Yesterday we rocked the streets of Northampton! It was Bag Day, the annual sale day for folks carrying their brown paper bags. Stores were mobbed, and foot traffic was ample. I played for a couple hours between Faces and the Mountain Goat. I like that side of the street, but I had forgotten that a lot of hooligans hang out around there smoking and stuff and it sort of looked like they could be my groupies. Oh well.
It was a very typical afternoon of playing: there was the pianist who asked about how accordions work, thinking about playing one. There was the little girl with her mom who played Flaca. People loved Yann Tiersen. Also...
1. There was an 18-month-old with his dad. He stood at his very tall dad's feet, reaching up to hold his dad's finger, transfixed. The dad explained that he's always had a thing for accordions. The boy's expression didn't change at all, and he wouldn't budge. Adorable.
2. I got a tip for "Ring of Fire."
3. There was a weird, very disheveled looking guy who asked me a lot of questions. Even as some kids came up and I started playing for them, he kept trying to talk.
4. I had an encounter with the worst kind of listener: the musical know-it-all. I was playing "La Vie En Rose" and he stopped me and told me to play it slower, and do just the simply melody rather than the arrangement I do. I started a different song. He protested, telling me to go back to La Vie En Rose and do it that way. Then he asked if I play any Astor Piazzola. I told him it's way too hard for me. He took that to mean I hadn't heard of him, and took a very long time telling me who that was, with a long story about him. Dude, it's Bag Day, I need to play. Then he stayed and listened, which I hated. Luckily my mom came back soon and we left. Ugh.
I saw a ton of people I know, which always happens. Sometimes they recognize me (if I knew them as a kid) and sometimes they don't.
That's pretty much all I remember.
I went back out later while my parents were out to dinner with friends. That was really the best. As my faithful readers know, I love playing at night. I thought about trying to play on the Thornes side of the street, and when I went over there a group was set up. It turned out to be the Coyote Choir, an accordion-guitar-vocals duo that I had heard about and had contacted, but hadn't met. They're super nice, and they sound great. I hope to be friends with them/collaborate. The accordion player had trouble with cold hands, so I showed him my accordion gloves. He wants a pair. I want to start working on a better version! They were packing up, so they gave me that spot, right across from the Cedar Chest.
I love playing at night because people are more relaxed, just strolling, maybe on dates, maybe having drunk something. Accordion is especially good at night because of the relaxed Italian restaurant/Paris Cafe reputation it has. I am also more relaxed at night and play better. The air felt better at night too, probably because the wind had settled down. I ended up only using my left glove (and thus wasted a hand warmer).
1. There was a group of young folks from Boston who were up for the night. The lingered for a while, and gave me a few requests to which they danced ("The Way You Make Me Feel," "Dynamite," etc.)
2. Some Russians came by and asked if I knew a Russian song. I said I didn't, but the Tetris theme song sounds Russian. They were okay with that. I played it, much to the amusement of the Boston folks, and everyone was happy!
3. One girl said she didn't have money, but had an English pound. Nice!
4. A couple walked by and the guy offered me a square of their chocolate. Yesss.
5. Two girls came by and recognized me from First Night. They said they heard the accordion and wondered if it was me.
6. A man named Jesse said he recognized me from Provincetown. I assumed he was just a passerby, but then I saw his stuff. He's a busker too, a harp player. He confirmed that he's the one sometimes playing outside the candy store that I like to play at in Ptown. Cool!
7. A guy told me to play a New Orleans song "Echo Echo." I'll have to look that one up!
8. A bunch of kids came by, and two girls came right up. One said "I play piano!" and the other said "I play violin!" That one saw Flaca and said, "You must have bought that in Mexico!" or something. Smart kid!
9. A group of teenage boys kept walking by, and one danced and tipped me. Love those surprising donors!
10. I made a new set list, and included some of the songs I don't really play anymore ("What is Love?" "Love Me Tender"). They went over well!
I didn't play for long, and when I was done my parents and their dinner mates came by (who I've known my whole life). Having six people standing there listening drew others, and I had the biggest crowd I've had. They applauded after songs! I'm so not used to that, but I played better with them there. These two guys stayed as long as the parents. My mom played Flaca on one number. Having my parents there is always fun because they know my best songs and know what to request.
I'm getting excited to Elf again this year! I need to get started on other shoes, though.
Till next time!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Old Posts
There are two days from August that got lost that I didn't write about. I took notes, but unfortunately so much time has passed that I forget what most of them mean. Here they are anyway:
August 4th
Played outside of the candy shop by the Shell Shop.
1. I met Nikita, one of this year's henna boys at the West End Salon. He's from either Ukraine or Bulgaria (notes are confusing), and he was totally into my act. He said he plays guitar, but could never perform. "I suck," he explained with a heavy accent.
2. Someone said "You play nicely." I liked that, since I'm not a good accordion player. Bad accordion players can still play nicely, so that was a good compliment.
3. I saw some kids from Leverett on vacation with their parents. The little girl obviously recognized me, I've subbed in her class, but more importantly my accordion and I made an appearance in her Kindergarten classroom last year as elf and reindeer. Her parents didn't see me and didn't stop.
4. The main event: an old man came out of the shop. He said I could only play there if I got some lessons. He's Italian and he's a musician. He notices every wrong note. He says he wants to support musicians, but bad performance drives him crazy. (Another time I went back there and asked if I could play for a bit if I only played good songs. He smiled and said I could, and said no Italian songs if I was going to murder them." Fair enough.)
5. His comment surprisingly didn't bother me. It made me laugh in spite of myself. I was fine with it until this super nice lady who witnessed the whole thing said not to listen to him, that I sounded great, etc. etc. For some reason her kindness about it made my feelings on the matter turn on the spot, and suddenly i was fighting tears. i've got to get out of this town.
The rest doesn't really need noting. For my own reference:
-Ben Pegg pulled over, didn't talk to me
-Flaca, boy in trouble, buttons
-dog on skateboard
-cell phone girl
August 19th
The day after Carnival! Carnival was awesome because my BFF Kai spontaneously came to visit. He's one of my favorite people in the whole world but we rarely see each other. I bought some piano key fabric and crafted a dress for the occasion. Kai and I walked the parade route in the wrong direction and got lots of attention. I didn't busk, but I had a grand time.
The next day I thought I'd play a bit since I was driving Kai to the ferry anyway. Here's what I can decipher from my notes:
1. A guy from Minnesota said "girl's too fat for me." No idea what that means anymore.
2. Some girls said "We couldn't leave you like that!" I think that means they saw me then came back later with a tip.
3. Kid named Minna, sign language, songs, parents singing. Oh yeah, perfect kid interaction.
4. German boy with beautiful hair, serious girls, looks like Wesley Snipes (the 30 Rock character), sang along with Chim, Somewhere, Morir, What is Love.
5. Accordion in basement for 11 years (someone has).
6. Folks from Buffalo, 43rd anniversary, he's the son of a steel worker (told me life story). "Music helps" (staying married for 43 years).
7. Guy with trombone playing daughter, Long Center in Texas.
8. There was a baby in a stroller with an unconventional toy: a lint roller.
9. Teenage girl from before
10. Lots of people I know! (Jeff and Amy, Yael, Melissa McClung)
August 4th
Played outside of the candy shop by the Shell Shop.
1. I met Nikita, one of this year's henna boys at the West End Salon. He's from either Ukraine or Bulgaria (notes are confusing), and he was totally into my act. He said he plays guitar, but could never perform. "I suck," he explained with a heavy accent.
2. Someone said "You play nicely." I liked that, since I'm not a good accordion player. Bad accordion players can still play nicely, so that was a good compliment.
3. I saw some kids from Leverett on vacation with their parents. The little girl obviously recognized me, I've subbed in her class, but more importantly my accordion and I made an appearance in her Kindergarten classroom last year as elf and reindeer. Her parents didn't see me and didn't stop.
4. The main event: an old man came out of the shop. He said I could only play there if I got some lessons. He's Italian and he's a musician. He notices every wrong note. He says he wants to support musicians, but bad performance drives him crazy. (Another time I went back there and asked if I could play for a bit if I only played good songs. He smiled and said I could, and said no Italian songs if I was going to murder them." Fair enough.)
5. His comment surprisingly didn't bother me. It made me laugh in spite of myself. I was fine with it until this super nice lady who witnessed the whole thing said not to listen to him, that I sounded great, etc. etc. For some reason her kindness about it made my feelings on the matter turn on the spot, and suddenly i was fighting tears. i've got to get out of this town.
