"Sounds Like a Tune"

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I'm writing this on the train to Glasgow! Aren't I cool?

My time in Edinburgh is winding down. I am now entering my final week in Auld Reekie, and I'm simultaneously trying to busk a lot to raise money for my travels and deprioritize work in favor of packing and organization. That said, I have two days of playing to catch up on.

Although tourism has slowed down, there are still people out. I'm not sure if this will be the case a month from now, so I am glad I decided to take off when I did. It has gotten quite cold, and I am now beginning to don my winter busking attire: double leggings, quadruple sweaters, hat and gloves.

I had the slowest Saturday I've had in a while. I attribute this to the Scottish independence march on Saturday morning. I mentioned in Friday's post that a local songwriter gave me sheet music for a song he had written for the aforementioned cause, and we discussed the possibility of playing it together at the march. As fun as it would have been, I deemed this less of a moneymaker than simply playing at the market, so I skipped it. The market ended up being quite slow, possibly because everyone was at the march, which wove through the Old Town and ended up in the Princes St. Gardens for a rally. Vendors at the market commented that many regulars hadn't shown up. It was quite interesting to see folks on their way to the march, though, typically wearing kilts and/or Scotland rugby jerseys and holding flags. Since I wasn't making a fortune anyway, I decided too late that it might have been worth it to just watch the march as a final Scottish experience. Oh well.

I got to the market earlier than I usually do, by 10:30. I figured I usually miss some of the primo market crowds, and since I'm trying to fundraise I got out of bed on time. I set up at my old end for a a last attempt at loyalty before assessing the disadvantages of that side and moving to the more popular end. An ensemble with three accordions and a few violins played folk music in the middle pitch, with a banner stating that they are raising money to donate to a charity that helps children in India. I later learned that one of the accordion players was the wife of the man who drives my choir carpool.

It was quite cold out, and standing in the sun made a big difference. Customers noticed this as well, and once again dragged the tables and chairs into the sun, where I usually set up. I set up there anyway, with my back to them, but business didn't pick up and I had the added challenge of the sun being in my eyes. I finally moved across the street where I was at least facing the crowd, but it was quite cold in the shade. I've got to stock up on thermals to busk my way through Europe as it just gets colder and darker! Luckily, not a whole lot happened Saturday so this should be quick.

Saturday, 22 September, 2012, Part I

1. I met a really nice American guy about my age. I'd seen him before, but today we had a nice talk. I'm only including this because it was a good reminder that there are cool people in America. I can find a nice community closer to home with interesting young people.

2. This was especially nice after this American lady came up and, without even saying hello (something I've noticed Americans do) just asked “What did you study?” When I answered that and her follow-up questions she sort of did that rolling-eyes looking-down expression of disgust and left without further salutations. That's what I DON'T want to go back to!

3. I've mentioned this regular guy with long dyed orange hair who always seemed to walk by during “The Final Countdown.” I just like that I now have a friendly banter with him and his partner and dog, regarding whether or not they come during the aforementioned song. Today, they walked by during my tamest most accordion-friendly songs, and we joked about that, that his timing was off. Going to miss the characters of Edinburgh.

4. Part of the winter routine is blowing on my fingers a lot both to warm them up and increase my appearance of suffering to therefore increase tips, and it totally worked. I was set up across from the coffee box, and one older man kept looking back (I assume in disgust if it's someone of an age to be familiar with proper accordion music) and saw me do my hand-warming routine a few times. Finally, he came over and handed me a cup of coffee, saying, “Something to warm your hands!” Isn't that nice?

5. Jan the German accordion player who has been there before came by, but without his kit. I asked if he was playing and he said he was not because he had gotten “a little too hammered” the night before. His word choice along with his accent made me smile. But...he was in luck because I don't have caffeine anymore (well definitely not coffee), so although I appreciated the older man's generous donation of coffee, it would go un-drunk if left with me. So I gave it to Jan.

I didn't pack a lunch today, planning to get something at the market. However, despite it being a slow day, everything was sold out. No burgers, no hog rolls, no haggis, no soup.

And so I went to the Mile for part two. I began at McGregor's, but it was quite slow and I was cold. Eventually Charlie Chaplin picked up so I set up at my old favorite spot.

September 22, Part II

1. A middle-aged man tipped, winked, and cheerfully said, “Sounds like a tune anyway!” Well that's good!

2. Scottish-dressed people continued to roam around post-march, and a group of three young men stopped in the chip shop across from me. I took this as a cue to play Flower of Scotland, but they didn't notice. But then when I was packing up, one of them came over and asked where I was going, saying that he had liked it. We discussed the march, and he said there had been 15,000 people there. He was drinking an Irn Bru and his lips were bright orange. That is all.

3. An older American man, from New York, stopped to talk. He asked me how to get to a restaurant, so I directed him, and he asked me to play a nice song. “Werewolves of London” was next on the list, but it wasn't excessively “nice,” so I skipped it and played the beginning of “Fly Me To the Moon.” His expression indicated it wasn't nice enough, so I stopped and asked what he'd like to hear. “Something folky.” I began an Irish folk song. Nope. “Clancy brothers.” Couldn't help him with that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. “Now I'll need you to help me with this. What's this one?” he asked. “That's a pound.” I resisted adding, “That's the one I want.” He picked up another, a US quarter. He said something like, “As much as I like it...” and threw in the quarter. Not to be ungrateful, but US currency is just extra weight to send home, and the restaurant he was headed to was quite expensive, and he had taken quite a bit of my time. Hey, better than getting 2p!

4. Another man must have heard me speaking American, and gave me two US dollars. That's actually good, both because it's generous and because I'm really going to want a bagel at Boston Logan Airport when I arrive, but I'll have no local currency!

5. I'm having trouble with one circle-show guy called Stickman. He's a kind-hearted Canadian with dramatic looking long hair and facial hair and cowboy hat. He's a pro busker and has done it all over the world. He is super nice in person, but he's difficult as a street performer. He came for the Fringe then decided to stay.

Specifically, he's loud. Hogs the air space. Most of the circle lads play a song as they set up, but the speakers face the side of the road and it's usually at a reasonable enough volume to play over. If not, no biggie, I can wait two minutes. Stickman, however, faces his speakers up the mile, so the sound travels far. He plays two songs as he sets up, and at least two more during the show (a fact that he denied when I mentioned it). He also does a bit with a chain saw. I'm not the only one lamenting his volume. Apparently the traders have had to talk to him as well, and sources say he's been causing similar trouble for fifteen years. You'd think he'd figure out by now how to do a show without upsetting so many people!

On this day, I saw him getting ready to set up, so I asked if he would please keep the volume down. He defensively said, “I turned it down last time you asked!” Okay, well not enough. He said he would, but just didn't, so as he was setting up I left my stuff unattended to run down there, and, in front of his budding crowd, ask him to please turn it down again, citing the fact that I had made no money that day. He did, but of course not by enough. I planned this great dramatic speech to deliver afterwards, but then finally I didn't want to deal with it so I let him win and packed up. Yet another reason it's okay that I'm leaving.

6. As I was grumpily packing up, cold, hungry, poor and angry, a vendor stopped by. She noticed that I had played “I've Just Seen a Face,” and said that she loves that song. She additionally beat me to the punch in saying that nobody knows it, which is so true. “I mean, it's the Beatles!” I was happy to hear this because I had technically decided to retire this song, due to its lack of response here, but I'll keep it going for the rare few who know it. This woman was super nice in general, Gemma. Sells jewelry.

The end.

Earworming in Edinburgh

Hello!  We're back after a bit of a hiatus.  Here's why I haven't posted in a while: Sunday: Olympics parade.  I went, but after totally embarrassing myself on the news it started raining, so I came right home without playing.  Monday and Tuesday:  Went out briefly, slow, nothing happened.  Wednesday: baked the cake which was the price of my piano hat, then went to Glasgow.  Thursday: pouring rain.  So I went out today hoping to make some money, of which I have very little.

It was busy, but slow.  Sunny, but cold.  Both levitaters were out, which wiped out that whole vicinity.  A couple of others.  I planned on using my new usual pitch at McGregor's, but the sun looked so nice shining on my former regular spot at the city chambers, so Todd encouraged me to play there anyway even though that one police officer doesn't want me to.  And so I did.

But, it was super slow.  I made it as far as "Ca Gaze" (that's thirteen songs, I think) without getting a tip.  Finally, my non-busker friend Cammie (Cameron) suggested I come out from the alcove.  I like being in the alcove, because the acoustics are good, I'm elevated, and it's sort of mysterious that people can hear me before they see me, but he did have a point.  People seeing me is quite important.  So I did; I set up instead on the stood right in front of it, where I could see people approaching.  Made a world of difference.  There we go.

It was still a pretty slow day, but the sun warmed me up when it was out, which was good.  Otherwise, I had to break out the gloves and try to get used to them again.  Winter is coming!

Friday, 21 September, 2012 (Palindrome: 21/9/12!)

i.  From Monday and Tuesday: there was one really annoying American woman with a camera.  She kept commenting on me and snapping photos, but no tip.  So when I switched locations and she came back, I made a big deal of looking away or looking down while frowning, and she got right in there and tried to get my face in her shots anyway.  Come on, take the hint!  

ii.  I met a man named Jason who just started busking because his house burnt down and he needs the money.  It's quite sad; his guitar case is charred.  This man has a regular gig playing piano at the Henderson's Cafe in the church on Friday nights.  He mentioned having a facebook relationship with Johnny Depp, and he was going to get us in touch.  Apparently he posted a photo of a coffee table with a cool alive-looking chunk of wood, and Johnny sent one back.  Cool!

