I'm overdue for a post about this crazy Edinburgh plan! Obviously this blog is about busking, and everything I have to say about Edinburgh isn't busking, but it all goes along with the adventure.
"What made you decide to come to Edinburgh?" is obviously a question I've gotten a lot in the past week. So here's the answer! Coming to Edinburgh right away wasn't the plan. The plan was to go somewhere in the American South, so the USA part of my adventure would include the East Coast, West Coast, and South. I considered Chattanooga, Savannah, Charleston, and finally St. Augustine. I was going to have more busking adventures and write hard, and have a manuscript of my book ready in the Spring, maybe. Then I was going to stick around the US to go to fancy publisher meetings in New York and stuff. After I got super famous and went on Ellen, I was going to go to Europe to begin research for my book's sequel: Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox does Europe.
It was not time to go abroad yet, and this was a poorly thought-out plan. By coming here now, I'm missing out on precious American research, opportunities to easily get to Mexico to see Sasha, and likely my family reunion and college a cappella group's 20th reunion in May and my cousin's wedding in June. Also, the time to be in Edinburgh is during the festivals in August, and my six months of tourist visa expires at the end of July. I'm hoping it's as easy as leaving the EU and coming back, but we'll see. Then there's the whole problem of staying afloat this time of year, when the busking is seriously bad due to weather and lack of weekday tourism.
Anyway, what made me decide to come to Edinburgh?
Last summer I talked to a girl who had a friend who had spent a summer in Portugal working at a hostel in exchange for housing. I thought that was a good idea, so I thought about sending a letter to hostels all over Europe. That was part of it. Another part of it was waiting on a guy from Glasgow. He's a personal chef, and he's hired every summer by a family who has a house in Chatham. We talked a bunch, and I mentioned busking. I think he suggested busking in Edinburgh. Somehow I had the idea of busking in Edinburgh. I wanted to go the following summer, get there in May or so and get settled before the tourism rush. But, I have all this stuff in May and June, and going in late June was too late, I thought, to get settled before the tourism rush, and it felt weird leaving in early May and missing everything for so little extra time. Maybe it made more sense to go earlier in the year, so I miss my events by more?
I had a pretty solid plan to go to St. Augustine, Florida. I was in touch with my cousins who live there in addition to a co-worker from the Cape. I had been emailing with a tourism group that hires theatrical people to give tours of the old city in period clothing. I had an interview lined up. I had perused the busking laws, and I was looking at every Craig's List ad that was posted for housing.
Then I heard from my friend Rob, who's English but worked in Wellfleet last summer. We got to know each other there, and bonded over being travelers. He had decided to move to Edinburgh as well, so that was my cue to go. Better to go when I know one person than in a few years! My reasoning was that if things didn't work out down South, I'd have no money to go to Edinburgh. Thus, it's better to blow all my money in a place I've wanted to go for a while. What if I break my leg and go never?
Anyway, I'm here. I hate the idea of missing all the stuff in the Spring, and I'm even toying with the idea of flying home and flying back, but that's kind of expensive and crazy. Here's how it's going so far, after one week:
1. I've made a ton of Spanish friends. We're all at the hostel still, looking for jobs and housing and stuff. In the meantime, we've become friends, people from all over Spain and me. My Spanish is coming back! I've left the hostel thinking Spanish and accidentally speaking it to Scottish store owners and such a few times. Oops.
2. I'm looking for babysitting. So far I've found one family with two little ones that I'd watch a few mornings a week.
3. I've busked once, but it was pretty unmemorable. I made enough to cover my hostel cost for that night, but it was way less than the rate I'm used to. One little girl was into it and played with Flaca, but otherwise nobody stopped to talk or anything. I'll have to keep trying various areas.
4. I've been seeing a ton of apartments, and scored a great setup for February! The person who is signing the lease can't move into until March, so I'm subletting until then. These are people that I sort of fell in love with based on their ad a few weeks ago. They're super artistic and musical. Two of them are in a band together, and there's a flute, saxophone, trumpet, drum set, guitar, bass, ukelele, and, yep, accordion lying around the house! One is getting her Master's in Creative Writing for poetry, and one's a former film student who mans the projector in the living room pointed at a big blank wall. They're all English, and the three girls have been friends forever. We hit it off well when I met them, so I was super happy when I heard that this plan was going ahead. I move in on Wednesday!
