As the snow falls against the early darkening January sky, I am finally sitting down to write a post about last summer. Last summer, when I would wake up, attach my accordion trailer to my bike, pedal to one of my restaurants, waitress all day, sprint to the bus stop to catch the shuttle to Ptown, busk for a few hours, and somehow make it home again to go to bed then do it again the next day.
Phew. I was determined to make back the money I had spent in the previous year's European trip in half the time. This left no time to blog, despite all that was happening and all I wanted to share. This will therefore be a long post. Feel free to scroll down to the usual one-liners list!
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| At my usual spot outside Cabot's Candy |
Introduction to Season #3
It was a little strange embarking on a third summer in Provincetown, the place I had first busked. It's hard to say if the general vibe had changed at all, but some of the personnel had. Cady the statue who had been so nice to me my first summer was long gone. I didn't once see the famous May who had spent previous summers wheeling around lovingly heckling me and giving me genuinely useful tips. Is she still around?
I had come a long way as a busker since the fall of 2011, and my act had changed quite a bit. I had a piano dress, I had new songs, and mostly I had Flaca. It was a whole new show. Inspired by the camaraderie between the Edinburgh buskers, I made an effort to get to know the other Ptown musicians. It turns out they organize the Town Hall pitch, verbally reserving slots every two hours. I sometimes involved myself in it but more often stayed a block down.
Will, who was also new the summer of 2010, went from being a bleach-blonde 14-year-old guitarist to an incredible 17-year-old pianist. He wheels his hand-painted beat-up upright from its alleyway to the town hall and belts out old soul songs. This kid is truly a staple of the street. Some of the other long-time buskers were still around, and up to their old tricks. I was pleased that I got to know Lorijo this year; the cowboy-hat-wearing guitar player with a beautiful voice. I was always aware of her, but we hadn't introduced ourselves until this year. She is such a sweetheart and helped me navigate the social history between some of the buskers.
And, of course, there's Jaia. I think Jaia is my fairy godmother. She is a beautiful, blonde artist who specializes in face painting on the street. She transforms children into colorful, sparkly versions of whatever they want, and she is so nice about it. I got to know her even more this year because she was living in Wellfleet (and drove me home on several occasions), and we would sometimes share the space outside Cabot's. One Saturday we decided to pack up early and go see "Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche" at the Crown and Anchor. This was a strange but ultimately funny bit of theater, and it was nice to just pack it in and have some fun for a change.
PITCH
What made last summer so special was the fact that I had a regular spot: outside of Cabot's Candy. The family that owns it is just so friendly and accommodating. I started playing there my first summer, when I was hardly an accordion player. The "dad" came outside, suggested I take lessons, and told me I could only play Italian songs if I wasn't going to "murder them." Ouch! But sure enough I've improved in the three years since that day, which the owner noticed.
It was one of the sons, though, Ross, that I mostly interacted with this year, and we developed a friendship. He was so nice to me, and I tried to repay him by sending customers into their shop rather than the other candy shop across the street. He did present a few conditions over the course of the summer, though. First, I had to learn the Slim Whitman version of "La Paloma Blanca." Easy. Second was that I had to stop playing "Paint it Black." This one was harder, since it's probably my most popular song. But it was okay, since I had other songs. Third was that I had to learn "Ring of Fire" which I conveniently already did, and the fourth requirement I never came through with: to learn the first few measure of Bach's "Toccata and Fugue." Hey, maybe next year. Anyway, I cannot thank these guys enough for making it so much easier for me to do my street act in Provincetown.
Some locals welcomed me back, which was nice. Vacationers
recognized me from Northampton, the Amherst Farmer's Market, and even
the Somerville Squeezebox Slam!
THE INCREDIBLE JOURNEY HOME
One challenge this summer, though, was transportation. I opt not to own a car because I travel so much and I also just don't like paying for things. The CCRTA bus system is fine for getting TO Provincetown, but the last bus heading back towards Wellfleet leaves ludicrously early at 8:00 pm. I find that nights are better for busking in the summer both because people are out and about then and I don't have to deal with heat and sunscreen. Since it was getting dark around 8:00, that's when I preferred to START playing.