1.  A man dropped a tip and said, "You've mastered the hardest part: smiling at people!"  Glad to see he noticed!  My face was hurting today from smiling.


2.  I was proposed marriage by a foreigner who picked up on my visa expiration.  Nice!

3.  Flaca was set up again, after a long vacation, and one lady complimented her!  No kid action, though.  However, during a break where Stickman blasted his music, I was playing with Flaca and some kids noticed and pointed her out to their parents.  Pretty disappointing; I can't do anything with her!

4.  A dad walked by pushing a stroller as I played "The Final Countdown."  He cheerfully and sarcastically thanked me for "earworming" him.   I wasn't sure what that meant, but he followed it up with, "That'll be stuck in my head all day!"

5.  An older man walked by and stopped in the middle of Tico Tico.  I thought he might be Brazilian, and I tried to play it well.  After, though, he asked in a Scottish accent if I know any Scottish songs.  I told him my catalog: Flower of Scotland, the Skye Boat Song, and maybe Highland Cathedral.  He seemed excited by these prospects, but tried to remember the name of his true favorite.  He said he'd find me tomorrow with the title of this song.  I won't know it anyway!  Too bad he didn't want me to wing Highland Cathedral, that would have been fun.

6. A woman stopped halfway through The Godfather.  She said, "That's nice, but it's morbid!  Play some Zydeco!"  I told her I didn't know any, but then improvised something from the Putumayo Zydeco CD.  I think the accordion solo in "You're No Good for Me."  Funny how something sounds like Zydeco when it's hard to explain what really makes it Zydeco.  I told her I'll learn some Zydeco this winter, and definitely learn it before I go to New Orleans.  She reminded me that I'll learn it once I'm there!  I guess I should go, then.

7.  I mentioned a songwriter who had written a song for Scottish independence.  He was back today, and we discussed it further.  It turns out there is a march tomorrow for Scottish independence.  We thought that I could play it and he could sing.  However, that won't happen since I haven't had time to practice it and it's directly in the middle of the market times.  He came back later with the music for me, though, in an envelope covered in really nice handwriting.  The song is called "Saltire."  I shall learn it then put it on Youtube and be part of the revolution!

8.  Unsuccessful joke: a pizza delivery guy walked past and peered down the walkway to the city chambers before reaching for his mobile.  I shouted out, "I think those are all supposed to be for me!  The folks inside will pay, though."  He did NOT know how to react.

9.  I finally saw my mystery man!!!  Check out the post from Friday the 13th (of July) when a "mystery man" gave me a super nice note that totally made my day, and then some.  Well, I hadn't seen him since.  I wondered when I would, and I tricked myself into thinking my new friend Cammie was him for a while.  Then finally, I glanced over and there he was, back to the arches, finishing up a phone call.  I of course got really nervous, and rearranged my set list to play songs I know well since I'd probably mess up harder ones.  I was sure we would talk, and I could say what I planned to say months ago (and said to a confused Cammie instead).  But then he just walked by, smiled, dropped a coin, and kept going.  Come on!  I hope to see him once more before I leave.  Glad he's not imaginary, though.

10.  A gregarious young man said to his [dad], "And she's cute, too!"  Aw, thanks.  I asked for requests, and he said Beatles.  So I played "I've Just Seen a Face," and he sang along.  Nice voice!  It turns out he's from Hollywood, and he plays in a band that just got a record deal.  Awesome.  His name's Hunter, look out for him.

And then it started raining, something I did not expect.  I played "Singin' in the Rain" a couple times, and one man noticed!  There was also a double rainbow which was quite subtle due to it being dusk.  No one else seemed to notice it.

Now, time to have a big Saturday, then get to work on the latest Flaca plan.  Will keep you posted.  Leaving Edinburgh v. soon to go traveling, then hooooome to be an elf!

Till next time.

Happy Birthday Dear Georgie

The tale of an accordion player's slightly-disastrous first paid gig.

A Sunday in March of 2012 marked my first day as a "professional" musician.  That is, I was paid by strangers to play the accordion.  I took one look at the weather when I arrived in Edinburgh, assessed my willingness to rely on busking in the cold and the rain, and swiftly put an ad online seeking paid indoor gigs.

Two months later, I got an email from a man who works in elder care who was helping to organize a 91st birthday party for a woman named Georgie.   He had seen my ad and wondered if I might provide the entertainment for the soiree, playing such classics as "Oh Danny Boy" and "My Old Man's a Dustman" along with which there would certainly be singing and dancing.  I enthusiastically agreed, and spent the week leading up to it arranging, rehearsing, and memorizing thirteen new songs, spanning traditional Scottish music, jazz classics from the birthday girl's golden years, and favorite sing-able showtunes.

My mind wandered during these practice sessions, and my imagination ran, as it tends to do, a little wild. By the day of the party my expectations had settled in, several notches above where they should have, and my image of the impending party was complete:

It would surely be a gala, such as one might find in the ballroom of an ocean liner, complete with metallic-looking balloons, photos of Georgie as a '40s beach babe, hunky nephews in kilts, and little great-granddaughters in patent-leather Mary-Janes bickering about whose turn it was to play with my puppet, Flaca. Tables would line the hall, displaying flutes of champagne, scrumptious hors d'oevres, and a tower of cupcakes.  Most illogically, due to my position as the hired entertainment, a swing band wearing white jackets would tap their toes on stage.

Winnie, the birthday girl's sister and hostess of the party, would be seen greeting guests, opening the occasional window, and hooting and hollering at stories from the past ninety years.  Most importantly, Georgie would be perched upon a comfortable chair wearing her Sunday best and a tiara, the angle of which would be continually compromised by the hands of children.  She would be slightly overwhelmed by the hoopla, and she would undoubtedly cry when I played "Oh Danny Boy." My set would turn into a comedy act as I delivered such jokes as this, which I devised on the walk over:

This next song is the classic that Europeans know as "La Mar.'" Americans only know it as "Beyond the Sea," and of course we Americans who were born in the '80s simply know it as "End credits music from 'Finding Nemo.'"

Uproarious laughter! I also played out a scenario where I would be about to announce my favorite Mexican waltz, "Morir Soñando," then quickly catch the morbidity of playing a song about dying, albeit while dreaming, in the presence of nonagenarians. I visualized myself quickly scanning my mental dictionary and introducing "Bailar Soñando" instead, which doesn't even make sense. They would certainly bailar, never knowing the half of my sensitivity.

This is not exactly how it went. As reality kicked in, the sparkling ballroom transformed into a drab assisted-living community "lounge" and the hunky nephews were replaced by chain-smoking old ladies. The swing band melded into a single unequivocally mediocre yet overdressed accordion player, and the salty taste of music-induced tears became the coppery taste of safety-pin induced blood, but we'll get to that.

The main problem was that nobody knew what to do with me. The man with whom I had been emailing wasn't in attendance, and Winnie was a bit scattered.  I took a seat with some guests, who I assumed to be childhood friends of the sisters, for a cup of tea.  I learned that there were, in fact, no friends or family in sight; all the guests were fellow residents of this facility. Their varying levels of with-it-ness became evident when one asked, several times, "Oh, is it someone's birthday?" and scoffed each time we told her Georgie was turning ninety-one, since she is ninety-six.

Finally, Winnie suggested I play, so I dragged over a coffee table to lay out some music and passed my puppet Flaca to a confused Georgie for a dance. As I positioned my accordion to start, it suddenly jerked down. Yes, this was the moment the safety pin gave out.  About a month prior, one strap had broken and was being held in place by a resilient safety pin.  During the intermediate weeks, the pin could have given up the ghost when I was busking and had no responsibility, or, better yet, when I was simply practicing at home. But instead it happened the one time people were actually waiting for me to play.

I hopefully closed it, and it reopened.  I tried it a few more times, keeping my fingers on it a second longer, as if that would make a difference.  I may have even surreptitiously executed the tried-and-true repair technique of blowing on it.  As I frantically tried to get it to stay shut, poking it through other parts of the strap but only bending it, I stabbed my thumb, commencing the bloodshed part of the party.  It was flowing well enough that I had to tend to the puncture in addition to solving the "safety" pin snafu.  I asked if there might be another safety pin somewhere, or an elastic band or some sellotape. The guests, dutifully paying attention, politely laughed, as if it were part of the routine. I excused myself and snuck into the kitchen, opening drawer after drawer and finding nothing. I considered my resources, and paused on the long strips of adhesive Velcro stuck to my accordion from a previous decoration. Perfect! I tugged one off, and used it to wrap the pin in place as I smeared my thumb on my fortunately black skirt.

This quick repair wasn't enough to save my act. I was nervous to have an audience, overcaffeinated, and frazzled from the strap mishap.  It's safe to say that this wasn't my best performance.  I made the mistake of starting with new songs, when I should have confidently launched into the songs I can play in my sleep and given the impression that I actually know how to play the instrument.  A hearty sing-along would have worked wonders to mask my ineptitude, but most of the guests remained silent.  A woman named Margaret saved the day when she arrived with both her marbles and vocal cords intact and loudly sang in both English and French, saving me from a deeper level of discomfort.  Between each song, Georgie alternated singing this other silly song that had the word "polka" in it and making a comment about finally being ninety, after which someone would remind her of her slightly more advanced age.

The entire set wasn't a nightmare, however.  After looking at blank stares for the duration of "Ba Mir Bist Du Schoen," I switched to a song that I can always play well: "La Donna é Mobile." This was a big hit!  Subsequently, during "Lady of Spain," Georgie grabbed the woman next to her, got up, and began the short-lived dancing that my imagination had promised me.  After the final cadence, I launched straight into "I Would Have Danced All Night," which, perhaps due to the context, was much more popular than the previous showtunes I had attempted.  By that point, Georgie had brought me a slice of cake, which was mostly frosting, sans utensil.  I wolfed down pink bites between songs with my fingers, accidentally using my hair as a vehicle for increasing the stickiness of my lowest accordion keys.