5. I've looked for choirs to join so I can find old ladies to make sure I'm fed and introduce me to their eligible grandsons. There are four that I've been emailing with, and I'm trying to check them out this week. I went to the first last night, and loved it. I was in fact way younger than most people, and everyone was super nice. They're singing the Messiah which I know well but haven't formally sung. Best of all, they served tea and cookies at the break! I audition next Sunday. I'd certainly like to sing with them!
Obviously things are super up in the air, but I'm getting to know the city more every day. I reckon I'll stay at least through March, since I bought concert tickets for Pokey Lafarge in March and the Messiah concert is on April 1st. Depending on how things go I'll either go home then and figure out what to do for the summer or I'll seek other accommodations and stay for the summer!
Hopefully next time I busk I'll have more to report!
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
I Used to Think I Was Some Kind of Gypsy Boy
Last night was my first busking of 2012! Unfortunately, it was super slow. It was warmer than it has been (in the thirties), and you expect people to be out on Friday nights. People were scarce, however, and the Coyote Choir was set up right outside of Thornes so most people saw them first and were at their tipping quota by the time they saw me. Two accordions really is a lot for one town. It was still nice to be out, though, and to play my songs.
Friday, January 6th, 2012:
1. A teenager asked, "Where's the elf costume?" Do people think I wear it year-round?
2. A lady came and got my info to play at events. This would be "If I ever get married or have a party." Way to play for the hypothetical!
3. I got a lot of compliments on my piano "skirt!" (Quotes because it's a whole dress.) One guy said he was going to just give me change, but the skirt was worth the whole dollar.
4. Something not specific to last night that I've never mentioned: usually it's annoying when loud trucks or motorcycles go by and drown you out. However, sometimes the timing is perfect when you're not sure what chord goes next. The truck goes by and you can play with chords that only you can hear, and when the truck sound dies down the people hear just what you came up with during the vehicle's passing!
5. A lot of people commented on the fact that there were two accordions out. This is usually the case, so I was surprised that it was breaking news last night. People also read between the lines and asked if we got along okay. They really were extra loud last night.
6. A little girl walked by and said I played "beautiful music." Things like that really make my night.
7. My nights are also made when, like last night, middle-aged ladies see my loans sign and say "Me too, honey!"
8. I was struck with a conundrum last night that I haven't faced before. These two ladies came by, from the direction that meant they might not have seen the Coyote Choir yet. One of them held some singles, and dropped a couple in my box. I was dying to know whether or not the rest were going to the CC. I wanted to watch them cross the street, but also a hot guy was walking towards me! Which do I look at?? The timing was close, but I was able to keep an eye on both parties in the key seconds. The ladies did not tip the CC. Small victories!
9. I don't play the Lady Gaga medley much anymore, but I busted it out last night and these two young guys loved it! They actually stuck around for the whole thing.
10. I often don't like simply going home after I pack up, and try to scout people to grab a drink with after. When a guy lingers, that's often my best bet. I looked up at one point to see a guy lingering. I was playing "Werewolves of London" and he sang along!!! Then this other man requested "Ring of Fire" but didn't even stick around to hear it. My friend sang along with that too, but didn't recognize "I Want You Back." I thought it was a good sign that he had stayed this long, and I commented that I wished more people sang along. He responded "What else are people supposed to do while they wait for their girlfriends in the bank?" Touche.
11. Faces was still projecting the green dots I've mentioned, and this time there was no Salvation Army bell ringer right in front of them. I wondered that if I were to set up six feet to my left, right in front of the dots, if people would give me credit for them and tip better. Hmmm.
12. I was pretty frustrated that I had done so poorly money-wise, but the icing on the cake happened when I was packing up. A couple had used the ATM and needed to break their twenty. The man came and asked if I had two tens for a twenty. I said no. Then he asked if I had twenty ones. Come on, people, I'm not a currency kiosk. If they had asked for the singles first I might have thought they intended to tip me, but asking for tens is a different story. Argh.
13. When I was just about packed up, a pack of hooligans came over. I find teenagers hilarious and endearing, and this was a great bunch. They were on their way to play some underage beer pong and thought they'd stop and listen to some accordion. I couldn't satisfy their requests for Incubus or Zeppelin, but I did some Gaga. They suggested that they "take care of" the Coyote Choir for me. At one point a rubber rat fell out of one of their pockets. Having a crowd is always good for attracting other people, and sure enough some folks that didn't fit in with this rowdy bunch stopped to listen, after I had given up hope of more tips.
