "Paint it Black" and "The Final Countdown," which is to be expected.  But then he also reacted the same way to "Funiculi Funicula."  That amused me; what business could a hippie-dressed badass teenager in 2012 have loving a Neapolitan song?

15.  Lastly, a middle-aged man dropped me a tip right as the clock struck 8:00 and I was beginning to pack up.  "Let's hear a song!" he said.  Fiiiiine.  So I played him one, and he stuck around, so I played one more, and then another.  8:05!  I wanted to go home!  But then I had to laugh when he struck up a conversation about food.  About his fancy dinner that night.  It was just like the Ultimate Dog Tease .  There I was, sooo hungry, and he went into great detail about his entree.  "Well that sounds delicious, I'll have to check that place out!"  "Yeah, and wait till you hear what Bob had!"  He gave me detailed descriptions of entrees, starters, and dessert while people within a mile radius heard my stomach rumble.  Ha.  He should have talked about the comfortable seats and ideal temperature, too :)

Then I packed up and limped back to the car (elf shoe is broken again, too) and began to defrost.  These are exactly the kind of days I planned though, to make money while I can.  And I'd rather work really hard one day then take the next day off, anyway.

On another note, I did an exceptional job of pulling up close to the ticket dispenser at the parking garage.  I didn't hit anything, but I was so close that I could casually push the button and get my ticket, then stick it back in upon my departure, without putting the car in park or awkwardly leaning out the window or anything!  I know you're impressed.

One more week till Christmas!  I'll go into Hamp Thursday evening probably, as well as Friday night and briefly on Saturday.  I imagine I'll take Sunday off to hang out with my family and make cookies!  Then the elf costumes goes away again and the piano dress gets some new patches.

Till next time!

"I See a Christmas Tree I Want to Paint it Black"

Hello!  Flaca and I are recovering from an awesome marathon of elf busking in Northampton.  I won't be out too much in winter proper, and I want to take advantage of holiday shoppers, so I'm trying to put in a lot of time these December weekends.  My plan was to play Friday night, all day Saturday, Saturday night, then go up to the uncharted territory of Brattleboro, VT on Sunday since there was a holiday shopping weekend on.  But then it rained Friday night, so I didn't make it into Hamp until Saturday afternoon.

This was certainly enough playing, though.  I'm used to doing these marathons--a 6-hour Saturday followed by a longish Sunday (today was four hours)--but only with accordion.  I hadn't exceeded three hours with the puppet yet, and I hadn't done this much accordion in a long time.  As a result, I'm quite sore.  I'm also okay with having missed Friday night!

Here's what I made:
-US dollars
-€1.00
-£0.10
-One red rose
-One fleece scarf
-One slice of pizza
-One cup of hot chocolate
-One peppermint candy
-One concert ticket
-One book of poetry
And a partridge in a pear tree.

Town was hopping as I arrived, and I decided to try to tune out the Salvation Army bell-ringer outside Faces and set up in my "usual" spot from last year outside Faces as well (but more outside the bank).  The bell ended up being okay, although you couldn't hear Flaca, which is too bad.  Oh well.

This is my favorite pitch because it's by the crosswalk so you get a lot of foot traffic, the ATM attracts people as well, it's under the big clock on the bank building so I can track Time Until Dinner, and, as I learned yesterday, I could see Flaca's reflection in window.  This was cool because I try to avoid looking at her so we appear to be working separately, and usually her loud feet give me the audio cues to know that she's working without having to check.  The bell-ringer rendered that impossible, so getting a visual cue while looking forward was beneficial.

I did about three hours, went to Sam's for a dinner break, then did another three-ish.  I was surprised that it was quite slower in the evening, since usually nights are better.  Flaca looked awesome after dark since I changed the batteries in her spotlights.  Then out with a friend for a drink, since I was sleeping in Northampton, in normal clothes but with elf shoes poking out.  Hey, I have to be recognizable somehow (also, forgot a change of shoes)!  Oh, and here's what we looked like:

Saturday, December 8, 2012:
 1. The first exciting thing is that I saw Camp friends.  I spent two amazing summers in high school working at an awesome sleep-away camp in Brattleboro, and although I'm not actively in touch with people I think very fondly of the people with whom I shared that experience.  This is part of the reason I was excited to play in Brattleboro today had I gone.  But it didn't matter, because I saw TWO camp people, totally separately!  First was Dara whose hair is now magenta, teal, and royal blue (and awesome), and second was Alya and her baby who is now a full-on kid.  So that made me happy.  And Alya's son asked me if I live in the North Pole.  Which I do.

2.  One guy took a look at Flaca and I and said, "I don't know who to watch!" Good!

3.  I heard my favorite compliment indirectly, said by a guy to his friend as they retreated: "I'm overwhelmed by how awesome that is."  Oh no!  I didn't mean to overwhelm anyone!  Is he okay?

4.  I really hate to admit this, but my mother was right about something :(.  And it was a busking-related something, which is even worse, since I insist on being the expert.  For a while I've been thinking about having different tipping options.  At first the idea was to present different reasons for tipping ("For the Music," "For the Piano Dress," "For the 'Twin Peaks' Theme," etc.).  But recently I've thought about offering different uses for the tips, since I have a variety of expenses: Material for Costumes, Student Loan Payments, Workshop in Brazil.  (I have an invitation to attend a workshop in Brazil in March with my Scottish theatre company, but airfare is hefty.)  My mom caught me decorating signs for the washed-out soup cans I was going to use and voiced her concern that it would hurt business.  In Northampton there are a lot of people asking for money who really need money.  The student loans cause is good, because I do HAVE to make those payments, but I shouldn't flaunt the fact that I might spend earnings on a vacation in the tropics.  She did have a point.  So I sneakily bailed on that project ("Oh, look at the time!") and proceeded without the cans.  I realized, however, that I can still use my old student loans sign, and just tape it to the handle of my trolley.  And actually, since my loan payments just increased, I probably won't make it to Brazil anyway, so might as well leave it out of the equation.

5.  On that subject, I got a lot of comments on the loans sign!  There was the usual stuff, asking where and what I studied.   But also one girl said that she has six months till her payments kick in; a man said his two daughters are facing their payments; and two different 60-something-year-old women said they JUST paid theirs off.  Eek!

6.  Two guys stopped to talk, and it became relevant to mention my travels this year.  One of them said, "That's what I need, a woman who likes to travel!"  I told him that solo traveling is actually the best, and his friend confirmed that, that his favorite trips have been alone.  They also asked, like many do, what I studied, so I told them "Psychology."  The other friend said, "Oh good, you can sort this guy out" or something.  Yes I can.

7.  A couple walked by carrying a Christmas tree, and I thought too late to play "O Christmas Tree."  Next time!

8.  This guy watched for a minute, then walked over and emphatically asked, "What kind of Santa are YOU??" in a way that sounded like he had rehearsed it a few times before delivering it.  And he took off, not waiting for an answer (which was good, since I didn't have a clever one).   Hm.

9.  Some people stopped to talk, and asked if I know the band "Those Darn Accordions."  I did, but I had to think for a second.  He didn't mean "Those Dumb Instruments," the Glasgow-based band that eventually beat KAIHO in the final of a big songwriting award (grumble grumble).  "They're based in San Francisco."  Ah, yes!  Must look them up again.