My technique for getting home last summer was literally to count on running into someone I knew and beg them for a ride. Yes, it's quite pathetic and embarrassing, but what was I to do? In July and August, this technique worked. I scored rides with co-workers, their siblings and friends, and families I had waited on at my day job. Once I went home with a 19-year-old cab driver who happened to be a friend's friend. One former co-worker drove me home right after getting the tattoo she had planned since she was 13: a single freckle on her right forearm. It was a token of friendship with the other passenger in the car, since no one would notice their matching tattoos but they knew they were there. I liked that idea.
When it got to be 10:00 or so and I still hadn't nailed down a ride, I started displaying a sign that said, "Will play for ride to Wellfleet." One man was quite concerned, asked how much a cab home would be, and gave me that money, saying, "Take care of your life." Wow. I did score a ride that night, and tucked the money he gave me into a secret pocket of my backpack for future use in emergencies.
As a backup plan I would take the North Truro shuttle, which runs until midnight, to my friend's house to spend the night. The first time was unplanned, and I scared the crap out of him breaking in at midnight when he was asleep. Not the best backup plan.
I may not spend another summer on the Cape, but if I do I have to either live in Provincetown or get a car. I'm too old for stressful ride issues!
THAT TIME IT RAINED
One day, it was rainy. I hated missing the day though, so I decided to go into town anyway. Thinking back to my Fringe days I figured I could hold an umbrella in my right hand, play the left hand of the accordion, and do melodies on kazoo. I couldn't get my hands on a kazoo so I ended up bungee-ing the umbrella to my body and playing on the keyboard around the umbrella. This worked a little bit, and, best of all, one lady who walked by was none other than Mrs. Ellis, my first grade teacher. Always a joyful reunion!
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| Yes, I played "Singin' in the Rain" |
BEAR WEEK
As you may know, Provincetown has several theme weeks: Girl Splash, Family Week, Women of Color Week, and my favorite, Bear Week. In previous years I made more of an effort to play during Bear Week, but this year we at least had three sets of ears (mine, my accordion's, and Flaca's):
CARNIVAL
Another highlight of each summer in Provincetown has been Carnival in August. With a different theme each year, folks put together elaborate costumes for events during the week, leading up to the big parade. This year's theme was "Viva Las Vegas."
The carnival week began, and folks began to parade by me in Las Vegas-themed costumes for
various tea dances and costume contests. A man and a woman walked by
in PERFECT pilot costumes. But I realized they could have just been
Cape Air pilots. I had no way of knowing if they were in costume or
just pilots Next, two gladiators walked by. Same problem!! (JK LOL)
This was the first year I actually played on carnival parade day. My first year I just wore animal print and drank, like you're supposed to do, and my second year my dear friend Kai spontaneously came to visit for the day, so again we partook in the festivities (fun fact: I made my piano dress for Carnival 2011, and started wearing it to busk as an after-thought).
I got a ride into town early in the morning since I wanted to stake out my spot. From 9:00 to about 11:00 I just guarded my pitch, leaning against a lingering UPS truck for shade. It was a really hot day. I wasn't dressed for the theme, but rather wore my piano dress with the standard mardis gras beads. Spectators started arriving even before I did, lining Commercial Street with their beach chairs. I got to know a couple that was next to me, and it turned out they were from Springfield. They generously shared the contents of their cooler with me: cold soda. Mmm. I also didn't have any theme-appropriate songs to play, having had no time to learn "Viva Las Vegas" itself. So I played my normal stuff, realizing at one point that the "Downton Abbey" theme song is definitely the LEAST Las Vegas-y song I play.
This was not a lucrative day at all. Most of the people who were listening to me play before the parade were stuck there, guarding their spots. Those who walked by thought I was just doing it for fun, or part of the parade, so they didn't tip. I stopped to watch the parade, full of men with chiseled bodies wearing gold speedos, thumping music, and the obligatory bubbles being blown.
Afterwards would have been the time to play. A lot of people stayed in town for the remainder of the evening, getting dinner, more drinks, and the buskers seemed to be doing very well. But at that point I was tired. I wanted to go home. But of course I had my ride issue. I saw people I knew, but they had hours of partying ahead of them before they were going home. I was also more wary than usual about drunk drivers. And so I ended up hopping on the North Truro shuttle as far as Terra Luna, where my cousin was working, and hitching a ride home. I was tired and grumpy, but this bus ride was so fun. In the spirit of carnival, the driver had turned the stereo up so we all sang along to "YMCA," "New York New York," "It's Raining Men," etc. We all enthusiastically bid goodnight to whomever was disembarking. It was a nice end to the night.