14. I'm super pumped to have Leonard Cohen's "So Long, Marianne" in my repertoire. That song was written for accordion. Not too hard, and sounds really great! Can't wait to have it recognized.
The end. I was going to play again today since it's so warm out, but I simply don't feel like it. Next stop: St. Augustine, Florida!
Friday, January 6th, 2012:
1. A teenager asked, "Where's the elf costume?" Do people think I wear it year-round?
2. A lady came and got my info to play at events. This would be "If I ever get married or have a party." Way to play for the hypothetical!
3. I got a lot of compliments on my piano "skirt!" (Quotes because it's a whole dress.) One guy said he was going to just give me change, but the skirt was worth the whole dollar.
4. Something not specific to last night that I've never mentioned: usually it's annoying when loud trucks or motorcycles go by and drown you out. However, sometimes the timing is perfect when you're not sure what chord goes next. The truck goes by and you can play with chords that only you can hear, and when the truck sound dies down the people hear just what you came up with during the vehicle's passing!
5. A lot of people commented on the fact that there were two accordions out. This is usually the case, so I was surprised that it was breaking news last night. People also read between the lines and asked if we got along okay. They really were extra loud last night.
6. A little girl walked by and said I played "beautiful music." Things like that really make my night.
7. My nights are also made when, like last night, middle-aged ladies see my loans sign and say "Me too, honey!"
8. I was struck with a conundrum last night that I haven't faced before. These two ladies came by, from the direction that meant they might not have seen the Coyote Choir yet. One of them held some singles, and dropped a couple in my box. I was dying to know whether or not the rest were going to the CC. I wanted to watch them cross the street, but also a hot guy was walking towards me! Which do I look at?? The timing was close, but I was able to keep an eye on both parties in the key seconds. The ladies did not tip the CC. Small victories!
9. I don't play the Lady Gaga medley much anymore, but I busted it out last night and these two young guys loved it! They actually stuck around for the whole thing.
10. I often don't like simply going home after I pack up, and try to scout people to grab a drink with after. When a guy lingers, that's often my best bet. I looked up at one point to see a guy lingering. I was playing "Werewolves of London" and he sang along!!! Then this other man requested "Ring of Fire" but didn't even stick around to hear it. My friend sang along with that too, but didn't recognize "I Want You Back." I thought it was a good sign that he had stayed this long, and I commented that I wished more people sang along. He responded "What else are people supposed to do while they wait for their girlfriends in the bank?" Touche.
11. Faces was still projecting the green dots I've mentioned, and this time there was no Salvation Army bell ringer right in front of them. I wondered that if I were to set up six feet to my left, right in front of the dots, if people would give me credit for them and tip better. Hmmm.
12. I was pretty frustrated that I had done so poorly money-wise, but the icing on the cake happened when I was packing up. A couple had used the ATM and needed to break their twenty. The man came and asked if I had two tens for a twenty. I said no. Then he asked if I had twenty ones. Come on, people, I'm not a currency kiosk. If they had asked for the singles first I might have thought they intended to tip me, but asking for tens is a different story. Argh.
13. When I was just about packed up, a pack of hooligans came over. I find teenagers hilarious and endearing, and this was a great bunch. They were on their way to play some underage beer pong and thought they'd stop and listen to some accordion. I couldn't satisfy their requests for Incubus or Zeppelin, but I did some Gaga. They suggested that they "take care of" the Coyote Choir for me. At one point a rubber rat fell out of one of their pockets. Having a crowd is always good for attracting other people, and sure enough some folks that didn't fit in with this rowdy bunch stopped to listen, after I had given up hope of more tips.
14. I'm super pumped to have Leonard Cohen's "So Long, Marianne" in my repertoire. That song was written for accordion. Not too hard, and sounds really great! Can't wait to have it recognized.
The end. I was going to play again today since it's so warm out, but I simply don't feel like it. Next stop: St. Augustine, Florida!
