Played on Monday! I was really surprised I was up for it, since I had gotten up for work at 6:00 that morning. Phew. I just felt like I hadn't been in a really long time, and it was a gorgeous day, so I went. I wore my red and white polka dot dress, which always gets me compliments, and set up at the Pig. I really have to get my trailer done, since I parked super far away.
Not a ton of crazy stuff happened, but then again I didn't stay very long. But here's what happened!
Monday, June 20th, 2011:
When I set up, there was an older couple sitting on the benches. I already had a small crowd: a table inside the Pig waiting for me to play and a family nearby watching in addition to the older folks. I usually start with "Vals de Libunca," the Milladoiro song that I learned first and that my dad loves, but with this many ears on me I wanted to do something recognizable. I played what is probably the Ace song in my repertoire: Beyond the Sea. These older, recognizable songs went over very well ("Fly Me To the Moon" and "La Vie en Rose") being the others. It was just one of those days.
1. I might as well go right into the big drama of the day: the owner of the Patio restaurant. He gave me trouble last year, and has not backed off this year, it seems. He came over and offered to pay me to leave. Hm, maybe I should have considered that. He said that my music was "headachy" and it was distracting his staff. Unfortunately, he knows the rule that buskers can't be heard more than 50 feet. We're exactly 50 feet apart. If it got to the point that he called the police on me, technically he'd win. Ugh. He also complained about my playing the same song over and over. Ha, he's wrong about that. I told him that too: last summer I did in fact loop the Lady Gaga medley over and over, and his first complaint involved that repetition. Since that, I've been careful to not repeat songs for as long as possible for the sake of storeowners/other workers nearby. Anyway, I told him that if he sent someone down to Town Hall to check if there was anyone there, I'd move. He actually did, and two of his employees came to deliver that news. They were super nice about it, and one confessed feeling uncomfortable having to be involved in it. They were surprised when I told them that Patio customers often complimented my playing, and said that they would tell the boss that. They are Ian and Arturo (the latter from Lithuania), and they were super nice. Once I moved they came to talk to me more and apologize. Perhaps they'll be characters in my story this year. The whole thing is really a pain in the ass, since that spot is so good. I really don't want to deal with him all summer. Maybe next time I'll go talk to him and tell him nicely that his customers, staff, and neighboring businesses all like it, so maybe we could come to a compromise. Maybe he'll decide to leave the restaurant business! The irony is that he seems to be German or something: a culture rich with accordion. C'est la vie.
2. As you know, I did move. There are two spots at Town Hall: the big one right in front with ample visibility and audience, and the one on the corner that's a little more private and secluded (Cady's corner). I prefer the less public one, since I'm not yet an expert at my instrument. However, both were open today and I decided to go big or go home (specifically, go big). I set up at the big spot next to Ellie's memorial, where tons of people sat on benches. This meant I had to play well. I use my busking time to try out new songs and practice ones that aren't solid yet, but here people weren't listening to every note. I tried a few weaker songs, bombed, and tried to seamlessly transition into songs I can do in my sleep.
3. Three women were among the crowd on the benches, and Diane came to talk to me. She said she busked when she was younger, and recently picked up the Harmonium. She might try out busking again! One of her friends was Lois, who suffers from Alzheimer's but loves to hear music and sing. Diane danced to all my songs, and lead those around me in rounds of applause. She hooted through both the Beer Barrel Polka and Dynamite. When I packed up I showed her Flaca, whom she gave a spin.
4. A not really mentioned character in my Provincetown story: the tour bus driver. This dumpy middle-aged woman drives the quaint tour bus through provincetown and explains the sights via loudspeaker. I love when she drives by, because I play and smile and her passengers wave and take pictures. She parked the bus in front of Town Hall right as I was playing the Wallace and Gromit theme song. A while later, she waddled over and said "Anyone who takes the time to learn Wallace and Gromit deserves a tip." Thanks! I hope to get to know her more.
5. There's a new henna guy this year! Last year, a young, fit, foreigner was employed strolling the streets of Ptown covered in henna to advertise henna tattoos at the West End Salon. He was usually orange and animal-print. There's a new guy this year, and he's been more purple. I hope to get to know him too!
6. I saw Butch! I'm going to write about Butch when I finally write about last summer, as he is a very important character. Great to see him.
7. A young French guy was excited about Buddy Holly! I was playing Dynamite and was pleased that I saw some young folks approaching, since they usually love it. This group didn't react, but the next song was "Heartbeat." One guy ran back with a big smile and gave me money. Love when listeners surprise me.