10.  During one of the many conversations about accordions, one man referred to mine as "mini" and a 120-bass as "regular."  IT'S NOT MINI!!!  For the millionth time, 12-basses don't exist to be cute, mini versions of accordions.  What, are non-bass saxophones mini too?  It's just different.  Boils my blood.

11.  Conversely, a woman said it was impressive that I could make that sound with a 16-bass.  So I told her it was a 12-bass!  I explained that I usually move everything to F, and the young man in her party made a sound/facial expression as if to say, "You and me both, sistah!"  I guess it was a family of accordionists. 

12.  On the subject of accordions, I talked to one older man who had a 12-bass like mine when he was a little kid, then a bigger one, then his dad bought him a 120-bass when he was in sixth grade.  He quit in eighth grade, however, since he wanted to play in the school band and they didn't allow accordions (I imagined the six other members of KAIHO having to tune to me, imagine a whole school band).  He switched to tenor sax, which he's played ever since.  However, on his 60th birthday his father got him another accordion.  He thought it would be like riding a bike, but he found it really difficult.  So the second coming was not to be.

13.  I talked to a guy, and he asked what I was doing New Year's Eve.  "This," I replied.  "And after?"  "No idea!"  He said I should come hear his band play.  It turns out his band is The Primate Fiasco!  They are a local "psychedelic dixieland" band that I haven't actually had the pleasure to hear yet.  My parents are fans and they're a household name, so I was excited to meet a member (Dave).  So he gave me a ticket to their New Year's Eve show!  Score.  Plans.  The past two years I packed up then just wandered aimlessly, so this will be an improvement.

14.  Two girls walked up who I think I recognized from last year.  One said, "I have something to tell you."  It turns out she had seen a Missed Connection on Craig's List for me!  I had a little habit of scanning that sight while in San Francisco, since buskers get a bit of attention, but I had forgotten about it since.  This girl had responded, giving the poster the link to my Facebook band page.  I looked for the post today, but it seems to have been deleted.  And no word on Facebook.  Hopefully the person will show himself!  Pretty awesome.

15.  A girl stopped and said, "You should be a holiday card for someone," and confirmed that it was a compliment.  I suppose I should!  She took the photo in this post.

16.  A teenager walked by and declared, "You're my new best friend."  Great!!

17.  A guy stopped by and asked if it was antique (not sure which part).  I said no, and he asked if it was European.  Well, I developed the puppet part while in Europe, so I guess so.  I would like it to eventually look like an old-fashioned European circus marionette theatre thing.  James said that his ex-sister-in-law is a puppeteer, and that she'd like my setup, or something.

18.  I mentioned that I had set up next to a Salvation Army bell-ringer.  Well there was also a woman [from Planned Parenthood] on my other side collecting signatures.  So it was a busy corner!  Then these kids showed up with buckets of like sticks of sugar candy things, asking if people wanted to donate to something.  I suggested that they might want to move down, since there were already three of us and people would have already dropped their change, but they stayed put.  Isn't that a riveting tale?

19. Among the people who walked by was my first "boyfriend" (for about six days), who completely ignored me!  Ouch.

20. A baby and her parents came by, and the baby was enthralled, watching me from her pram and smiling.  I started playing "The Wheels on the Bus," and the dad made a hilarious joke that Barney would come running from across the street, saying, "You can't play that, it's copyrighted!"  The wife, clearly embarrassed, said, "That's not a Barney song..."  The husband must have misunderstood her criticism, because he did the whole skit again but in a voice that sounded much more like the purple dinosaur's.  Ha.

21.  I've been playing my Klezmer versions of Jingle Bells, Deck the Halls, and Joy (Oy) to the World.  Someone finally noticed!  "Cool, slavic Christmas songs!"

22.  There was a strange man walking around.  It's possible that he has Tourette's, and the thing he said most frequently was "kick it."  The longest ramble I caught went something like "Kick it.  I know he hit him, I felt it.  Next slide, please!  Kick it.  50/50.  She's gone.  Kick it.  Well, it pays the bills.  Next slide, please.  Kick it" punctuated with frequently Catholic crosses.  I was nervous when he stopped to talk, but he was actually quite coherent.  We talked about Scotland and the good beer, and he explained why he had been kicked out of the army (I'll spare you the details).  He said he used to play drums in the school marching band but that they got heavy after a few hours.  His sister played the flute, and he wanted an instrument to play so he picked it up.  He demonstrated this by actually taking the flute out of his seemingly-small bag, and played a jazzy riff.  It sounded okay!  Of course, he took breaks both to breathe and to say "kick it."  He took a crumpled rose out of his pack and handed it to me.  It looked awesome lying in front of Flaca today.

23.  One of the many bored dads I saw waiting outside of Faces over the course of the weekend was there for my whole interaction with this guy.  He had walked by a few times before stopping, and the dad and I had made eye contact and acknowledged him.  Then when he was in front of me playing flute, the dad came over and said that he and his family were leaving, and asked if I was okay.  Isn't that nice?  I told him that I thought the guy was harmless, so I should be fine.  He agreed, but said they'd walk slowly in case I needed anything.  So awesome.


That's all for Saturday!  I packed up, thoroughly exhausted, and met Molly.  The next morning I had a serious stretching session, since I was feeling muscles I didn't know existed.  Additionally, my elf shoes aren't the greatest, and my heels hurt.  Better get some gels for next weekend.

Sunday, December 9, 2012:
I headed into town in "normal" clothes.  That is, my fuzzy black sweater dress that I wear under the costume for warmth, full tights, with stripes exposed, elf shoes, normal jacket, jingle bell earrings.  So between the tights, shoes, and earrings, people still caught on that I was an elf.  I went to the bank to deposit the previous day's take, and the teller complimented my earrings.  I had to smile later when I set up directly outside the bank, so he could probably see me in the full attire and understand why I was depositing coins and $1 bills.

Steve, the old guy who plays guitar outside of Faces, was there.  We talked about Europe and stuff.  I went to set up outside Thornes, since it was open, but soon into that set Downtown Dan, the other old blues guitar guy told me that it was his spot.  That Thornes didn't want just anyone playing out there, so they asked him to do the honors.  I went peacefully, since I am just here seasonally, and I don't want to mess up the busker zen.  It was nice to talk to him, though, for the first time.  He suggested I go play at the big intersection with Pleasant St., which I considered.  I always liked playing at a four-way intersection in SF.  I went down there, but it didn't look fabulous, and also it was on a slope which meant Flaca wouldn't work.  So I decided to just set up a little ways down from Steve.  I explained all that to Steve when I walked by again, and he said he was packing up anyway so he gave me his spot.  Very nice.

It was great because there are no bell ringers on Sundays, so I really had that spot to myself.  I played there from about 12:30 to 4:30.

1.  As I was setting up (this was over at Thornes), I realized that Flaca was tangled, so I began untangling her.  "She's tangled, eh?" asked a lady.  "Yeah, but she was fine when I put her away last night."  "I wonder how that happened."  "She probably had a big party."  "Yes, she's been naughty."

2.  When I was about to start playing at my second spot, an a cappella group from Smith started singing right next to me.  I know that town has booked them and that they collect for charity, but they could have greeted me, you know?  Discussed the inevitable turf war?  But they did not.  These are usually short sets, so I rolled with it, but after their fourth song I asked how long they were planning to stay and they were quite cold.  Too bad.

