Elephants Don't Pay

Saturday came again really fast! I didn't busk during the week. I can use the excuses of a Kaiho show and moving apartments, I guess. One work-related project I did this week was make one new sign, cover the loans sign with contact paper to waterproof it, and strengthen its support system (more duct tape, string to serve as a hypotenuse so the sign stops drooping forward! This last thing is a project that's been a long time coming. All this was prompted by getting caught in the rain/snow on my first Farmer's Market day here, where the piano keys of my main sign got smeared. I bought a white paint pen to touch up the keys, before contact papering the sign to prevent future incidents. This really makes the sign permanent, and now it looks kind of blank next to Flaca's, but that's okay.

I got the Farmer's Market spot again! I was sort of late, around 12:30. Robbie said that there had been other musicians earlier, two other acts! I guess my secret's not a secret. It was forecasted to rain all day, but luckily that was not the case. Good hour and a half at the market. Here's what happened:

Saturday, 3 March 2012, Part I
1. A family of parents and a baby stopped listen during "La Noyée." They tipped me after, explaining, "[The baby's] called Amelie." Awesome! They ended up staying for a bit, letting the 8-month-old Amelie "walk" around, and even had some Flaca time. Hope to see them again!

2. A little girl stopped by to play Flaca soon after I had played "Ring of Fire" for the first time. I've been playing simple upbeat songs during Flaca's dance numbers, usually Wallace and Gromit. After, I asked if she wanted to hear a song, expecting a kid's song. She didn't talk, but her dad piped up that she likes Ring of Fire. All right! Played it again and Flaca danced and danced.

3. A guy tipped, and said "More Twin Peaks!" Yeahh! Played him off with Laura's Theme. Americans have really been put to shame on this one!

4. Two folks walked by with what I guessed to be a cello and guitar. Ooh musicians, they'll probably tip! As they walked away I saw the chair, signifying that they wanted to busk. Ha!

5. Flaca kept breaking! I had to untie some of her strings to change her clothes, and I guess I didn't tie them back on strong enough. Two of them slipped out! She could dance with one arm and leg, but not with no head. I'll have to glue them.

6. Right across from where I play at the Saturday market is the East Coast Organics produce stand. One of the guys working had a toddler with him. At the end of the market, the mom showed up and lingered with the kid. He toddled over in his red shoes, blue pants, yellow shirt, and green jacket and checked out my scene. He was unfazed by Flaca, and put his interests towards Flaca's tip box. Specifically, he wanted it closed. But he wasn't interested in rattling the money in it. He ran over a few times, and one point declaring to his mother, "Pennies!"

Packed up when the market was packing up. George wasn't working, (his wife was?) so no will power was required to avoid the haggis.

I stopped on route to my second set on the Royal Mile to eat, and sat on a sunny bench in Grassmarket. I had packed an exciting tupperware full of rice, cucumber, and avocado. When I prepared it in the morning I thought I was was a genius, pretty much making veggie maki without the seaweed. Delicious. A few hours later, the avocado was all brown and the cucumber had been softened by the warm rice--ew!

As I basked in the sun with my legs up on the box, a man stopped and commented on the box. He was wearing a warm tweed jacket over a yellow shirt, and looked sort of like an old version of a young Dustin Hoffman, without looking much like Dustin Hoffman. This was an interesting conversation. I wish someone had written it down verbatim.