8. I finally officially met the man who has been known as "funny hair guy with the cool bike." He is GEORGE THE QUAKER! He was among the crowd sitting on the benches, and he commented on songs as well as Diane. He LOVED Dynamite, which surprised me. When I talked to the group after, he told me about a project he has in mind (Flaca brought it up). He is going to make seagull puppets and set up a puppet show next to the recycling bin in front of Town Hall. The seagulls will discuss recycling and taunt tourists. They're hoping to increase recycling through this initiative. He estimated that it would bring in $800 a day, half of which would be donated to something (I forget what). Great idea. However, no busker is going to let him stay out for as long as it'll take to make $800. George also talked to me about the media activism movement and how easy it is to spread a message or know what's going on through cell phones, cameras, the internet, etc. Cool!
One last thing, before I run off to work:
I realized on Monday that what I am doing is no longer about the money. I don't even look in the box while I'm playing to assess my earnings anymore, nor do I count right away. The only reason I count is because I have to take the money out before playing again, so I might as well see how I did. My goal with this is the story I can tell. I judge the success of each outing not by the money earned, but by the funny comments I get, characters I meet, and crazy stories gained. I'd rather make a little money but have a long post than make a lot of money but not having anything to share about that day. That said, I still have to "play back student loans!"
Okay time for work. Then tomorrow's the big bike trailer building day!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Terrible Student
I was just thinking that I'm my own worst music student. I say I'm self-taught, but I'm not really teaching myself. If I were to be studying with someone other than myself I would have set days to have lessons, practice daily if possible, and be ashamed if I hadn't mastered the previous week's lesson by the following lesson.
That said, I need to step it up! I need to organize my "to-learn" list and actually spend time building my skills. My work schedule's too crazy to pick a day now, but once it's set I'm going to declare "Accordion Lesson" time. Preferably on Wednesday afternoons, because that's when piano lessons were in high school. Starting now, I WILL pick up my accordion every day, and have at least one new song every time I head to Ptown to perform! Or else I don't get a sticker.
That said, I need to step it up! I need to organize my "to-learn" list and actually spend time building my skills. My work schedule's too crazy to pick a day now, but once it's set I'm going to declare "Accordion Lesson" time. Preferably on Wednesday afternoons, because that's when piano lessons were in high school. Starting now, I WILL pick up my accordion every day, and have at least one new song every time I head to Ptown to perform! Or else I don't get a sticker.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Tiens, bonjour! Ça va?
I should be sleeping, not blogging. Misty is snoring next to me and I'm simply beat (completed a triathlon today of biking, swimming, and accordion playing), but I'm going away for the weekend so if I don't write now I'll forget everything that happened tonight, and it was a great night.
It was also an emotional night, at least during my drive home. I get in this weird reflective mood sometimes after playing when I get stuck in a bubble of confusion and don't know if I should cry or eat a sandwich. Anyway, I was stringing words together on my drive that I thought described that bubble well that I intended for the blog, but now I'm too tired to compose. This will just be a quick recap of tonight.
Friday, June 10th, 2011
I got to town early tonight, around 4:30. I'm not sure why I did, because I planned to play from 6:00-9:00. I didn't want to start right away and get burnt out before the evening crowd even strolled by. So often I play across from the Squealing Pig, but I had never set foot in it. I decided to go have a beer. I did my first sketches of the accordion bike trailer I will be building, and piped up when the bartender and the guy next to me were talking about dumb injuries to tell them about my rake incident.
It came time to play, and I wandered to Town Hall to see if those pitches were free. They were, but I chose to play across from the Pig after all. Town Hall just seems to public. I went back and ate my delicious goat cheese and avocado sandwich and a kiwi and played. On the walk back I had a deep thought about curbs. Curbs are my worst enemy, since my accordion is on wheels. I hate having to pull it off one, because when it doesn't land on it's feet I fear for the whiplash my instrument inside the box suffers. Also I sometimes hurt myself going up the curbs. I pretty much have the Ptown curbs memorized, and know exactly where the sidewalk dips down and where it doesn't. Despite leaving, my brain hung onto the synapses that kept track of that. Few people pay attention to curbs, and I contemplated the connection I have to those in wheelchairs or strollers or who pull things like I do who also get to know the sidewalks. This deep thought about curbs was finalized by imagining a really boring poster: Curbs of Provincetown, on sale next to "Doors of Santa Fe" or something. It would show where there's extra pavement right where buses turn onto the pier that's easy to descend, for example, especially because the area next to it has no dips in the curb! I would totes buy that poster.
I found myself getting annoyed with daylight. I looove playing after dark, It feels more mysterious, that my sound is coming out of nothingness, and it's just generally romantic! In SF I'd go out at this time and it would be dark. I forgot that darkness is way later this time of year. Ah, well.