3. "Paint it Black" got a good response today.  Specifically, one woman totally got it, got playing it for the Christmas grumps, and she said it was her perfect Christmas song.  Excellent.

4.  Susan Boss, my elementary school art teacher, and her artist husband Mark Brown stopped by, and I played "Paint it Black" for them.  Susan was quite funny, singing "I have a Christmas tree I want to take it back..."  Ha!  Too bad I don't sing.

5.  "The Final Countdown" went over very well too.  Some people sang along, and one guy said, "'The Final Countdown' made my day."  Dave from Primate Fiasco said it'll be a good New Year's Eve song too.  Good call.  The people who like that song the most are males between the ages of 15 and 30, so I would try to play it for them.  I'm now doing a few measures of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" before going into it, so I'll vamp the former until the pack of boys is right where I want them to be.

6.  Also, my version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" is mathematically challenged.  I'll play just enough measures for there to be only a partridge in a pear tree for the first few rounds, then immediately launch into a long line that must be from "seven swans a-swimming" down.  Good thing no one's counting.

7.  I talked to a guy who reminded me how awesome the movie "Being John Malkovich" is, prompted by the puppet.  I must see it again now that I'm in my puppet years.  He also acknowledged Flaca being "black," and said she looks like Aunt Jemima.  I learned that Aunt Jemima was outlawed at Hampshire College.

8.  A group of ladies in Santa hats walked by.  One said, "You've been hit!" and handed me a cup of hot chocolate.  On it was a label that said: "You've been HIT!  This holiday season we are counting our blessings and spreading some holiday cheer by performing RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS!  We hope you have a spectacular Holiday Season and pay it forward when you can!"  Isn't that nice?

9.  A guy gave me a unique tip: a brand new plaid fleece scarf.  Wow!

10.  I talked to this old guy who was wearing a University of Michigan jacket (go blue!).  It was very hard to understand him, but we managed to have a conversation.  I mentioned Scotland, and he said he'd been when he was in the navy.  That everyone was friendly and would buy you a beer.  He said he went looking for Nessie, so we could talk about that.  This man asked if there was a place to go for a bite to eat, so I sent him to Sam's pizza around the corner.  He came back a while later with a slice of pizza for me!  And he didn't know if I eat meat so he got a vegetarian one!  Isn't that awesome?  As we know from my San Francisco days, pizza is the #1 tip you can get while busking.  Can't be beat.  Fact.

11.  I sort of had to use the bathroom.  I saw another a cappella group coming, but they walked right by.  Really?  I asked them if they wanted to set up there.  They said, "That's okay, we can go somewhere else."  Wow.  Respecting the buskers' space!  But I did fancy a bathroom break, so I asked if they would set up there to guard my stuff while I used the bathroom.  So they did!  They were so nice!  It turns out they are DQ from Amherst College, a group I've heard of because I was in charge of inviting guest groups to my college a cappella group's Fall show.  They also invited me to come sing with them when I got back, which was a blast.  They sang a version of "Eight Days a Week" that was about Hanukkah, and I joined the part of the girl next to me.  I was also trying to figure out a ride home, and I asked them about getting back to Amherst and they were nice about that too.  Totally friendly people.  Nice contrast to the first group.  I miss a cappella!

12. A man saw the student loan sign and said, "Don't become a lawyer!"  I thought that was a hilarious anti-lawyer joke until someone pointed out that he meant it as taking on more debt.  Oh.

13.  A woman stopped at said, "I'm a puppeteer."  I said, "Oh, I'm not" which I thought was clever, but no one else did.  She explained that she's used all kinds of puppets, really big ones, but that she doesn't have them since she just moved back here from Mexico.  "Oh, Flaca's Mexican!" "I noticed," she said.  Good to know Flaca still looks Mexican despite her change of clothes and facial expression!

14.  "This is for the outfit alone."  A comment I get with tips every year.  But today I really thought about it, how I wouldn't actually have to perform to make money.  If the people in stupid store-bought dog or Darth Vader costumes make money on the street without doing anything, which they do, then my homemade elf costume in the holiday season should do well too!  Good to know in case I break an arm or something.

15.  I was talking to someone I know (but I forget who, there was too much to remember!) about my songs, and I mentioned playing minor-key Christmas songs.  This mystery party mentioned "Low," a band that plays slow, depressing versions of holiday songs.  I should look them up.

16.  A lady stopped and asked if I can do Christmas carols.  In the real key, I presume.  Jingle Bells, she wanted, so I managed to play it.  She requested "Little Drummer Boy" but I failed.  I guess I should practice real ones for when the requests come in.  It's still early, though.

17.  The most important string broke :(  This is the one that connects my foot to the controller, which rubs against two eyelets.  The string broke once in Prague around the top eyelet, so I just retied it, so today it broke at the second eyelet.  I tied it back together and managed to limp through the rest of the set.

I need to have a big repair day though because in addition to the string, both of my elf shoes are broken and Flaca's left leg was wonky today.  I'll have to sort that out. 

I'm sure there's more that happened that I'm forgetting but I'm exhausted!  Time to rest my busking muscles!

Till next time.

"Those are Elf Shoes"

Well, the season has begun!  That is, the season of living in an elf costume.  This marks my third December of holiday busking on the streets of Northampton, MA, and Flaca's first. I spent last week making Flaca a matching elf costume out of scraps of leftover material (everything but the stockings), and doing some repairs on the accordion and the box. I planned to play in Amherst at the lighting of the Merry Maple, but it was cold, I had worked all day already substitute teaching, and I wasn't sure if I'd be allowed to set up Amherst, and where I would do so. I stayed home Saturday as well because it was snowing all day, and although that makes for a nice ambiance, accordions don't like getting wet.  So today, Sunday, I located all the pieces of my own costume and drove into town.

Today was also the day of the Hot Chocolate Run, a yearly event in Northampton.  The newspaper said that it generates the second-most foot traffic in Northampton, after First Night.  I was looking forward to that, but by the time I arrived at noon it had already wound down.  There were still some people out, though, and the usual holiday shoppers.  There wasn't a single other performer out that I could see, so I decided to go for the gold and set up right outside Thornes.  I went a little to the side, though, in front of Ted's Boot Shop.  Soon into my set Ted came out and asked if I would move over a little since my audience was standing in the doorway to his shop which he didn't like.  A nice lady helped me move, and Ted even gave me a tip!  And later he walked by again and said, "You gotta sing too!"  Now that's not very grumpy.

I played at this spot for about three hours, playing mostly non-Christmas songs.  The past two years I played pretty Christmas songs, and the act was quite corny.  I decided to pump the breaks on the full Christmas corniness this year, thinking that the costumes were enough.  Also, I can't find the notecards that have the chords to relevant songs written on them.  Something I began to do last year and want to bring back, however, is doing Klezmer/minor-key versions of Christmas songs.  Last year I worked on Jingle Bells, [J] Oy to the World, and Deck the Halls, and I was able to limp through them today.  I hadn't practiced with Flaca, though, so I had to try to incorporate her in on the spot.  My first few attempts were quite bad, as was my improvised normal Jingle Bells for one little girl, so some passersby surely thought I was awful.  My other idea for this year is to appeal to the curmudgeons by playing such songs as "The Final Countdown," "Paint it Black," and "Stayin' Alive."  Furthermore, I want to put these into medleys with Christmas songs: "The Twelve Days of Christmas" into "The Final Countdown," "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" into Paint it Black (because both in Gm, thank you Kush!), etc.  I'll save these for when I have crowds, though, since it's good for people to stay long enough to get both songs and see what I did there.  Otherwise I'm just playing my normal Flaca songs, since they're the ones with which I do her best: Funiculi Funicula, Tico Tico, La Donna é Mobile, etc.  I might try to dust off more pretty ones/singalongs, but for now I'd rather do non-seasonal songs well and let the costumes do the Christmas-ing.