With most of my planned songs crossed off the list, I headed into the surely safe territory of traditional songs, beginning with Loch Lomond. I tried a few different pronunciations of the title before Georgie understood what song was coming, but it was worth it for the rousing chorus that finally ensued.  Thinking the traditional stuff was my ticket to success, I began "Flower of Scotland," which immediatley put a sour expression on Georgie's wrinkled face.  I stopped and asked if the song was the cause of this, which she confirmed to be true.  I suggested that I do "Wild Mountain Thyme" instead, and she surprised me by professing that all of these songs were "too modern."  I was at a loss for what to play, which Georgie remedied by suggesting we do "Oh Danny Boy."  I refrained from pointing out that I had already played it earlier in the set, and pumped the opening chords for a second time.  Georgie was not happy with the key, and started singing in the one she wanted, along with which I limped.  She shed not tear one.  I entertained myself with the inappropriate thought that when you play for people in this age bracket, you really only have to know one song.

With each wrong note and poor song choice, I became increasingly concerned that Winnie wouldn't want to pay me. I tried to predict what she might say, and what I would do to compromise, since I had given up a beautiful sunny Sunday (which happened to also be British Mother's Day) for the event. I also wondered how long this mutual torture would continue, since I was running low on songs that weren't "too modern." Finally, halfway through "Bella Notte," Winnie sauntered up and declared, her speech more comprehensible with the post-cake insertion of her dentures, "That's super, but that's enough for you now, dear." Phew! She paid me the entirety of the pre-established sum, and I quickly packed up to escape before my conscience got the better of me and I handed back the wad of bills.

This party was a thrilling turn of events for my busking career, but also reminded me why I haven't sought such gigs before.  The humiliation, confusion, and waste of a sunny Sunday was worth learning the lesson that I am indubitably a street musician; that I prefer to play in settings with an implied disclaimer that I might, you know, suck.  I am nothing without the power to bail halfway through a song, inconsequentially strike the wrong chords, not worry about tempo, and stop to eat an entire slice of frosting if I feel like it.  I will agree to such gigs with caution in the future, and only play songs I've known for at least a year. Alternatively, I can practice hard, become the master accordion player of my imagination, and find that cruise ship for a real gala.  The safety pins will stay at home.

"Not Very Ambitious"

Today was possibly my penultimate Saturday in Edinburgh :(  Boo-hoo!  I went out today with a new setlist, which I really didn't like!  Since I get sick of playing the same songs in the same order, I had the idea to create five "pods" of seven songs each.  Those seven are always a team, and I'll arrange the pods in a different order every outing to spice things up.  I meticulously prepared them, noting key, tempo, origin, and even theme, but still managed to do a poor job of choosing complementary songs.  The original idea was to only have five songs in each pod, but it was mathematically easier to do seven, which sort of defeated the purpose.  I missed my old order, but didn't know it quite well enough to wing it.

I began at the market, as usual, at the far end.  East Coast Organics had spread way out of their stall, so Kat the Big Issue seller was where I usually go, and there was another musician in the middle.  It was allover a pretty boring day, so this should be a quick post, I hope.

Saturday, 15 September, 2012:
1. The musician in the middle was the "other accordion player" from last week.  We talked a bit, it turns out he's German and his name is Jan.  He has lived in Edinburgh for eight years, however, and played in a Brazilian.  His busking repertoire is mainly klezmer and tango, with the mario theme thrown in there.  Nice guy!

2.  Parents with a little son lingered for a couple songs, and after "I Believe (When I fall in love it will be forever)" mentioned that it was the song for their first dance at their wedding.  Nice!  Few people recognize it.  I told the man that, and he said that very few people knew it at their wedding too.  One knew it just from the ending credits of "High Fidelity."

3.  An older couple sat for a while, and I spoke to the man.  He asked about my studies, so I mentioned Psychology.  When he asked about my plans, I told him the truth: "Well Plan A is to write a best-selling memoir about my experiences as a traveling busker, sell the rights to a movie, then live off the royalties forever."  "That's not very ambitious!" he replied.  Not ambitious??  It turns out this man is a retired psychiatrist, a profession he passed onto his daughters.  Good thing he didn't quiz me on it!

4.  A guy recognized me from being in Kaiho!  He was at the Dark Dark Dark show we opened at, and apparently we talked there.  Nice to feel super famous.

5.  A toddler needed a diaper change, and the whole ordeal was pretty adorable.  She stood up, holding her pram for support, and just looked right at me while her mother did the dirty work.  She had the cutest blonde pigtails, and actually looked like I did at that age!

6.  In last Saturday's post I mentioned the guy with bright orange hair at the dog that comes every week.  Well, this week the dog was lying in the sun, and I got a quality belly-rub in.  That is all.

That's it for the market!  None of the regulars.  I even put up a new sign indicating that it is my final weeks in Edinburgh, hoping the regulars would come by to see it.  Oh well.    Then off to the mile!  Set up outside McGregor's.

7.  A really cool teenage boy walked by with his posse and yelled, "Play the bagpipes!"  Not the kind of heckle I'm used to!

8.  A man dropped what I presume was a Canadian coin in the box, and said, "Here's a souvenir from Canada, from Montreal!"  So I played "O Canada" and he totally got it.  Yeahhh.

9.  Some French teenage girls stopped and said they were playing a game.  I assumed it was the typical scavenger hunt, but instead they asked for a Scottish joke.  I thought for a minute and turned the classic accordion joke into a bagpipe joke (the one where the guy's windows are smashed and there's a second instrument).

10.  A man sat outside McGregor's and listened.  He invited me for a beer, so I joined him.  It turns out he's Swiss, from the German part (which I could guess since he sounded just like my busker friend Philip from the same region), and he's here for two weeks to study English.  He's a trumpet player back home, appealing to fans of traditional Swiss and German music.  Nice guy!

11.  There was only one hen party, and they were awesome.  The women were dressed in flapper outfits, and looked fantastic.  The kind of people I'd be friends with!  Nice change.  There was also one real bride I played for, but they noticed the song super late, and only the groom did.

12.  A woman stopped and asked if I play the banjo as well.  I said I didn't.  She said she'd seen my anyway, playing outside Starbucks where she works.  She asked if I need photos, explaining that she's just gone back to school for photography.  I wish I played the banjo!

13.  After "What is Love?" two guys stopped to ask me what it was.  After I identified it, one of them asked if I know any Rolling Stones.  Why yes I do!  It turns out "Paint it Black" is his favourite song ever, and it was a Paint it Black day.  They had randomly heard it on the radio earlier.  Nice.

That's all!  Quick post.  It was quite nippy and windy, so I quit a little early.  Then I sat around for a few hours with other buskers, mainly Edgar and JP.  Lewis joined us, as did Heather and a statue named Sara.  Lewis wrote the following in my notebook, regarding my two carrots that were lying out:

"Two carrots on a notepad/aye which wan is good and which bad/tha wantal tha left or the right/nay worry al eat them both tha night." Oh, he also generously gave me a £1 bill, signed by him, after I mentioned mine had been nicked.

Tomorrow is the parade for Scottish Olympians!  Cammie suggested I learn "We Are the Champions."  Should be fun.

Till then!

Everyone Knows it's Windy

Here are two quick posts from two very windy days!

I. Sunday, 9 September, 2012:
First off, happy 909090909 day!  Because my family is very silly, we like to think the chorus of this Gipsy Kings song says "909090909."  Therefore, we listen to that song on September 9th every year.

Sunday was the "Riding of the Marches," when a ton of horses are ridden into Edinburgh and up the Royal Mile.  It necessitates putting up fences, and the circle acts couldn't perform.  I thought it would be quite busy due to crowds congregating, but it was actually a quiet day.  I set up outside McGregor's for a few hours.

1.  A teenage girl asked where I was from and said I'm "so smiley!"  Funny that smile levels cause such a question. 

2.  A beard stopped to talk.  It was enormous and fluffy and white, and you could just barely see some eyes above it and feet below it if you looked carefully.  Its owner asked if I read music, and explained that he's a songwriter.  He has written a song for Scottish independence, and wants to record local musicians playing it.  Additionally, he would like those musicians to keep it in their repertoire and play it frequently.  I asked him if it was appropriate for me to participate as a non-Scot, and he said, "Of course!  Anyone who wants to be Scottish can be Scottish!"  Can I get that in writing for a visa?  Furthermore, he told me I can keep playing it in America.  He said something like, "If you play it on the radio in New York you'll get really famous!"  He said he'd bring it next time he saw me, hope it happens!  I'd be curious to hear the song.  And as he retreated, I yelled after him asking what key it was in.  "G!"  Awesome, I can do G.

3.  A Japanese woman asked if I'm local.  I guess I said no, although I do consider myself "local."  Maybe she asked if I was Scottish.  Anyway, she's from a Japanese TV network, and she's looking for local musicians to film.  She really wanted a female, and thought I would be perfect for it.  I told her I could be local, but she wasn't keen.  Almost got famous in Japan!

4.  A guy stopped, and said he saw me "ages ago."  He's a musician, and he had been looking for an accordion player to record a track.  Hope he gets in touch!

5.  This one's nice.  An older couple was strolling by, looking very serious.  I had just started "La Vie en Rose," and the woman stopped her husband, continuing to look very serious.  She whispered something to him, and they began to dance.  Everybody nearby stopped to watch with big smiles, and we all had a tear or two welling.  Loved this.