The rest doesn't really need noting. For my own reference:
-Ben Pegg pulled over, didn't talk to me
-Flaca, boy in trouble, buttons
-dog on skateboard
-cell phone girl
August 19th
The day after Carnival! Carnival was awesome because my BFF Kai spontaneously came to visit. He's one of my favorite people in the whole world but we rarely see each other. I bought some piano key fabric and crafted a dress for the occasion. Kai and I walked the parade route in the wrong direction and got lots of attention. I didn't busk, but I had a grand time.
The next day I thought I'd play a bit since I was driving Kai to the ferry anyway. Here's what I can decipher from my notes:
1. A guy from Minnesota said "girl's too fat for me." No idea what that means anymore.
2. Some girls said "We couldn't leave you like that!" I think that means they saw me then came back later with a tip.
3. Kid named Minna, sign language, songs, parents singing. Oh yeah, perfect kid interaction.
4. German boy with beautiful hair, serious girls, looks like Wesley Snipes (the 30 Rock character), sang along with Chim, Somewhere, Morir, What is Love.
5. Accordion in basement for 11 years (someone has).
6. Folks from Buffalo, 43rd anniversary, he's the son of a steel worker (told me life story). "Music helps" (staying married for 43 years).
7. Guy with trombone playing daughter, Long Center in Texas.
8. There was a baby in a stroller with an unconventional toy: a lint roller.
9. Teenage girl from before
10. Lots of people I know! (Jeff and Amy, Yael, Melissa McClung)
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
This is Halloween/Goodbye Provincetown
Since growing up, whenever that began, the magic of holidays is disappearing. Simply going through the motions of holiday rituals doesn't bring that spirit back, but, as I've learned several times now, exploiting the holiday for money does! In the past year I discovered that nothing restores the youthful romance of Valentine's Day, patriotism of Independence Day, winter wonderland of Christmas, and, now, mystery of Halloween quite like going all out and being a part of others' celebration.
We considered several owner/pet costume ideas (Wallace/Gromit, Man with Yellow hat/Curious George, Dorothy/Toto, etc.) before deciding to be especially Halloweeny and dress as a witch and black cat. I copied the old reindeer costume in black fur (in fact just covering the legs with fur) and the amazing Nate rigged up the tail and head supports using coat hangers. I had a witchy dress which I put over striped tights, gypsy boots, and many many sweaters. Here we are:
Additionally, we had to learn Halloween music. "This is Halloween" from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" was suggested, so we spent the past few days practicing that.
Around 5:00 pm we went to Ptown, expecting to see lots of people milling about in costumes. Town was totally empty. I could count the number of people I saw on one hand. I set up in front of Town Hall anyway since a family I know was coming up. I stayed there for about an hour. People were few and far between, but the donation rate was very high. All but one or two parties that walked by in this hour donated. Score! After this, I went to check out the haunted house in the Aquarium to see if the people were there. They weren't, but the man expected people once it started at seven. I decided to warm up both my fingers and insides with a drink (and wait for it to get to be later) so I went to the Squealing Pig. I've decided that if I'm going to be a real gypsy I need to develop a taste for whiskey, so I'm practicing. The cat's tail and head were attached pretty well so I didn't want to take them off to put the accordion away and risk not getting them back on. I kept the accordion out and went into the bar with my hands full of box, accordion, and witch hat.
Around 7:30 I went back out to play, and set up in Ellie's old spot across from the Crown + Anchor where I played for another hour. The nice thing about playing this time of year is that most businesses are closed so it's easy to find places to play. It was in this spot that I got that feeling of adding to the spirit. I love feeling that I'm not doing this for my own money-making or story-gathering but rather to give to others. People thanked me for being out there. For the first time in Provincetown history, I was the only street performer out. I had the soundwaves to myself. It was cold, but I felt good, and played slow, quiet songs when I wasn't playing "This is Halloween." Oh, here it is, by the way: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxdmcjox4-g
I reflected a little bit on the fact that this was likely my last time playing in Ptown, the place where it all started. I considered all that has happened since that first fateful day, as well as my adventures to come.
Here are the little things that happened:
1. A man commented "I've never seen anyone play one of those before!" I asked him if he meant an accordion or a cat. "Both," he confirmed.
2. People responded way more to my student loans sign than usual. I thought I'd get more comments on the cat costume, so that surprised me.
3. A pack of teenagers was wandering around, continually growing in size. One of them had heard me play TIH before and asked me to play it again. I was glad that teenagers these days still know the Nightmare Before Christmas!
4. A young man who lives above the Crown and Anchor also liked TIH. He said the sound wafted up to his apartment. Nice.
5. Some folks recognized me from last summer!
6. A man told me about his intentions to end his life. His name is Warren or something and I met him my first day ever playing. He said that he didn't have spare change because he was on disability. He said it'll all be over in January. He suffers every day, and has stopped his HIV medication. He wanted to wait till after the holidays for his family's sake. Pretty heavy stuff.
Only one kid gave me candy, which disappointed me. It was a fine last night of playing, although it didn't do much to help my cold :(
Next, I'll be going back to Western Mass to turn this into a book and busk in Northampton a little! After that....who knows.
Thanks for reading!
We considered several owner/pet costume ideas (Wallace/Gromit, Man with Yellow hat/Curious George, Dorothy/Toto, etc.) before deciding to be especially Halloweeny and dress as a witch and black cat. I copied the old reindeer costume in black fur (in fact just covering the legs with fur) and the amazing Nate rigged up the tail and head supports using coat hangers. I had a witchy dress which I put over striped tights, gypsy boots, and many many sweaters. Here we are:
Additionally, we had to learn Halloween music. "This is Halloween" from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" was suggested, so we spent the past few days practicing that.
Around 5:00 pm we went to Ptown, expecting to see lots of people milling about in costumes. Town was totally empty. I could count the number of people I saw on one hand. I set up in front of Town Hall anyway since a family I know was coming up. I stayed there for about an hour. People were few and far between, but the donation rate was very high. All but one or two parties that walked by in this hour donated. Score! After this, I went to check out the haunted house in the Aquarium to see if the people were there. They weren't, but the man expected people once it started at seven. I decided to warm up both my fingers and insides with a drink (and wait for it to get to be later) so I went to the Squealing Pig. I've decided that if I'm going to be a real gypsy I need to develop a taste for whiskey, so I'm practicing. The cat's tail and head were attached pretty well so I didn't want to take them off to put the accordion away and risk not getting them back on. I kept the accordion out and went into the bar with my hands full of box, accordion, and witch hat.
Around 7:30 I went back out to play, and set up in Ellie's old spot across from the Crown + Anchor where I played for another hour. The nice thing about playing this time of year is that most businesses are closed so it's easy to find places to play. It was in this spot that I got that feeling of adding to the spirit. I love feeling that I'm not doing this for my own money-making or story-gathering but rather to give to others. People thanked me for being out there. For the first time in Provincetown history, I was the only street performer out. I had the soundwaves to myself. It was cold, but I felt good, and played slow, quiet songs when I wasn't playing "This is Halloween." Oh, here it is, by the way: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxdmcjox4-g
I reflected a little bit on the fact that this was likely my last time playing in Ptown, the place where it all started. I considered all that has happened since that first fateful day, as well as my adventures to come.
Here are the little things that happened:
1. A man commented "I've never seen anyone play one of those before!" I asked him if he meant an accordion or a cat. "Both," he confirmed.
2. People responded way more to my student loans sign than usual. I thought I'd get more comments on the cat costume, so that surprised me.
3. A pack of teenagers was wandering around, continually growing in size. One of them had heard me play TIH before and asked me to play it again. I was glad that teenagers these days still know the Nightmare Before Christmas!
4. A young man who lives above the Crown and Anchor also liked TIH. He said the sound wafted up to his apartment. Nice.
5. Some folks recognized me from last summer!
6. A man told me about his intentions to end his life. His name is Warren or something and I met him my first day ever playing. He said that he didn't have spare change because he was on disability. He said it'll all be over in January. He suffers every day, and has stopped his HIV medication. He wanted to wait till after the holidays for his family's sake. Pretty heavy stuff.
Only one kid gave me candy, which disappointed me. It was a fine last night of playing, although it didn't do much to help my cold :(
Next, I'll be going back to Western Mass to turn this into a book and busk in Northampton a little! After that....who knows.
Thanks for reading!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Back in the Saddle Again
Yesterday, I took advantage of the beautiful Friday afternoon to head up to Ptown. I now have an accordion trailer for my bike, so I was able to achieve my summer goal of driving up with a full car, parking far away, and biking the rest of the way in. This was also the first time Ptown saw my newly painted bike. I wore my carnival piano dress for the hell of it.
The trailer is the perfect size for my accordion. I was donated a children's trailer and used the wheels and hitch from it. The amazing Nate built the trailer, and his neighbor Bob did all necessary welding. It's bare as it's not yet painted, but it works wonderfully.