All in all, it was a great first day out, and I'm totally pumped for this season.  Maybe I'll even go back into Boston on weekdays!  Anyway...

Prologue: Busking in America
In addition to being the first Elf busking in a year, today marked my first American busking since last New Year's Eve.  It's sort of cool how weird it was:

i. Earning paper money.  I got used to earning only coins in Europe, which are great when the wind is blowing!  Additionally, it's really cool when, depending on the temperature/location of the sun, you pick them up and they're hot or cold to the touch.  It is also a great feeling walking home with a heavy bag, knowing it was a lucrative day--a phenomenon dollar bills don't provide.  Conversely, it's much easier to grab a wad of bills and tuck them away mid-set than it is to do so with coins.  So that's good.  The main downside of earning US Dollars is that I can't convert my take into US Dollars and get a higher number!

ii.  Everyone speaking English/having American accents.  For my six weeks on the road I was accustomed to most people talking to me in a language other than English, and having to tell them "Ich spreche kein Deutsch" or "Ne mluvím česky" or whatever.  I would quickly rack my brain trying to remember what country I was in so I could say "thank you" in the accurate language, and usually mess it up.  Today, I got to show my appreciation verbally without thinking about it, and I could sound as American as I wanted.  It was nice having long conversations again!

iii.  Seeing people I knew!  Although I got used to seeing "regulars" in Edinburgh, it has been a while since I've run into someone I know whom I did not expect to see while busking.  I was happy to see one good friend, a grade-school classmate, a neighbour, the mother of another friend, and a cousin (although that was planned).  It's a nice way to catch up with people!

Now, onto the good stuff...

Sunday, 2 December 2012
1.  As I was setting up, a woman stopped and said something like, "Oh good, a puppet of color!"  This was interesting, since I hadn't given too much thought to Flaca's race.  I thought it was more obvious when she wore her original traditional Mexican garments,  but now I just think of her as just some little girl.  It wasn't until one of my Spanish roommates in Edinburgh asked if she was Whoopie Goldberg that I realized people would notice her hue.  One fellow busker even suggested that people would find it questionable that I, the Caucasian "boss" had a dark-skinned person under my control.  Luckily no punters have said anything of the sort, so I hope I haven't offended anyone.  If anything, Flaca's the star and she bosses me around!  The only "issue" there is with her skin tone, as far as I see it, is that it's hard to see her face while busking after dark.  For that reason only I was considering giving my next puppet lighter skin.  But if her multi-nationality actually makes people happy, like the woman today, then By George my next puppet will be racially ambiguous as well!

2. I talked a few times to an older woman who stopped by.   "Are you the elf?" she asked.  I said I was.  She took it all in, and declared, "Those are elf shoes."  And she walked away.  The second time she asked if I was Santa's helper.  I said yes, and asked what she wanted for Christmas.  "Santa always brings me nice things," she said with a smile.  Hope that holds up this year!

3. I'll shamelessly say that I got a lot of compliments on the whole setup: my costume, Flaca's costume, and the rig in general.  People in the Valley are artsy, so crafting and sewing and such is well-received.  Made me very happy.  One girl even said something that suggested she doesn't like street performers, but she liked me.  I was called "Very original" on a few occasions.  This was great, since that's what I'm after by using the puppet!  About five minutes into my set, one woman stopped and showered me with compliments.  She ended with, "Your dedication and stamina is inspirational."  How does she know?  Could she tell I was going to stay out for a long time?  Maybe she thought I was someone else who had been out earlier!  Either way, it's nice to feel inspirational :)

4. As I was setting up, a man stopped by and asked me for directions to Broadside Books, which I provided (another nice thing about being home).  Later, he walked by, caught my eye, and said, "Found it!"  I just thought that was endearing.  Phew!

5.  There was one guy hanging out that was a bit sad.  Seemed down on his luck.  He was so friendly, though, and seemed to see me as a comrade since I make money on the streets (I felt bad that I had to ignore some of his questions and chatter mid-song).  He claimed that "Funiculi Funicula" made him feel sad, and asked if I know any Beatles.  We agreed that I would play "Ob La Di," which he said makes him feel better.  Glad to be of assistance!  Also, when I was playing the Godfather theme, he exclaimed, "'House of the Rising Sun,' right on!"  Oops.  I'm sure I'll be seeing more of him.

6.  I talked to another man whose mother is off to Dublin where she will busk!  I told him to warn her that the restrictions in Dublin are many, but he said she's been going on and off for years so she knows the drill.

7.  Yet another man hung for a while, and he dropped in a peppermint candy and a packet of foot-warmers!  He remembered me from past years, and asked if I was going back to California.  Coool.

8.  A middle-aged couple tipped, and said, "We especially liked 'Speak to Me of Love.'  It's one of our favourites!"  Ah, yes....I figured this was another "House of the Rising Sun."  Then I remembered that "Parlez-moi d'Amour" is in fact "Speak to me of Love."  Right, "Yes, it's one of my favorites too!" I yelled after them, minutes later.

9.  Some teen boys walked by a few times, and one of them dropped a few coins each time, sending his friends into greater fits of laughter each time.  It was nice though, even teens in the Valley are cool.

10.  "Stayin' Alive" was recognized for its second time, by a mother with a baby!  Glad she liked it, and maybe saw the Christmas relevance in it?

11. New "unhelpful patron" award goes to the lady who recognized her friends and stopped them right in front of me to chat, obscuring me from view for a while, didn't notice, then drove her baby's stroller right into the box.  Thaaanksss.

12.  Someone pointed out that I look like Mrs. Claus, but I just need some red!  Eek, my fears about aging are confirmed!

13.  I decided to try to use my student loan sign, since it goes over well in Hamp.  One guy saw me trying to stand it up and fetched me some tape from Thornes.  Awesome.  People did comment, appropriately laughing when I told them I studied Psychology.  One asked if I graduated, saying that at least I had that.  True.

14.  A nice couple stopped for a while and we discussed my act.  They wanted to hear a song, so I gave them the option of "pretty holiday," "minor-key holiday," or "non-holiday."  The man said to surprise him, and the woman said that, knowing her husband, all that matters is passion.  So I should play something I know well.  So I did the "God Rest.../Paint it Black" medley.  It went over pretty well!  And nice and passionate, I hope.

15.  Some Carolers set up across the street, including a couple people that had already been by and talked.  I was worried when I read in the paper about scheduled holiday a cappella groups performing on the street, since they would trump buskers.  This group was okay, though, but it would have been bad if I had been across the street, where I often set up last year.  Eek!  The thing in the paper promoting the groups gushed that they would "bring music to the streets," which hit a nerve for me.  What do you call the thing the street musicians bring to the streets?  I'm tempted to write a letter to the editor reminding readers of the impact these groups have on the buskers who count on holiday shopping income, but I don't want to sound totally douchey since the singers collect for charity. 