6.  I angled myself to face the mile in time to see a big metal rod fall from the roof of the building of the Filling Station and fall onto some diners' table outside.  Scary!  Luckily it missed them, but there were broken glasses and liquid everywhere.  It could have killed someone!  Super windy, I guess.

Things were quite slow, so I quit a little early to await the horses.  My new friend Cammie and I watched the anticlimactic parade that involved lots of horses clip clopping up the road, some pipes and drums, and speeches we couldn't hear.  I guess it's a huge event in the Borders.

Without further ado, since I want to finish this, email my parents about Inverness, and take a bath and read in bed for a while since it's balls-ass cold, here's the next post!

II. Thursday, 13 September 2012
I had a few days off!  Monday and Tuesday I was in Inverness with JP the puppeteer.  I jumped in Loch Ness just to say I did, and Nessie totally nibbled my toe.  Wednesday was a beautiful day, but I didn't work because I had to try to edit an image of Nessie into a Loch Ness photo, naturally, which ended up taking all afternoon.  It doesn't even look good!  Today was back to work, but it was cold and windy.  No good!

There were a ton of buskers out!  These blustery weekdays I've had the  mile to myself, so I was surprised.  A red-haired young man played tap-guitar at the police box, a Spanish hang player was at the door, Sam Austin the guitar player/singer who I met at the Fringe was at my fave spot, and Edgar was at the cathedral.  I talked to Victor the hang player a bit in Spanish, which was fun.  He's here for a few months to busk.  Funny how I had never heard of the hang, but now I've seen several.

By the time I made it up to Edgar, he was ready to pack up.  But first, I requested he play Mozart's "Queen of the Night" aria.  It is incredibly challenging, and Edgar is the only saw player in the world, that he knows of, who even dares attempt it.  His performance of it is inspiring, amazing, beautiful, and just so hilarious.  You can imagine how hard it is, but he pulls it off.  You can't help but laugh watching it!  I'm going to pressure him to get it on Youtube soon so I can share it.  You're going to love it.  Anyway, I took his spot on the cathedral steps since he was packing up.

1. The excitement of the day was my hat!  When I was freezing last week I wanted a hat, and had the idea to try to obtain a piano key hat.  A week later, my friend Torya has knit one for me.  Here it is:

 Now I just need musical note earrings and piano socks!

2.  An old man saw my loans sign and commented, "You shouldn't have to pay them.  Education should be free for everyone."  Hear hear!

3.  Two older women who appeared to be sisters stopped to talk.  One asked me some basic questions, and translated into Spanish for her sister.  So naturally took the opportunity to speak a lil' Spanish.  It turns out they're Argentinian.  We had a nice talk in Spanish, but I'm worried I used "tú" instead of "usted."  I'm out of practice!  They didn't storm off, offended, so that's a good sign.  They were very nice women who wished me luck in Argentina (I told them I want to go there next--fact) and said they'd see me there.  Lovely!

4.  A tourist stopped and asked me something about when the cathedral was built.  I don't know!

5.  I had an idea.  I personally think it's brilliant, but I'd be curious of the opinions of punters (British word for audience members, customers, etc.)  The idea is to give passersby access to some notecards or papers or something with the instruction to "Conduct" or "Help me phrase" or something.  These cards would have musical symbols, specifically fortissimo, pianissimo, sforzando, crescendo, diminuendo, fermata, accelerando, and ritardando.  The idea is that people would have fun holding them up and manipulating these areas of my playing, which will probably be quite funny.  It'll be fun if musical people do it and do it well, silly if people don't know what they are and do it crazily, and educational for kids to try them and see what they mean!  What do you think?

6.  An old man stopped while I was finishing up a song.  He reached into his jacket and pulled out...a tin whistle, and played me a reel.  He asked where I'm from, and when I told him he asked if I know any American reels or jigs.  I know "The Devil's Dream," which I played on violin as a kid.  I attempted it but it wasn't very good.  Cool!

7.  Some middle-aged folks sat down across the street and listened for quite some time.  They came over after a while and asked if I could play a bunch of songs.  I didn't catch a lot since they were talking over each other, but one was definitely "Dire Straits."  One man asked me to do Paint it Black again, but incorrectly matched it to its artist.  I forget what he said.  Got to learn more classic rock!

8.  I talked to a very friendly police officer.  He came to the Fringe busker draw a few times to remind us that there is extra theft and we should keep an eye on our stuff.  He was always super nice, and has continued to greet me in passing.  Today, he was working undercover!  Looked totally normal in street clothes, but with a subtle earbud in.  Badass.  He stopped to talk, which was nice, asking where I'm from.  "Massachusetts."  "What's the capital again?"  "Boston."  "Oh yes, Boston, Massachusetts!"  Everyone knows that combination!  He asked if it was the Garden State, and asked about New England.  People here know quite a bit about US geography.  Nice to know this guy's on my side if I have trouble with my favorite pitch more.

Took a break and had some food, talked to Todd and Scott.  I set up later at the Door, but didn't last long because it was quite cold and windy.  I wanted to come home and get stuff done and go to bed early!

9.  An obviously American middle-aged couple walked by, and the mom said, "I wish my kids would pay theirs back!"

10.  A young man heard me play the Godfather theme and asked if I could play the "other one."  The "main one."  He sang a little in a very high register, but then got embarrassed.  I'll have to look it up!

That is all!  I'll probably go out tomorrow evening then allllll day Saturday.  Maybe I'll go sew the hole in my dress.  Till next time!

Guess That Tune

Today was a good marathon Saturday!  It was quite mild out (I was down to my dress for most of the day), with a few standard 10-second downpours.  I decided to sell out and set up at the other end of the Market.  I got the impression that there was more money to be made there, since there was an eating area as well as generally more foot traffic.  It was a nice day, nothing too crazy to report, just nice smiles and good tips.  I am being very disciplined now; Blogger is my only open tab!  Usually it takes me forever because I take frequent Facebook breaks, but I'm crying to grind out this post so I can go see my friends' band, Jen and the Gents, tonight without having a blog post looming over me!  Aren't you proud?  Anyway...

Saturday, 8 September 2012, Part 1:
1. A guy walked by wearing a purple "Start Wearing Purple" t-shirt; a reference to the Gogol Bordello song.  I noticed it too late to try to play that song.  Luckily, he came back and stood in line at the coffee box, so I tried it!  But he totally didn't recognize it.  Tried another Gogol Bordello song that I know better, When Universes Collide (accordion intro!) but he just walked away.  Lame.

2. I played Tico Tico, and noticed a guy in line for coffee look up.  Oh, did he recognize it?  Then I saw that his friend was wearing a Brasil football jersey.  Aha!  This is the second time ever that Brazilians have conveniently been there for that song.

3.  This is totally unrelated to busking.  It is just a funny thing from yesterday that I remembered while busking, so I wrote it in my busking notes to email my brother later.  However, since I'm banishing myself from Facebook and email while writing this post, I'll have to just write it here for now:

Yesterday, I hiked up to Arthur's Seat.  There's a wonderful view from up there, which includes a glimpse into the backyard of Holyrood Palace, the Queen's Scottish residence.  They were setting up for an event, about which a fellow hiker and I joked.  Maybe there was a bouncy castle!!  The hiker, Liam, pointed out that the Queen might puncture said attraction with her crown.  He went so far as to hypothetically quote a guard: "Again, Elizabeth?  [Sigh] Every year..."  His Irish accented delivery was just perfect, and had me laughing heartily.  So that's that. 

4.  A nice woman stopped by to talk.  She said she had been sitting and listening for a half hour, and called her daughter who heard me through the phone.  Her daughter plays violin and trombone, and also studied psychology.  In fact, she was working on a book about the therapeutic properties of playing music, and hoped to have it stocked in pamphlet version in hospitals or the like.  I told the mom that I'm working on a book as well, about busking, and she took my card to find my website and get her daughter in touch.  Seems like a nice family!

5.  Whenever it randomly rained, I played a round of "Singin' in the Rain."  There were always older folks around for it, who I was sure would like it, but their enthusiasm level stayed unchanged.  After the especially rainiest run-through, however, I heard applause.  I turned around and saw two ladies down below, in the parking garage bit, who had heard it and understood.  Nice.

6.  A young man got a coffee, then sat at a table near me to read his book (my kind of man!)  (But I also saw that he had a plastic shopping bag full of beer bottles.  Funny combination.)  He was really nice, and enthusiastic about my music, clapping after each song.  Best of all, he recognized "Call Me, Maybe," sort of!  "Was that that Katy Perry song?"  Close enough.  He claimed to have recognized the last line.  Not sure which one that is.  He also asked for an ID on Tetris, so I said "Tetris....music A."  "Oh, it sounded like a Balkan song."  Well, that's because it is.  It's a Russian folk song called "Korobeiniki."

7.  Speaking of which, I was thinking that I ought to learn the other Tetris musics as well and do a medley!  The nerds would like that.

8.  The only regular kid that stopped by today was Briana, the dancer.  She looked for Flaca, who wasn't there because half her leg gruesomely fell off.  Rather than telling her that, I told her that Flaca had merely broken her leg.  I almost added "Too much dancing!" but didn't want to discourage her from busting a move.  We have the routine down now, though, she picked up the shakers and handed her dad the tambourine while I played "Beer Barrel Polka," "Lady of Spain" and "Tico Tico."  Briana ran around me, shaking away.  Not sure where the others were!  I only have two Saturdays left, I hope I see everyone else before I go.