This was the first time I took it out with my accordion in it, and I was a nervous wreck. I didn't really know how wide I was and feared hooking something and launching myself. I packed so much stuff in the trailer and basket that I didn't have my helmet. Oops. For the fear, there was also pride. I got a lot of smiles and compliments, and rode like this was something I do every day. Hopefully it will be someday! I checked out the spots as I paraded by: Amy Scotts was in the Pig pitch, and Marsha was at Town Hall with the guitar player/singer whose gender is still a mystery to me on deck. I went to show Topher my setup, and by the time I rode back Marsha had packed up and the on-deck busker was up. He/she isn't as loud as Marsha so I was confident that I could be heard at the Shell Shop corner. Here, though, I sometimes have trouble with the taffy store owner, an older Italian man. (Have I written about him yet?) I poked my head in to ask if he was there so I could ask him if I could play. The man working said, "Sorry, he's out of town till Monday." Hallelujah! I set right up.
It wasn't an extreme day in any way. There was enough crowd, enough gave me money to satisfy me, and it was perfectly room temperature outside. Often when I play I either feel really great about it or really bad. I didn't have any strong feelings (until later).
Only three things worth noting happened here:
1. This young man kept going in and out of the store and was generally lurking. He came over. I expected him to complain. Instead, he told me that he was going to do some cooking in the basement and would have to turn the fan on. He was concerned that my set list paper would blow away. Sure enough, I was right in the line of fire. I moved two feet to the left and all was fine. It was so nice of him to warn me!
2. Someone told me I was their favorite street musician, and he hoped that I come back next year. Obviously that made me feel happy, since I assume Marsha and Ben Pegg were everyone's favorite.
3. I'm at an intersection where many cars turn right towards Bradford St. One such car pulled over and the passenger got out to drop a bill or two in my box. Cars often smile, wave, honk, and thumbs up out the window, but they rarely stop.
I quit after an hour and a half or so because I was sucking pretty bad and I was worried that the guy working at the shop would develop the same sentiments as his boss about my performance. I decided to bike to the hardware store on Conwell St. and buy a second bike lock for the trailer. For the first time, I biked against traffic on the one-way Commercial St. THIS was scary. The advantage, though, was that no cars were coming up behind me so I could angle my rear-view mirror to keep an eye on the trailer at all times.
The hardware store was closed, but as I came back into town I found two men packing up their yard sale. I stopped and asked if they had any chickens. (I collect chicken figurines.) Did they ever! I scored four chickens in addition to two painted wine glasses for Anne. Then came the challenge of packing it all up. They bubble-wrapped everything, but I had to rearrange things. The trailer and basket were jam-packed, and the non-breakable wooden chicken stood proudly in the trailer peering out. All my wares made me even more nervous biking, since they were breakable. As I went back down commercial street, my fear came true and I hooked a sign post. It made a loud noise and I promptly received a huge dose of adrenaline. Everything was fine, though. The trailer was okay, the sign was okay, and I wasn't launched headfirst into oncoming traffic. I decided I needed a beer, but first I went to Arnold's bike rental place to see if they sold bike locks. Success. The guys there complimented the trailer, and the man in charge said that he's thinking about building similar models to rent to dog-lovers to transport their canine pals.
After having a deliciously Autumnal pumpkin beer and meeting the Squealing Pig bartender (important for later) I set up at my favorite spot across the street. It was prime dinner time, but the streets were pretty bare. It was getting cold fast, and my fingers weren't cooperating very well. I loove playing after dark though, and the chill reminded me of my days playing in Boston. I wasn't sure if the Patio owner was in, but I played as softly as I could anyway. I played only slow songs, hoping to provide a pleasant sound from the shadows. It paid off, since two things happened:
1. A middle-aged couple came out of the Squealing Pig and said it was their anniversary. They wanted a romantic song. I played "La Vie En Rose" and they danced. It was very cute. Later, I went to dinner at the Pig and the bartender presented to me an envelope. It turns out this couple bought me a gift certificate. That touched me so much that my music provoked such generosity. I had a delicious dinner on Rich and Bonnie.
2. A waitress from the Patio came over. I assumed she was sent to deliver her boss's usual message of "scram." Instead, she said that there were newlyweds at the corner table who would love to hear "That's Amore." I couldn't think of how it went before "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie" so I called my brother to ask him to sing it. He couldn't think of it either so he brought it up on youtube and held the phone up. Aren't brothers the best? After a secret practice round I sauntered over and performed it for the new brides and their friends. I followed it with a round of "Here Comes the Bride" then we settled on "Bella Notte" as the finale. The couple posed for many kissing photos during this, as did other members of their posse. They handed me the money I usually make in a half hour! Not a second too soon, because I was freezing and wanted to quit.
The moral of this day of playing is that I can't half-ass it. I undoubtedly half-assed it this summer and as a result I forgot all my songs. I couldn't finish anything I learned from sheet music (Beyond the Sea, La Vie en Rose, Fly Me To the Moon--my best songs). If I'm going to do this right, I should suck as little as possible, and that can only be achieved through playing as often as I can.
I biked back to my car which was the scariest part yet. I was against traffic, without a helmet, my bike was full of chickens, AND it was dark out. I'm excited to use the trailer more and get used to it! Too bad winter's a-coming.
Hope we can go out in Ptown again!
The trailer is the perfect size for my accordion. I was donated a children's trailer and used the wheels and hitch from it. The amazing Nate built the trailer, and his neighbor Bob did all necessary welding. It's bare as it's not yet painted, but it works wonderfully.
This was the first time I took it out with my accordion in it, and I was a nervous wreck. I didn't really know how wide I was and feared hooking something and launching myself. I packed so much stuff in the trailer and basket that I didn't have my helmet. Oops. For the fear, there was also pride. I got a lot of smiles and compliments, and rode like this was something I do every day. Hopefully it will be someday! I checked out the spots as I paraded by: Amy Scotts was in the Pig pitch, and Marsha was at Town Hall with the guitar player/singer whose gender is still a mystery to me on deck. I went to show Topher my setup, and by the time I rode back Marsha had packed up and the on-deck busker was up. He/she isn't as loud as Marsha so I was confident that I could be heard at the Shell Shop corner. Here, though, I sometimes have trouble with the taffy store owner, an older Italian man. (Have I written about him yet?) I poked my head in to ask if he was there so I could ask him if I could play. The man working said, "Sorry, he's out of town till Monday." Hallelujah! I set right up.
It wasn't an extreme day in any way. There was enough crowd, enough gave me money to satisfy me, and it was perfectly room temperature outside. Often when I play I either feel really great about it or really bad. I didn't have any strong feelings (until later).
Only three things worth noting happened here:
1. This young man kept going in and out of the store and was generally lurking. He came over. I expected him to complain. Instead, he told me that he was going to do some cooking in the basement and would have to turn the fan on. He was concerned that my set list paper would blow away. Sure enough, I was right in the line of fire. I moved two feet to the left and all was fine. It was so nice of him to warn me!
2. Someone told me I was their favorite street musician, and he hoped that I come back next year. Obviously that made me feel happy, since I assume Marsha and Ben Pegg were everyone's favorite.
3. I'm at an intersection where many cars turn right towards Bradford St. One such car pulled over and the passenger got out to drop a bill or two in my box. Cars often smile, wave, honk, and thumbs up out the window, but they rarely stop.
I quit after an hour and a half or so because I was sucking pretty bad and I was worried that the guy working at the shop would develop the same sentiments as his boss about my performance. I decided to bike to the hardware store on Conwell St. and buy a second bike lock for the trailer. For the first time, I biked against traffic on the one-way Commercial St. THIS was scary. The advantage, though, was that no cars were coming up behind me so I could angle my rear-view mirror to keep an eye on the trailer at all times.
The hardware store was closed, but as I came back into town I found two men packing up their yard sale. I stopped and asked if they had any chickens. (I collect chicken figurines.) Did they ever! I scored four chickens in addition to two painted wine glasses for Anne. Then came the challenge of packing it all up. They bubble-wrapped everything, but I had to rearrange things. The trailer and basket were jam-packed, and the non-breakable wooden chicken stood proudly in the trailer peering out. All my wares made me even more nervous biking, since they were breakable. As I went back down commercial street, my fear came true and I hooked a sign post. It made a loud noise and I promptly received a huge dose of adrenaline. Everything was fine, though. The trailer was okay, the sign was okay, and I wasn't launched headfirst into oncoming traffic. I decided I needed a beer, but first I went to Arnold's bike rental place to see if they sold bike locks. Success. The guys there complimented the trailer, and the man in charge said that he's thinking about building similar models to rent to dog-lovers to transport their canine pals.
