Coffee and Love To Be Found

Oh, how I love the market!  Today was my third Sunday playing at the Stockbridge Market, having previously gone in February and June.  It is just such a lovely scene, with children, pregnant women, and puppies everywhere, the smell of food in the air, and smiles on everyone's faces.  Nobody is fighting for spots or airspace, there are no hen parties, and everyone gets along.  You're playing predominantly for locals, not tourists.

I set up at the entrance near the tables.  I was in the company of an old-fashioned bicycle-operated ice cream stand, a French wine bar, and the "French Connection" crepe truck.  More on them.

It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm!  Down to just my dress!  However, the wind was brutal.  Huge gusts came through and rattled the tents, deposited sand in everyone's eyes, sent flyers flying (I lost a few business cards), and knocked over a tray of shortbread.  It meant I had to play as loudly as I could, and at times it carried my tunes in the wrong direction (the hot cheese vendor 50 feet away had no idea I was there) (as in a hot person who vends regular-temperature cheese).  It became clear right away that Flaca was never going to stay upright, so she took cover in the box.

I thought way back to my first day at the Saturday market, where it was equally windy.  "Blowin' in the Wind" was still in the rotation then, and a passerby had commented that it was an appropriate song for the weather.  I pulled it out of retirement just for today, but unfortunately no one commented on the juxtaposition.  Everyone was too busy chasing their hats!  All I could do to save my act during these gusts was close the accordion, hug it tight, put all my weight on my set list and notebook, and commend myself for choosing a country where the money is metal.  Had I been in the US, I would have lost all of my tips.

I played for about three hours, with the exception of two breaks where I ate my delicious hummus and veggie wrap and wandered around the market tasting samples.  Here are the highlights:

Sunday, 22 July 2012:
1. A man who read my sign tipped and said that he hoped it would "shorten my debt."  Pretty standard, but that was new wording that I liked.

2. I talked quite a bit to the Frenchman selling wine behind me.  It was a cool setup; he had these little barrels with spouts from which he would fill empty bottles.  This also meant that tasting was quite easy.  The Burgundy-native responded to my declaration that I would travel more in France after learning a bit of the language by saying that French people find American and British accents "cute."  Not nearly as cute as we find French accents!

3.  There's a fellow who I see on the Mile who, ever since my percussion act, taps his foot to indicate that I should still use it.  I looked up today and he was right in front of me.  "Ye're in my neck o' the woods today!" he declared.  He expressed his preference that I continue the percussion, and asked why I quit.  I do still keep the two shakers, so I stuck them in my shoe for old times' sake.

4.  "Cat jumper fro guy."  When I was walking over, but still in my neighborhood, I spotted a distinct looking person: a young Caucasian man with a huge afro and a jumper with white and grey cats on it.  That was all.  But I tend to stand out as well with my piano dress and painted box, so we both recognized each other when he showed up at the market.  "I guess this is the place to be!" he declared.  (I'm already way past my quota for the verb "to declare" in this post, oops.)  That was pretty cool.

5. A group of guys about my age all came in, and noticed my "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox" sign in the mind-in-the-gutter way that hasn't come up in the while.  They politely chorted, but made sure to point it out to the rest of their friends who arrived.  The good news is that one of them loudly sang along with "Take On Me."

6.  A couple came up and asked what song I had played before the one I had just finished.  That was...."I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)."  The man had recognized it.  Excellent, this is one of my favorite songs ever, and favorites to play, and no one ever comments on it. 

7.  While I ate my lunch I talked to a man from Liverpool.  I don't remember what we talked about, but it was quite nice!

8.  The road was to my left, and occasionally I would turn and look at the cars stopped at the light.  Quite often the people in the cars would smile and wave!  I love Stockbridge.

9.  During my break I made the rounds around the market, and checked in with Beth who is in charge.  She made sure I had everything I needed, and asked, "Do you want a crepe?"  However, with her accent I thought she was asking me something much more personal.  It's a valid question though; I had been there a few hours and there were no restrooms on the premise.  Luckily she responded to my silence with "...maybe a crepe with lemon and sugar?" and I got it.  She elaborated, saying that I ought to go to the crepe truck and tell the guy that Beth had sent me for a free crepe.