9.  Someone said, "You've got competition!" and explained that there was another accordion player in the middle.  Another person suggested I do "dueling banjos" with him.  I assumed it was Tom, my nemesis-turned-friend, but it turned out to be another guy I've never seen, as well as a guitar player.  I didn't hear them, so I have no idea what kind of stuff they do.  Grrr.  A guitar player I see sometimes who wears tartan trousers walked by as well, I assumed he set up at my usual end.

10.  There this one guy with dyed orange hair who always walks by with his dog.  The thing is, he always walks by during The Final Countdown!  Today he stopped to tip me, and I pointed out this phenomenon to him.  He facetiously admitted thinking that I only play that song.  I asked if he knew the Ultimate Dog Tease Youtube video, because his dog looks just like its star.  He said he didn't, hopefully he'll look it up!  The dogs do look just alike.

That was it for the market.  I packed up in time to get a burger, but not hot chocolate.  They had already taken down their stall.  Then, off to the Mile!

There were surprisingly few people out.  Just Yoda, Elaine, and Edgar.  I guess the transient summer folks are gone and the kids are back in school.  It was still busy though.  Heather wasn't even there!  My spot was empty, but there was a wedding at the City Chambers with a piper who was maybe going to play, so I set up at McGregor's. 

Saturday, Part 2:
1. A girl about my age and her [mother] walked by.  But then I started playing The Final Countdown and the girl turned around and tipped me, "Just for that song!"  It was strange, though, I was totally spacing out and had no idea what song I was playing.  Had to listen and figure it out.  Usually I stay focused for that one.

2.  A toddler was full-on crying.  But then ze heard accordion and stopped.  Works like a charm!

3.  I heard a round of applause after "Funiculi Funicula" and tracked it to a group sitting outside Subway.  It was surprising, they didn't seem very old or Italian!  Guess they just think the world is made for fun and frolic (heh).

4.  A group of celebrating women walked by.  Hen party?  Nope, one woman wore a thing that said "40 today!"  So I played Happy Birthday and they didn't notice.  But then the woman sang along for a minute, "Happy birthday dear...oh, that's me!!"  I noticed two other birthdays too late!

5.  A family walked by exhibiting some parenting choices I don't agree with.  The oldest son roamed free, but the two younger children were on leashes, and the mother was smoking.  Eek!  When they came by a second time, the older boy (maybe six or seven years old) stopped and asked, "Excuse me, what does that say?"  I read the signs aloud, and he seemed satisfied.

6.  A bride was approaching my pitch.  She was undoubtedly a bride, but I doubted it.  I asked a random lady next to me, who confirmed that there was no question that that was a bride.  And so I started up a chorus of you-know-what.  She was walking up with the man I took to be the groom, another woman, and a photographer.  They posed for a photo with me.  The nice thing about this couple was that they were older, probably in their fifties.  Much more rewarding to play for than drunk twenty-year-old hen parties!  I like the idea of being included in their wedding photo album.  

7.  A guy walked over and asked if I can play "Two Limited."  I said no.  He said "I'll sing it for you," and did.  Quite simple chorus, so I tried playing it back.  "That's not even remotely correct."  Ha.  He asked if I can play any club music, so I advertised "We Are Young" and "Dynamite."  And Lady Gaga for old times' sake.  I also handed him my set list, and his inclination was to turn it over.  It's written on scrap paper, and the back has a melange of random things, including a list of songs to potentially learn.  He decidedly requested "Light My Fire."  I let him down and told him I can't actually play it.  He chose Call Me, Maybe in the end, and said he was going to go into Subway to get food, then I could play it for him.  He seemed to have forgotten though, since he came out of Subway and began to cross the street.  I got his attention, since it's nice to have an excuse to play Call Me Maybe, and he said he'd listen from across the street where his friends were.  I noticed one of the guys was wearing a crown, so I asked if it was his birthday.  Nope, stag party.  Aha.  So I played "Here Comes the Bride" again.  Good enough.

8.  It was a lucky day in general.  Things were good, people were nice, but something very good happened.  Not mandatory to include it, but I will.  Tom was at a favorite coffee shop, so I texted him to bring me back something.  It turned out that since they were about to close, they gave Tom some pastries for free!  And he gave them to me!  This was great, since I hadn't packed food and I'm trying not to spend too much money.  Mmmm.  But I probably had powdered sugar all over me for the rest of the day.

9.  This was a chatting-heavy day!  I probably lost at least an hour of play time chatting, but that's okay.  First it was this friendly old man named Jim who is a fellow traveler.  He's off to Bulgaria for two weeks just because I wanted to do something.  I told him about my plans, about which he was enthusiastic.  He also told me about this Chinese shop (?) on Leith Walk that advertises getting people visas.  Hmm.  Also chatted with Paul, my latest photographer friend.  And Cameron, and Elaine, and Tom, and Edgar.  Waved to several others I know who walked by.  Anyone watching this long would think I'm incredibly popular!  Maybe I am!

10.  Oh, this is a bad one.  A young [Asian] man walked by in a Lebron t-shirt.  I playfully booed him, citing "Go Cavs!" as my reasoning, expecting him to know what he was representing and playfully respond.  As it was, he didn't seem to speak English, and acted confused and a little freaked out.  Felt bad about that.    

11.  Is there anyone in Maine right now?  Probably not.  I met two separate families from Maine!  One of them, a woman, told the typical story of her grandfather playing the accordion, and her continuing to see it "under the stairs" for years after.  She wonders what happened to it.  So do I.

12.  A young man paid me the compliment of "Good song choice!" for "What is Love?"  Glad kids these days still know it!

13.  Some guys kept passing by, doing a scavenger hunt.  Since I always seem to qualify to cross something off the list, I tried to get their attention to ask.  Twice.  But they didn't hear either time, which was embarrassing.  Since the people on the patio of McGregor's certainly did.

14.  Lastly, a man tipped me, explaining that he had been listening from a local flat.  He said that they were all sitting up there playing "Guess that tune."  Oh, nice!  By the sounds of it, they succeeded. 

I think that's it!  In only a little over an hour!  Funny how quickly things can get done without [non-Nutella] distractions.  Oh, and I got at least two new Olympics coins: basketball and sailing.  But I haven't counted up yet, so there may be more!  Tim, the Canadian circle show act, informed me that there's a parade tomorrow that will mess up the circle shows.  Could mean good business for me, though!  I'll have to see what the occasion before deciding if it's FINALLY the right time to wear my tacky Union Jack antennae headband.  Till next time!

"Better Than Bagpipes"

Today was a really fabulous day.  I wasn't supposed to busk, because it was supposed to be super windy, and because I had the idea to do a day trip out of town.  But then I ended up having coffee dates scheduled with two different people, so I stayed in Edinburgh and went into town with all my gear to busk after.  But then both of them fell through but I was in town anyway, so I busked the whole day away.  1:30-8:30ish with one hour break!  Phew!  I don't usually do that on weekdays, but I'm glad I did.  It was pretty windy, and threatened to rain at times (did rain later), so I was the only busker.  Great for business, I must say.  I started out on the stairs of the cathedral, so I could stay dry if it rained.  Without further ado, here are two handwritten pages of notes:

Thursday, 7 September, 2012:
i. Before I start, actually, I'll share my embarrassing moment at the bank.  I ran out of coin bags (rather than rolling coins, we bag them), so I stopped at a bank on the way out to get some.  As I was about to turn away, I thought of a good joke: asking the man if he could fill them for me too!  As in, with bank money!  LOL!  I guess it wasn't clear though that I meant bank money, because his response was, "No, you'll have to fill them yourself, but there's a counter right there you can use."  Oh, not really worth explaining.  I was the only customer, so all the tellers watched this; watched my grin fade and the red take over.  Come on, they should have LOVED it!  Anyway...  

1. In the Door post, I mentioned Martin, the busker who told me about the door long ago.  Well, he came to say hello while I was playing today.  He clearly didn't remember me, which made that interaction much easier.  Subdividing this one:

          a. I had just played "Fly Me To the Moon" when he came by, and he complimented it.  I told him it's one of my oldest songs, and he said he could tell.  "My 'Hotel California,'" he added.  Ha, that's my newest song!

          b. We discussed the festival, and the feelings that come after it.  We agreed that we feel special wearing our Street Events passes on lanyards, and he recommended that I keep wearing it.  He confessed to having worn his until November one year, because it made him look official so people didn't dare move him on.  Good plan!  I told him I also ended up with a Street Events staff sweatshirt.  "Ended up in it, on it, or with it?" he asked.  What?  He elaborated (I [mis]quote): "Maybe you ended up 'in it' when it still belonged to a staff member who you...got to know [wink].  'On it' means you vomited on it, and 'with it' means you got a nice souvenir."  "Definitely 'with it!'"  "That's good, you wouldn't want to have done something with it you'd regret!"  Ha!

         c.  Martin told me about the Door again, and explained that it's pretty much the only place you can play at night.  He directed my attention to a window across the street that was slightly ajar, and explained that there's a crazy 76-year-old man who lives in there.  If he doesn't like your music, you lose teeth.  Martin smiled and showed me a gap.  Apparently this man had actually come down with a club.  Oh my god.  Will try to avoid playing at the cathedral at night.

2. A group of assorted foreigners stopped by and asked if I was a busker.  Yes I am.  They needed to take a picture with a busker!  "Is this a treasure hunt?"  "Yes!  We're not the first?"  Hardly.  I asked what else they needed to find, and one girl said, "Bus stop."  "Oh, that should be easy!"  "Really???"  Turns out she said "Bath tub."  Ah, a little harder.

3.  I had a bit of an audience at one point!  It included two men who came and sat on bollards in front of me.  They reacted/sang along a little to "We Are Young," "Don't Stop Me Now" and "Chariots of Fire."  One even indicated a slow-mo run with his arms during the latter.  Finally, yes!