After having a deliciously Autumnal pumpkin beer and meeting the Squealing Pig bartender (important for later) I set up at my favorite spot across the street. It was prime dinner time, but the streets were pretty bare. It was getting cold fast, and my fingers weren't cooperating very well. I loove playing after dark though, and the chill reminded me of my days playing in Boston. I wasn't sure if the Patio owner was in, but I played as softly as I could anyway. I played only slow songs, hoping to provide a pleasant sound from the shadows. It paid off, since two things happened:
1. A middle-aged couple came out of the Squealing Pig and said it was their anniversary. They wanted a romantic song. I played "La Vie En Rose" and they danced. It was very cute. Later, I went to dinner at the Pig and the bartender presented to me an envelope. It turns out this couple bought me a gift certificate. That touched me so much that my music provoked such generosity. I had a delicious dinner on Rich and Bonnie.
2. A waitress from the Patio came over. I assumed she was sent to deliver her boss's usual message of "scram." Instead, she said that there were newlyweds at the corner table who would love to hear "That's Amore." I couldn't think of how it went before "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie" so I called my brother to ask him to sing it. He couldn't think of it either so he brought it up on youtube and held the phone up. Aren't brothers the best? After a secret practice round I sauntered over and performed it for the new brides and their friends. I followed it with a round of "Here Comes the Bride" then we settled on "Bella Notte" as the finale. The couple posed for many kissing photos during this, as did other members of their posse. They handed me the money I usually make in a half hour! Not a second too soon, because I was freezing and wanted to quit.
The moral of this day of playing is that I can't half-ass it. I undoubtedly half-assed it this summer and as a result I forgot all my songs. I couldn't finish anything I learned from sheet music (Beyond the Sea, La Vie en Rose, Fly Me To the Moon--my best songs). If I'm going to do this right, I should suck as little as possible, and that can only be achieved through playing as often as I can.
I biked back to my car which was the scariest part yet. I was against traffic, without a helmet, my bike was full of chickens, AND it was dark out. I'm excited to use the trailer more and get used to it! Too bad winter's a-coming.
Hope we can go out in Ptown again!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Smokin'
Last night may have been the best night of busking yet. I played well, I played a lot of songs, I had a good spot, interesting people stopped, no one gave me a hard time, and I didn't get cold, hot, hungry, bored, or tired. Oh, and I made good money!
I almost didn't go because I worked that day and was kind of pooped, but it was a lovely Saturday night so I went for it. I took the bus since I have two friends who were working in Ptown that night with whom I could carpool home. I love taking the bus, I always talk to interesting people. Also when I take the bus I head straight to the public restroom, where the monitor there recognizes me. She asks about business and if I got a good spot that day. Even though I don't feel bad not tipping other buskers, I do feel bad not tipping her.
I chose to not even try the Pig spot since I would be there for a long set and surely Mr. Patio would have something to say. I went to Town Hall where Will had the big pitch and a new statue in town had the corner. He's a older gentleman dressed as a bronze military man. I politely asked him how much longer he planned to use that spot. He ignored me. Good job of staying in character. Some of his crowd watched our interaction and applauded his stillness. I approached him several times but he wouldn't respond! What an asshole! Finally, I went really close to talk quietly in case he could subtly indicate a period of time to me without breaking character. He saw me and made a talking gesture and pointed to another gentleman. It turns out he's deaf. Oops. Well, good for him. The assistant/translator was super nice, and said that he had just come back from a break and had a few hours to go. He suggested I play across Ryder St. in front of the the Shell Shop building. Usually I hate when people tell me where to play rather than negotiating a compromise for the spot I want, but I considered it. I always thought it was a private spot, but the assistant assured me it wasn't.
As it goes, this is my new favorite spot. It could not be any better. At first a fan was blowing loudly, but it turned off. There, I have a great street in front of me with the foot traffic off the pier (which I don't always get at the Pig). I have a view of the beach for my own pleasure. There is a wide sidewalk across the street where people lingered to watch/listen to me. There is a set of steps into the candy store on my left where people sat to listen. As darkness fell and other buskers were obscured, I had a spotlight from the candy store. Best of all, I was at a busy intersection with cars and people that necessitated a crossing guard. He would stop foot traffic to let cars park which meant large groups were forced to stand there for minute right in front of me. I thought immediately of playing at the Ferry Building in San Francisco that gave me the same benefit of pedestrian rules. When people were again allowed to walk, I had big packs coming towards me as well for whom I could save my best songs.
In addition to the spot being so ideal, I was doing better than usual as well. A couple weeks ago, a guy biked by and said "Don't just stand there, move to the music!" It's true that I'm so used to my songs that I usually space out and just play the notes and don't give much of a performance. That was also a comment I got from May last year, that the songs I'm into are more fun to watch than the ones I don't care about. Last night, every song was my favorite song and I played the hell out of them. I smiled, bounced/tapped a little, and held my instrument up high. The new thing I like to do to look super passionate is to use my pectoral muscles. When my arms have extended the bellows as far as they can but I need more air on a note, I puff up my chest to give the bellows an extra inch or two. I get more air this way, and I imagine that I look like a professional accordionista. I also played all my songs, which I don't usually do. I have a long set list but I usually skip most of it. It occurred to me that I chose to learn all these song for a reason, and I need to give them some bellows time so they can climb the ranks to be as popular as my ace songs.
The main reason things were so good is that I simply loved what I was doing. More often than not these days I don't enjoy myself while playing and wonder what the hell I'm doing. Last night, however, was not one of those nights. I was greatly enjoying myself, and I was so proud of how far I've come on the instrument and how I'm using it. It was one of those nights that makes you want to quit your day job. Additionally, I wondered about the effect of my positive attitude last night and the positive response of passersby on each other: were people listening and donating because I looked like I loved what I was doing or was I loving it because people were listening or donating? I'm sure both matter. I received my record number of 5-dollar bills last night, and the well-lit nature of my pitch indicates that they weren't accidental. Ptown's been slower this year, but last night I got my New Year's Eve hourly wage! Anyway, that was a very long introduction. Here's what happened!
Saturday, July 23, 2011:
1. A little girl with curly hair and a green dress ran over and stood in front of me to listen. Then she saw a dog so she ran over to see it. Then she ran back to listen more. I asked if she had a favorite song, and she didn't say anything. Finally her adults caught up with her, and explained that she speaks only French. The universe is giving me so many signs that I need to learn French. They're French Canadian and have a son, Antoine, in addition to young Genevieve. The dad asked if I knew this French singer, Charles N-something, and played me a song of his iphone. I didn't recognize it. Their friend saw my babysitting flyer and exclaimed "un guardian!" or something. Sure enough, I have a babysitting gig this week! I guess the little boy speaks a little English, but otherwise I'm on my own language-wise.
2. A couple made their mark when the man asked, "Can I put the money in your squeezebox?" I assumed the worst and commented accordingly, and they stayed and listened for a while. They're nice people from Maine who wanted to hear my most "kickin'" song. I forget what I played. Probably Beer Barrel Polka.
3. With my old sign, green marker on cardboard, people would see it an exclaim, "Sophie's smokin' squeezebox!" with glee. That hasn't happened with my new sign, but last night it did! You can still read it! People pay more attention to the loan sign these days, so I'm glad to know my stagename is still a source of entertainment.
4. A young guy recognized "Elephant Gun," declaring Beirut the best band ever. Rightly so.
5. Right at the beginning of my set (song #2) I played "Beyond the Sea." An older gentleman talked to me after, and commented, "That is a French song that Americans know because it was given English lyrics." I confessed having not known it was French until I started getting comments like that. He said that people like him and me are lucky to know the background of the song. True that. I like it better in my "French" category rather than my "Older" (1920s-40s) category. Speaking of "La Mar," it was requested by the French family as well!
6. I met a woman named Sophie! This interaction is a perfect example of why last night was so damn good. Usually my interactions with Sophies are quick and non-profitable. They like to take pics then walk away. This Sophie, on the other hand, stuck around to talk and was generally super nice. She was older, in her sixties. We're both Sophias. I asked if she knew that in 2009, Sophia was the #4 baby girl name in America. She added that it started with dogs, and then moved on to children. When she was a kid, she didn't know any other Sophies. Grey-haired Sophies are the best. I hope to find a young Sophie doing something fun when I'm a grey-haired Sophie.
7. A woman dropped a bill (a fiver, I think!) "This is for having guts. I have an accordion too." "You should bring it out!" "Oh, no, people would pay me to stop!"
8. A kid ran by with a dollar in his hand. He dropped a coin into my box, then continued and gave the dollar to the statue. Ouch. At least hide it, kiddo!