He introduced himself, and tried to guess what was in the box. He had quite the time of this. "Does it explode?" No. "It's a love bomb. Do you know what that is? It's when you bomb somebody because you love them." Then he guessed art, but I swayed him to music. He never guessed musical instruments. Once he knew it was music, he wouldn't budge on the fact that it was either a stereo, a jukebox, or a jack-in-the box. "Does it spin?" No. "Then it pops up." Nope. "The cool thing is something that I do, not that it does." "Oh, so it's manual. A hand-cranked phonograph." NO!!! He kept circling these options, and I told him he was missing a major category. Once he knew it was an instrument, he went through every section of the orchestra: brass? woodwind? strings? What stringed instrument fits in a 17" x 17" x 6" box? Is it an instrument that originates in America? No. Then he guessed everywhere in the world except Europe. Had to give him that one. He got it! He then commented on the aboriginal art motifs on the box. Australian aboriginal art. On the sides. I peered at the right side. "No, this side!" The sides are identical! And definitely not aboriginal Australian motifs. He asked why I had chosen Scotland to play, when I could go anywhere. Like...Mexico! I said "I'd love to, but unfortunately I have to choose places with lots of expendable income and rich tourists if I'm going to get by." He agreed with this, stating his own experience. He's Australian, and he's working for the Scottish government. He chose this job because they paid best! He had gotten offers all over...Botswana. "Botswana may have elephants, but it doesn't have money!" "Elephants don't pay!"

Anyway, continued on! Once again everyone was out on the Royal Mile. Dieter in silver, Charlie Chaplin, bagpiper, a guitar and violin duo, and then four girls singing right across from where I wanted to go! I probably should have listened to them, since female vocal quartets are my number one favorite thing in the world, but I was frustrated! I was at North Bridge by then, so I figured I would just go over to New Town and try Rose St. Luckily it started raining!! I secretly love when it rains, because it means I get to stop. I ducked into Sainsbury's to see if they have Rice Milk (so far Waitrose is the only supermarket to have Rice Milk WITH Calcium, and they're no longer my local stop now that I've moved!). By the time I got out, it had stopped raining. It was too early to bail if it was clear. There were some people out on Rose St., and I actually got a good spot. It was the spot I started at before that homeless man yelled at me previously. He wasn't out though (maybe because of the rain?), so I jumped on it. I was a little worried that the guitar player a block away would get mad, and then karma did its duty when the sitar player set up equidistant to me as I was to the guitar player. Fine.

I only have five notes here, so this should be quick!

Saturday 3 March 2012, Part II

1. The hen parties were out and about! One seemed to be "cowboys and indians" themed. They certainly responded to "Here Comes the Bride." The prospect of this song being recognized always gives me my least favorite, tempo-raising, brow-moistening adrenaline rush! So annoying!

2. Some preteen girls wearing Justin Bieber t-shirts came over and asked if I knew any Justin Bieber. I don't! They told me to learn "Baby." I think I'll give in and do just that.

3. A little boy holding a fake severed hand. I've seen kids walking by holding some crazy stuff, but this was a first!

4. Another problem: it seems that the gold grate on my accordion is eroding Flaca's cheek in the box. I noticed the red dust on the accordion, then saw the damaged cheek. It's always something!! I have to stop putting so much stuff in that box.

5. Nice moment: a woman stopped by who looked down on her luck. Few teeth, ratty hair and clothes, the works. She was so incredibly sweet. She just adored Flaca, and went on about how lovely she is. "Where did you get such a lovely doll?" "I got her in Mexico!" "Oh, how lovely! I've been to Mexi...well, Greece!" "Look her just sitting there, watching the world go by! Lovely like her mama!" "I'll have to tell me daughter about this lovely girl!" She had a heavy accent, but I was able to understand most of it. She said she'd love to give me something, but didn't have enough even to eat. She promised we'd see each other again, and instructed me to keep it up. This interaction really stayed with me; thinking about how people react to the less privileged. Obviously this isn't news to anyone, but why can't we show some compassion? This woman obviously has enough love to go around, so why can't everyone stop and have a decent conversation with her? I wonder what happened to her. Where's her daughter? I hope I see this woman again, and try to help her in my own way.

One last thing: I hate the wind!!! I've supported the loans sign with a string, always stand on my set list to not lose it, and I've rubber banded my Let's Go Europe book/Flaca's stand after the blowing pages last weekend. But yesterday it kept taking my S^3 sign!! Argh.

That's all. Didn't busk today, probably not going to. It was raining before, and now it's not but there are certain things I must do like talk to my parents and practice for choir practice tonight!!

Thanks for reading, and sorry for all the inevitable typos! (Inevitable because I tried to speed through today's posts and didn't proofread.)