4.  Also, the older local man walked by during C's of F.  I liked that, since he has said he likes that song.  I need a name for this guy!  Anyone?  Pockets?  He's about my height with normal, side-parted white hair, beaky nose, clean-shaven, skinny, wears neutral earth-tone jumpers and trousers.  Hangs out near buskers a lot.  Super nice guy.  Looks sort of like that older piper.  He stuck around for more songs, and requested the Godfather.  He said he likes movie themes, and often listens to soundtracks at home.  I told him I ought to learn Star Wars, and he disagreed.  He doesn't like that one.

5. There were also two construction workers lurking across the street, listening.  I felt the strange urge to impress them, and cared more that they didn't notice my mistakes than I did random passersby.  Oh, at one point a female construction worker walked by!  Girl power!

6. A middle-aged man walked by with a totally tacky musical Hawaiian shirt.  Like, covered in colorful musical notes, instruments (I seem to remember saxophones in particular), etc.  I complimented it and suggested he join my act.

7. Saw adult twins.  Always surprising!  Women in their fifties who still wore matching clothes.  Cool.

8. A very Scottish-looking man walked by in full Scottish attire as I was playing "What is Love?"  I assumed he would HATE it, being the traditionalist he appeared to be, but he tipped.  Go figure.

9. Also after "What is Love?"  A guy came up and asked for an ID on it.  When I told him, he reminisced aloud about it being popular in the mid-nineties.  He was up north then, and it was playing at the pubs (my mind automatically did the back-in-time transition to the nightclub in "Airplane").  In those days, he was drinking a lot, and also brandishing a sword and wearing a kilt.  And also working in a salmon smoking facility.  Can't even make this stuff up!

10.  It's weird, wearers of Red Sox attire will always respond when I yell "Go Boston" or the like at them, but people in Celtics gear always ignore me.  Hmmm.

11.  You know those trick photos, where you like appear to be holding up the leaning tower of Pisa?  Well some [Asians] seemed to be attempting one with me.  I'm not sure if the girl was supposed to be playing the keyboard or playing my dress, but it was certainly a first.  I hope it turns out!

12.  The adorable little [American] boy who had stopped by the previous night, and pushed some accordion buttons, came back.  This time, he had a plastic sword.  I asked about it, and he wordlessly swiped it out of its sheath and did a fancy wrist thing.  Love it.  His mom told me that he had seen me and said, "She's back!  My friend is back!"  Such a cutie!

13.  On the subject of people tipping outside their predicted age bracket, I didn't lose a tip from an old lady who happened to hear only Madonna.  Maybe she thought it was something else.

14. Since it was windy, my S^3 sign kept falling down.  However, as luck would have it, whenever it fell it hit the tambourine.  Usually I don't know when it happens, but whenever I heard the clang I knew I had to go fix it.  Voila!

15. Speaking of the tambourine, I like when people hit it with coins.  Sometimes I'll point out to people that they get bonus points since they hit the tambourine.  I was thinking that this could be an extra gimmick: I could have the mini tambourine in the middle of the box, with a sign saying that they got a prize, or just good luck or something, if they got their coin into the tambourine from a certain distance (chalk line?).  I think it would be popular!

16.  Another idea, that was supposed to be in yesterday's post: there are signs on Rose St. with a map of the crossroads and listings of restaurants and stuff.  I was thinking I could make a little sticker that says "Accordion player" and tape it onto the map, wherever I am.  Must implement this too!

17.  I had another visit from a lady I'll mention in the Big Fringe Post.  She's a middle-aged woman in a wheelchair who has one leg.  Both times she's come by, she is drinking a can of beer.  Today, her caregiver (a weird guy) parked her in front of me while he went into the news agent to get more beer.  She was quite enthusiastic, yelling, "Beautiful!" and waving her arms after every song.  What characters we have here!

18.  A woman dropped a tip, and indicated that she had been listening.  She liked the Twin Peaks!  I told her I was glad, since not enough people recognize it.  She said that it really shows her age that she recognized Twin Peaks...and Madonna!  I guess so, I hadn't thought of that.

19.  I decided to take a food break, so I sat down on the steps, leaving everything set up.  My new friend Cameron came and sat with me, and Elaine stopped to say hello as well.  A man stopped and asked, "Who's in this routine?"  "I am!"  I said.  "Who else?"  "Just me."  Elaine obviously looks special but Cammie is just a normal guy.  Do we look like a band?  "What do you do?" he asked.  "I play the accordion."  "Just the accordion?"  Is it that weird that one person would play one instrument on the street?  "Yep."  "Good," he said, "That's better than bagpipes."  I guess he was braced for the worst. 

I took a break and went on a walk with Cammie to warm up, then resumed around 5:30 at my favourite spot at the arches.  Again, using the "I thought it was okay after 5:00 approach if I get in trouble.

20. Police everywhere!  As I was setting up, I saw two police officers.  One was talking to Super Scott, who had been beginning a show as I had left before.  The second was talking to a trampy looking old man in a close, whose trousers were unzipped.  I tried to put it together, and the most likely explanation is that this man had urinated in the middle of Scott's show?  Something like that.  Eek!

The other police were across the street from me, dealing with another guy who did not look to be in great shape (slumped over on a bench).  The officers, wearing neon vests and blue latex gloves, appeared to be taking good care of him.  After a while, an ambulance came.  I guess we're seeing the Trainspotting side of the city (as declared by someone who has never read or seen Trainspotting).

21. Another old guy carrying a can of beer walked by.  "Hello," he said.  "Hello," I replied.  "Bye."  Kept walking.  That was easy.

22.  There was this one small tour group wearing matching rain jackets.  One woman had tipped me earlier.  Now, then were walking down the sidewalk holding each other's waists, a la a conga line.  I did the only thing I could think of to do: attempt to play the Can-can song.  It turns out they can, can, can do the can-can!  That was a rare incident of success in that kind of endeavor.  And the woman from before tipped me again, so I said, "Thanks again," and she tipped me again again because I had remembered her!  Not sure where they're from, but it's my new favorite country.

23.  Oh, this is old, from last Saturday I think.  I've been wanting Japanese people to say "Arigato" just so I can show off and say "Doitashimashite!"  The other day, the people said they were Japanese and said "Thank you" in English, which I deemed the closest I was going to get.  I said it, they liked it.  Bam.

24.  Two young people in heavy-metal band t-shirts came up and started speaking Italian.  Nice that they wanted to talk, but strange that they assumed I would understand them!  I actually did pretty well, because of my vast knowledge of romance languages (hyperbole in action, folks).  It was clear that he wanted to play Wee Red, and since she's Italian too I handed her over.  He definitely knows how to play, but couldn't quite get a song out.  Told me more stuff in Italian.  It was strange, for people unwilling to speak another language, they were really underwhelmed by all MY Italian (Molto grazie, buona sera, and the list goes on).

25.  I was directly across from Caffe Nero.  It was pretty cold out and I wanted a hot chocolate, but I didn't have someone to watch my stuff when I went to get it.  I decided to call them and ask if they would deliver one across the street.  I didn't, however, have their number, so I paid 19p to text my brother internationally, who I knew would be at a computer and could fetch me the number.  Strangely enough, the Royal Mile Caffe Nero isn't listed on Google.  Is it new or something?  So that failed.  I sort of wanted to move to the Door anyway, so I packed up and got my own hot chocolate.

If you're bored with this hot chocolate story, you can move on.  If not, here's the rest of it: my last hot chocolate from there was strangely oily (even before I added whisky).  I told them this, and, feeling cheeky, asked if I could pay half price for the one I was getting.  Rather than getting half off a small, they gave me a large on the house!  And rather than just verbally announcing this, the guy dramatically grabbed a frequent shopper card and stamped all of the squares.  I definitely didn't deserve that, especially after all the times I used their bathroom during the festival without being a customer!

26.  At the Door, who walked by but Not Larry Farber.  This is an inside joke mostly with myself, but also with my parents.  Only including it to make myself laugh at a future date.  It'll be really awkward though if Larry Farber reads this.

27.  I heard a sound.  Bagpipes!  It turns out it was just a siren, as heard through an accordion.  That's how you know you've been in Scotland too long.

28.  I got to speak some Spanish!  A dad read my sign and translated it into Spanish for his family.  The emphasis he gave his son indicated that he, too, was a student, so I piped up in Spanish to remind him that it's muy importante estudiar.  Oui.

29.  A friendly man with a US Southern accent, who had also walked by last night, said something like, "You never rest, you've been out for two days straight!"  Two days?  TWO DAYS??  (It's been three days.)

30.  Penultimately, I talked to a man from Illinois.  He was waiting for his family/travel party to get back from a day tour through the Highlands.  I asked why he stayed behind, and he said he had been golfing in St. Andrews.  He said he'd listen to me while he waited, so we had the typical conversation: "Do you have any requests?"
"Well, I don't know a lot of accordion music."
"Well I don't PLAY a lot of accordion music!"
"Really?  Can you do The Who?"  "No."  "Zeppelin?"  "No."  I forget the third.  "How about Rolling Stones?"

After "Paint it Black" he gave me a lot of song suggestions.  He thought I should definitely learn something from Tommy, Freebird, the theme from CSI ("Or is is NCIS now?"), "the one from Casablanca, folks would love that on a rainy night!," and Phantom of the Opera ("perfect for those haunted underground tours!").  A couple songs later, he asked, "Can't you do Edelweiss or something?"  I just loved that.  The impatience of it.  I don't think Edelweiss has ever been in such demand.