Sunday, January 1, 2012
"If I was 100 years younger I'd make a pass at you!": New Year's Eve 2011
Alas, my 2011 Northampton busking permit is now expired, but not before one more action-packed night of playing. Well it wasn't actually action-packed, but the hours flew by! I went into Northampton with high expectations, because I did very well last year. It would have made a great blog post, but I didn't keep the blog yet and I can't seem to find any mention of things that happened that night. I didn't do as well this year as I did last year, which I attribute to the following things:
1. I had competition. The Coyote Choir was out all night as was Jesse the harp player. I'm sure Downtown Dan was playing his guitar, and someone mentioned hearing a saxophone playing "Isn't She Lovely?" on repeat. Last year I don't remember anyone else being out, so I had the crowd to myself.
2. Some locals recognize me, so the novelty of my act has worn off.
3. I didn't run into too many people I know, who tend to drop the big bills.
**Interjection: I'm super super tired (last night was New Year's Eve, after all), and I'm already doing weird typos. I'm probably not going to catch them all, so if some things don't make sense, sorry!**
However, this year I looked pretty awesome. I found a blue beaded dress with silver trip at Ultra Gal. It was baggy enough on top to fit a few layers underneath! I used the pre-existing velcro on my accordion to hold on a layer of silver fabric so it would match better. My brother helped me construct silver crown for accordion and me alike with "2012" in blue pipe cleaner, and I wore silver star earrings. At Ultra Gal I also eyed some elbow-length silver gloves, although rather than covering your fingers they just formed a triangle on the back of the user's hand and hooked over the middle finger. They looked easy enough to construct, so I made a pair with silver fabric. I made them baggy, however, to fit shirts, but they ended up looking really bad (choose your favorite: chain mail or space-age alien). I did not end up wearing them. Here's our whole getup:
I arrived in town and walked by the empty Faces pitch to do an errand, and when I came back Jesse had set up. Argh! I turned the corner at set up by Starbucks, later moving to the actual corner of Main and Masonic in front of the Fresh Pasta Co. to be in the light. This was around 3:30.
It was a generally fun night; it was great to be playing my old songs again (and I love playing Auld Lang Syne), people were in a festive mood, and, best of all, children thought I was a queen! But, I was cold. Very. When my parents showed up I had them assist me in un-safety pinning my dress so I could add one more layer. I used Toas-T-Toes for the first time. My folks also brought me cardboard to stand on. Brrr!
Saturday, December 31, 2011:
I. Children
1. A dad gave his little girl in a stroller a dollar to put in my box and wheeled her close. She dropped it, but it missed. She reached down to pick it up, reaching farther and farther until she eventually tumbled out of the stroller. Now that's a devoted fan!
2. Some preteen boys walked by. One saw my hat and commented, "Actually, it's 2013." I imagine this had been a joke previously that evening.
3. I was playing Beer Barrel Polka and these three teenage boys, at their parents' request, starting "dancing." Their move was a simple bobbing up and down. Pretty silly.
4. A kid asked for Dynamite, which I obliged!
5. A very adorable little girl was hanging around, and she was given a dollar to put in my box. She had a very hard time getting it in, and it took at least six tries. Pretty amusing for those of us looking on.
6. When that same little girl walked over with her mother, I heard the mother say, "Why don't you ask her." The girl asked me if I was a queen. Funny, even wearing a crowd I wasn't expecting that!
7. I had a strange conversation with a teenage boy. He just wouldn't accept that I'm choosing to do this. He called it "kind of sad" that I went to college and couldn't get a job, so I had to resort to this. Actually, young man, that's not it at all. He just wouldn't be swayed though, giving me all kinds of pity. Weird.
8. I took my dinner break at Sam's Pizza, as usual, which was super crowded. I sat at a table that is easily visible when you come in. These two little girls came in, and just walked right over to me. One started playing with my box, and the other stroked my dress. I loved this, I explained everything I was doing to them. On my agenda for the dinner break was to insert some toe warmers. They were fascinated, and helped me choose the right spot on my foot for them based on the picture on the wrapper. Super cute.
9. When the fireworks started, a parent asked her small child, "Is this better than in the summer?" Sounds like someone had a traumatic 4th of July.
II. Not kids
1. A man showed me the logo on the back of his Marines jacket and asked if I could play the Marines song. Luckily I practiced all these for the 4th of July, so I did pretty well! He told several passersby what I had done. Of course, I'm wary of people not catching on that I'm playing for one person and thinking that I always play patriotic songs. Same when a kid asked me to play Jingle Bells.