I packed up because I was hungry, and it was time to jingle up the hill to Smith college to hear my cousin sing in the choir.  I was glad to see other buskers on my way: this other guitar player I saw a lot last year as well as Jesse the harp player who I knew first from Provincetown.  Next time I'll stop and chat!

Despite my surges of "reverse culture shock," the first Elf busk of the year reminded me that I am, in fact, glad to be home.  Let's hope for good weather next weekend to continue the festivities!

On the Road

Hello,
I unfortunately got lazy (well, had no computer nor time) while traveling to keep the blog updated about busking, so here is a big catch-up.  This is the "table of contents" linking you to four posts from four countries.  I have ranked them by level of relative interest, with four stars being the least boring post:

1. **Berlin und "Brazil" describes boring Halloween busking in Berlin and busking, an indoor gig, and puppets in Lübeck, Germany.

2. ***Sofas in the Wind is from Copenhagen, which was a fun day out just playing accordion.

3. *Norway is short, since I didn't busk.  Just mentioned my fictional festival to trick my family.

4. ****Not Freezing to Death is the best, since it documents my final night in Europe where I was moved by the kindness of strangers in a very cold Iceland (so read this one).

Now that I'm caught up, I can go start another year of Elf business!

Love,
S+WR+F

Not Freezing to Death (Reykjavik)

Reykjavik: 20 November 2012
(This post was originally written on the day in question, hence the tenses.)

I must preface this by saying that I don't think I've loved my accordion more than I do tonight.  There's nothing like getting "the boss" out of a jam (although I think Wee Red is the boss).

It was my final day in Rekjavik, and the first thing on the agenda was to buy my mother an Icelandic hand-knitted sweater.  But my card was declined.  I texted my brother to look up my bank balance, and it was not quite the number I was hoping for.  I know it's personal and stuff to talk about money, but since spending all one's money on travel isn't really a shock, I'll reveal the sum: $4.63.  Insert swear of choice.  I had been traveling quite frugally, but I got back into tourist mode in Iceland, paying for accommodation for a change, paying for tours, etc.  The plan had been to buy a bunch of gifts, pay for one more night at the hostel in a dorm, pay extra on top of my airport bus ticket to get to the Blue Lagoon spa before my flight the next day, and pay the hefty admission fee there.

With $4, I could beg someone at the hostel to let me use their computer to post an SOS on CouchSurfing and try to find a place to sleep, skip the gifts, skip the Blue Lagoon, and just hang out in Reykjavik until it was time to take my pre-purchased bus to the airport.  I thought hard about how to obtain funds immediately.  The solution dawned on me far later than it should have: go busk, you half-lighthouse!*  (*The Icelandic word for "half-lighthouse" means "idiot.")  I didn't know for sure if I would make money, since there were not a lot of people milling about.  It was also incredibly cold and windy.

I asked some Italians in the hostel to translate the instructions on my foot-warmers that I bought in Germany, put on my extra leggings and socks, and headed out.  At this point my trolley was functional only because of a slab of wood attached to the remains with duct tape and gorilla glue, so it was a sight.  One of Flaca's pulley/eyelets had snapped off as well, so a paperclip glued onto the box had to suffice for this day.

"Town" was indeed desolate.  Reykjavik is tiny, and adorable, with two main shopping streets that lead "downtown."  I found my ideal location at the intersection of those two streets, but the ground was steeply slanted which would not work for Flaca.  I considered just playing, sans puppet, but decided I needed my full artillery for such a situation.  Also, this was the grand finale of the trip, so I wanted her to participate.  My eyes settled on this strange thing, like a big metal box.  I suppose it functions as a bench in the warmer seasons, but it would be a perfect stage due to its levelness.  And the height would attract extra attention, and people would be able to see Flaca.  It was across the street from a Viking-themed gift shop that had its door open, but I thought I would try my luck.  I set up, catching the falling pieces and borrowing duct tape from the trolley to try to make everything last until I got home.  I reluctantly shed my bulky coat, and stuck the foot-warmers on the back of my hands.

What ensued was the best outing of the trip.  People were not actually as scarce as I had expected, and they certainly did tip.  Locals, tourists, young and old, men and women.  Some naughty-looking hooligans who shouldn't be interested in accordions nor puppets lingered, watched, and tipped.  A highly-fashionable, made-up, artificial blonde in heels with a sour facial expression (my smallest demographic of tippers), even dropped me something.  There were bundled up toddlers, old ladies with either fur hats or furry hair, obvious American baby boomers for whom I played "Paint it Black."  And....

1. One girl about my age stopped during "The Final Countdown."  She had blue and green hair, many piercings, and wore an eclectic outfit.  She came forward to tip, said "Sorry, I don't have anything smaller," and handed me a 5.000ISK bill.  What does she mean by"sorry?"  That's about £25.  Definitely the biggest tip I've gotten in a while.  She introduced herself as Sina or something, short for Sinøgåbjork.  She came back later, and I played my newest song, "Stayin' Alive," which no one had recognized thus far.  "I love the Bee Gees!" she proclaimed through applause after.  I asked if she had any requests, and she said Marvin Gaye.  Sorry!  Bill Withers?  Ain't No Sunshine?  Excellent, that's a song I know very well through singing it a capella for four years.  I attempted it, but bombed.  Another older man was listening at that point, so I bailed and struck up something I know.  Sina or whatever bade me farewell.  What a kind and generous person!

2.  The old man asked, "You're begging for money?"  "I'm playing for it, trying to earn it."  We discussed my home location, intentions, and temperature.  He seemed to accept the act well enough.

3.  A mother and daughter (12?) from Colorado stopped by.  They are super nice, and we talked about my travels and stuff.  They tipped, and the daughter said, "Good luck not freezing to death!"  I'll need it!

4. These two little girls walked by, seemingly on their own  One reached into her box and deposited a little pink candy.  Delicious!

5.  The Italians from my hostel came by, including one with an inexplicable eye patch.  I played Funiculi Funicula for them, but they didn't seem to notice.  They did, however, invite me to have pasta with them in the hostel later that night.  That made me look really cool in front of the other passersby.

6.  Two college-aged girls stopped by, and one said "I wish I had more" as she dropped coins in.  Nonsense!  Later, they came back and handed me a hot drink.  So nice!  But probably coffee, right?  No!  Hot chocolate!  Cue heart swelling.

7.  A girl about my age asked where I was staying, then said she was going to invite me over for a cup of tea or something to eat  how nice!  Turns out she's Baha'i, and lives with a bunch of Baha'is.  She emphasized that they are creative people and would like me.  She gave me her number and said to call her any time if I needed anything at all.  Iris.  So nice.

8.  Some older Icelandic women walked by and asked, "Kåld?" or something.  I looked puzzled, so someone translated: "Cold?"  Ah!  I thought of something semi-clever that I hadn't used before: "I'm okay, but Flaca's cold.  She's got bare legs!"  They liked it.

9.  A young British guy walked by a couple times, and used his fancy old-fashioned camera to take photos.  In his last passing he expressed his surprise that I was still out, and offered to give me his gloves.  He actually wasn't the first to make such an offer.  I had gloves, but I was juuust warm enough to not want them.

10.  An American man asked how long I'd be out, saying he had to return to his hotel room for money but he wanted to help me out.  I had been about to pack up, but I said "Maybe 20 minutes."  he was not back in that time and I wanted to pack up.  Oh well.  But as I was closing down, I heard a voice, "I said I'd be back!"  There he was!  Gave me a US fiver.  Score.