Oh, before I got on the bus I swung by Zoe Lewis' to leave my accordion, since I'd be returning for rehearsal the following day. She and Sharon were in for the night, after a long day as parade judges, and the scene was so nice. 20s music played, naturally, as they drank wine, ate chocolate, and played dominos. They poured me a glass and broke me off a couple squares and I stayed for a bit and chatted, which, in itself, was a highlight of the summer.
ZOE LEWIS AND THE BOOTLEGGERS
One of the biggest highlights of the summer for me was when musician
Zoe Lewis recruited me off the street to play at her "Speakeasy." Every other Tuesday or so, Zoe would transform the Velvet Lounge into a Cabaret and invite performers to sing songs from the 1920s and 1930s, accompanied by "The Bootleggers" on bass, drums, and saxophone, usually. Everyone wore time-appropriate clothing and drank gin and tonics. This was a fabulous time. I played Tico Tico and even sang the verses. It was so fun to actually sing for a change. Flaca had her own dance solo. You may not know this about me, but I absolutely love close-harmony sister singing groups, like the Andrews Sisters and Boswell Sisters. My dream is to find two other "sisters" and cover all their songs. I arranged one to do at a fall Speakeasy, but I was too busy with work to rehearse. Here's Zoe in the middle in her top hat, Sharon to her right as "the cigarette girl," and some crooners:
SHOWGIRLS
The Speakeasy I performed at couldn't have come at a better time, actually. This event was in the immediate aftermath of my mortifying participation in Showgirls. Showgirls is a staple of the Provincetown entertainment scene, occurring every Monday night of the high season. People sign up and perform, and the winner gets $500. It's a worthy thing to attempt. All the buskers have done it, and they encouraged me to go for it. One busker performed at Showgirls just to "face her fear of queens." Well, I didn't have a fear of queens before that night, but I certainly do now!
See, most of the performers are amateur drag queens. And many of them are MEAN. The judges are in drag as well, and they offer commentary, good or bad, throughout each act. My act didn't go over badly, it was just boring compared to these huge performances. Just little ol' me in my piano dress playing the accordion with the smallest eyelashes and boobs in the whole venue. I would have felt better about it if I could have used Flaca, which I planned to do, but there wasn't a way to boost her up to make her visible. If I do another summer on the Cape I'll put a lot of planning into an act, make it a little inappropriate, perform before the really good queens get to town, and wear my false eyelashes and my old gold speedo. It was definitely an experience outside of my comfort zone. I was so glad to soon after zoom back to the 20s with Zoe, where I fit in a little better.
T-SHIRTS
P-town is a great place for t-shirt watching, which is all I do while I'm playing. Yes, t-shirts get their own bulk text section this year because there were some good ones:
-A couple walked by with “Just
Married” t-shirts. The man's said, “Under New Management”
(yay!) and the woman's said, “Change of Ownership” (boooo.)
Still clever, though.
-Other amusing shirts I saw were "Drunkin' Grownups," in the Dunkin Donuts font, and "In dog beers I've only had one!"
-I started to get a
little annoyed with all the Boston Strong gear. I felt like it
exploited the bombing and clearly made money off it, as could be seen by
the quantity of shirts. And in Ptown they're sold at all the normal
t-shirt shops along with Cape Cod shirts and “Bitch 1” and “Bitch
2” shirts. The commercialism of it struck me as being disrespectful.
And now, without further ado...
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All the crazy/funny/heartwarming stuff that happens on the street, summer 2013 edition:
1. A guy with a French accent said,
“Thank you, Sophie, for this moment.” He also took a video on
his iPad and I asked if he would send it to me. He agreed, and said
it would be a couple of days. I told him there was no hurry, and that
if he found it in two years he could send it then. He said, “I
will have changed my tablet before two years!” But of course!
2. A family stopped by when I was
playing the Indiana Jones theme song. They asked afterwards if I could do
ET. I said no, but offered Wallace and Gromit, which they
enthusiastically accepted. The parents encouraged the kid to dance,
and he did, to my delight: he simply raised his arms to chest level,
elbows out, and kept them still while he shook his hips. The parents
joined in, leading me to believe it's a dance they do at home.
3. I talked to some nice ladies who excused themselves when our chat was winding down by saying, “Stanley Steamers is coming for
dinner, so we've got to go clean.” Am I supposed to know what that means? Is that like Aunt Flo?