Since it was raining, I was playing "Singin' In the Rain" which naturally no one picked up on.  Except Illinois, of course.  "You're playing all my favorite songs, even if I don't know what they are!" or something.  He was a strange companion for my last fifteen minutes, but a totally nice man.  Even if he skips the highlands to go golfing.

31.  Lastly, I decided to stop since it was raining and I was bored.  But I decided to play La Vie en Rose one last time, since it's so nice after dark, and I got one last pefectly-timed tip in the last measure of it.  Nice way to conclude a good day busking!

I'm officially taking tomorrow off.  It'll be a nice day; I'm having breakfast with my friend Rob in the morning (obvs when you have breakfast), then climbing Arthur's Seat for the first time with another friend, then hanging out with a Scottish marine who plays drums in the royal pipe band.  Then hopefully I'll put in a long day Saturday!

P.S. On the coin front, I got Athletics today, as well as a third Taekwondo.  Next time I'll put a sign out soliciting new ones!  Running out of time to get all thirty!
  

A Totally Normal Weekday Evening

I got a late start today, leaving the house around 5:00.  I decided to go right to Rose St., since it's often good that time of day.  I got one of my usual spots, but then it ended up being quite slow.  There were some people going by, but they weren't tipping.  Was it my dorky socks?  After a bit, a homeless person set up across Castle Street, and I was aware that he wouldn't like my presence.  Since I wasn't making money anyway, I left and headed to the Mile.  I figured this wasn't the best time for money-making, but I was determined to go out anyway since I want to earn as much as I can to travel in the Fall.  There was a painter on the cathedral steps, and a guy playing banjo and harmonica at the arches.  He was obviously new, though, since he was directly in front of the memorial.  Despite having nearly violated that many times, I found myself cringing at the disrespect of blocking a memorial. 

I assessed foot traffic levels at Cockburn St. and the police box, and decided to once again set up at The Door.  Might just be my new spot at this rate!  It was about 6:30 at this point.  I actually had a very nice evening of playing!  I forget this, in the Fall and Winter, mainly, that I get good tips once the sun has gone down.  People are strolling, everything is mellow, and folks like accordion wafting from somewhere.  Good to remember that!  So here we go:

Wednesday, 5 September, 2012:
1.  I was just beginning "So Long, Marianne" when a busker walked by, a teenage boy with a guitar who I'd seen before.  He obviously recognized it and smiled, and flashed me a thumbs up.  I was happy, because no one ever recognizes this one.  He went on to set up on a bollard near the police box.

2. A family went by with a really cute little boy.  He shamelessly stopped to listen, as his family continued on.  He would occasionally glance down to see where they were, but didn't budge.  Big smile.  He walked right up to me after a song but just stood there, so I stepped down and invited him to push a button.  He hit a couple treble keys then went to investigate the bass side: good choice.  He pushed every single button, in a logical order, actually, before his mother came up to collect him.  The world's next accordion player?  I think so.

3. Members of what appeared to be a high school trip (young men in matching red windbreaker track suits) from somewhere in Eastern Europe, I would guess, walked by as I played "The Final Countdown."  A few of them whistled along.  That is all, just a cool effect.

4. A young couple stopped by and commented on student loans.  The guy had a jacket with a German flag, so naturally I assumed they were German and I spoke really slowly.  Turns out he's from New York and she's from....the same state I'm from (HA, take that JP.  Just went back and removed the details for ya).  She was baffled to have run into someone from the same state, but I'm used to it by now.

5. As I was talking to them, who showed up but Scott.  Super Scott.  Too bad, I had thought all the circle guys had cleared out, but Scott was going to do one more show.  I really didn't want to move, since the other spots I like were taken.  So I waited.  I left all of my stuff set up and people did continue to read and respond to my signs.  A couple even tipped!  The aforementioned people thought I should keep playing, loudly.  Probably could have.  It was just frustrating because I had finally gotten set up, and Scott was doing a show for like a handful of people.  And his jokes are terrible!  I wouldn't have minded so much if it was one of the pros.  I got really cold just sitting and waiting though, so I decided to send Scott to get me a warm drink after, but then he just took off.  Oh well.

6.  One guy stopped to listen for a while, then came and asked if I'm local.  Turns out it's almost his birthday and he might want to hire me to play.  Cool!  I swore off birthday parties after a disaster earlier this year (blog post still yet to come), but I think it would be okay for young people. 

7. Oh, this was from earlier, on Rose St.: I saw a very interested hairdo!  A guy with very short dark hair walked by.  At first I thought he was wearing a yarmulke, then realized that the circle was just bleached hair.  Weirddd!  And in the middle of that was the beginning of a bald spot.  Maybe the bleached circle was just a dose of hair-growth cream gone wrong?  Interesting, whatever it was.

8. A young lady stopped to listen and saw the San Francisco patch on my backpack.  I told her I lived there in 2011.  "All of it?" she asked.  Funny, that's not usually the follow-up question.  "Well, a few months."  It turns out she's from Sacremento, and she's just beginning a semester abroad at Oxford.  Lucky duck!  Made me feel oooooold. 

9.  An American couple took some pictures, and they were about to go on their way when the woman decided to ask me for directions (for that, not the photos, they tipped).  I provided directions, since I'm totally a local now, but in doing so demonstrated my accent.  They asked what I'm doing here, and I gave them the standard answer, and the woman showered me with encouragement and praise for doing what I'm doing.  It's so important when strangers remind me of this!  Thank you, lady!

10.  Three things happened at once.  First, at night I try to play only slow, mellow songs, and there are some I bring out only for such occasions.  One is "Lies" from the movie "Once."  I began to play it when a couple stopped to listen.  Now, I hadn't played this song in a long time, so I really had to focus on it.  Also, the couple was so cute, clearly on a nice romantic date, just snuggling up and listening to some accordion.  I didn't want to mess up their date by sucking, so I had to focus even more on playing well.  However, while all of this was going on, a police car came up this [pedestrian] part of the road and stopped right across from me.  Two officers came out and went swiftly to the three [red] telephone boxes.  At first I thought they were just hiding behind them before jumping out to surprise the bad guys, but they seemed to just be checking them.  Was there a bomb?  No, nothing.  After just a minute they walked back to the car, laughing.  So of course I had to watch that whole thing while also trying to romantically execute a song I hadn't done for a while!  Worked for that tip!

11.  Lastly, I played "La Vie en Rose."  I was about to play one more song before packing up, but I heard someone continuing to whistle that famous melody.  Yesss.  That's what I call a successful performance. 

I packed up at nine, totally freezing, and headed homeward.  I daresay I can get away with bumming around the house all day (or, really, being a good tourist and getting out there) and still get a good busk in, if these hours stay good.  Soon I'll have money saved up to travel! 

P.S. One last thing: the Royal Mint issued a special line of 2012 London Olympics/Paralympics 50p coins.  They were designed by the public and selected in a contest, and they've been in circulation since the end of 2010.  Naturally, buskers see quite a few of them.  I have eight so far (six different designs) out of thirty.  Damn.  I'll see how many I can get; it's fun to go through my change after and see if I got new ones!  But it makes my heart sink when I think I have a new one but it's just a boring libraries, firefighters, or girl scouts coin.  Lame.  But tonight I got Aquatics!

P.P.S.  I was cold.  My head was cold (it gets cold with short hair!).  But I look bad in hats.  What should I do?  I had a great idea: piano hat!  I could ask one of my knitter friends to do it on commission, or I could try to dust off the ol' needles and make one myself.  Exciting!

The end!
 

Out of Debt...Out of Danger!

After a day off to "update the blog" (got very little done), I resumed work this afternoon on the Mile.  It was strangely quiet, however.  It was warm in the sun but otherwise cold, and the wind was blowing.  Few people were out.  Only one busker was out, Edgar, who had set up on the stairs on the side of the cathedral.  I reversed my direction to set up at the police box, which was painted purple at some point during the festival, when I saw a new pitch calling to me: the famous Door. 

This nondescript door is a step up from the clearly slanted High St., giving it a quirky look.  It is next to a close, with an "American" restaurant on the other side.  I first became aware of the Door my first week in town, when I was strolling on the Royal Mile (to be honest, I was just lost trying to get back to my hostel).  A man was playing guitar there, and I stopped to talk.  He was super nice and told me it was a good pitch, that the folks at the restaurant didn't mind buskers.  I made a mental note to come back there, a place I imagined to be way closer to the castle than it is.

And then, months later, Todd pointed it out.  He said that it's a famous pitch; buskers come from all over the world to play at the Door.  Well, today seemed to be the day to join the masses before me who have had this honor.  Usually the Door is behind vendor stalls, but there were fewer out than usual.  It's also too close to the circle pitch, but no one was doing a show.  Best of all, it was on the sunny side of the street!  So I went for it.  Played here for a bit, fine, nothing memorable, and then Tim said he was going to do a show.  Tim is a street performer from Canada who drives a motorcycle hauling a huge silver box with a giant Canadian flag on it.  Not sure how he shipped both it and the motorcycle over from Canada.  I said it was fine for him to take over that area, but that I just wanted to play "La Vie en Rose" before packing up.  You'd think that was a reasonable request, but he made a big show of setting up and blowing his whistle and everything to get a crowd and all passersby's attention went to him.  Come on, couldn't he have waited two minutes?  I nail that song.

