And Jesus Was His Name-O

Before we get started, a note on the title of today's post.  In my university choir, we sang a gospel tune year after year called "Praise His Holy Name."  We're not sure if the directors knew we had done it numerous times (we had a high director turn-over rate in my time there), but it kept coming up!  This was an ironic recurring piece for a 99% white choir in a mostly atheist and Jewish institution, but we went with it.  At one point, the basses sing, "Holy Jesus, praise his name.  Oh, Hallelujah, praise his holy name."  During one dress rehearsal, our favorite bass Paul raised his hand and suggested we separate the sentences of the aforementioned line, because it sounded like they were singing, "Holy Jesus, praise his name-o."  We honored Paul's request by singing "J-E-S-U-S" to the tune of "B-I-N-G-O" for years to come.  During today's excitement that you will soon read all about, I caught myself singing this and fondly remembered that day. 

Today was a good day.  I've been getting discouraged recently, a fact I didn't really hide in my last post, so I was glad to be enjoying myself today.  My mother and I were discussing strategies to get me out there.  One was to not make a big production out of every day.  My norm (sorry, I hate that word) for busking here is my marathon Saturdays where I put on makeup and wear my piano dress and pack a lunch and stay out all day.  Naturally, this is a lot, and makes me think of excuses not to do it more days!  I decided to trick myself into busking sometimes.  Go out, in normal clothes, but bring my accordion, and just play a little.  One hour.  One hour four days a week will make me a lot more money than zero hours zero days a week.  Busking today wasn't spontaneous, but the terms were.  I have a houseguest now, Philip from Switzerland from the last post, and we were going to spend today doing Royal Mile tourist things then busk in the afternoon in New Town.  So I brought my gear and wore my dress.  But then the sun was out and the Royal Mile looked so nice that I sent Philip to see the castle on his own and set up right then.

There were some new folks out.  There are no bagpipers on weekdays, and Charlie Chaplin and Dieter were off.  There was a kid playing guitar right outside the Cathedral.  I felt bad, since there was a wedding happening so the whole crowd was in the wedding party and not paying attention to him.  Later, when I left, he was still there.  I had told him that my spot was open, but he said he was doing fine there!  Hope it picked up!  Outside the arch place there was a violin player dressed as Jack Sparrow.  He walked by me a few times, seems like a nice person.  Then....at the side of the cathedral was another accordion player.  I had actually seen him on Saturday, and back he was again.  But that's not all....he was playing Bad Romance!  SO not okay.  If my act was still just accordion I would feel more threatened, but as it my act is more the pretty box and signs and piano dress and Flaca and now the extra instruments, so the importance of my actual accordion playing has decreased.  Still a threat though.  Luckily he walked by me as well so he knows I'm here.  And watching him.

Tom was out, between shows.  Surely I've mentioned him; a great guy who does circle acts.  Met him my first day, and I always feel like he has my back.  Great person to know.  Sure enough, he told me the Police box was free, and suggested I play there.  I never had!  It's actually right across the street from my usual Saturday afternoon corner, at Cockburn and High.  So I went down there.  I chose to face the castle, so I looked up the sidewalk facing the people coming down.  I could also look to my right and see people as they came up the RM.  I really like this spot!  When I was setting up, the Sandeman's New Edinburgh tour was gathering people, so I had a nice crowd because of that for the first twenty minutes or so.  Three different employees tipped me, in addition to their crowd.  Awesome.

There was one main event today, as you got from the title.  However, there is a lot to say and there has already been a lot of block text in this post, so I will do the little things first to hopefully regain your attention before telling the main story.

Tuesday, 12 June, 2012
1.  A well-dressed woman with a cross around her neck tipped me, and stopped to talk about school.  It turns out she's from Atlanta!  The thing is though...I don't think she was biologically a woman.  I do apologize if I'm wrong, but I felt a strong sense of masculinity!

2.  Another American, a man, stopped to talk about the thing I haven't told you yet.  He said he's from Boston!  I yelled "ME TOO!" and instinctively put my hand up for a high five regardless of this man's age and formality.  He was a little taken aback, but obliged.  He told me about a person like the person I'm going to tell you about who does that thing in Downtown Crossing, and doesn't even need a microphone.  Wonder if I've seen him!

3. I saw Jack Sparrow walk by again, and quickly launched into the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song.  He smiled normally; not sure if he recognized it.  Would have been pretty epic.

4. Some folks asked me about meeting for the tour, and said they're from Brazil.  I played the opening bars to "Tico Tico" and the younger man urged his [parents] to "Samba!  Samba!"  But they didn't.

5. Todd and Scott came by, which is nice.  Todd is another circle busker, and Scott I hadn't met before.  He's really young, and apparently had just, with Todd's assistance, made his hair a bit crazy.  Tom came back over then with black all over his face from fire juggling, and tried to wipe some on Scott's hairdo.  Oh, busker hazing!

Generally speaking, things were good.  NO wedding parties, few photo-non-tippers, lots of smiles and attention.  Good flow of tips, although the final count is lower than I'd like.  Blame the guy you don't yet know about.  I like that spot, and I'm going to try to get it again soon.