4. And now, for my absolute favorite interaction of
the summer. I got to town early one day and set up on the beach to
read The Hunger Games and kill some time before peak busking time. But
then I got a text from Jaia the face painter warning me that a "guitar
guy" was in my spot. Oh no! I packed up my stuff, preparing for the
worst, to go bargain with him for my pitch.
I
turned the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that this
"guitar guy" who threatened the very foundation on which my art stood
was about 4'5" and would fit in nicely at, say, a bar mitzvah. Yes,
this was Jaia's little joke. Alex played guitar to accompany Ellis, who
sang. The 11- and 12-year-old stepbrothers were busking for the first
time, inspired the previous night by none other than yours truly. They
could not have been more charming and adorable. Ellis was the more
outspoken one, having struck up conversation the previous night. He
belted Adele with the voice of an angel.
They
saw me and made motions to pack up, but I insisted they stay, since I
wanted to listen. A coffee can stood on the bricks in front of them,
labeled "candy fund" or the like. At one point the worker at Cabot's
came outside and handed Ellis the cordless phone. "It's your mother,"
he said. She was worried sick since they weren't answering their cell
phones. That just killed me.
Before they
left, Ellis struck up a conversation with a group of green-haired,
heavily-pierced teenagers who did NOT look like they were up for a
chat. "Are you from Woodstock????" he prodded them. They were. One of
them indulged his questions, and in the final eureka moment Ellis
proclaimed, "YOU KNOW MY BABYSITTER!!!!!" I hope these guys keep it up.
5. I talked to the Carnival Parade
Coordinator. I know that's who he is because his business card said
it. He explained that he's making a short film and he needs an accordion player to play an English military march, I think, along with which he would play the trumpet. The final was going to play at the 2014 Provincetown Film Festival. Unfortunately I had to turn it down because I had no free time to learn it, but that's pretty cool.
6. A guy asked for a sad song, so I
gave him some choices, including the theme from Downton Abbey, which
he chose. I told him about our crying joke at the Really Big Show (a week after the Season 3 Finale I played at a variety show in Northampton. I started playing the theme and Flaca started crying, complete with a hanky, as did the orchestra, MC and myself), so he
took it upon himself to “cry” while I played it. Well done, sir.
7. Some folks took my picture to send
to their friend who is currently at Accordion Camp in Oregon! Now
that is definitely something I need to research.
8. Speaking of camp, I talked to this
great 13-year-old named Ry who I had met two years ago. We talked
about her plans for the summer, and she will be attending “Girls
Rock” camp in Washington where pre-teen/teen girls gather, learn a
Rock 'n' Roll instrument, and cover a song all within a week. This
year Ry was to do bass. I think I need to work there.
9. I shamelessly visually stereotype people to
choose songs. I play certain genres of songs if the people walking
by are senior citizens, baby boomers, teens, big groups of young gay
men, children, etc. But now I have a new one: nerds. Not that all
people who watch Game of Thrones are nerds, but now that I have that
theme song in my repertoire the people who respond to it seem to be
pretty nerdy. So I'm going to take advantage of that!
10. A
bitchy lady stopped by, saw Flaca, and demanded that I “make her move.” I
tried to think of something clever to say, and just uttered, “She
moves when she wants to!” The lady responded, “If she wants a tip
she'll move.” I really should have given her a biting comeback and
not let Flaca budge. My pride is more important than a tip! But I
started a song, and the lady demanded “Move her arms!” Ugh.
11. I was a little perturbed after that,
but assumed I was overreacting. But right after she departed,
another woman who was at the scene said, “It was nice of you to put
up with that lady's rudeness. You're very gracious.” How nice of
that woman to say that. Drama on the streets!
12. “Do you speak Russian? Because
the harmonium is a Russian instrument!”
12.5. A presumably straight man walked by
wearing a t-shirt that said, “I Only Date Cubs Fans” with the Chicago Cubs logo. Only the font
was small, to fit all that, and it could easily be read as, “I Only
Date Cubs,” which is a perfect shirt to wear during Bear Week. I
bet he had no idea!
13. This one's come up before,
but a woman asked, “Did you make it?” I never know how to answer this, because there are so many "its" in my act. Dress? Box? Flaca? My PB&J?