9. A man who looked vaguely familiar lingered for a song. He asked, "I'm Shawn. Do you remember me?" When I hesitated, he said, "We met on Newbury St." "The artist?" I asked. The artist indeed! When I was an elf in Boston last winter, an artist set up near me to paint the street at dusk. I loved his work, but didn't stay long enough for his show. I jokingly asked him if he finished his portrait of me in my costume. He gave me a postcard and said he has an art opening tonight. In fact, he said through a straight face, his life-size portrait of me as an elf was hanging front and center at the gallery! If only. He's just as nice as I remembered, and encouraged me to come by. I agreed to, once it was confirmed that there was wine and cheese. It turns out he lives in Falmouth and commuted to both Newbury St. and Ptown, so I'm sure I'll see him again. I ended up not going to the opening because the playing was so good that I didn't stop until it was time to go. 'Twould have been fun though.
10. People asked for Beer Barrel Polka twice! Good thing I remember it!
11. I ran into two ARHS faculty members, as I did last year. This year they brought their kids!
12. Guess who biked by? John Waters, movie director. Looked at me, but no reaction.
13. Two guys stopped and asked if they could take a picture with me. One photographed while the other posed and a lady walking by offered to take one of the three of us. I liked this, because it is the personal rule of Tim, my host dad in San Francisco, to always offer to take the group photo when you see this scenario. I adopted that rule as well, and have implemented it a few times (once in Mexico in Spanish!). I told this lady that I share that philosophy and she agreed that more people should do it.
14. I was right outside of one Salt Water Taffy store and across the street from another. I kept waiting for a kid to find a flavor he/she didn't like and drop it into my box. Finally a girl dropped something into my box that landed with a thud. I exclaimed, "Finally, I've been waiting for someone to drop me some taffy all night!" The girl and her mom politely smiled. When I emptied my box later that night, there was no taffy to be found. She must have dropped coins all along, and wondered what the hell I was talking about.
15. A guy I recognized but couldn't place (maybe the Swiss man I met last year?) made a joke: "The statue said he wants to switch. He can play accordion and you can go stand there in his place!"
16. Amy Winehouse. Let's talk about her. As you have probably heard, she died yesterday. I reckoned I was one of the few who knew, since most passersby had spent the day on the beach. I tried out a couple of her songs, which were actually quite easy ("Rehab" and "You Know I'm no Good"). Playing them made me super sad. I never gave her much thought, but she should inspire us all to get to work on our projects. I'm sure she intended another album, but she waited and mucked around and then it was too late. Of course she took steps into the negative in addition to not working on the positive, but it's still a good lesson. What am I waiting for with all my projects and goals and dreams? (I drove super carefully on the way home that night with mortality on my mind. It occurred to me that maybe this night of playing was TOO good. I barely exceeded 40 MPH on route six.)
Anyway, somehow Amy came up with this middle-aged lady. Her take on it was, "She had such a talent but just couldn't figure out how to live!" In her company I gave Rehab another spin and she teared up a little. "She shouldn't have said 'No no no!'" This lady laughed in spite of herself, but also confirmed my own sadness. Death at 27 is always sad! That said, I want to actually practice her songs, now that I know how easy they are. ("You Know I'm No Good" is the chord progression I use when I Klezmer-ize songs!)
17. At one point, a band set up at the main Town Hall pitch and they were too loud! I was going to wait for someone I knew to walk by and asked him/her to either ask them to turn it down or watch my stuff while I did, but alas no one showed up. For a while it was mayhem. When the statue left, he was replaced by the balloon man who sings along with recording of old standards while making balloon animals. He's loud and annoying as well. Because I was in this magical spot, though, neither was enough to drown me out.
When I packed up I went to talk to the band. It turns out it was Ben Pegg, a guitar player who I've never had much of an affection for, with an upright bass player. I always expect the worst when complaining to other musicians about their volume, but the bass player was super nice.
18. One interesting thing is that I like to play "Donna E Mobile" early on to test my ability that day. It's so easy, so if I mess it up I know I'm doomed that day. I didn't play it for a while last night but when I did I totally butchered it. That was surprising because everything else was okay!
19. Should have mentioned this sooner: I saw some old friends! When I was boarding the bus to Ptown I got a text from Chris Skoglund, friend from college and band-mate in The Farhanettes (2006) asking if I was in Ptown. He was there with Jon Moran, Sune, and her boyfriend Sam, all folks I lived with freshman year at Clark. They came to Ptown for the day. It was great to see them! Hopefully Chris will quit his day job and come on the road with me.
20. Funiculi Funicula. Note to self: learn the ending!!! I played it several times last night, and a man stopped to listen. He said that he knows that one and explained that Jerry Garcia used to pick the melody in the middle of a song. This man also asked, "You know how electric guitar players made faces while they're shredding?" "Yeah." "Well you totally do it too!" Ha.
21. There were lots of bachelor/ette parties last night! They're usually characterized by groups of women in heels, one of which wearing a crown made of penes (I first saw "penes" used as the plural of "penis" in Cat's Cradle, and will forever use it). When I see these groups, I like to play "Here Comes the Bride." Usually they ignore me (typical heteros, right??). Tonight, there was a bachelor party as well. A group of men wearing all white strolled along wearing colorful veils. The two men in front donned rainbow veils. Unlike they women, they LOVED their bridal serenade. Their laughter continued when I seriously offered to play at their wedding on Thursday!
22. Sometimes I get people who stay for a while, contribute suggestions, and chat. Sometimes they're cool, sometimes they're annoying. I had two last night. The first, a dude, was annoying. It's nice that we share a passion for music, but his long detailed description of this new piece of equipment he bought took away from my playing time. Did sound cool, though. The second was a teenage girl from NYC. She was super pumped about the ocean, and told me about pier jumping that day. Apparently she belly flopped and it really hurt. She had a lot to say about people being cheap when she witnessed an interaction between some teenage boys regarding a donation. I was pumped that a teenage boy was choosing to donate to my cause on his own. The girl listened to what they were saying, and took offense somehow for my sake. Nice to have a fan! The song she requested was Lady Gaga's Alejandro. While I played it another teenage boy came over, so I turned it into the medley. The boy sang along, and I got a small crowd! This was nice, because I've been phasing out the Gaga medley since it's getting a little outdated with all the new songs out there. Glad to know it still works!
23. Something I noticed last night was that my donors represented many different races and nationalities. With the exception of traditions in Louisiana and Mexico, the accordion really has its history with white people, and it's usually white people that donate, comment, and also play. Last night, we were all one family under the sky, we're a family under one sky (as Dayspring would sing).
24. Some more Ptown characters: the pedicab captain and the mean hippie. I've come to recognize the Pedicab pedalers and we usually smile wave. There's one older guy who I take to be in charge. Usually he ignores me, but last night I got my first smile and save from him! Conversely, I continue to get nothing from the mean hippie. There's this young man who rocks a style straight from a 1970s halloween costume: long hair, beard, round glasses, flowy shirt, vest, belt, bell-bottoms, boots. He's clearly a local, and I've found that the locals I see regularly at least acknowledge my presence, if not talk to me. He just walks by coolly every time.
25. A [gay] man walked up, and not breaking eye contact, came in really close, as if he was going to whisper something in my ear. Instead he kissed me on the cheek, smiled, and walked away. (That's a good thing)
26. Towards the end of the evening, a woman tipped me and said, "This is for all the Italian songs." I knew I was learning them for a reason! That brings us to...
27. Italian songs! I learned a couple, and they were being well-received. I've decided to prioritize learning more. Lil Red is Italian, of course, and she seems to love playing Italian songs. I quickly learned a couple more this week, so now "Come Back to Sorrento" and "Marianna/Marina" (which is it??) have joined "Santa Lucia," "La Donna E Mobile," and "Funiculi Funicula."
28. A man dropped a bill and said, "Carry on, my friend." Obviously rehearsed. Will do, sir.
29. Best interaction of the night! Two men stopped, and one said he has an identical accordion! It's a red Iorio! Later he revised that statement and said it's a 48-bass and a little bigger. Still so cool to hear that, mine's the only Iorio I know. He asked about my story, and I told him. He lives in New York and took lessons for ten years. The conversation ended with joking about buying his from him which took a turn for the not-humorous (as in, not a joke. Could happen). He said his Mom is downsizing and he might actually sell it to me. That would be absolutely amazing if the accordion I upgrade to is a slightly bigger version of my perfect accordion. I've been calling mine "Lil Red," and then I could call his "Big Red," naturally. I even offered foster care for a year or two rather than a permanent sale. I hope to hear from him.
