Parlez-moi d'Rugby

Last Saturday was great. But I was irrationally busy the past week and didn't blog, so I'm sure I've forgotten a lot! Flaca was implemented last weekend. I spent the preceding week painting her sign and box and making her an outfit, and she was ready to go on Saturday morning. I did both the Farmer's Market and the Royal Mile, and for the first time ever the Royal Mile was more interesting! Read on.

Saturday, 25 February 2012, Part I:
I was worried that I wouldn't get my Farmer's Market spot again, but I did! There were slightly different vendors around, and some of the same stands had different people working.

1. I put Flaca on my right, so I could see her. Most people ignored her! I think they didn't get it! She made a couple of tips, and one person went right for her box, then changed her mind and put it in my box instead.

2. Some people took babysitting flyers! They're outdated and made for Wellfleet, advertising sand toys and such, but it's hopeful! One of the families who took one had a newborn, and said it would be for down the road.

3. An older woman stopped, glanced at my box, saw my business cards with my name, and asked, "What do you craft?"

4. Everyone loves "Don't Stop Me Now" over here! I'm always surprised at how not recognized it is at home, so I'm finally getting that satisfaction. Folks sing along, and one guy bore that expression like he was trying to place what song it was.

5. Tried out "Pirates of the Caribbean" even though it's not ready. One guy recognized it and commented!

6. Finally I got an adult to play Flaca! Someone had to! Her shoes could be heard on the concrete ground, which was good.

7. Met my first kid named Sophie over here!

8. Someone made a loans comment. Not sure what it was anymore!

It started raining, so I had to pack up. I'm on a strict diet to try to get my digestive abilities back, so I planned ahead and packed a digestible lunch of rice cakes and avocado. Of course, it was cold and rainy, and George offered me haggis again. I immediately caved. Ah, well.

9. On my way out I talked to a porridge vendors for Stoats Oats. He's a younger man, with red hair and a mustache. Somehow he convinced me to buy a porridge bar which was good, but totally not part of my diet. He tipped me off about the Stockbridge Farmer's Market on Sundays! 10-5. Excellent.

Went to the Elephant House, had a hot chocolate, talked to some nice Canadians and Japanese girls while I waited for the rain to stop. Finally it did, and I headed to the Royal Mile.

Saturday, 25 Feb 2012 Part II:

Everyone was out! As I walked down the Royal Mile from George IVth, I passed a bagpiper, Charlie Chaplin, a silver knight, the William Wallace caveman, and a trumpet player. I finally set up near the Bella Italia restaurant, across the street from where various tours meet up.

1. A phantom/ghost guy was across the street handing out flyers for the latenight ghost tours. I totally caught him dancing a little to my songs!!

2. A man wearing a reflective highway department (or whatever) vest was walking around with a grabbing tool, much like the "thing finder" of my youth. I assumed he was picking up trash or something, for work. A minute later, he was right next to me, dumping coins in my box. Were these coins he had rescued from the cracks in the cobblestones with the purpose of donating them, or just a coincidence? We'll never know!

3. Time for the thing in my notes called "Bagpipe Incident." This is one of my favorite things that's happened, since it's so ridiculous. Obviously competition was right this day, with buskers in every pitch. At one point I looked up and saw the bagpiper that had been playing stop at the corner across the street, in front of a church. I guess another bagpiper kicked him out. Without even looking around, he set up his stuff and started playing, directly across the street and probably ten feet down from me, obviously in my area. Hello! I couldn't leave me stuff to go talk to him, and he wasn't looking around. Finally I went as far to my left as I dared, and after a minute of waving I caught his eye. He gave an apologetic wave and went on his way. Turns out it wasn't a moment of assholery, but rather just absentmindedness. Really strange though, considering the territory! Unfortunately the whole thing gave me a huge adrenaline rush, so the next few songs were double-speed (something that's been happening quite a bit, actually).

4. The French were in town! France was playing Scotland at rugby the following day, and supporters were out by the dozens. Of course, the French love accordion! They obviously recognized the French songs, stopped to listen, and tipped. I had a lot of conversations of "Parlez-vous français?" "Je ne parle pas français." I really need to parle français!! There was a big group of young folks, as well as an older man who stood out. The older man was really watching my left hand, and had a quick conversation to his wife. I assumed he must play a bigger accordion and was trying to figure out how I was using a mere 12 bass keys.

5. I've seen so many hen parties, but this marked my first stag party! These men all had matching t-shirts, saying "Name Name's Stag Party 2012" with a picture of the lucky man. There isn't really an appropriate song for them. I considered trying "Here Comes the Bride" but wasn't sure how they'd react.