14. A man “recognized” Twin Peaks
and we talked about our fandom. Finally, he said, “I haven't
played it in a while.” Like, played the DVD? The theme song? “Are you a
musician too...?” “No!” Turns out he thought it was the music
from Final Fantasy. Aha. Does that have a good theme song I should learn?
15. I like to play "Laura's Theme" from Twin Peaks in addition to the
theme, even though people recognize it less often. It's just so
beautiful, and always gives me a chill when it gets to the climax of the
song. At one point over the summer I realized I looked at the moon
whenever I got to that part. So I did this intentionally from them on,
playing it periodically and seeking the moon. I started to notice its
trajectory across the sky. One day I was uneasy because I couldn't find
the moon. It turns out it was just too early and it was too low. Once
it was up, I found myself to play way better. Huh, maybe I'm a
Werebusker and can only play when the moon is out. But I remembered
that would have to be a full moon, so my "werebusker" theory is flawed.
I will still maintain this link between the moon and Laura's Theme.
16. An old woman with either a foreign
accent or just a cute old lady accent said, “I thoroughly enjoyed
your little stepping.”
17. My life's goal was achieved: I was
photographed for Provincetown Magazine! (In a Bear Week spread,
since I was wearing bear ears). I don't know if I made the final
publication, but I'm on the internet so that's a start.
18. I made a new friend named Ben this summer who
makes jewelry and likes to listen to live music while he crafts. A
few times, he has sat on the steps behind me to do just that. He's a
non-native Spanish speaker too, and we've had a few good Spanish-speaking
sessions!
One day, New Friend Ben was sitting behind me when
two drunkish young people came by us in enormous balloon hats. They
asked us which of them looked more like an idiot. Ben said the girl did, I said the guy did. But
then the guy said, “Well that's a silly mustache!” to Ben, even
though he had just defended his hat. Ouch. The girlfriend said,
“That's just mean” and the boyfriend tried backpedaling, unsuccessfully. Awkward.
19. This is a really nice one. An
older couple I know from Wellfleet stopped to listen, and asked if I
would sing a song. There is indeed one song I arranged a strict
accompaniment for, leaving the melody up to vocals, but I had never actually performed it. That song
is “That Lucky Old Sun.” I played it and sang it for a small
crowd. Eek! I looked up and noticed one older woman in front of me
singing along. Then another. This warmed my heart so much, since I
was nervous. We got through it, and the mother of some small
children said I should go sing at Disneyworld, be a princess. Well
that's a compliment.
20. A guy asked me to play Britney
Spears, so I sort of played “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” I kept
finishing a chorus and pausing, and the guy said, “Don't stop!”
so I just looped the basic melody a bunch of times. Finally he let
me stop and asked, “What do you know about chicken?” Like, where to get him. Not much!
21. An old man said, “We're going to
get ice cream; mind if I take four bucks?” Haha. YES I MIND THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
22. I needed a bathroom break, and
started the process of looking out for someone I know to guard my
stuff. Lo and behold, who should walk by but Matt, a.k.a. Lady
Kielbasia, the drag queen accordion player I've gotten to know over the years. We chatted a bit, and I asked if he was performing. He
explained that he was just here to vacation, but he brought his
stuff just in case. His dress, his wig, his eyelashes....everything
but his accordion. D'oh! So I handed him mine so he could play and
I could use the bathroom. It was small, so he forwent the straps and
instead we bungeed him in with my trolley bungees. Awesome.
23. A woman asked about my loans sign,
and revealed that she, too, majored in Psychology. “I can get any
minimum wage job I want!” Ha, exactly.
24. THE
ICE CREAM FIASCO! A dad and little girl walked by, and the kid licked
her ice cream right off the cone. Everyone in the vicinity reacted to
this, and then the pair walked away, leaving the ice cream there, in the
middle of the sidewalk. This was a huge distraction! I took it upon
myself to warn passersby of the impending danger, so I gave very little
of my attention to my act. Also, as the ball melted it headed in the
direction of my setup, so it was a battle against the clock. Finally
someone brought over a milk crate and placed it over the mess so people
would dodge it and I didn't have to look at it. Problem solved.
25. “Is that an accordion or a
castanet?” Well....an accordion. Must have meant concertina.