Anyway, here's what happened:
1. I ran into a ton of people! First was Alec Nelson of Leverett and his wife. Nice to see him! Second was a classmate of mine from Clark U., and thirdly was a mother and daughter who I know from my parents' rec softball days. The daughter is in college now and has a summer internship in Ptown. Excellent.
2. Beer Barrel Polka was super popular. I played it four times! I don't usually play it anymore unless it's requested. And old couple asked for it. Then this drunk guy at the Pig (who kept coming over) asked for a polka, and chose it over Pennsylvania. Then this other pair asked if I could play Rosamunda, which I had forgotten is the same thing. Lastly, Flaca danced to it. We'll talk about that later. I messed up the ending! I can't let myself go too long without playing the staples or I'll forget them!
3. Ah yes, the drunk guy kept coming back. He was fine. I asked him to bring my water bottle to the bar with him for a refilling. He said he'd bring it back full of vodka and seven up. Unsurprisingly, that was not allowed, which didn't bother me. I drink so much water when I play! I like to take quick breaks between songs to give my arms a break, but I don't like to just stand there, so I usually drink water in those times whether I want it or not. These are my most hydrated nights!
4. I ran into a family from Wellfleet who stopped to listen. There were three little girls, and they all told me what instruments they play. We talked about Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber, but they settled for Lady Gaga songs since they're all I know.
5. I got to practice my French! I started learning French literally last night. All I can say really is "je parle trés bien français" which isn't technically true. Some wonderful French folks came by, and I was able to use this phrase. Mid-conversation some French-Canadians joined and started speaking French. I played La Vie En Rose quietly in the background while they discussed something in French. This couple asked for "La Mar," which Americans know as "Beyond the Sea," which happens to be [the best song] in my repertoire. I played it, and they sang in French. If only May had witnessed that!
6. I learned Madonna's "Like a Prayer" last year but rarely play it. I played all my B-string songs tonight because I was worried that the hostess outside of the Pig was getting sick of my songs and I wanted to mix it up. Turns out, folks love Madonna. I've got to bump that one up on the set list.
7. That spot also happens to be a taxi stand. A van taxi pulled up and parked. This was annoying because I could no longer look in at the big TV screen in the Pig and watch the Bruins game to assess whether or not I should play the Canadian national anthem. But the driver got out and chilled for a bit. He requested Michael Jackson's "Bad." Then Hey Jude, which actually sort of worked. He sang. I have to remember to learn it.
8. I was aware of a man waiting outside his car to talk to me. Sure enough, after a song he came by and introduced himself as John Roberts (?), the man who wrote the Provincetown Busking Bylaws 15 years ago. My first thought was that I was in trouble, breaking a rule or something. But that was not the case. He's running a world fest thing and wants musical acts to play international songs. Can do!
9. Betty, Ptown's violin player, came by and said she reads my blog! I'm super flattered. Thanks, Betty! :)
10. A couple came up right as I began to play "Funiculi Funicula" for the first time in public. The man said "Oh no." As the end neared, he prepared aloud for the big finish, which disappointed all in earshot. Not quite ready yet! He said he played the accordion for nine years. That couple came back again later and asked what I went to school for. The woman laughed when I said "Psychology." That's actually the response I go for, recognizing the irony of doing what I'm doing despite having an expensive degree in a notable field. The man asked if I have a bigger accordion, and I told him I didn't but I'm starting to look for one. I'm not getting the timing right, but he asked, "So will you have to get a Master's for that?" And it sounded like he was making a genuinely good joke about upgrading to a 48-bass. Turns out he meant Psychology. Boooo. Gypsies don't need Masters' degrees.
11. People are responding well to my student loan sign in general! One woman gave me a ten dollar bill, saying that she's 44 grand in debt right now. Eek! Others confirmed that they, too, are paying back student loans. That sign was a great idea of Tim Finn's, host dad in San Francisco. I owe him big time.
12. The girl holding menus outside the Pig was super nice. She recognized "Lies" from Once (The Swell Season) and said she sings that song. I meant to talk to her after about singing and see if she wants to start a new trio/quartet with me, but then I didn't. I'll get her next time.
13. I want to purchase more arrangements. My best songs (Beyond the Sea, Fly Me To the Moon) came from online sheet music databases, and I paid for them. Paying sucks, but good arrangments rule. I try to use movement and chord things from these arrangements in my own, but it's hard.
14. Kyle, mentioned in the previous post, came by in a top hat with his ukelele. We tried playing together, but I drowned him out. He turned over the instrument and banged on it as percussion instead. Awesome. Then I gave him Flaca, the Mexican marionette who lives in my box (not sure if I've introduced her) and he made her dance on his hat and play her cymbals. It was really great. He's sort of a natural circus ringmaster, and he gave this radio-voice introduction all in Spanish that was really awesome ("Damas y caballeros, esta noche tenemos aqui Flaca! Baila, Flaca, baila!") except way more awesome. I tried to improvise the Mexican Hat Dance, and the combo certainly got people's attention. It turns out Kyle spent the winter in the Valley, so he knows all about the music/busking scene there.
