Tuesday was a really good day busking. As in, lots of crazy stuff happened. It was a beautiful day, and I was in the sun the whole time. I could feel new freckles popping up. That reminded me of Ptown. Stories in this entry:
1. Japanese tourists
2. The Hot Dog Guy
3. Anthony and his saxophone
and others.
Twice before I had played at the Ferry Building farmer's market, right among the booths, with no problem. "Today" (as I'll call it), I set up across from an apple stand. The man in charge of passing out apple slices this day (named Jamie, as I learned) LOVED IT. He was dancing around, and clapping and yelling "Bravo!" after every song. It's nice to have an audience. However, I wasn't making much money. This was the debut of my new signs, both the pretty logo one and the clever "Playing back my student loans!" that Tim had suggested. So far they were not making a difference. Right as I launched into "Eleanor Neary's" for the first time that day, a friendly cop came over. He asked if I had a port permit. This was the first I had heard about a port permit. He said it's necessary to play anywhere along the water, and that it includes Fisherman's Wharf. I told him that no one had mentioned it before, and he confessed that he actually likes my music and didn't want to stop me, but a farmer complained :( As I was packing up, Jamie ranted about how some farmers are just so grumpy. The cop did tell me, however, in confidence, that the island between the crosswalks was fair game. At the end of Market St. there is the "mainland," one crosswalk, a large sidewalk/island thing, another crosswalk, then the Ferry Building with the farmer's market. On weekends there is a man with a huge array of drums who sets up in that area, and another busker dare not try to compete. Luckily this was a Tuesday and there was no one else to be found. I set up with my back to the ferry building so everyone crossing over to it had to see and hear me. This was a little scary, (a la Don Quixote faced with windmills) because when the light changed a huge crowd of people would storm towards me. However, the move was great for business. As they waited on the mainland, they noticed me and could probably hear me, so they'd have time to decide to give me money and get their wallets out by the time they reached me. They also had to cross back after their farmer's market experience, so if they hadn't given me money the first time around, they'd have a second chance. As soon as one light finished, the other would change, letting the shoppers come back. I had a constant stream of foot traffic. Awesome. I think the sign did help, as two people talked to me about school.
Japanese Tourists
A group of young Asian men gathered around me. I made sure they were Japanese before trying to play "Sakura." One of them recognized it, but they were generally could have cared less that I was playing it. (It would have been a better story if they were Korean and I offended them.) Bailing on that means of expressing how familiar I am with Japan, I said "Nippongo wa wakarimasen" (which means either "I am Japanese," "I am not Japanese," "I speak Japanese," or "I do not speak Japansese"). Luckily, it means the last. They DID like that. I asked "Where in Japan are you from?" No answer. I asked "Tokyo?" and a few smiled and raised their hands. I tried "Kanegasaki," and much to my surprise, they reacted and pointed to one guy. (Kanegasaki is Amherst's tiny sister city, where I went on the exchange in 8th grade. I would not be surprised if most Japanese people haven't heard of it, so I was very surprised at this reaction.) I asked, "ARE YOU FROM KANEGASAKI?" No answer. "I WENT TO KANEGASAKI!" Every time I said the name, they got excited and repeated "Kanegasaki!!" It was clear that this was not an English-speaking group. I wished that I knew some Japanese; even the verb "to go" would have helped. I should have just listed all the people I know there. "Haruka Onodera?" (my host sister). "Mayor Takahashi? Hisayoshi Abe? Yoshie Chiba?" and everyone else in my mom's address book.
Before going on their way, they discussed something, and finally reached for the translator. "Pretty girl!" they announced. As they continued on I forgot the word "sayonara," so I said "oyasuminasai!" (Goodnight). They responded "oyasuminasai!" and went on their way. I love tourists.
The Note from the Hot Dog Guy
A woman came over and gave me a piece of paper. She said, "This is from the hot dog guy," and pointed to a vendor a little ways away, who waved. The note said, "ONE FREE HOT DOG for a slamming accordion jam! --The Hot Dog Guy." Awesome. I meant to go talk to him, and see if I could redeem this certificate some other day, since I had packed a lunch (and more importantly to see if he was cute, since this would be a great story to tell at our wedding), but I forgot in the excitement of the saxophone player. Even if I never find him, it'll be a great artifact in the Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox museum one day.
Mediocre Juggler
A cute, puberty-ridden boy came up to me and said, "I am a middle school student. I am wondering if I could juggle next to you for a minute." I agreed, and his red beanbags took off. I switched to "Beer Barrel Polka" to sound most like a circus that I could. People's eyes lingered for longer than usual, which is further confirmation that my cousin Gideon, an expert juggler, should quit his day job and join me on the streets. It became clear that this kid wasn't a very good juggler; he kept dropping them and he didn't even do any tricks. Come on. His friend filmed it (I haven't found it on youtube yet), and when he took off he refused the couple bucks we had made while he was by my side. I hope that he keeps practicing and I run into him in Dublin or Toronto at Global Buskers Festivals.
Anthony the Saxophone Player
I first talked to Anthony el fin de semana pasada
[damn, I'm copying this from the hand-written version I did the other day, and at this point I decided to start writing in Spanish.]
I first talked to Anthony the previous weekend at the same farmer's market. He had asked me if they were "carding" buskers for permits, and I told them they weren't. That was the extent of our conversation. Anthony pushes around a shopping cart with his blue saxophone, a guitar, some paint buckets, etc. As with many people in San Francisco, due to fashion statements and such, it was hard to tell if he's homeless or not, as I had first suspected. He came by and talked to me a bit, we introduced ourselves and compared spots. I directed him in the direction away from where I had started, away from the anonymous grumpy farmer.
Later, when I was packing up he came by again and proposed that we play a song together. Okay. I have had trouble playing with other people in the past, because
a. the accordion is loud
b. not all instruments are tuned the same
c. weird homemade guitars can't always be tuned
d. who does what??
e. we don't know songs in common
None of these was a problem with Anthony. We were already in tune together, the saxophone is also loud, he clearly does the melody, and we know ALL songs in common. We tried a few songs from both our lists ("For the Longest Time," "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," and "Chim Chim Cheree") but our hit by far was The Turtles' "Happy Together. There was only one key I could do it in, because of the range of chords (Dm), but he was able to play in any key. I played chords on both hands (Dm C Bb A7) and he played the melody, and improvised all over the place. We just kept the chord progression going over and over, (skipping the chorus), and really got in a groove. For the first time, I knew what it felt like to "jam." (My "cool" quotient increased quite a bit.) People liked this collaboration even more than they liked the collaboration with the mediocre juggler, and it was hard to finally call it quits. We made plans to play together again, and discussed songs. He plays lots of motown classics, most of which I knew, that will be great together. This will also be good for my Theory training, since I'll be playing chords/improvising within a key on the keyboard side, which is something I don't usually do. You'll be hearing more about him for sure.
***
This particular sidewalk island is popular among skateboarders and trick bikers. Both parties kept wheeling by me and doing tricks. The smell of marijuana kept wafting by. I am undoubtedly always in interesting company when I play.
A man requested "Fernando's Hideaway." I have to look that one up, does anyone know it?
One last thing, I recently discovered the band "Beirut." I love them, and you should look them up. Their songs are also possible to play, and I have been adding "Nantes" and "Elephant Gun" to my repertoire. I can't wait for someone to recognize them!
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