11.  Two ladies working nearby came outside a few times to smoke, and they danced along.

12.  An old man walked by while I had a bit of a crowd, and he loudly and enthusiastically clapped along to Funiculi Funicula.  Like, rhythmically.  It was awesome.  So I skipped the fermata at the end.

13.  One baby watched from its pram, then was taken out  I mentioned something about dancing, and started the Beer Barrel Polka, which is very hard with frozen fingers!  The kid didn't dance, so I started to bob a little while playing.  Another man watching got the hint and started bobbing too, btu the kid wasn't keen.  Ah, well.

14.  People in cars rolled down windows, acknowledge me, etc.  One guy on a bike tipped in transit.

I was cold, but it wasn't the coldest I'd ever been.  The wind was significantly less than what it had been for the bulk of my visit to Iceland, and my new act keeps me much more active than my old act.  For these reasons, I was okay in 2.5 sweaters and no gloves.  It was a good reminder of what I have coming.

Anyway, I was walking on air as I stiffly and coldly retreated back to the hostel.  The kindness, concern, and generosity of the Icelandic people had truly moved me.  I had hoped to earn the equivalent of €20, to pay for the hostel, and expected to freeze and get moved on.  Instead, I received a five-digit sum (in ISK, that is) and all the aforementioned goodies and incidents of kindness AND no one gave me any trouble.  I felt the strongest surge of love and gratitude to my accordion.  I truly felt like this one was her doing.  I loved the people of Iceland, of Scandinavia, of Europe, of Earth.  Mostly, I loved busking.  I was just so proud to be a busker, an identity that is often rocky.  Mostly, I was filthy rich!  What a wonderful way to end my Big Europe Adventure.  I could now go home, after paying for my hostel in coins, of course.  Catch you next time, Europe.

On the Road

Greetings, after a bit of a hiatus! I am now back in the US after an exciting finale to my time in Europe.  I got lazy about blogging along the way, so this will be a long post sharing my experiences in Berlin, Luebeck, Copenhagen, Oslo, and Reykjavik.

Norway: Nor Busking, Nor Festival

Norway, November 2012

After Copenhagen, I headed North to Oslo, the penultimate city on my trip.  I planned to busk, and brought my gear out one day, but it didn't work out and my faulty trolley drove me nuts.  You see, as the doors closed on the train that would take me away from Copenhagen and my heart broke (sorry, a bit extreme), my trolley did as well.  The bar that supports the weight on the ground snapped, so there was no way to prop it up.  I could lean it backwards against something and hook the handle for support, but if I went the other direction it would just get out of control and roll and injure both my feet and anyone in a close proximity.  As you can imagine, dragging it around for a day was quite unpleasant, and I didn't even busk.  Before I left the country I had a serious gorilla glue, using it and duct tape to attempt to attach some scrap wood to the trolley to make it stand up.  It actually did last until I got home, although I had to un-tape bits to collapse it into the airplane overhead compartment. 

Like Berlin, Oslo would have been better busked in a side neighborhood, although there isn't a particularly large number of people there to start with.  As it is, every inch of the pedestrian shopping street, Karl Johans gate, had a busker: a gypsy-type with an accordion.  Maybe you'd see the odd saxophone or violin, but the vast majority had squeezeboxes.  One such accordion player was accompanied by a very theatrical woman playing the tambourine and grinning broadly.  I liked them.  But I literally could not get a spot anywhere there.  I tried again later in the afternoon, but it was still full, and mostly with the same people.  Phew, putting in full weekdays in the cold!

I ended up not busking at all, but luckily my Danish Krona-turned-Norwegian Krona lasted me just long enough to stretch my no-ATM goal. 

There's one more thing I'll mention in the Norway section: the fictional Bergen Accordion Festival!  My homecoming, on the eve of Thanksgiving, was done in such a way to surprise my parents.  My brother and I plotted the perfect plan for months, but I needed a good reason to "miss Thanksgiving."  What we thought of was a career opportunity that was too good to turn down.  And so I told my parents that my accordion idol, Jetty (exists) and I had met at the Fringe in Edinburgh (true), that she had heard me play (false), and that she invited me to play at this First Annual Bergen Accordion Festival (false, does not exist).  I knew I had to express feelings about the impending show in my detailed emails home, so I planned the repertoire Jetty and I would do, and further announced that I had been added to the children's program as well.  My parents understood that this was worth missing the holiday, and spread the news of the festival to various family friends.  My mother returned feedback from various people with experience in Bergen, exclaiming that it was a fairy-tale town and that I was going to love it.  Muahahaha.  I am disappointed to not have seen Bergen (that's another story), but I am pleased that the surprise went over well.  Maybe now I will start a Bergen Accordion Festival!

Sofas in the Wind (Copenhagen)

Oh....Copenhagen.  My amazing week in Denmark began with a fabulous busking session right when I arrived.  In fact, I think enough happened to swing a normally-formatted post with a numbered list and everything.

Køpenhavn: 4 and 9 November 2012
Valeria and I pulled into Copenhagen Central Station and decided to hop on buses to our respective destinations: her hostel and my CouchSurfing host's home.  However, the bus meant getting money, and it was Sunday and there didn't seem to be any Bureaus-de-Change open near the station.  Since I had a mishap with my bank card (accidentally shipped it from Scotland to the US), I didn't have access to an ATM for the first three weeks of my trip.  I earned money by busking, then changed that money from Euros to Czech Krona back to Euros, and I intended to change what was left into Danish Krona.  Despite retrieving my card in Berlin, I aspired to complete my whole trip without using an ATM (I made it until Reykjavik, but unfortunately caved).  Since I couldn't change money, the only way to pay bus fare in Copenhagen this day was to withdraw money from an ATM then change it to coins in a bar somewhere.  Orrrrr, to go busk.  Additionally, it was a beautiful day, much warmer than Germany, and busking is a great introduction to a city.  And so I said goodbye to Valeria and went out to find a spot on Strøget, the pedestrian shopping street.

When I had taken about ten steps, a man outside a cafe got my attention.  He asked if he could take my photo, since I was very colorful.  It's true, I was wearing my piano dress with clip-on flowers in my hair and red lipstick, wearing my green backpack covered in flag patches, and towing my colorful accordion box with my red coat strapped in.  This was nice, because he and his two friends were really friendly about it, and the guy looked super Scandinavian.  It was my first impression of Danish people, and Scandinavians in general, and it was a good one!  Here's the photo he took, which he sent over:

I kept walking, passing a group of traditional Andean buskers and a couple men on guitars.  I chose a spot just far enough away from one guitar player, in front of a closed jewelry shop.  I didn't expect to stay long because it is a popular busking street and I was right across from a store with an open door, but no one gave me any trouble.  It was also mostly flat enough for Flaca's mechanics to work!  I arranged my luggage and unnecessary outerwear and got to work.

Things were weird with Flaca.  For whatever reason, she was incredibly quiet.  Her appeal is mostly visual, but I count on the sound coming from her feet both to attract attention and also as a cue for me if she is working, so I can look out at people rather than at her.  She wasn't moving perfectly either, probably because the rubber band was on its way out.  Mostly, she wasn't attracting attention.