Now, TODAY'S MAIN EVENT:

Very soon after I set up, I heard a loud voice coming from the other side of the police box.  I peeked around, and saw exactly what I feared: a preacher.  A man wearing red trousers had set up a speaker and was talking into his matching red microphone about Jesus.  A boy who I took to be his son looked on.  The problem was that it was LOUD, he was hogging the airspace.  I smiled and waved, assuming he hadn't noticed me and would politely move on.  But he kept talking.  So I yelled, "Excuse me, sir, you must be 50 metres away!  Would you mind moving down, please?"  Nothing.  Argh.  I had seen other buskers deal with similar folks, and I knew that they have no leg to stand on.  You can't use amplification on the street without a permit, and when you have one you must follow certain guidelines.  But what was I going to do?  I played on, as loud as I could, hoping a police officer would walk by.  Of course, none did.  Every few songs I would lean over so he could see me, and start shouting anew.  I was quite polite, just repeating the rules about being 50 meters apart, and asking nicely to please respect the laws of the city.  But he ignored me every time.  I felt so sad for the little boy; he looked at me when I spoke if the father didn't and looked so innocent!  I'm sure he would rather have just moved down a little.  I tried to think of anti-Christ songs to play, but nothing came to mind.  I really need to learn "Devil Went Down to Georgia" for such occasions. 

After a while, I saw Tom jogging down the street.  I asked, "Have you come to my rescue?" and he affirmed.  What a hero!  I love having experienced buskers to help me in these situations!  I don't know how he knew this was going on from his end of the street; maybe an anonymous third party tipped him off.  He offered to watch my stuff while I went to the police to file a complaint.  That's all it would take, he said, to get the man shut down.  I stopped mid-song to run up the street to visit the police storefront that I had never been entirely sure was real.  Of course, there was a sign that said, "Closed for lunch, 1:00-2:00."  It was 1:20.  Damn.  I went back to my spot, and saw Tom playing the two maracas that now live in my left shoe.  It was a funny sight with all my stuff out.  Wonder if he got any tips!  I told him it was closed, and he said my options were to move, live with it, go back at two, or go ahead and call the police.

My inclination was to continue to live with it, but after a few minutes I really couldn't take it anymore.  Tom had said he has called the police in similar situations many times, so I decided to take the plunge and get some justice.  So I called 999.  Of course, I couldn't hear anything over his racket, so luckily the dispatcher didn't just go ahead and send an ambulance when I was unresponsive to her.  Finally we figured out why I was calling, and I explained the situation.  I was starkly aware of my whiny American accent, and just confirmed this when she asked to describe the man's appearance.  I quickly tried to think of which is the current PC term of a person of color, and I made the quick decision to say "African-American."  Oh, shit!  "I mean...African-..."  Scottish?  British?  "He's Black."  When she asked to describe his clothing I saved myself from further embarrassment by remembering to say red "trousers" at the last second rather than red "pants."  (Pants means underwear, you yankees).  I had to guess the child's age and confirm my location.

A little while later my attention was drawn to the silence behind me before I saw the police van.  One officer was talking to the man, and the other was looking for someone, probably me.  I made myself known, and the officer came to talk to me.  I was starting to regret having made this non-emergency phone call and interrupted everyone's lunch, especially since I want to keep a low profile after having a little trouble getting back in the country after my trip.  I think the officer thought I wanted the man arrested!  I told him I just wanted him to move fifty meters down, but the officer knew nothing about the 50 metre rule.  Come on!  It's on the official city website!  He asked if I had a special license for that area.  Well, no.  But the rules are very clear!  As it is, this guy doesn't count as a musician, believe it or not, and nobody can ask him to move since it's a religious thing.  That would mean infringing on his freedom of speech.  Jesus Christ!  It's a big city, go somewhere else!!  Amplification is, however, illegal, so the compromise was that he would continue unamplified, and he said he would be moving on in about five minutes anyway.  Fine.

The officers left, and the man continued, quietly.  Great.  But it was getting louder.  He was using the microphone.  Clearly, he had just disregarded all of that and had turned the sound back up.  This is when everyone in the vicinity pow-wowed.  Yes, this was the silver lining: awesome sense of community between those afflicted by this interruption.  There were four of us: me, a man named Alessio who was selling stuff, and the two people in scary robes leading the Ghost Tours of the city.  Both of these other parties, particularly the tours, were noticing a significant drop in business since he came out.  The tour was close enough that it looked like they could be together, and you had to walk right in front of the man to get to the vendor's setup.  The ghost guy informed me that the poor son had been the one inching up the volume dial--don't bring your kid into this!!  Since it was after 2:00 he went up to tell the police again that he was violating their terms, and they said they'd come back.  They didn't anytime soon, and the pair had left by the time I packed up.

This disturbance was interesting in the grand scheme of my busking.  It was a new situation I had to deal with, but showed me how other workers and also crowds respond.  I did have my tippers comment on him as well, mentioning my "competition" and such.  It felt good to yell, something I hadn't done in a while, and allowed me to see how loud I can play.  Hopefully this guy is just passing through town!

More to say, but it's time for Uke Boogie!  Woo hoo!