Well, we couldn't have three great days in a row. It was another nice day, and eight days of rain are forecasted, so I headed out for the third day. I don't usually do three days! It was a good day for hiding my identity, since people guessed I was Irish, Polish, Dutch, and Russian, not a bad day since it was boring, a little stressful and not super lucrative.
Didn't get off to a good start. I planned to go to Rose St. and stay for a couple hours during the "lunch rush," arriving at 12:30. There was no competition, no other buskers nor homeless people. I didn't want to use the same spot as last time because I don't want to get on the realtor/banker/whatevers' bad side. I ran into my new busker friend William who was also about to set up. He said that lunch time is bad there, since the shoppers just want to shop and everyone else is suits taking lunch breaks. Hmmm. I set up anyway, a little farther down, across from a bank. William was right; the traffic flow was slow and the wrong types. No tourists, not even good ones. Additionally, a woman working in the bank kept looking out at me. I decided to not use the kazoo so she'd tolerate me longer.
Regardless, she came out after a bit and very nicely asked me to move down. Super nice, said my music is quite lovely. It was nice to have an excuse to pack up entirely and try the Royal Mile, better during lunchtime. I sat in the Princes St. Gardens and ate my bag lunch, then went to the Royal Mile. New folks. A bluebrass band with double bass, banjo, and mandolin with a sign saying they need money for car repairs. Okay, clever, people will buy that. A ukulele player with a nice outfit: brown trousers, red and white checked button-down shirt, red shoes, red ukulele, red suspenders ("braces" here), red bowtie. Finally, someone else who knows that if you look good it doesn't matter what you sound like! Tom had the circle pitch. I went down to check out the Police box and heard a piper in the general vicinity. Too loud. I headed back up the hill to figure things out. But then...I no longer heard the piper! Turned around and saw a cop talking to him. Awesome. I bolted back down the hill, but since it was probably a noise complaint I asked this other lady who looked like a cop if that was true. It takes me a while to set up these days, so if I was going to immediately get a noise complaint too it wouldn't be worth it.
This conversation was so annoying, I had asked a simple question, but instead of answering it she lectured me on the relationship between the buskers and the city. "Have you seen the guidelines?" "Yes, ma'am." "Okay well how it works is that if there's a reasonable noise complaint the busker has to move on." "Oh yes, I know, I'm quite an experienced--" "Additionally..." She went on to list all the bylaws. Argh! Turns out she wasn't a police officer, but rather a member of the "public safety committee." The police officer talking to the piper came over, and she told him "This young lady would like to hear about the busking guidelines." No!!!! No she wouldn't!!!!! Abort!!!!! Got the same lecture from him. It turns out the public safety lady was conducting a survey about public safety and would be until 2:00. She didn't want buskers around there during it. There's nowhere else on the block she can do the surveys? Come on. This was 1:30, by the way.
I walked back up the hill to see if anyone was budging, but they were not. Decided to just puppy guard the spot until 2:00. Boooooring. And so I did. Unfortunately it seemed that the Police Box was a favorite place for peeing or barfing or something, it was quite gross. So I sat on my box and just waited. Another piper came over and was talking to the women on the other side of the box. I worried that he was also waiting and wouldn't see me. Other buskers came by with a dolly full of gear and made as if they were waiting too. It wasn't clear that I'm a busker if I'm sitting on my box, and if you're new to town. So I set up then waited. That was good, gave a nice clear message that it was MY spot. Going to say this now: I'm so glad I came when I did. One potential plan for this year had me coming in late June, and I would have annoyed the shit out of everyone. So many people are showing up now and hogging the best pitches, which is so disrespectful to those of us who have been here longer and who do this full time. If I'm annoyed after five months I can't imagine how the real local buskers feel.