2. A man sat down in the outdoor seating area of Fresh Pasta Company and fed a bottle to a baby. I played Twin Peaks then, and he totally recognized it! Awesome.
3. A lot of people were asking for Beer Barrel Polka last night! I played it at least three times, and this guy sang and actually knew a lot of the words.
4. A lady who was chaperoning lots of kids asked for Auld Lang Syne, and she sang along. That was nice.
5. I saw a guy in a Giants hat! Go San Francisco!
6. Last year I got on TV. Not this year :(
Now, a more serious section. I don't often spill my deep feelings in the blog, but tonight I will address one of my FAQs: "Don't you ever get lonely?"
Yes, oh yes, I do. And I certainly did last night.
Chapter 1: General Loneliness
I am now aware that if I am going to continue being a gypsy, I sacrifice certain things, specifically developing a sense of community in one place and creating routines that involve friends, be them new or old. A few times in the past 18 months of my gypsydom I have gone to an established household of young people for events or to stay, and it is just so goddamn cozy and nice. These people have other young people around to talk to, they can host posh dinner parties, get a cat, etc. The other sacrifices I make are as a workaholic, if a busker can hold that term. When the playing is good, I want to play all the time. Sometimes that means that it's a great night in Provincetown, and rather than attending a party I was invited to where I could potentially make friends, I keep playing. Last year I was thinking about going to Worcester for a New Year's Party with lots of friends, but I decided to stay and play, and ended up making good money. The experience (and income) of playing makes it worth it to skip these events. Then there are the bigger sacrifices of moving across the country, where even if I was going to see my friends in Massachusetts, it obviously wouldn't be happening for many months. I got super lucky in San Francisco that a college friend just handed me her friends when I got there and I had a great group. I'm confident that one way or another I'll make friends where I go, but I have this lingering feeling that everyone can sense my desperation.
Chapter 2: Not caring
In recent months, I've started caring way less about my social life. I'm focusing more on my act, which thrills me so much. I feel like I'm finally developing good skills as an accordion player, and that my career is at my fingertips right now, whether I follow the tourists and busk hardcore, start a band, or try to publish my book. I've started going to bed super early which makes it easy to forget about all the young people out at bars who I should be hanging out with. If I busk enough, then I talk to enough people in a day to satisfy an imaginary "socializing" quota within all of us. I use these examples to justify not really having a social life, and sometimes I actually buy it. But...
Chapter 3: Last night
Last night, I didn't buy it. I packed up my accordion at nine and thought about what to do for one of the biggest party nights of the year. Last year I hung out with my old friend Molly and had a grand old time, but she was working. She's pretty much the only friend I have left in the area, since my other high school friends had gone back to their cities and social lives. I frantically tried to find someone to go out with, even putting a thinly-veiled desperate plea on facebook. An old friend said he'd be out, but then decided to go to New York, so I was completely alone. I went into justification-mode and reminded myself that I could have gone to Boston or New York and seen friends, but instead I decided to make a buttload* of money. I still stand behind that decision. Last year I made my sacrifice, expecting that I gave up on a fun night by playing, but then I actually had a really fun night afterwards. This gave me expectations, which mess everything up. Anyway, the brief hint of loneliness I felt got worse when I joined up with the Coyote Choir. Here I had fabricated this equation that street musicians are martyrs to fun, since it was the only solution to my pity party, but it is clearly not the case. What I'm trying to say is that there is no apparent loneliness in the Coyote Choir. The two men have each other, first of all, so they can check in about songs and breaks and comment on weirdos together. Secondly, they've been playing in Northampton for a long time and they have a following. People stop and listen. They get recognized all the time. They have no trouble finding stuff to do on New Year's Eve. I also admittedly resented them a little last night for taking the best spot and staying there all day, and also plugging a space heater into the Thornes Christmas Light outlet while the rest of us suffered in the cold. Additionally, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I'm envious of what they have. I would love having someone to share my experiences, to have a gig-worthy band to find gigs with, and of course do matching outfits (not that the CC does). What it comes down to is that I'm stingy. I want to keep all my earnings, and I want my stories to be mine exclusively. It's also easier to couch surf and make single serving friends on one's own. In the very small chance that the CC ever reads this: I love you guys. Your music is amazing, you busk well, and it was really nice of you to let me hang out with you last night!