That's all I can think of! I need some new songs! I'm super sick of my repertoire!
Oh wait, one more thing:
15. A couple said "Do you live in Wellfleet?" "Yes." "We met you last summer on the beach." On the Fourth of July I wandered around Mayo Beach in Wellfleet playing accordion while knee deep in the bay. I remembered having talked to super nice people, but didn't really see their faces. It was them! So cool.
Okay I think that's it. Au revoir, a tout a l'heure!
It was also an emotional night, at least during my drive home. I get in this weird reflective mood sometimes after playing when I get stuck in a bubble of confusion and don't know if I should cry or eat a sandwich. Anyway, I was stringing words together on my drive that I thought described that bubble well that I intended for the blog, but now I'm too tired to compose. This will just be a quick recap of tonight.
Friday, June 10th, 2011
I got to town early tonight, around 4:30. I'm not sure why I did, because I planned to play from 6:00-9:00. I didn't want to start right away and get burnt out before the evening crowd even strolled by. So often I play across from the Squealing Pig, but I had never set foot in it. I decided to go have a beer. I did my first sketches of the accordion bike trailer I will be building, and piped up when the bartender and the guy next to me were talking about dumb injuries to tell them about my rake incident.
It came time to play, and I wandered to Town Hall to see if those pitches were free. They were, but I chose to play across from the Pig after all. Town Hall just seems to public. I went back and ate my delicious goat cheese and avocado sandwich and a kiwi and played. On the walk back I had a deep thought about curbs. Curbs are my worst enemy, since my accordion is on wheels. I hate having to pull it off one, because when it doesn't land on it's feet I fear for the whiplash my instrument inside the box suffers. Also I sometimes hurt myself going up the curbs. I pretty much have the Ptown curbs memorized, and know exactly where the sidewalk dips down and where it doesn't. Despite leaving, my brain hung onto the synapses that kept track of that. Few people pay attention to curbs, and I contemplated the connection I have to those in wheelchairs or strollers or who pull things like I do who also get to know the sidewalks. This deep thought about curbs was finalized by imagining a really boring poster: Curbs of Provincetown, on sale next to "Doors of Santa Fe" or something. It would show where there's extra pavement right where buses turn onto the pier that's easy to descend, for example, especially because the area next to it has no dips in the curb! I would totes buy that poster.
I found myself getting annoyed with daylight. I looove playing after dark, It feels more mysterious, that my sound is coming out of nothingness, and it's just generally romantic! In SF I'd go out at this time and it would be dark. I forgot that darkness is way later this time of year. Ah, well.
Anyway, here's what happened:
1. I ran into a ton of people! First was Alec Nelson of Leverett and his wife. Nice to see him! Second was a classmate of mine from Clark U., and thirdly was a mother and daughter who I know from my parents' rec softball days. The daughter is in college now and has a summer internship in Ptown. Excellent.
2. Beer Barrel Polka was super popular. I played it four times! I don't usually play it anymore unless it's requested. And old couple asked for it. Then this drunk guy at the Pig (who kept coming over) asked for a polka, and chose it over Pennsylvania. Then this other pair asked if I could play Rosamunda, which I had forgotten is the same thing. Lastly, Flaca danced to it. We'll talk about that later. I messed up the ending! I can't let myself go too long without playing the staples or I'll forget them!
3. Ah yes, the drunk guy kept coming back. He was fine. I asked him to bring my water bottle to the bar with him for a refilling. He said he'd bring it back full of vodka and seven up. Unsurprisingly, that was not allowed, which didn't bother me. I drink so much water when I play! I like to take quick breaks between songs to give my arms a break, but I don't like to just stand there, so I usually drink water in those times whether I want it or not. These are my most hydrated nights!
4. I ran into a family from Wellfleet who stopped to listen. There were three little girls, and they all told me what instruments they play. We talked about Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber, but they settled for Lady Gaga songs since they're all I know.
5. I got to practice my French! I started learning French literally last night. All I can say really is "je parle trés bien français" which isn't technically true. Some wonderful French folks came by, and I was able to use this phrase. Mid-conversation some French-Canadians joined and started speaking French. I played La Vie En Rose quietly in the background while they discussed something in French. This couple asked for "La Mar," which Americans know as "Beyond the Sea," which happens to be [the best song] in my repertoire. I played it, and they sang in French. If only May had witnessed that!
6. I learned Madonna's "Like a Prayer" last year but rarely play it. I played all my B-string songs tonight because I was worried that the hostess outside of the Pig was getting sick of my songs and I wanted to mix it up. Turns out, folks love Madonna. I've got to bump that one up on the set list.