Edgar had packed up so I set up at the cathedral where he had been, but it was quite slow.  And it was in the shade, so it got cold.  Right as I decided to move anyway, a piper set up at the courtroom so I wouldn't have been able to continue there anyway.  The presence of the piper indicated that it was 5:00, so I decided to try my luck at my favorite pitch.  I was literally the only walk-by act out so it was weird to not be in my normal pitch anyway, but I didn't want to risk getting in trouble with Richard Dreyfuss.  But after 5:00 I could pretend that I thought the problem was only during working hours.  Worth a shot.  I finished up there until I got too cold to move my fingers fast enough, then called it a day.  It was a totally adequate day; and inspiring since I was playing pretty well.  I played really terribly all weekend, so it was a relief that I hadn't permanently backslid.  Here are a few notes from all the pitches:

Tuesday, 4 September, 2012:
1. A young man recognized the song I was playing and announced it as he retreated out of view into the council courtyard: "What is Love!"  "Yeah!"  I responded, then added, "Baby don't hurt me."  Few second delay..."Don't hurt me..."  "No more!"  Awesome.

2.  Two young women walked by with a plastic tray of sandwiches, such that would be left over after a work function of sorts.  They stopped right in front of me, and time slowed down as they lifted the plastic lid off.  Oh my god, they were going to give me a sandwich!!!  They looked so good!  But...denied!  The one girl just wanted one, so they covered them up again and kept walking.  Right in front of the hungry busker!

3.  An old man walked by, took in my signs, and kept going.  But then he came back a second later and handed me a leaflet from a church.  The title: "Out of debt...out of danger!"  I don't usually give these "gifts" a second thought, but I had to smile at the relevance.  My student loan sign (and buskerhood) indicated debt, and he happened to have a brochure on eradicating debt.  There we go.

4. After "l'Autre Valse d'Amelie," an older man who had stopped with his wife asked if it was from Amelie.  He said that he's been trying to find the music.  Turns out he plays accordion too.  A real accordion player actually listened for that long!  Very nice people.


5. A woman (with a foreign accent, maybe she's Brazilian??) recognized Tico Tico.  We talked about my studies and loans, and I accidentally misled her into thinking I'm Scottish but I chose to study in the US.  Oops!  And I said I went to school in Boston.  Turns out she lives in New York.

6.  After "I Believe (When I Fall in Love...)" a young American man walked by with two thumbs up, and said, "Two thumbs up!"  I asked if he was a Stevie Wonder fan, and he says he is.  I liked this, since no one ever responds to that song and it's one of my better ones.  The whole group was so nice, and responded favorably when I yelled "And go Giants!" after them.  The dad was wearing a Giants t-shirt with "Dad" written across the back.

7.  Right after that I heard some other Americans walk by, and one said, "You can't just say 'naranja!'"  I had to wonder about the meaning of this statement, especially since the Spanish word was pronounced horribly, just like "piranha."

8.  Todd's baby Judy came over for a visit, so I picked up the shakers.  She saw them and immediately just stuck her hands out from her stroller.  She was adorable with them; it took her a while to figure out what to do, but she had the cutest little smile once she was shaking away.  

9. A guy recognized The Godfather, as evidenced by the fact that he mouthed "The Godfather" to his friend.  That's another one that doesn't get recognized enough.

10.  A middle-aged man came up and asked, "Are you in a band?"  Oooh, I'm about to get recognized for KAIHO! "Why yes I am."  "Good, do you play jigs and reels up to dance speed?"  "Well, it's more of a......rock band."  "A rock band, oh."  He gave me the card for his Ceilidh band, the Thunderdogs.  It actually looked quite familiar, and I realized we'd met before.  He explained that it's hard to keep up a quintet during this economic recession, and that he's looking to put together a trio.  I told him I'm leaving soon anyway, but recommended Tom, the other accordion player.  So many music options now!

The end.  It was nice to be back out there, but I'm getting nervous about my tour in the Fall.  If I'm cold now, I'm going to be really cold in like Germany in November!  I'll have to abandon my goal of packing light and bring lots of layers.  Must find a hat that works with short hair. 


I realized that I haven't busked a September before.  In 2010 and 2011 the tourism season in Provincetown was done, and I was working a lot at my day job.  There may be a couple odd Saturdays, but this will be my first full September of busking.  Cool!

Time to get dressed and go out and compile material for the next blog post. 

September's Snotty Sunday

Sunday at the Stockbridge market!  It was a very nice day, and the market was hopping.  It seemed there were more stalls than usual, and I had to squeeze in next to a coffee van to get a spot near the entrance.  There was the usual plethora of children and babies, in addition to puppies.  At one point two puppies were playing, a boxer and someone brown and scruffy, and it was the cutest thing I had ever seen.  I played really badly for the first hour or so; probably just not warmed up, although it seemed worse than usual.  Oh well.

Sunday, 2 September, 2012:
1. A brother and sister wearing yellow were the first kids to linger long enough to join in.  I now carry around all my percussion instruments and distribute them accordingly.  They happily sat down and shook them, but the little boy's nostril was threatening to give out at any second.  Finally, I looked over and saw snot running down his face.  I made a mental note to wash the shakers that evening.


2. Another group of kids was on their tail.  It was an enormous group, six kids, four parents, and they had their hands full.  The two girls, one little boy, and the baby sat in front of me while another boy and another baby hung back.  The parents took advantage of this distraction to go off on various lunch runs, coming back with delicious looking food.  I hadn't thought about it when I handed the percussion instruments over, but I realized that the kids were definitely getting germs from the snotty boy.  And here they were eating bread with their hands.  Oops!  Here are three of them:

They stayed in front of me for a very long time, and came back for a second session later on, after I took a break, but the girls wouldn't talk to me!  When I considered my lunch options I asked them how the soup had been, and they just looked at each other and stifled laughter.  Come on!  I later asked them if I needed to put on more lipstick and if there was chocolate on my face...nothing.  They were rearranging tips as they came in, so when someone dropped a fiver I thought they'd be eager to help and asked them to please put a few pound coins on top of it so it wouldn't blow away.  Nope, now they don't want to help.  Sort of funny.  But they did answer when I asked if they were sisters.  They confirmed that they were, and that all the kids were brothers and sisters (not true).  The one true thing they declared, though, was that the one little boy was a "silly monster."

3. A creaky old woman came over and asked, "Did I hear you play 'Amazing Grace?'"  "No."  The end.

4. After "Paint it Black," a man asked, "Was that the Rolling Stones?"  "Yes it was!" I yelled back (because he was sort of far away, not because he deserved to be yelled at).  "Can you do French cafe music too?" he asked.  "Of course!"  This was just sort of funny because my set list literally has "Parlez-moi d'Amour" directly after "Paint it Black."  For that exact reason.

5. A man who I took to be blind (linking arms with someone else, holding white stick in other hand) had a listen.  He heard me and did the universal accordion arm movement.  I finished a song and he wanted to leave a tip, so he walked towards me and asked, "Is it here?"  I took this to mean the tip box, so I directed him a little more forward, and he dropped in a coin.  That's a first!  He asked if I'm French, I said I'm American, and he went on his way.

6. As I was playing "What is Love?" a normal, motherly, older woman put on a facial expression and waved her arms in the air.  So cool, she was doing an awesome dance to the song!!!  I realized a second later that she had merely tripped over the curb.  My next thought was that my cousin Thea was really going to like that.

7. A young woman came up and said, "You probably get this all the time, but do you know any songs from Amelie?"  I did the standard "play the first measure of all the ones I know and let her choose."  She reiterated that I must get it a lot, but I don't!  Usually people comment once I'm already playing them, but it's nice to have them requested.

8. A family walked by with a brand new baby.  Couldn't have been more than a week old.  I took pleasure in the fact that I provided what was probably the first accordion music of that little person's life.

9. A young woman came up and asked about the protocol for busking the market.  After confirming that she's American, I asked her the million dollar question: WHAT KIND OF VISA DO YOU HAVE????  It turns out she is here with her partner, who is doing a PhD program.  It's a four-year program, and the partner can bring whatever family she wants.  Luckyyy!  She gets to stay here legally and busk!  I'd like to hear her sometime; she plays blues guitar and sings, mostly originals, but when she busks she does some Nina Simone and Billie Holiday too.

I packed up, but wanted to take advantage of the day to play more, so headed to Rose St. where I did just about one run-through.  Surprisingly slow, actually!  I was struck once again by how amazing the acoustics are there.  Three things to report from here:

1. I met a mother and young son from Greece at the market a couple months ago, and seen them a few times since.  They came by Rose St., and the son had drastically changed his hair: it was now a cool mix of maroon and blue!  Nice!  The mom said that whenever they see me the boy wants to give a tip, very nice.

2. After describing my studies to many people who ask about the student loan sign, I realized that the fact that I double-minored is perfect for me.  Whereas most people try to do few things well in life, I tend to do many things mediocrely.  Hm.

3. Flaca has new legs!  I'll talk more about this in the big Fringe post that's coming up, but I realized today that although they're great for Flaca, they make her a lot harder to use at the moment.  Since she now has two controllers I can't do her with one hand while playing with the other hand, and if I hand her off to kids now I worry more than before about them messing her up.  Ah well!  It'll be worth it once the project's fully done.

And then...we're not done yet...I went to the Mile for a bit.  I shouldn't have, because it made me late to meet people for the fireworks later, but I wanted to stake my claim on my pitches.  I went back to outside McGregor's for just a wee session, but there are a few notes:

1. A woman wearing a Canada sweatshirt turned around and gave me a thumbs up for "O Canada!"

2. An Australian man stopped to talk, and asked about piano accordions.  It's funny how they call it the full "piano accordion" Down Under; I have another friend who does it too.  They're all accordions!  We talked about the mechanics and stuff.  He plays banjo.

3. And lastly, I've been playing "We Are Young," the No. 1 song that I only know from the car ad at the movies.  But a guy recognized it!  "Fun!" he yelled.  Yep, that's the band.  Glad to know it's working regardless of the fact I haven't officially declared my arrangement complete.

The end!  Almost caught up!