26. In addition to worrying that
eventually Ross from Cabot's Candy is going to get sick of me, I wonder how the people
who live above the shop feel. I see them going in and out, but
haven't really talked to them. Finally, a nice woman came downstairs
and thanked me for being there. She said my music reminds her of
Italy. She's lived in that apartment for two years so she's heard a
lot of buskers. I asked her if she gets any peace and quiet, and she
said she doesn't but she wanted to live “in the city.” I oddly
agree with her, that Commercial Street feels like the city.
27. Only in Ptown do you see.......homosexuals
in yarmulkes playing Set.
28. An older man asked, “Guess which
Hollywood star played the accordion?” I couldn't, so he told me:
Fred Astaire. I was not aware of that. He told me some other stuff
about Fred and Adele. I guess I need to watch their movies!
29. Some
adorable kids stopped by and we talked about their vacation. They raved about how their hotel has both a pool and a beach.
The girl said she was a little scared to use the pool, though, because
"last time I was in a pool....I drownded." She looks pretty healthy then!
We said long goodbyes, and the littlest boy confessed, "I'm going to miss you so much." Awwwww.
30. I saw the cutest child of all time.
That's a fact, and I'm only mentioning so I might remember his
perfect little face. He was probably pushing two, I think part of a Quebecois
family, wearing a navy blue sweater and shorts. He should have been
my puppet, not Flaca, with his smile and big eyes and dance moves. My heart completely melted.
31. In Ptown you see people who treat their dogs as kids.
Little dogs riding in strollers, etc. One family demonstrated a
dynamic identical to what I see families do with human children: one dad
held the “baby” dog in a snuggly, and the other dad stopped the
"first-born" dog and pointed out my act, letting the dog listen.
32. The Game of Thrones theme was a big hit this summer! I
got a thumbs up from the girl working at the Penny Patch across the
street, and one guy came over and said, “Hodor!” Hodor? Hodor!
33. A little boy biked by with a well-done scary face-paint job. So on his return trip I made a big deal about seeing him and being super scared, loudly gasping. I think he got it.
34. An articulate little boy told me
about how a camp counselor of his used to play raccordion (yes, with an R) too. I like that, raccordion.
35. A man asked what my plan is long-term, as people often do, so I told
him the truthful answer: I'm going to write my best-selling memoir on
being a traveling street performer, sell the rights for a movie, and
live off the royalties. But this guy surprised me by following up:
"Well are you actively writing?" "Yes," I lied. He said that I have to
write every day if I want to be a writer. And he should know, because
he's a New York Times bestselling author. Oh, snap! He wouldn't reveal
his name, because he reckoned I'd know him. Of course I was dying of
curiosity, but I suppose his anonymity drives the point it deeper. He's
totally right!
36. I played “Don't Let Me Be
Misunderstood” which I end sort of simply. A guy said, “That's
anticlimactic.” I told him, “Well the song ends that way.”
Turns out he meant my whole act. What more do you want me to do?
37. I walked into the candy store to
refill my water, and this random guy asked if I wanted to smoke a
bowl with him. I said no thanks. He was buying fudge, so I asked
if if that was for after. He just smiled and nodded. Someone's
having a fun night.
38. Someone suggested that I cover Weird Al. Weird Al does covers, so without vocals covering Weird Al would just be playing songs.
39. An older woman requested that I play "Midnight in Russia," citing the fact that I was getting boring so this song would spice things up. I later learned that this was Ross's mom, who's job in town is to heckle street performers. I got off easy, then!
40. I ran into a satisfying group of people: my grandmother's friends. Although my grandma is very modern and accepting, she doesn't completely condone my "begging" on the street. Therefore, I have no idea what she tells her friends that I do or how she describes the act, so I was pleased that they saw me and liked the act.
41. "Is that Rihanna?" "No, it's actually the theme from 'Downton Abbey.'"
42. "I know genius when I see it." Well thanks! Too bad I can't take full credit for my design.
43. I talked to an older guy who took accordion lessons as a kid. His teacher was named Leonard Swavatitsy. That is all. (Because the name is sort of funny.)
44. "Better than being atop a snowbank!" Aha, a Valley resident who saw me last Valentine's Day playing, well, atop a snowbank!
45. A man really wanted me to play "You Are My Sunshine" for his granddaughter over the phone. After some technical difficulties we succeeded in a voice mail. The man and his partner signed off the message with their grandpa names: Peppa and Buppa. Cute.