And so I did.  The young French guy working was super nice.  He complained that he wanted a cigarette break but it was very busy.  We discussed French music, and he gave me the name of two bands that he likes: Les Ogres de Barback and La Rue Ketanou.  I'll have to look them up for next time!  He wrote these down for me in lovely French script. 

10.  I also exchanged words with the seafood vendors who were right in front of me and therefore bore of the brunt of the listening.  I offered to move for my last run-through, but the man in charge said it wasn't necessary.  He recognized most of the songs!  But, he asked, where was my percussion? 

11a.  A jolly middle-aged man was milling about.  He commented on my skirt, and asked if anyone ever asks to play it.  Later he was caught dancing to "Ça Gaze" with two girls about my age.  We spoke on his way out, and I said I was from Boston.  He said that he was born in Boston, England!  Cool!  When we discussed school I mentioned Worcester, and he said he knows someone in Worcester, MA.  His best friend from high school, David, who is now Jenny, 's ex-wife, because [David] didn't want a wife after his sex change, lives in Worcester.  Or something.  "I'm going to give you a book," and he handed me a booklet.  "Let me talk to her now!" said an older woman, and off he went.

   b. The woman was so nice, and a total free spirit.  She had a fancy white hair accessory, and wore a flowy top and skirt, all whitish.  I had seen her talking to the wine vendor and other people; she seemed to know everyone.  When it was FINALLY her turn to talk to me, she thanked me for playing Parlez-moi d'Amour, which her mother used to sing to her.  I told her the story about my first date with my ex, that made me want to learn the song.  Her parting words were, "Accordion makes you cry.  It's an instrument of the people."  So true.  Hope to see her again.

   c. I looked at the booklet the man had given me, expecting it to be something religious and weird.  Quite on the contrary, it was a booklet this man had put together after visiting many coffee shops around the city.  Each spread features a photo of a local barista, listing his/her name, place of origin (people from allll over the world), and the shop, and a poem of some sort.  Some are from famous poets or song lyrics, but most are this man's originals.  Here's my favorite poem, about the book in general, opposite the photo of a young Polish woman working at Caffé Lucano, which I also happen to love:

                    "Bugger"

                    This work, once supposed to be tragic,
                    With something so poignant to say,
                    By some serendipitous magic
                    Appears to have gone well agley.

                    Twenty-five chaps and chapesses,
                    Who'd sweeten the bitterest heart:
                    Their welcoming cheerfulness messes
                    With this tale of a lonely old fart.

                    So, like Micean men, with their well-planned lays,
                    I know, as I wander around,
                    There will always be something to brighten my days,
                    While there's coffee and love to be found!

                    (Dai Lowe, July 2009)

Isn't that just so lovely?  It warmed the heart of this former and future barista.

12. Beth so kindly went around the market and collected donations from vendors.  She said, "They wanted to chip in a little so you'll come back!"  Oh, wild horses couldn't keep me from coming back!!  But, she said, the vendors did have one wee request: that I bring back the percussion and kazoo!  They had liked it!  Damn, that's a lot of votes to bring it back.  I haven't missed it, but maybe I could shake a foot or two on the occasional song.

13.  A couple entered the market, and the man immediately stopped short in front of my box.  He bent down, and left....a peach!  Not my first fruit tip, but my first peach.  Awesome.

14.  As I was packing up, a vendor ran over with a tip and said, "Thanks for making the last hour a lot less boring!"  That's a new one, I'll take it!

15.  Also as I was packing up, a little boy with tiger face paint came over and asked if I wanted ice cream.  He is the son of the ice cream vendor!  The stand is run by a woman in sort-of retro clothing that matches the stand, and her older son also has a great retro look about him.  The younger son wore totally modern clothes, with the tiger face paint.  An interesting looking lot!  I said yes, I would like ice cream, and he came back with a cone for me.  So sweet!  (Not that I was sending over vibes for that to happen all day or anything.)  And it only got mildly sandy when the wind came through.

16.  Lastly, a guy came up as I was about to leave the premises, and asked if I had had a hat out.  What?  Hadn't he seen?  "Well I had my box..."  He explained that he had been listening all day from his HOUSE on that street, and had come all the way down to give me a tip.  Isn't that so sweet?  I guess my sound carried after all!

As you can see, it was such a nice outing.  I have rarely felt so welcomed and supported in my busking.  I hope to put in several more Sundays here before I leave!

Might have to brave the Royal Mile again this week....ahhhhh!

Till next time.