*I recently heard a teenage interviewee use the word "buttload" on NPR (probably for the first time ever) and it reminded me how satisfying that measurement is. I'm trying to use it as much as possible.
I'm sorry, I have no idea what I'm rambling about. Haven't had a good sleep in a while. I'll wrap this up quickly and probably edit/delete all of it in the morning.
Chapter 5: Happy ending
Last night was okay. Some nights haven't ended happily, but fundamentally my New Year's Eve ended up being the best it could be, under the circumstances. I found another lonesome gypsy. After several walked laps around town reciprocating high fives and shouted greetings and grimacing at everyone sucking face on the sidewalk, I ended up outside the Dirty Truth, where someone recognized me and stopped to talk. This other guy who was outside smoking recognized me as well and confided that he was inside drinking alone. I joined him, and we agreed that this happenstance saved both of our evenings. He's a different kind of gypsy: he in fact has a "real" job, but he moves around all the time and thus suffers the same feelings of loneliness, alienation, and insignificance that I do. His job puts him up in hotels for months at a time, which makes it difficult to get to know local young people. He gets to go to really cool places, though: he just got back from a year in Manchester, UK and is headed off soon to Luxembourg. He enjoys the places but avoids getting too settled in since he'll be leaving before too long. He's back home in Vermont for the holidays, and came to Northampton with some friends to see a show. He bailed on the show and set out for a solitary NYE. We talked about places in Europe, and it became clear to me that I should expedite my Edinburgh plan. I had planned to stay near the Northeast this summer so I could attend my family reunion, my college a cappella group's 20th reunion, and my cousin's wedding. Montreal seemed to be a good choice. Talking to Drew made me realize that what I really want to do is go to Edinburgh ASAP, even if it means skipping these fun things.
Another thing I realized is that I need to hone my gimmicks. There are so many street musicians, and accordions are coming back in fashion. If I'm going to keep doing well I need a theme or something. The Elf costume was great, for example. Kids are drawn to me so my mom thinks I should focus on being a children's entertainer. Whatever happens, I'm at a stage now that I need to really know what I'm doing and do it all the time.
That is all. Sorry for getting weepy, I usually use the blog just for fun stuff and maintain my confident composure, but it slips sometimes. It's not like anyone reads this anyway!! Happy New Year!
1. I had competition. The Coyote Choir was out all night as was Jesse the harp player. I'm sure Downtown Dan was playing his guitar, and someone mentioned hearing a saxophone playing "Isn't She Lovely?" on repeat. Last year I don't remember anyone else being out, so I had the crowd to myself.
2. Some locals recognize me, so the novelty of my act has worn off.
3. I didn't run into too many people I know, who tend to drop the big bills.
**Interjection: I'm super super tired (last night was New Year's Eve, after all), and I'm already doing weird typos. I'm probably not going to catch them all, so if some things don't make sense, sorry!**
However, this year I looked pretty awesome. I found a blue beaded dress with silver trip at Ultra Gal. It was baggy enough on top to fit a few layers underneath! I used the pre-existing velcro on my accordion to hold on a layer of silver fabric so it would match better. My brother helped me construct silver crown for accordion and me alike with "2012" in blue pipe cleaner, and I wore silver star earrings. At Ultra Gal I also eyed some elbow-length silver gloves, although rather than covering your fingers they just formed a triangle on the back of the user's hand and hooked over the middle finger. They looked easy enough to construct, so I made a pair with silver fabric. I made them baggy, however, to fit shirts, but they ended up looking really bad (choose your favorite: chain mail or space-age alien). I did not end up wearing them. Here's our whole getup:
I arrived in town and walked by the empty Faces pitch to do an errand, and when I came back Jesse had set up. Argh! I turned the corner at set up by Starbucks, later moving to the actual corner of Main and Masonic in front of the Fresh Pasta Co. to be in the light. This was around 3:30.
It was a generally fun night; it was great to be playing my old songs again (and I love playing Auld Lang Syne), people were in a festive mood, and, best of all, children thought I was a queen! But, I was cold. Very. When my parents showed up I had them assist me in un-safety pinning my dress so I could add one more layer. I used Toas-T-Toes for the first time. My folks also brought me cardboard to stand on. Brrr!