30. My notes say "paint." I'll have to get back to you on that one when my memory kicks in.
31. Wow, how's that for timing. I just saw that I have a new email, and it's from the PAINTER I met last night, which is clearly what #30 is about! I met a painter who asked if he could take photos to paint from, and he sent it over:
Check out his work at http://www.davidwellsroth.com/
32. Chris Jim John Tom. These young men whose appearance Clarkies would describe as "metal" (long hair, scary band t-shirts) kept walking by and showing excitement about my act. Finally as I was packing up we talked. Two live in Wellfleet and two are visiting. I asked for requests, and Jim asked for Sublime. Luckily I learned Santeria last winter! I played it and fun was had by all, including two girls walking by. I haven't been playing it because it appeals to a very small set of people (not children, not elderly, not gays), but it could be quite a success with the right audience. They also told me to learn Funkytown right as the Funkmobile drove by. They introduced themselves as Chris, Jim, John and Tom. I commented that it was a mouthful, and they said they also respond to "Hey douchebags." Ha. Hope to see them again!
33. As I was packing up at 11:00 (when the permit ends, the latest I've ever packed up), a lone teenage boy came over. I told him to make a request and he said "Ice Ice Baby." Then he ran off. The cops were right there monitoring traffic so I didn't want to exceed 11:00, even though I doubt they'd say anything. Also, I had to meet Alice for a ride back then. When I lingered in Saki while Alice got ready, a co-worker of hers tried to guess what was in the box. He asked if it was alive and I pointed out the lack of airholes. He then guessed "A dead rabbit or pigeon, then?" Almost.
34. Almost forgot, a little boy was transfixed by the instrument. I presented him with Flaca, hoping to bend gender norms by getting a little boy to play with a doll. Alas, he was not into her, but totally into the accordion. Mom played Flaca instead.
I don't dare remember anything else or my brain will melt being at the computer for this long! This was such a lovely night, thanks for reading!
I almost didn't go because I worked that day and was kind of pooped, but it was a lovely Saturday night so I went for it. I took the bus since I have two friends who were working in Ptown that night with whom I could carpool home. I love taking the bus, I always talk to interesting people. Also when I take the bus I head straight to the public restroom, where the monitor there recognizes me. She asks about business and if I got a good spot that day. Even though I don't feel bad not tipping other buskers, I do feel bad not tipping her.
I chose to not even try the Pig spot since I would be there for a long set and surely Mr. Patio would have something to say. I went to Town Hall where Will had the big pitch and a new statue in town had the corner. He's a older gentleman dressed as a bronze military man. I politely asked him how much longer he planned to use that spot. He ignored me. Good job of staying in character. Some of his crowd watched our interaction and applauded his stillness. I approached him several times but he wouldn't respond! What an asshole! Finally, I went really close to talk quietly in case he could subtly indicate a period of time to me without breaking character. He saw me and made a talking gesture and pointed to another gentleman. It turns out he's deaf. Oops. Well, good for him. The assistant/translator was super nice, and said that he had just come back from a break and had a few hours to go. He suggested I play across Ryder St. in front of the the Shell Shop building. Usually I hate when people tell me where to play rather than negotiating a compromise for the spot I want, but I considered it. I always thought it was a private spot, but the assistant assured me it wasn't.
As it goes, this is my new favorite spot. It could not be any better. At first a fan was blowing loudly, but it turned off. There, I have a great street in front of me with the foot traffic off the pier (which I don't always get at the Pig). I have a view of the beach for my own pleasure. There is a wide sidewalk across the street where people lingered to watch/listen to me. There is a set of steps into the candy store on my left where people sat to listen. As darkness fell and other buskers were obscured, I had a spotlight from the candy store. Best of all, I was at a busy intersection with cars and people that necessitated a crossing guard. He would stop foot traffic to let cars park which meant large groups were forced to stand there for minute right in front of me. I thought immediately of playing at the Ferry Building in San Francisco that gave me the same benefit of pedestrian rules. When people were again allowed to walk, I had big packs coming towards me as well for whom I could save my best songs.
In addition to the spot being so ideal, I was doing better than usual as well. A couple weeks ago, a guy biked by and said "Don't just stand there, move to the music!" It's true that I'm so used to my songs that I usually space out and just play the notes and don't give much of a performance. That was also a comment I got from May last year, that the songs I'm into are more fun to watch than the ones I don't care about. Last night, every song was my favorite song and I played the hell out of them. I smiled, bounced/tapped a little, and held my instrument up high. The new thing I like to do to look super passionate is to use my pectoral muscles. When my arms have extended the bellows as far as they can but I need more air on a note, I puff up my chest to give the bellows an extra inch or two. I get more air this way, and I imagine that I look like a professional accordionista. I also played all my songs, which I don't usually do. I have a long set list but I usually skip most of it. It occurred to me that I chose to learn all these song for a reason, and I need to give them some bellows time so they can climb the ranks to be as popular as my ace songs.
The main reason things were so good is that I simply loved what I was doing. More often than not these days I don't enjoy myself while playing and wonder what the hell I'm doing. Last night, however, was not one of those nights. I was greatly enjoying myself, and I was so proud of how far I've come on the instrument and how I'm using it. It was one of those nights that makes you want to quit your day job. Additionally, I wondered about the effect of my positive attitude last night and the positive response of passersby on each other: were people listening and donating because I looked like I loved what I was doing or was I loving it because people were listening or donating? I'm sure both matter. I received my record number of 5-dollar bills last night, and the well-lit nature of my pitch indicates that they weren't accidental. Ptown's been slower this year, but last night I got my New Year's Eve hourly wage! Anyway, that was a very long introduction. Here's what happened!
Saturday, July 23, 2011:
1. A little girl with curly hair and a green dress ran over and stood in front of me to listen. Then she saw a dog so she ran over to see it. Then she ran back to listen more. I asked if she had a favorite song, and she didn't say anything. Finally her adults caught up with her, and explained that she speaks only French. The universe is giving me so many signs that I need to learn French. They're French Canadian and have a son, Antoine, in addition to young Genevieve. The dad asked if I knew this French singer, Charles N-something, and played me a song of his iphone. I didn't recognize it. Their friend saw my babysitting flyer and exclaimed "un guardian!" or something. Sure enough, I have a babysitting gig this week! I guess the little boy speaks a little English, but otherwise I'm on my own language-wise.
2. A couple made their mark when the man asked, "Can I put the money in your squeezebox?" I assumed the worst and commented accordingly, and they stayed and listened for a while. They're nice people from Maine who wanted to hear my most "kickin'" song. I forget what I played. Probably Beer Barrel Polka.
3. With my old sign, green marker on cardboard, people would see it an exclaim, "Sophie's smokin' squeezebox!" with glee. That hasn't happened with my new sign, but last night it did! You can still read it! People pay more attention to the loan sign these days, so I'm glad to know my stagename is still a source of entertainment.
4. A young guy recognized "Elephant Gun," declaring Beirut the best band ever. Rightly so.
5. Right at the beginning of my set (song #2) I played "Beyond the Sea." An older gentleman talked to me after, and commented, "That is a French song that Americans know because it was given English lyrics." I confessed having not known it was French until I started getting comments like that. He said that people like him and me are lucky to know the background of the song. True that. I like it better in my "French" category rather than my "Older" (1920s-40s) category. Speaking of "La Mar," it was requested by the French family as well!
6. I met a woman named Sophie! This interaction is a perfect example of why last night was so damn good. Usually my interactions with Sophies are quick and non-profitable. They like to take pics then walk away. This Sophie, on the other hand, stuck around to talk and was generally super nice. She was older, in her sixties. We're both Sophias. I asked if she knew that in 2009, Sophia was the #4 baby girl name in America. She added that it started with dogs, and then moved on to children. When she was a kid, she didn't know any other Sophies. Grey-haired Sophies are the best. I hope to find a young Sophie doing something fun when I'm a grey-haired Sophie.
7. A woman dropped a bill (a fiver, I think!) "This is for having guts. I have an accordion too." "You should bring it out!" "Oh, no, people would pay me to stop!"
8. A kid ran by with a dollar in his hand. He dropped a coin into my box, then continued and gave the dollar to the statue. Ouch. At least hide it, kiddo!
9. A man who looked vaguely familiar lingered for a song. He asked, "I'm Shawn. Do you remember me?" When I hesitated, he said, "We met on Newbury St." "The artist?" I asked. The artist indeed! When I was an elf in Boston last winter, an artist set up near me to paint the street at dusk. I loved his work, but didn't stay long enough for his show. I jokingly asked him if he finished his portrait of me in my costume. He gave me a postcard and said he has an art opening tonight. In fact, he said through a straight face, his life-size portrait of me as an elf was hanging front and center at the gallery! If only. He's just as nice as I remembered, and encouraged me to come by. I agreed to, once it was confirmed that there was wine and cheese. It turns out he lives in Falmouth and commuted to both Newbury St. and Ptown, so I'm sure I'll see him again. I ended up not going to the opening because the playing was so good that I didn't stop until it was time to go. 'Twould have been fun though.