I decided to do my old act.  One gimmick of that act is the student loan sign which isn't great on the road, being in English.  Everyone speaks English in Copenhagen, though, so I decided to display everything.  It was so nice doing the old stuff!  There are so many songs I haven't played for a couple months now because they don't work with Flaca, or I just haven't worked them out yet with her.  I've missed them!  I decided to take advantage of my fresh slate in the new town to get super into it, focusing on my full performance and trying to play off people.  It paid off, and this act attracted more attention than Flaca's.  Since I hadn't seen Danish money yet, I had no idea what tips were worth as they came in, so I couldn't estimate earnings.  In the end it wasn't a hugely lucrative day, but it solved the initial problem of not having any currency and it was super fun.

1.  An Irish family stopped by twice: two adult males and about four little boys, wearing matching tweed caps.  They asked if I speak English, then asked if I know Irish tunes.  I said I could do "Whiskey in the Jar," which they approved.  I hadn't done it since St. Patrick's Day so it was rusty, but that mattered not since one little boy took over singing.  So precious!  They stopped again on their return trip and asked me to play another.  I chose "The Wild Rover" this time, and a couple measures in, mentioned singing.  I told the one boy that he had a much better singing voice than I, so he should sing, but the little munchkin insisted that I do the vocals as well.  This is not something I usually do, but I raised my voice in a little sing-along.  I secretly hoped the Irish pub across the street would hear this commotion and pay me to play inside.  These boys were lovely, and it was a nice interaction!

2.  I got a tip from a lady who looked to be very typically Danish.  She was an older woman with long grey hair, wore a dress, and rode a typical vintage-style bicycle with a basket with flowers woven in.  Her warm smile and words were another vote towards Danes being Great.

3.  A teenage hooligan walked by with his friends during "The Final Countdown" and he gave me a typical rock star pose and hand gesture.  Nice.

4.  A middle-aged couple stopped, and we talked.  "What is it called?" the woman asked.  "An accordion!"  "But what exactly would you call one of that size?"  "A red 12-bass piano accordion."  She explained that she used to have an accordion and has recently thought about picking it up again.  I explained that mine was from eBay; a gift from my parents.  "You have nice parents!" they exclaimed.  "Yeah, well when they bought it they didn't expect me to end up playing it on the street in Copenhagen!"  Hee hee.

5.  Another busker band set up quite close on my other side: accordion, double bass, and a third.  I'm sure they were great, since I love that kind of thing, but they were so close!  But they packed up quite quickly.

6.  The first Great Dane I had met stopped by again, and this time saw everything unpacked.  He took another photo:

7.  A [crazy woman] walked by, muttering, "...taking the energy out of the women and putting it on sofas in the wind."  You tell 'em.

I packed up for the sanity of shop workers, but it was getting busier on the streets!  I was going to do another set with Flaca because it was dark and the lights would add to the effect, but I wouldn't really find another spot.  Also, I was looking forward to meeting Henrik, my seemingly adorable host :).  I saw a few other buskers: a juggler doing a big circle show, a guy who had walked past me playing guitar and singing with lots of equipment and selling CDs.  Over the course of my week there I heard a man playing "Memory" on the clarinet about fifteen times.

I didn't busk again for a few days.  We did, however, record a video on election day.  I went out again the following Friday, for a brief set in the late afternoon hours.  This time I set up on another pedestrian shopping street where I had previous seen buskers and high school students selling various goodies as a fundraiser.  Oh, a youth/high school choir had been out at one point.

This set was quite bad.  I forgot about the previous reaction to Flaca and used her, but I made very little money.  I did attract attention, and had a lot of strollers halted to watch.  Kids did look around the back, as they do best, but their parents didn't always give them something to throw in.  This was probably a bad time of day, when folks were going home, but it was still disconcerting.  Copenhagen's a cool place, why the bad rates?

I may possibly go back though, because my host turned out to, in fact, be adorable in real life.  If I do go back I will seek non-shopping pitches and try to find the best possible act for this city.  Regardless of the lack of money made, busking in Copenhagen was great.

Berlin und "Brazil"

Germany, oddly enough, is the country in which I have busked in the second-most locations, after the US: I hit three cities in the Spring, and two more in the Fall!  This post is about boring, disappointing busking on Halloween in Berlin, and nice busking in addition to a gig and puppet inspiration in Lübeck.  So here we go!

BERLIN: 31 October 2012
My stay in Berlin overlapped with Halloween.  Since America rules the world, I assumed the celebrations would match those expected in the US: kids with parents, packs of drunk people, etc.  I would raid my Couch Surfing host's closet and put together a costume, or just play up the piano dress.  I would surely earn a fortune.

If Halloween was a big deal, it was well hidden.  I brought my kit with me all day, mainly because it was really nice out, and planned to play for tourists before finding a good spot to set up for the evening.  In reality, there is not much to report.

I headed straight for the Brandenburg Gate, a tourist-ridden area at which Pockets had set up recently.  There is an island between two roads leading up to the gate that is filled with "buskers," people in stupid store-bought costumes accepting tips.  A significant amount of this space was taken up by demonstrators as well, so spots were few.  I asked a bear if you need a permit, and he said yes, definitely.  I considered setting up anyway, but there was an exceptional number of police officers around.

I walked down the Under der Linden boulevard and saw the potential of playing near the queue for Madame Tussaud's.  I found a good spot and set up.  Right as I was ready to play, a man came out of the building behind me and said I couldn't play there.  Flashed a vague badge in case I questioned his authority.  Fine, but he could have told me sooner, since he could clearly see me set up through the big window!  I moved a block away and set up, fitting in a few run-throughs of Flaca's set.

This was okay, I made a few tips but nothing much.  Some old ladies loved it, and a few families with children stopped.  One teenage boy actually held money above the box, then said, "Nope" and kept walking.  I made sure to yell after him and make him reconsider his treatment of buskers.

I packed up because I remembered I had to make it to the US embassy to vote before it closed.  After that fiasco (they not only wouldn't let me use the printer and scanner, but the German security guard physically escorted me out) I didn't put in a real session.  I planned to, being Halloween and all, but the stars weren't aligned to find a good spot.

I did set up briefly in front of the cathedral at dusk.  This was a good spot: tourists, on a busy street, people waiting for buses.  I got a bit of attention, and, more importantly, instigated a serious make-out session with my romantic accordion music.  But then another busker set up on the other end of the Dom courtyard with an electric guitar and amp and commenced the loudest set I have ever heard.  There was no possible way of continuing.

I kept walking, and soon crossed a cute bridge going over the canal.  It was full-on sunset and quite pleasant out, so I decided to try my luck a third time.  There were stalls on each side of the bridge selling furry hats and tacky WWII plastic memorabilia, so I seemed in good company.  Flaca looked nice with the lights on, but this still wasn't great.  The sidewalk proved to be too narrow to effectively draw spectators, and the ones who did stop stood in the bike lane, which is no good.  A police car stopped across the street, and I had the idea to turn off Flaca's lights and keep a low profile.  Sure enough, the vendors also threw sheets over their wares and looked away, whistling (or the equivalent).  I decided to just pack up then anyway.

Now that the sun was down, it was time to get into Halloween mode.  I stopped in Alexanderplatz, but there just weren't people out.  I figured a regular neighborhood with bars and restaurants would be better, so I went back to the neighborhood where I was staying.  It was early, but it was pretty desolate, and so I gave up.