Saturday, December 31, 2011:
I. Children
1. A dad gave his little girl in a stroller a dollar to put in my box and wheeled her close. She dropped it, but it missed. She reached down to pick it up, reaching farther and farther until she eventually tumbled out of the stroller. Now that's a devoted fan!
2. Some preteen boys walked by. One saw my hat and commented, "Actually, it's 2013." I imagine this had been a joke previously that evening.
3. I was playing Beer Barrel Polka and these three teenage boys, at their parents' request, starting "dancing." Their move was a simple bobbing up and down. Pretty silly.
4. A kid asked for Dynamite, which I obliged!
5. A very adorable little girl was hanging around, and she was given a dollar to put in my box. She had a very hard time getting it in, and it took at least six tries. Pretty amusing for those of us looking on.
6. When that same little girl walked over with her mother, I heard the mother say, "Why don't you ask her." The girl asked me if I was a queen. Funny, even wearing a crowd I wasn't expecting that!
7. I had a strange conversation with a teenage boy. He just wouldn't accept that I'm choosing to do this. He called it "kind of sad" that I went to college and couldn't get a job, so I had to resort to this. Actually, young man, that's not it at all. He just wouldn't be swayed though, giving me all kinds of pity. Weird.
8. I took my dinner break at Sam's Pizza, as usual, which was super crowded. I sat at a table that is easily visible when you come in. These two little girls came in, and just walked right over to me. One started playing with my box, and the other stroked my dress. I loved this, I explained everything I was doing to them. On my agenda for the dinner break was to insert some toe warmers. They were fascinated, and helped me choose the right spot on my foot for them based on the picture on the wrapper. Super cute.
9. When the fireworks started, a parent asked her small child, "Is this better than in the summer?" Sounds like someone had a traumatic 4th of July.
II. Not kids
1. A man showed me the logo on the back of his Marines jacket and asked if I could play the Marines song. Luckily I practiced all these for the 4th of July, so I did pretty well! He told several passersby what I had done. Of course, I'm wary of people not catching on that I'm playing for one person and thinking that I always play patriotic songs. Same when a kid asked me to play Jingle Bells.
2. A man sat down in the outdoor seating area of Fresh Pasta Company and fed a bottle to a baby. I played Twin Peaks then, and he totally recognized it! Awesome.
3. A lot of people were asking for Beer Barrel Polka last night! I played it at least three times, and this guy sang and actually knew a lot of the words.
4. A lady who was chaperoning lots of kids asked for Auld Lang Syne, and she sang along. That was nice.
5. I saw a guy in a Giants hat! Go San Francisco!
6. Last year I got on TV. Not this year :(
Now, a more serious section. I don't often spill my deep feelings in the blog, but tonight I will address one of my FAQs: "Don't you ever get lonely?"
Yes, oh yes, I do. And I certainly did last night.
Chapter 1: General Loneliness
I am now aware that if I am going to continue being a gypsy, I sacrifice certain things, specifically developing a sense of community in one place and creating routines that involve friends, be them new or old. A few times in the past 18 months of my gypsydom I have gone to an established household of young people for events or to stay, and it is just so goddamn cozy and nice. These people have other young people around to talk to, they can host posh dinner parties, get a cat, etc. The other sacrifices I make are as a workaholic, if a busker can hold that term. When the playing is good, I want to play all the time. Sometimes that means that it's a great night in Provincetown, and rather than attending a party I was invited to where I could potentially make friends, I keep playing. Last year I was thinking about going to Worcester for a New Year's Party with lots of friends, but I decided to stay and play, and ended up making good money. The experience (and income) of playing makes it worth it to skip these events. Then there are the bigger sacrifices of moving across the country, where even if I was going to see my friends in Massachusetts, it obviously wouldn't be happening for many months. I got super lucky in San Francisco that a college friend just handed me her friends when I got there and I had a great group. I'm confident that one way or another I'll make friends where I go, but I have this lingering feeling that everyone can sense my desperation.
Chapter 2: Not caring
In recent months, I've started caring way less about my social life. I'm focusing more on my act, which thrills me so much. I feel like I'm finally developing good skills as an accordion player, and that my career is at my fingertips right now, whether I follow the tourists and busk hardcore, start a band, or try to publish my book. I've started going to bed super early which makes it easy to forget about all the young people out at bars who I should be hanging out with. If I busk enough, then I talk to enough people in a day to satisfy an imaginary "socializing" quota within all of us. I use these examples to justify not really having a social life, and sometimes I actually buy it. But...