10. People asked for Beer Barrel Polka twice! Good thing I remember it!
11. I ran into two ARHS faculty members, as I did last year. This year they brought their kids!
12. Guess who biked by? John Waters, movie director. Looked at me, but no reaction.
13. Two guys stopped and asked if they could take a picture with me. One photographed while the other posed and a lady walking by offered to take one of the three of us. I liked this, because it is the personal rule of Tim, my host dad in San Francisco, to always offer to take the group photo when you see this scenario. I adopted that rule as well, and have implemented it a few times (once in Mexico in Spanish!). I told this lady that I share that philosophy and she agreed that more people should do it.
14. I was right outside of one Salt Water Taffy store and across the street from another. I kept waiting for a kid to find a flavor he/she didn't like and drop it into my box. Finally a girl dropped something into my box that landed with a thud. I exclaimed, "Finally, I've been waiting for someone to drop me some taffy all night!" The girl and her mom politely smiled. When I emptied my box later that night, there was no taffy to be found. She must have dropped coins all along, and wondered what the hell I was talking about.
15. A guy I recognized but couldn't place (maybe the Swiss man I met last year?) made a joke: "The statue said he wants to switch. He can play accordion and you can go stand there in his place!"
16. Amy Winehouse. Let's talk about her. As you have probably heard, she died yesterday. I reckoned I was one of the few who knew, since most passersby had spent the day on the beach. I tried out a couple of her songs, which were actually quite easy ("Rehab" and "You Know I'm no Good"). Playing them made me super sad. I never gave her much thought, but she should inspire us all to get to work on our projects. I'm sure she intended another album, but she waited and mucked around and then it was too late. Of course she took steps into the negative in addition to not working on the positive, but it's still a good lesson. What am I waiting for with all my projects and goals and dreams? (I drove super carefully on the way home that night with mortality on my mind. It occurred to me that maybe this night of playing was TOO good. I barely exceeded 40 MPH on route six.)
Anyway, somehow Amy came up with this middle-aged lady. Her take on it was, "She had such a talent but just couldn't figure out how to live!" In her company I gave Rehab another spin and she teared up a little. "She shouldn't have said 'No no no!'" This lady laughed in spite of herself, but also confirmed my own sadness. Death at 27 is always sad! That said, I want to actually practice her songs, now that I know how easy they are. ("You Know I'm No Good" is the chord progression I use when I Klezmer-ize songs!)
17. At one point, a band set up at the main Town Hall pitch and they were too loud! I was going to wait for someone I knew to walk by and asked him/her to either ask them to turn it down or watch my stuff while I did, but alas no one showed up. For a while it was mayhem. When the statue left, he was replaced by the balloon man who sings along with recording of old standards while making balloon animals. He's loud and annoying as well. Because I was in this magical spot, though, neither was enough to drown me out.
When I packed up I went to talk to the band. It turns out it was Ben Pegg, a guitar player who I've never had much of an affection for, with an upright bass player. I always expect the worst when complaining to other musicians about their volume, but the bass player was super nice.
18. One interesting thing is that I like to play "Donna E Mobile" early on to test my ability that day. It's so easy, so if I mess it up I know I'm doomed that day. I didn't play it for a while last night but when I did I totally butchered it. That was surprising because everything else was okay!
19. Should have mentioned this sooner: I saw some old friends! When I was boarding the bus to Ptown I got a text from Chris Skoglund, friend from college and band-mate in The Farhanettes (2006) asking if I was in Ptown. He was there with Jon Moran, Sune, and her boyfriend Sam, all folks I lived with freshman year at Clark. They came to Ptown for the day. It was great to see them! Hopefully Chris will quit his day job and come on the road with me.
20. Funiculi Funicula. Note to self: learn the ending!!! I played it several times last night, and a man stopped to listen. He said that he knows that one and explained that Jerry Garcia used to pick the melody in the middle of a song. This man also asked, "You know how electric guitar players made faces while they're shredding?" "Yeah." "Well you totally do it too!" Ha.
21. There were lots of bachelor/ette parties last night! They're usually characterized by groups of women in heels, one of which wearing a crown made of penes (I first saw "penes" used as the plural of "penis" in Cat's Cradle, and will forever use it). When I see these groups, I like to play "Here Comes the Bride." Usually they ignore me (typical heteros, right??). Tonight, there was a bachelor party as well. A group of men wearing all white strolled along wearing colorful veils. The two men in front donned rainbow veils. Unlike they women, they LOVED their bridal serenade. Their laughter continued when I seriously offered to play at their wedding on Thursday!
22. Sometimes I get people who stay for a while, contribute suggestions, and chat. Sometimes they're cool, sometimes they're annoying. I had two last night. The first, a dude, was annoying. It's nice that we share a passion for music, but his long detailed description of this new piece of equipment he bought took away from my playing time. Did sound cool, though. The second was a teenage girl from NYC. She was super pumped about the ocean, and told me about pier jumping that day. Apparently she belly flopped and it really hurt. She had a lot to say about people being cheap when she witnessed an interaction between some teenage boys regarding a donation. I was pumped that a teenage boy was choosing to donate to my cause on his own. The girl listened to what they were saying, and took offense somehow for my sake. Nice to have a fan! The song she requested was Lady Gaga's Alejandro. While I played it another teenage boy came over, so I turned it into the medley. The boy sang along, and I got a small crowd! This was nice, because I've been phasing out the Gaga medley since it's getting a little outdated with all the new songs out there. Glad to know it still works!
23. Something I noticed last night was that my donors represented many different races and nationalities. With the exception of traditions in Louisiana and Mexico, the accordion really has its history with white people, and it's usually white people that donate, comment, and also play. Last night, we were all one family under the sky, we're a family under one sky (as Dayspring would sing).
24. Some more Ptown characters: the pedicab captain and the mean hippie. I've come to recognize the Pedicab pedalers and we usually smile wave. There's one older guy who I take to be in charge. Usually he ignores me, but last night I got my first smile and save from him! Conversely, I continue to get nothing from the mean hippie. There's this young man who rocks a style straight from a 1970s halloween costume: long hair, beard, round glasses, flowy shirt, vest, belt, bell-bottoms, boots. He's clearly a local, and I've found that the locals I see regularly at least acknowledge my presence, if not talk to me. He just walks by coolly every time.
25. A [gay] man walked up, and not breaking eye contact, came in really close, as if he was going to whisper something in my ear. Instead he kissed me on the cheek, smiled, and walked away. (That's a good thing)
26. Towards the end of the evening, a woman tipped me and said, "This is for all the Italian songs." I knew I was learning them for a reason! That brings us to...
27. Italian songs! I learned a couple, and they were being well-received. I've decided to prioritize learning more. Lil Red is Italian, of course, and she seems to love playing Italian songs. I quickly learned a couple more this week, so now "Come Back to Sorrento" and "Marianna/Marina" (which is it??) have joined "Santa Lucia," "La Donna E Mobile," and "Funiculi Funicula."
28. A man dropped a bill and said, "Carry on, my friend." Obviously rehearsed. Will do, sir.
29. Best interaction of the night! Two men stopped, and one said he has an identical accordion! It's a red Iorio! Later he revised that statement and said it's a 48-bass and a little bigger. Still so cool to hear that, mine's the only Iorio I know. He asked about my story, and I told him. He lives in New York and took lessons for ten years. The conversation ended with joking about buying his from him which took a turn for the not-humorous (as in, not a joke. Could happen). He said his Mom is downsizing and he might actually sell it to me. That would be absolutely amazing if the accordion I upgrade to is a slightly bigger version of my perfect accordion. I've been calling mine "Lil Red," and then I could call his "Big Red," naturally. I even offered foster care for a year or two rather than a permanent sale. I hope to hear from him.
30. My notes say "paint." I'll have to get back to you on that one when my memory kicks in.
31. Wow, how's that for timing. I just saw that I have a new email, and it's from the PAINTER I met last night, which is clearly what #30 is about! I met a painter who asked if he could take photos to paint from, and he sent it over:
Check out his work at http://www.davidwellsroth.com/
32. Chris Jim John Tom. These young men whose appearance Clarkies would describe as "metal" (long hair, scary band t-shirts) kept walking by and showing excitement about my act. Finally as I was packing up we talked. Two live in Wellfleet and two are visiting. I asked for requests, and Jim asked for Sublime. Luckily I learned Santeria last winter! I played it and fun was had by all, including two girls walking by. I haven't been playing it because it appeals to a very small set of people (not children, not elderly, not gays), but it could be quite a success with the right audience. They also told me to learn Funkytown right as the Funkmobile drove by. They introduced themselves as Chris, Jim, John and Tom. I commented that it was a mouthful, and they said they also respond to "Hey douchebags." Ha. Hope to see them again!