7. That spot also happens to be a taxi stand. A van taxi pulled up and parked. This was annoying because I could no longer look in at the big TV screen in the Pig and watch the Bruins game to assess whether or not I should play the Canadian national anthem. But the driver got out and chilled for a bit. He requested Michael Jackson's "Bad." Then Hey Jude, which actually sort of worked. He sang. I have to remember to learn it.
8. I was aware of a man waiting outside his car to talk to me. Sure enough, after a song he came by and introduced himself as John Roberts (?), the man who wrote the Provincetown Busking Bylaws 15 years ago. My first thought was that I was in trouble, breaking a rule or something. But that was not the case. He's running a world fest thing and wants musical acts to play international songs. Can do!
9. Betty, Ptown's violin player, came by and said she reads my blog! I'm super flattered. Thanks, Betty! :)
10. A couple came up right as I began to play "Funiculi Funicula" for the first time in public. The man said "Oh no." As the end neared, he prepared aloud for the big finish, which disappointed all in earshot. Not quite ready yet! He said he played the accordion for nine years. That couple came back again later and asked what I went to school for. The woman laughed when I said "Psychology." That's actually the response I go for, recognizing the irony of doing what I'm doing despite having an expensive degree in a notable field. The man asked if I have a bigger accordion, and I told him I didn't but I'm starting to look for one. I'm not getting the timing right, but he asked, "So will you have to get a Master's for that?" And it sounded like he was making a genuinely good joke about upgrading to a 48-bass. Turns out he meant Psychology. Boooo. Gypsies don't need Masters' degrees.
11. People are responding well to my student loan sign in general! One woman gave me a ten dollar bill, saying that she's 44 grand in debt right now. Eek! Others confirmed that they, too, are paying back student loans. That sign was a great idea of Tim Finn's, host dad in San Francisco. I owe him big time.
12. The girl holding menus outside the Pig was super nice. She recognized "Lies" from Once (The Swell Season) and said she sings that song. I meant to talk to her after about singing and see if she wants to start a new trio/quartet with me, but then I didn't. I'll get her next time.
13. I want to purchase more arrangements. My best songs (Beyond the Sea, Fly Me To the Moon) came from online sheet music databases, and I paid for them. Paying sucks, but good arrangments rule. I try to use movement and chord things from these arrangements in my own, but it's hard.
14. Kyle, mentioned in the previous post, came by in a top hat with his ukelele. We tried playing together, but I drowned him out. He turned over the instrument and banged on it as percussion instead. Awesome. Then I gave him Flaca, the Mexican marionette who lives in my box (not sure if I've introduced her) and he made her dance on his hat and play her cymbals. It was really great. He's sort of a natural circus ringmaster, and he gave this radio-voice introduction all in Spanish that was really awesome ("Damas y caballeros, esta noche tenemos aqui Flaca! Baila, Flaca, baila!") except way more awesome. I tried to improvise the Mexican Hat Dance, and the combo certainly got people's attention. It turns out Kyle spent the winter in the Valley, so he knows all about the music/busking scene there.
That's all I can think of! I need some new songs! I'm super sick of my repertoire!
Oh wait, one more thing:
15. A couple said "Do you live in Wellfleet?" "Yes." "We met you last summer on the beach." On the Fourth of July I wandered around Mayo Beach in Wellfleet playing accordion while knee deep in the bay. I remembered having talked to super nice people, but didn't really see their faces. It was them! So cool.
Okay I think that's it. Au revoir, a tout a l'heure!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Grand Return to Provincetown
Last Friday, my squeezebox and I jumped in the car and headed to Ptown for our long-awaited (by us, at least) return.
We went first to the Police station to get our new permit. I remembered it taking longer last year, but I just had to show them my driver's license. We found a parking space way down the East End on Bradford St. and spent a long time parallel parking.
We walked down Commercial St. grinning (well I did, at least), and heard someone yell, "Back from San Francisco?" It was Dana, referenced in a SF post, a guy who a busker in the Castro sent out to scout a spot. This scenario annoyed me, and we got in each other's hair. I had forgotten that we made the Cape connection later in the winter (he lives in Truro), and he happened to be out and about when I was. It was nice to see a familiar face!
Speaking of familiar faces, I'll talk about that first. I obviously saw a bunch of people I knew. Not May or Butch, who you don't know about since I didn't blog last summer, but some other folks:
1. Topher, my accordion student and friend. He biked by on his shiny gold and purple bike and recorded my playing my newest Amelie song on his iphone for Francois, his Parisian bf. It was so lovely to see him. We'll resume lessons soon, and also work together to learn French. And bike and swim and be best friends and have adventures under the name "Soph and Toph."