2:00 rolled along and I was ready to go. Luckily my fears about someone else not seeing me and setting up across the street or something did not come true. Today's session really dragged on. I only lasted an hour and a half, and even that felt like an eternity. I was going to push hard to get at least two hours, but luckily it started raining. I was playing quite poorly and I attribute that to the fact that I had busked the previous two days. The percussion is really tiring, and my feet were just slow and lazy today! In general I was tired and out of it and making a lot of mistakes. Luckily there's a 100% chance of rain tomorrow so I can take a day off. Anyway....
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
1. The new photography sign. We'll get right to it. A lot of people were blatantly ignoring it. Like looking over everything, obviously reading it, and violating anyway. Come on! One man was taking pictures and hadn't seen the sign. I couldn't tell if he was going to, so for a second I considered smiling and, in perfect rhythm, hitting my foot percussively against the front of the box where the sign is. Keeping it silly and stuff, but also aggressive. But I didn't, because I don't like to be aggressive about soliciting tips. I have never felt comfortable with that and I never will, which means accepting making fewer tips than my more shameless colleagues. I do think the sign helps with some people though.
2. A little girl in a striped rainbow jumper and pigtails scootered up and watched for a minute. She asked me, "Why do you have two shaker thingies?" There was a lot she could have asked about, good choice! I told her it was to be extra loud. She accepted that explanation.
3. A little boy stopped to watch, and subconsciously (?) started tapping/swinging his foot. Gotcha!
4. This is something I noticed yesterday, but forgot to include: There are similarities between the Chariots of Fire theme and Laura's Theme from Twin Peaks. Specifically, after a slow and dramatic introduction they both excitingly and loudly hit a thrice-inverted F major chord (is that something I can say?). In Chariots of Fire, which I more recently learned, you hold that for a while. In Laura's theme, you only hold it for two beats, I think. But that's the thing, after working hard of C of F, I've forgotten Laura's theme! Oh no!
5. Played Danny Boy, which I never really solidified. I was doing pretty well, but then I totally fudged the climactic high note. I had an audience. Must practice.
6. A man walked by with a blond, blue-eyed little boy holding each hand. He kept walking, but the two boys both turned their heads over their right shoulders to watch me. Identical smiles and blue gazes, just about an 8-inch height difference. I liked that.
7. After The Godfather theme, a man who was listening shouted "Bellisima!" Love when people recognize that one! And when I later revealed that I'm from Boston, he mentioned "How do you like them apples?" I was a little confused, having forgotten that that phrase originated in Boston, I guess. Cool! He also asked if I play "Take On Me," which is good because I'm planning on learning it ASAP. Will have to speed it up!
8. There's a fellow who's getting ready to make a feature film about gypsies, and invited me to act in it. Unfortunately I won't be here long enough. But I might still contribute some music from afar!
9. Lastly, a group of older men walked by (actually while I was just beginning to play the Godfather Theme). I was worried that they were Italian and they thought I played it when they showed up. They went into Starbucks then came out to talk. One asked, "Tango?" I began to play "El Dia Que Me Quieras," a beautiful Tango that I don't actually know how to play. They started singing, and it would have been so amazing if I could have played along. But I lost it. They were speaking Spanish to each other, and so, feeling quite confident in the answer, I asked where they're from. Argentina, indeed. Since I could not impress them with my Tango ability, I figured I could at least impress them with my Spanish. Told them that la unica canción de america del Sur que conozco es de Brazil. "¿Cuál?" me preguntaron. "¡Tico Tico!" "¡Tico Tico No Fubar!" exclamaron. So I played it and they danced. Good enough. But the lesson of the day is MLT: Must Learn Tango. Before I learn "Take Me On." Awesome.
That's all! Must get arranging! Seeing "Jaws" in theaters tonight! Woo-hoo!
P.S. Two exciting things:
1. My first youtube video has reached 20,000 views! Played it today to celebrate, but no one ever knows it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqyiipPHruQ
2. We forgot to mention this, but June 17th was the two-year anniversary of starting to busk! We're pros now!
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