6. Lots of people taking pictures without tipping. I thought about a day, three years ago, when I first set foot in Scotland for a whirlwind 24 hours. I was in Glasgow, where I saw a bagpiper. I took out my camera, and he turned around. I was annoyed, of course. I was not a busker then. Now, I feel terrible for that! It is one idea I could implement to get tips, see a camera and turn around. Or just frown for their picture. I think my idol, Cady Vishniac, human statue, had someone on one of her signs about asking photographers to tip. I have room for one more sign, so maybe I'll think of something clever. It's so rude! The city doesn't pay us to stand there and look awesome!

7. A guy was videochatting with someone on his iphone. He stopped and held up the phone, so I played for his friend far away! Didn't tip, but I didn't mind since that was the first time that had happened.

8. An older, disheveled looking man stopped to talk. He introduced himself as Peter, and says that he plays harmonica really well, like Bob Dylan. I'm sure I'll see him out and about.

9. Finally and kid stopped, with his dad! These two were so cute. They wore matching leather jackets, and the dad crouched down to be at the same level as the kid while they watched. I handed over Flaca, and they worked her together. Love that parents here aren't afraid to let their sons play with dolls! At one point, the little boy winked. I'm going to assume that wasn't an accident! When they left, I said "Thank you." The boy said, in this slow drawling voice, "That's okay." <3

10. Hugo from Sydney stopped by for a couple tunes. He had his saxophone, which he sometimes busks with. He's here with his dad, I think, for like a month. This was the good kind of collaboration, quick and non-competitive! I'm usually wary of collaborating because the act is out of my control, I worry about being upstaged by my guest, and they usually stick around longer than I'd like and I lose my own busking time. Hugo seemed to know these rules, and said right away that he'd just stay for one song. He had heard be playing "Let it Be," and proposed we do that. Excellent. Then Ob La Di. Tough because I know these songs by motor memory, and I wanted to omit the right hand to let him take the melody. I had trouble separating them though, and my left hand messed up a lot!

11. Back to the photo without tip issue: one thing I'll sometimes do is just follow the person down the street with my eyes, not smiling. Sometimes they get it. Sometimes their friends get it, and take care of business. I did this for one couple on this day, and sure enough the man came back. He dropped a £5 bill in, and said something but I played over him and missed it! I just caught the last word: talented. I felt really bad; he probably said they had no change, and I would have offered them change. Of maybe I shouldn't feel bad, maybe he said, "We'll give you all this because you're so talented!" But probably, "I really don't want to give you all this. I wanted to save it for someone who's talented." Either way, good to know the staring technique sometimes works.

12. An old lady stopped by and said she used to play a 125-bass. She was really worried about me being cold, and squeezed my hand! I love these old ladies, and they're my least interactive demographic here. Sometimes I can get a smile, but I think they're not quite modern enough over here to realize that I'm neither homeless nor a prostitute. Maybe that's an unfair generalization. Can't wait to run into one of my favorite choir old ladies!

13. A group of young French men stopped to listen, and one asked to play. I handed Lil' Red over, but indicated via sign language and loud, slow English that the strap was being held on by a safety pin. He assured me he could be careful, saying "I am prudent!" Almost a cognate, buddy!

14. I was playing the Godfather theme, and a guy stopped, looked sad, and said I was playing a sad song. I switched to the upbeat "Ça Gaze," and he smiled and asked if I took Euros. (Actually got lots of Euros that day! And some USD!)

15. People are finally commenting on my skirt! Additionally, I got a few similar comments, the one I wrote down being "I play the piano, can I play your skirt?"

16. I think it was this day when I had a perfect ending, but the blog's so out of date that I forget which day! I'll decide to end when one of these happens, depending on hos I'm feeling: a. when it becomes a certain time; b. when I've finished my set list; or c. when I make one more tip. I was tired and cold, so I decided to end with option C this day: I will pack up after my next tip. It was also nearing 6:00, and my songs were dwindling. It all happened at the same time: I was playing "I Believe (When I Fall in Love)," the song I like to end on, the cathedral bells struck six, and I heard a coin hit my box. Perfection! Time to go home.

17. As I hit the road, a man on a bicycle stopped to talk. His name is Dieter, and he's the silver knight statue. Very nice man! Sort of reminded me of Carlos Cooper. He's German, and he said "ja" at the end of every sentence! Glad he like to talk, but I was freezing and totally exhausted, and just wanted to go home! It's nice to have experienced buskers reaching out to the new kids, though. I'm sure I'll see him again.

The end!