33. As I was packing up at 11:00 (when the permit ends, the latest I've ever packed up), a lone teenage boy came over. I told him to make a request and he said "Ice Ice Baby." Then he ran off. The cops were right there monitoring traffic so I didn't want to exceed 11:00, even though I doubt they'd say anything. Also, I had to meet Alice for a ride back then. When I lingered in Saki while Alice got ready, a co-worker of hers tried to guess what was in the box. He asked if it was alive and I pointed out the lack of airholes. He then guessed "A dead rabbit or pigeon, then?" Almost.
34. Almost forgot, a little boy was transfixed by the instrument. I presented him with Flaca, hoping to bend gender norms by getting a little boy to play with a doll. Alas, he was not into her, but totally into the accordion. Mom played Flaca instead.
I don't dare remember anything else or my brain will melt being at the computer for this long! This was such a lovely night, thanks for reading!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Be Kind to Your Fine Feathered Friends part 2
The actual 4th of July! I played in the afternoon because I had to work that evening. Booo.
1. A woman named Sheryl came by with her small daughter. It turns out she used to work with my parents and they had run into each other at the campground. The daughter was great with Flaca.
2. A drunk annoying man also played with Flaca, no thanks.
3. Saw some Leveretteers!
4. A guy walked by, gave my accordion the up and down, and declared, "Mine was bigger."
5. Some folks asked what was in the box as I was walking to meet my brother (fun!) I told them to guess. The guy thought it contained a cat costume that I was going to put on.
6. Someone requested "Smoke on the Water." Not a bad idea.
The end!
1. A woman named Sheryl came by with her small daughter. It turns out she used to work with my parents and they had run into each other at the campground. The daughter was great with Flaca.
2. A drunk annoying man also played with Flaca, no thanks.
3. Saw some Leveretteers!
4. A guy walked by, gave my accordion the up and down, and declared, "Mine was bigger."
5. Some folks asked what was in the box as I was walking to meet my brother (fun!) I told them to guess. The guy thought it contained a cat costume that I was going to put on.
6. Someone requested "Smoke on the Water." Not a bad idea.
The end!
Be Kind to Your Fine Feathered Friends, part 1
Part 1 because I did a 4th of July practice round the Saturday before, which is what this post is about! I never leave enough time to get outfits ready (except for the elf), so we scrambled a patriotic outfit together: a blue and white polka-dot dress that's way too short uncomfortably yanked down to almost reach my knees topped with a formerly white blouse that went through the wash with a yellow scarf once and tied around the waist with some red ribbons borrowed from another dress. I covered a party hat with white paper and blue stars to go with it's natural red tinsel-y stuff. Nothing for my smokin' squeezebox. I started playing at the bench area by the pier, and moved to the Town hall.
1. I played "Blowin' in the Wind" for one of the first times, and I immediately got a thumbs up from an obvious hippie across the street. Way to stereotype yourself, guy.
2. Some parents gave their kid money to give to me, but he tried to pocket it instead (this happens not infrequently). When his parents made him fork it over, he stuck his tongue out at me. All mine!!!
3. I solved one of the greatest mysteries of all time! There are three personae I would see in Provincetown, and I suspected that they might all be the same man. One is a street performer who sings along with old songs on a bad sound system. Really obnoxious. But he also makes balloon animals. Another is the local pilgrim, this guy who rides around on a huge tricycle in a pilgrim costume ringing a bell. The third is Ellie, the famous cross-dressing Diva ("78 years young and still living the dream!"). However, this notion of body-sharing was dismissed once I was waiting to play in front of Town Hall. Ellie died last year and there was a memorial to her outside Town Hall. The balloon guy was performing. Then the Pilgrim rode by. THAT would be an impressive feat for one person!
4. While I was waiting for the Town Hall spot (and eating a delicious dinner of veggie sticks), this guy came and sat next to me. We had a strange conversation. I started to write it down when it happened, but stopped because I was sure I would never forget it. But I did. I can tell you the following things: my converser's name is Ian, he has green hair, he does martial arts and has a baby daughter named Sophia. He informed me that sex and weed are good, and invited me to have sex with him.
5. A guy made a bad joke about distracting me and taking all my money or something. Ha.
6. A guy said he plays the concertina! Usually these folks chip in if they're into squeeze instruments enough to come talk. He said, "I'd give you a dollar, but I'm on a budget." Gee, thanks.
7. May rolled by in time to see me in my getup playing "Stars and Stripes Forever." She said, "That's my girl." She loves the gimmicks!
8. A man came up to me and asked, "Do you have an aunt named Laura?" I sure do! It turns out this guy (Jamey) went to high school with my Aunt Laura. They had reunited when she was on college tours with her kids, and had mentioned her accordion-playing niece in Provincetown. Cool!
9. Someone asked where the statue lady was. I said "She's retired from the statue business." They paused for a second, then asked, "Is it you??" Nope, sorry.
10. I had previously established that the tour bus driver lady loves Wallace and Gromit. I played the song when she went by, but she totally didn't react.
11. I played "Morir Soñando," a Mexican waltz that literally no one but Flaco Jimenez and me has heard of. One guy must have mistaken it for something else, because he barked at another passerby, "You know the words, sing!" I don't even know the words!
12. Someone asked exactly how much I have in loans, then bragged that his kid has $400,000 of loans for medical school. Fine, your kid wins.
13. A dog walked by with 4th of July face paint. Oy.
(Stuff I noted but can't remember:
-Ambulance HEY
-Blow kiss
-asians "Red" balloon)
On to part 2!
1. I played "Blowin' in the Wind" for one of the first times, and I immediately got a thumbs up from an obvious hippie across the street. Way to stereotype yourself, guy.
2. Some parents gave their kid money to give to me, but he tried to pocket it instead (this happens not infrequently). When his parents made him fork it over, he stuck his tongue out at me. All mine!!!
3. I solved one of the greatest mysteries of all time! There are three personae I would see in Provincetown, and I suspected that they might all be the same man. One is a street performer who sings along with old songs on a bad sound system. Really obnoxious. But he also makes balloon animals. Another is the local pilgrim, this guy who rides around on a huge tricycle in a pilgrim costume ringing a bell. The third is Ellie, the famous cross-dressing Diva ("78 years young and still living the dream!"). However, this notion of body-sharing was dismissed once I was waiting to play in front of Town Hall. Ellie died last year and there was a memorial to her outside Town Hall. The balloon guy was performing. Then the Pilgrim rode by. THAT would be an impressive feat for one person!
4. While I was waiting for the Town Hall spot (and eating a delicious dinner of veggie sticks), this guy came and sat next to me. We had a strange conversation. I started to write it down when it happened, but stopped because I was sure I would never forget it. But I did. I can tell you the following things: my converser's name is Ian, he has green hair, he does martial arts and has a baby daughter named Sophia. He informed me that sex and weed are good, and invited me to have sex with him.
5. A guy made a bad joke about distracting me and taking all my money or something. Ha.
6. A guy said he plays the concertina! Usually these folks chip in if they're into squeeze instruments enough to come talk. He said, "I'd give you a dollar, but I'm on a budget." Gee, thanks.
7. May rolled by in time to see me in my getup playing "Stars and Stripes Forever." She said, "That's my girl." She loves the gimmicks!
8. A man came up to me and asked, "Do you have an aunt named Laura?" I sure do! It turns out this guy (Jamey) went to high school with my Aunt Laura. They had reunited when she was on college tours with her kids, and had mentioned her accordion-playing niece in Provincetown. Cool!
9. Someone asked where the statue lady was. I said "She's retired from the statue business." They paused for a second, then asked, "Is it you??" Nope, sorry.
10. I had previously established that the tour bus driver lady loves Wallace and Gromit. I played the song when she went by, but she totally didn't react.
11. I played "Morir Soñando," a Mexican waltz that literally no one but Flaco Jimenez and me has heard of. One guy must have mistaken it for something else, because he barked at another passerby, "You know the words, sing!" I don't even know the words!
12. Someone asked exactly how much I have in loans, then bragged that his kid has $400,000 of loans for medical school. Fine, your kid wins.
13. A dog walked by with 4th of July face paint. Oy.
(Stuff I noted but can't remember:
-Ambulance HEY
-Blow kiss
-asians "Red" balloon)
On to part 2!
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