Chapter 3: Last night
Last night, I didn't buy it. I packed up my accordion at nine and thought about what to do for one of the biggest party nights of the year. Last year I hung out with my old friend Molly and had a grand old time, but she was working. She's pretty much the only friend I have left in the area, since my other high school friends had gone back to their cities and social lives. I frantically tried to find someone to go out with, even putting a thinly-veiled desperate plea on facebook. An old friend said he'd be out, but then decided to go to New York, so I was completely alone. I went into justification-mode and reminded myself that I could have gone to Boston or New York and seen friends, but instead I decided to make a buttload* of money. I still stand behind that decision. Last year I made my sacrifice, expecting that I gave up on a fun night by playing, but then I actually had a really fun night afterwards. This gave me expectations, which mess everything up. Anyway, the brief hint of loneliness I felt got worse when I joined up with the Coyote Choir. Here I had fabricated this equation that street musicians are martyrs to fun, since it was the only solution to my pity party, but it is clearly not the case. What I'm trying to say is that there is no apparent loneliness in the Coyote Choir. The two men have each other, first of all, so they can check in about songs and breaks and comment on weirdos together. Secondly, they've been playing in Northampton for a long time and they have a following. People stop and listen. They get recognized all the time. They have no trouble finding stuff to do on New Year's Eve. I also admittedly resented them a little last night for taking the best spot and staying there all day, and also plugging a space heater into the Thornes Christmas Light outlet while the rest of us suffered in the cold. Additionally, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I'm envious of what they have. I would love having someone to share my experiences, to have a gig-worthy band to find gigs with, and of course do matching outfits (not that the CC does). What it comes down to is that I'm stingy. I want to keep all my earnings, and I want my stories to be mine exclusively. It's also easier to couch surf and make single serving friends on one's own. In the very small chance that the CC ever reads this: I love you guys. Your music is amazing, you busk well, and it was really nice of you to let me hang out with you last night!
*I recently heard a teenage interviewee use the word "buttload" on NPR (probably for the first time ever) and it reminded me how satisfying that measurement is. I'm trying to use it as much as possible.
I'm sorry, I have no idea what I'm rambling about. Haven't had a good sleep in a while. I'll wrap this up quickly and probably edit/delete all of it in the morning.
Chapter 5: Happy ending
Last night was okay. Some nights haven't ended happily, but fundamentally my New Year's Eve ended up being the best it could be, under the circumstances. I found another lonesome gypsy. After several walked laps around town reciprocating high fives and shouted greetings and grimacing at everyone sucking face on the sidewalk, I ended up outside the Dirty Truth, where someone recognized me and stopped to talk. This other guy who was outside smoking recognized me as well and confided that he was inside drinking alone. I joined him, and we agreed that this happenstance saved both of our evenings. He's a different kind of gypsy: he in fact has a "real" job, but he moves around all the time and thus suffers the same feelings of loneliness, alienation, and insignificance that I do. His job puts him up in hotels for months at a time, which makes it difficult to get to know local young people. He gets to go to really cool places, though: he just got back from a year in Manchester, UK and is headed off soon to Luxembourg. He enjoys the places but avoids getting too settled in since he'll be leaving before too long. He's back home in Vermont for the holidays, and came to Northampton with some friends to see a show. He bailed on the show and set out for a solitary NYE. We talked about places in Europe, and it became clear to me that I should expedite my Edinburgh plan. I had planned to stay near the Northeast this summer so I could attend my family reunion, my college a cappella group's 20th reunion, and my cousin's wedding. Montreal seemed to be a good choice. Talking to Drew made me realize that what I really want to do is go to Edinburgh ASAP, even if it means skipping these fun things.
Another thing I realized is that I need to hone my gimmicks. There are so many street musicians, and accordions are coming back in fashion. If I'm going to keep doing well I need a theme or something. The Elf costume was great, for example. Kids are drawn to me so my mom thinks I should focus on being a children's entertainer. Whatever happens, I'm at a stage now that I need to really know what I'm doing and do it all the time.
That is all. Sorry for getting weepy, I usually use the blog just for fun stuff and maintain my confident composure, but it slips sometimes. It's not like anyone reads this anyway!! Happy New Year!
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