2. Kyle. Kyle runs a variety show on Thursday nights at a local bar. I wasn't a regular due to my past transportational issues, but I performed once and it seemed like a really cool scene. He was wearing a royal blue button down shirt with red suspenders and driving a cab. He said that this year he'll be organizing a circus with themed acts. Hope to hear from him soon!
3. Will. Will is the sweet now-15-year-old boy who took up busking last summer. I saw him his first time, and we started talking. He plays guitar and sings and plays keyboard sometimes, too. We rode the same bus sometimes. I took him under my wing, and he gave me a beautiful little toy accordion last summer which I displayed in my case. He was out playing a little but mostly gallivanting, with local teens, and he gave me a nice big hug.
4. The guy on the bike with the funny hair. I know this doesn't narrow it down very much in Ptown, but there's this one guy I would see all the time. He never acknowledged me last year, but on Friday he biked by and yelled "Hi Soph!" Score.
5. Aimee, aka the Bearded Lady. She runs a piercing parlor in Ptown and used to run one in Northampton as well. She strolled by with her bull terrier, Joy, and casually said "Hi Soph." There was no "welcome back!" or "how was your winter?" which I kind of liked. It's as if November-May don't exist in Ptown. "Hi Soph." I said "Hi Aimee." She corrected me: "Ah-mee." Guess that's new this year.
6. It's fun seeing who's back! I recognized some of the Pedi-Cab drivers, but they were definitely using their B-string pedalers (like this out of shape middle-aged woman huffing and puffing her passengers around, in stark contrast to the tan, buff Bulgarian men who usually do that job).
I was the only busker out at first. Later on Will came out, then this lady with a guitar and too much amplification, but at first it was just me. I set up across from the Squealing Pig, my fave spot. It wasn't until Boston and the Elf life that I realized my setup can be independent of a sturdy object. Last summer I leaned my open box against a bench, or fire hydrant, or something, and tossed the wheels aside. Now, I just lean it against the wheels, which are actually necessary to hold my student loan sign. This gives me more flexibility, and I can trip people less (or more, if I choose).
Here's what happened!
1. A woman biked by and just said, "You're tall!"
2. There was some kind of conference or something happened, with a lot of people walking around with nametags. I overheard a snippet of a conversation between two women: "Network and socialize. If someone says hi to you, you say hi back." It's really the only way to get anywhere in Ptown.
3. I had my first attentive child, who requested the Itsy Bitsy Spider. An older guy (I think it was funny-hair-bike-guy, actually) suggested I play "Alouette" next. I was about to, when he pointed out that it's the same tune. Huh, I hadn't noticed that one. I told him about kids requesting multiple of "ABC," "Twinkle twinkle" and "Baa baa black sheep" despite them having the same tune. The kid asked for Baa Baa Black Sheep to prove my case.
4. "Dynamite" went over very well! Pop songs really do well in Ptown, and I simply must add more to my repertoire. People were singing and dancing along, and looking puzzled then celebrating when they figured out what song it was. Gaga too, but that's old news. (Old gnus)
5. Perhaps the best Ptown story yet: a man, who I later identified as gay and drunk, commented that he couldn't tell where the piano ended and my skirt began (I wore a black and white striped skirt). He asked for a song, and I asked if he wanted Johnny Cash. He said "I love her!" with an unmistakably gay inflection. Maybe Johnny Cash would get a kick out that. After I played, he made a comment about his own "ring of fire." Shoulda seen that coming. It was a great reminder of playing in Ptown! The Castro really doesn't compare.
6. A woman asked me for a tango. I asked if she new "El Dia Que Me Quiras," a tango I just discovered through the cover by the Baguette Quartette. She said she might know it if I played it. I told her I couldn't yet (I've been meaning to learn it!) I said the closest I had in my repertoire to a tango was "Hernando's Hideaway," which she accepted. What tangos can I learn easily, do you think, dear readers? (Plural's ambitious)
7. A man with purple pants asked me if I could play "Lady [of] Spain." I told him of course I could. He said that was surprising, given my age. "It used to be that all accordion players had to learn that song!" "And it is still that way," I told him, "because if you're seen with an accordion, people will ask for that song so many times that you finally give in and learn it." I need to practice, though; I took it out of the starting rotation due to the cliche and now it's rusty.