I think Berlin is comparable to Boston and San Francisco in that way: good place to busk as long as you don't do it downtown.  I'm sure Berlin has neighborhoods comparable to Cambridge and the Castro, but I simply didn't know what they were.  Big cities require research, which I hadn't really done.  And so I dismissed my vision of awesome Halloween busking with lots of characters and stories and laughs. What I did do, though, from a dingy internet café that had visits from a few young Trick of Treaters, was VOTE!  Yay!

LÜBECK: 2 November 2012:
I wrapped up Berlin (by which I mean declared that this visit wouldn't really work out and that I must return under other circumstances) and headed to Lübeck, in the North of Germany.  This was a much-anticipated stop, since it was totally random.  I had originally planned to go to places I had heard of, Hamburg being my stop in the North, but the more I read about it the less appealing it seemed.  Each of the guidebooks I skimmed before departing had a small blurb on Lübeck, but each made it sound appealing, boasting its famous marzipan, cute churches, and renowned puppet museum  Sounds good, right?  Mostly, this trip taught me that I much prefer small towns, so why not go to random ones?

I arrived in Lübeck on a Friday afternoon, in the company of an awesome Italian-Swiss friend I made on the train, Valeria.  I love being a solo-traveler, but meeting this amazing young woman with similar interests and travel style was so wonderful at this stage of the trip.  I wasn't planning on busking that evening, rather saving it for a big Saturday, but it made sense to once I learned of the rainy weekend forecast.  There is a lot I could say about Lübeck, but I will split it into three performance-relevant blurbs: busking, the gig, and the puppet museum.

I. Busking
It seems that I don't have notes about this, so I will have to try to remember.  Valeria and I had been out shopping earlier (needed a coat before I got to Scandinavia), so we scoped out one of the main pedestrian streets.  Although I try to avoid shopping streets, this seemed like my best bet in a town of that size.  There was certainly foot traffic, and ample space to set up.  We had seen several buskers: one guy with curly hair playing both accordion and trumpet, an old man playing accordion, a few young male guitar players, a young woman playing the bagpipes (a tune I recognized from the streets of Edinburgh), and a guy producing huge bubbles in a larger square.  I've seen quite a few of these recently; it must be a new busking fad.  The sad thing is, he probably makes a ton more money than musicians, and he can properly bundle up and doesn't have to work a long day.  Ah, well.  Once it got dark I retrieved my gear from our host's house and came back out.

I set up outside the town hall, which had some musicians coming and going from it (fancy ones with big cases and elegant apparel).  The street was pretty busy, and I had nice crowds.  Some children did the typical thing of coming around and looking at the back of the box, seeking an explanation for Flaca's movement.  One little boy did his duty of touching everything and trying to talk to me, ignoring my "Ich spreche kein Deutsch"es.  One young man recognized me from my ad on CouchSurfing, and claims he sent me a message inviting me to stay.  I had missed that one!  That has happened before, and I'm always glad when people come say hi. 

An older guy with a guitar walked by, looked at me, then took a seat on a nearby bench with a bottle in a brown paper bag (very cliché, I know).  I thought it must be his spot, but he didn't say anything.  A couple times he picked up the guitar and started following along, but luckily he wasn't persistent enough that it reeeally annoyed me.  It was a good spot and, as usual, I was surprised I was allowed to stay.

Valeria listened for a bit, then she went out in search of food.  A local young man struck up conversation with her, and showed her around a little bit.  The two came back together as I was packing up, and the guy clearly wanted to hang out with us.  We exaggerated the exclusivity of our plans, and Valeria graciously accepted his email address.  It was a pretty tame set, but it was nice to have my coin bag jingling again after being dormant in Berlin! 

Then it was time for...

II: The Gig
My CouchSurfing host, Cherie (who generously took in Valeria as well), arranged a gig for me at her friend's bar, Cafe Brazil: http://cafe-brazil.net/ .  I had expressed concern about the wet forecast, so she mentioned her friend's bar, as people often do, as a place to play.  But she went as far as really organizing me to play!  I did not like that idea at first.  I didn't want the attention, and I preferred to stay on the street where I would surely make better tips.  But I thought more about it.  I would go on at nine, after I would quit busking anyway.  She said it was a cool place, really informal, and was confident that I wouldn't embarrass myself.  Furthermore, her friend offered Valeria and I free food and drinks.  Okay, then!  Either way, it would be a story.  So I finally consented.

Cafe Brazil is awesome.  It's a collective, so the staff are all volunteers.  It's popular among, like, punks, and there's a funky mix of used furniture and art and stuff.  It was a really cool atmosphere, reddish lights, a ton of smoke in the air.  It's a little hard to find, so its customers really mean it.  We got there early to eat.  It turns out every night, or Friday night or something, they just cook a bunch of vegetarian (vegan?) food and people can pay what they want for it.  Tonight was pasta with tomatoes and tofu, and salad.  Mmm!  And free beer for us.  So we sat around and ate and drank and talked to Cherie more.  The place filled up nicely, partly because there is a venue in the same building that has big shows, and there was a band that night.  There were some normal looking folks who clearly eat dinner here often, and also a lot of fashionable punks just drinking, even playing cards.  Leonard kept suggesting I wait for more people, and I finally went on stage at like 10:15.  Stage was just an elevated corner next to the TV, since there were already a bunch of tables and sofas on the real stage.  And I played.

It was actually quite nice, people were aware of me but not focusing on me, which is what I wanted.   It was cool to get applause after songs, and to feel really mysterious responding to the occasional comment with "Ich spreche kein Deutsch."  It was mostly nice to play all my songs again, since I'm only doing a few with Flaca.  As predicted, people liked "The Final Countdown" and "What is Love?", and the retired Lady Gaga medley went over quite well.  I took a couple breaks, to look really cool and get another beer.  Leonard had to step out and he missed the whole set, unfortunately.  Cherie and I secretly discussed the possibility of passing a hat, to which she had donated in the past when there were performers, but I certainly didn't want to start it.  So Valeria donated her hat, and Cherie asked one of the hooligans working the bar to pass it around.  It came back with a little money in it, like ten Euros probably.  At least it's something!  It wasn't awesome enough or remotely a disaster to make it a really good story, but it was certainly a memorable experience.   I really ought to have sought more indoor bar gigs on the road, since I really had nothing to lose, being a foreign traveler.  Next time!

III. The Puppet Museum
Puppetry was a major theme of my Fall trip, since Flaca now has an active role in my act and I am thinking about what else to do with her.  I visited several puppet museums in the Czech Republic, and have a general greater understanding of basic marionette stuff.  The museum in Lübeck, however, was really awesome.  While the Czech republic ones had very similar marionettes, including the mass-produced ones for sale in the gift shops, this museum had over 20,000 marionettes from all over the world and various eras.  We saw human and animal puppets from Asia and Africa, Chinese shadow puppets, artifacts from strange puppet traditions such as the "walking puppet theatre" (puppeteer has her arms in puppets in a theatre that is mounted to her with a cloth over her head, so all spectators see is a theater and legs), tiny marionette theatres, etc. etc.  The museum was started by one man, who traveled the world going to antique shops and making these amazing finds.  I highly recommend this museum.  I have some general ideas of what I want to do with the puppetry side of my act, but it will take a lot of thinking and sketching and engineering (or just asking Tom) to make it work.  I'm very excited, though.

I took Saturday off of busking, despite the lack of the forecast rain, then Valeria and I hopped on a train to Copenhagen!