8. Some foreigners gave me a ten dollar bill and couldn't help but wonder if they hadn't mastered US dollar conversion yet. They didn't even smile or anything. I'll take it! Similarly, I've become a tip snob. My dad loves telling the story of how when we were in Italy in ought one and an accordion player came up to our table at a restaurant. My dad put 100 lire in his hat. A hundred! It seemed so generous! We were similarly slow on the conversion, evidenced by the fact that we had given this man the equivalent of a nickel. Offended, he returned it to the table. We laugh about that story, but ten years later I can now side with him! I'm used to dollar bills. Handfuls of coins are great. Single coins are not so great. I have to really force myself to say thank you in those cases, and just hope that it's a cool foreign currency or an outdated metro token from a cool city or something worthwhile.
9. Hooligans. I guess this goes in the "people I saw" section. I moved to the town hall to play later on, which is the local hangout for hooligans, mostly teenagers (but some not). My interactions with them are usually just stepping aside mid-song so they can pass me to get back to the statue, or dramatically coughing when they light up cigarettes to teach them a lesson. A year later, and these hooligans have matured a bit. Two teenage boys independently came up to me with compliments. The second said, "Keep it up. I mean it, okay?" in the encouraging voice I expect from middle-aged folks who wish they had done more with their twenties. It was a strange sentiment to get from a 15-year-old, but I loved it. He can already tell that I'm doing something worth doing, and he won't let me quit even if he has to drag me there himself. I look forward to getting to know these kids more and keeping them off drugs and into music lessons and stuff.
10. And now....possibly the best comment I've ever gotten, from a primly dressed middle-aged-woman: "I feel obligated to chip in!"...[wait for it]..."Because I COLLECT student loans!" Hell yes. You'll be getting that dollar bill back before too long, lady. Good to know you're on my side!
Anyway, it was so so great to be back on my home turf! If Friday was that great, I can't even imagine how great it's going to be once folks are actually in town.
But I should mention, Cady, the statue lady, has retired from statuehood. I was sad to hear this news because she really was my inspiration and mentor, despite not knowing it, both last summer and as I followed her travels and planned my own during the winter. It will be nice to be able to use her spot sometimes, but Provincetown will really miss her.
Till next time! Friday again, most likely!
-S^3
We went first to the Police station to get our new permit. I remembered it taking longer last year, but I just had to show them my driver's license. We found a parking space way down the East End on Bradford St. and spent a long time parallel parking.
We walked down Commercial St. grinning (well I did, at least), and heard someone yell, "Back from San Francisco?" It was Dana, referenced in a SF post, a guy who a busker in the Castro sent out to scout a spot. This scenario annoyed me, and we got in each other's hair. I had forgotten that we made the Cape connection later in the winter (he lives in Truro), and he happened to be out and about when I was. It was nice to see a familiar face!
Speaking of familiar faces, I'll talk about that first. I obviously saw a bunch of people I knew. Not May or Butch, who you don't know about since I didn't blog last summer, but some other folks:
1. Topher, my accordion student and friend. He biked by on his shiny gold and purple bike and recorded my playing my newest Amelie song on his iphone for Francois, his Parisian bf. It was so lovely to see him. We'll resume lessons soon, and also work together to learn French. And bike and swim and be best friends and have adventures under the name "Soph and Toph."
2. Kyle. Kyle runs a variety show on Thursday nights at a local bar. I wasn't a regular due to my past transportational issues, but I performed once and it seemed like a really cool scene. He was wearing a royal blue button down shirt with red suspenders and driving a cab. He said that this year he'll be organizing a circus with themed acts. Hope to hear from him soon!
3. Will. Will is the sweet now-15-year-old boy who took up busking last summer. I saw him his first time, and we started talking. He plays guitar and sings and plays keyboard sometimes, too. We rode the same bus sometimes. I took him under my wing, and he gave me a beautiful little toy accordion last summer which I displayed in my case. He was out playing a little but mostly gallivanting, with local teens, and he gave me a nice big hug.
4. The guy on the bike with the funny hair. I know this doesn't narrow it down very much in Ptown, but there's this one guy I would see all the time. He never acknowledged me last year, but on Friday he biked by and yelled "Hi Soph!" Score.
5. Aimee, aka the Bearded Lady. She runs a piercing parlor in Ptown and used to run one in Northampton as well. She strolled by with her bull terrier, Joy, and casually said "Hi Soph." There was no "welcome back!" or "how was your winter?" which I kind of liked. It's as if November-May don't exist in Ptown. "Hi Soph." I said "Hi Aimee." She corrected me: "Ah-mee." Guess that's new this year.
6. It's fun seeing who's back! I recognized some of the Pedi-Cab drivers, but they were definitely using their B-string pedalers (like this out of shape middle-aged woman huffing and puffing her passengers around, in stark contrast to the tan, buff Bulgarian men who usually do that job).
I was the only busker out at first. Later on Will came out, then this lady with a guitar and too much amplification, but at first it was just me. I set up across from the Squealing Pig, my fave spot. It wasn't until Boston and the Elf life that I realized my setup can be independent of a sturdy object. Last summer I leaned my open box against a bench, or fire hydrant, or something, and tossed the wheels aside. Now, I just lean it against the wheels, which are actually necessary to hold my student loan sign. This gives me more flexibility, and I can trip people less (or more, if I choose).
Here's what happened!
1. A woman biked by and just said, "You're tall!"
2. There was some kind of conference or something happened, with a lot of people walking around with nametags. I overheard a snippet of a conversation between two women: "Network and socialize. If someone says hi to you, you say hi back." It's really the only way to get anywhere in Ptown.
3. I had my first attentive child, who requested the Itsy Bitsy Spider. An older guy (I think it was funny-hair-bike-guy, actually) suggested I play "Alouette" next. I was about to, when he pointed out that it's the same tune. Huh, I hadn't noticed that one. I told him about kids requesting multiple of "ABC," "Twinkle twinkle" and "Baa baa black sheep" despite them having the same tune. The kid asked for Baa Baa Black Sheep to prove my case.
4. "Dynamite" went over very well! Pop songs really do well in Ptown, and I simply must add more to my repertoire. People were singing and dancing along, and looking puzzled then celebrating when they figured out what song it was. Gaga too, but that's old news. (Old gnus)
5. Perhaps the best Ptown story yet: a man, who I later identified as gay and drunk, commented that he couldn't tell where the piano ended and my skirt began (I wore a black and white striped skirt). He asked for a song, and I asked if he wanted Johnny Cash. He said "I love her!" with an unmistakably gay inflection. Maybe Johnny Cash would get a kick out that. After I played, he made a comment about his own "ring of fire." Shoulda seen that coming. It was a great reminder of playing in Ptown! The Castro really doesn't compare.
6. A woman asked me for a tango. I asked if she new "El Dia Que Me Quiras," a tango I just discovered through the cover by the Baguette Quartette. She said she might know it if I played it. I told her I couldn't yet (I've been meaning to learn it!) I said the closest I had in my repertoire to a tango was "Hernando's Hideaway," which she accepted. What tangos can I learn easily, do you think, dear readers? (Plural's ambitious)
7. A man with purple pants asked me if I could play "Lady [of] Spain." I told him of course I could. He said that was surprising, given my age. "It used to be that all accordion players had to learn that song!" "And it is still that way," I told him, "because if you're seen with an accordion, people will ask for that song so many times that you finally give in and learn it." I need to practice, though; I took it out of the starting rotation due to the cliche and now it's rusty.
8. Some foreigners gave me a ten dollar bill and couldn't help but wonder if they hadn't mastered US dollar conversion yet. They didn't even smile or anything. I'll take it! Similarly, I've become a tip snob. My dad loves telling the story of how when we were in Italy in ought one and an accordion player came up to our table at a restaurant. My dad put 100 lire in his hat. A hundred! It seemed so generous! We were similarly slow on the conversion, evidenced by the fact that we had given this man the equivalent of a nickel. Offended, he returned it to the table. We laugh about that story, but ten years later I can now side with him! I'm used to dollar bills. Handfuls of coins are great. Single coins are not so great. I have to really force myself to say thank you in those cases, and just hope that it's a cool foreign currency or an outdated metro token from a cool city or something worthwhile.
9. Hooligans. I guess this goes in the "people I saw" section. I moved to the town hall to play later on, which is the local hangout for hooligans, mostly teenagers (but some not). My interactions with them are usually just stepping aside mid-song so they can pass me to get back to the statue, or dramatically coughing when they light up cigarettes to teach them a lesson. A year later, and these hooligans have matured a bit. Two teenage boys independently came up to me with compliments. The second said, "Keep it up. I mean it, okay?" in the encouraging voice I expect from middle-aged folks who wish they had done more with their twenties. It was a strange sentiment to get from a 15-year-old, but I loved it. He can already tell that I'm doing something worth doing, and he won't let me quit even if he has to drag me there himself. I look forward to getting to know these kids more and keeping them off drugs and into music lessons and stuff.
10. And now....possibly the best comment I've ever gotten, from a primly dressed middle-aged-woman: "I feel obligated to chip in!"...[wait for it]..."Because I COLLECT student loans!" Hell yes. You'll be getting that dollar bill back before too long, lady. Good to know you're on my side!
Anyway, it was so so great to be back on my home turf! If Friday was that great, I can't even imagine how great it's going to be once folks are actually in town.
But I should mention, Cady, the statue lady, has retired from statuehood. I was sad to hear this news because she really was my inspiration and mentor, despite not knowing it, both last summer and as I followed her travels and planned my own during the winter. It will be nice to be able to use her spot sometimes, but Provincetown will really miss her.
Till next time! Friday again, most likely!
-S^3
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