46. I had a bad experience with two
drunken Frenchmen. Luckily, as they stopped by, Zoe [Lewis] and Sharon
walked by as well and stuck around to help me. The guys waved a
$20-bill, and asked, "Do you want to have some fun?" Finally we cleared
it up that all I would do for them was play music (Sharon pointed them
in the direction of the Boatslip if it was fun they were after), so they
put a few singles in the box and I played a song.
I
forget the exact order of events, but at one point they reached down
and tried to take their money back, which I did not allow, since who
knows how much they put in and how much they were taking out, among
other reasons. At some point they commenced the kissing part of the
evening, trying to give the three of us a bisou or two. Zoe and Sharon
thankfully nipped that in the bud. And so they began discussing Flaca's
dark skin, accusing me of never having been to Mexico as I claimed (where I got Flaca), and
finally ended their performance by dropping the N-word to describe my
poor innocent marionette. Classy.
47. At one point over the summer I realized I was telling time using the North Truro shuttle, which leaves every half-hour and drives right by me. Cool!
48. I talked a bunch to a super cool family who LOVE Wallace and Gromit. We talked all about Feathers McGraw. They also told me about two puppet theaters in New York that I'd like to check out: Puppetworks in Brooklyn and the Swedish Cottage. Anyone know them?
49. Someone identified the accordion to someone else by saying "thing that goes like this" and doing the necessary arm motions. Universal symbol, man.
50. This old guy thought I was smoking a joint, and called me on it (not sure what he saw). Stereotyping his age I played "Fly Me to the Moon" for him, and he danced. So I did all the classics..."All of Me," "Lady of Spain," etc. I avoided my pop songs. But then, just for kicks, I started Shakira feat. Wyclef Jean's "Hips Don't Lie" and he LOVED IT! Busted a groove. Hey, so much for stereotypes.
51. A character from a past summer showed up again: opera singer Nathan
Resika. I had met him two years ago during Bear Week while I was
playing, and he stayed and sang a few numbers with me. Read about that here, story #8.
He had read my blog post about him because his agent had googled him
and found it. I guess I got his age totally wrong! Oops! Anyway, it
was great seeing him again, and to everyone's delight we reprised our
joint performance from the earlier summer. I'm not kidding about "to
everyone's delight"...the entire staff of BOTH candy stores came
outside, the cops that usually ignore me smiled, and a nice crowd
formed. His voice is way above the caliber of most street performers in
town. I ought to rehearse my accompaniments in the right keys for
these moments when they come along! See you next summer, maybe, Nathan.
52. Remember way, way at the top when I mentioned the play I saw with Jaia, "Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche?" Well they walked by in the fall! I later learned that they were back in town to reprise their show during Women's Week. I wanted to acknowledge them so I yelled, "Hey five lesbians!!!!" but it didn't catch their attention. Of course, five other people turned around. (That's not true, but it is Provincetown.)
53. Some guys requested Downton Abbey, so I played it. Then they requested Game of Thrones, so I played it. I made some reference to my assumption that they had heard me play these before, but it turns out they just blindly requested them and got lucky that I happen to play both. Cool!
54. I met a nice couple from Philadelphia. It turns out the man is an
accordion player as well. Not only that, he is the current owner of
MYRON FLORIN'S ACCORDION! For those of you who don't know, Myron Florin
was the accordion player on the Lawrence Welk show. So that's a really
big deal. They invited me to come by and play that accordion when I
come to Philadelphia.
The Flaca Section:
I got a lot of comments about Flaca, some of which had to do with her race. This section is all the Flaca comments.
1.
"I'm disappointed, I thought she worked by magic."
2. Someone suggested I have Flaca do a strip tease and press a button to make her dress fall off. Hey, I'm sure I'd win Showgirls if I did that.
3. Some folks asked
about the acquisition/evolution of Flaca, and I thought of a new response for such questions: "Well she tried being a living statue but she was
too fidgety." Well played, Sophie.
4.
A woman said, “You're really good!” I said, “Thank you,” and
she said, “ I wasn't talking to you.” She bent down to shower
Flaca with attention. Nice.
5.
On that note, Flaca's
the star of the show, but of course I still identify more as an
accordionist. So it warmed my heart when a little boy looked at Flaca
but then said, “Check THAT out!” and pointed at the accordion
itself. Yeahh!! Suck on that, Flaca!
6.
A grown man went to put a dollar in the box but hesitated. He balked
a few times, and asked, fearfully, “Is she going to touch me?” I
sort of think he was serious!
7. A
guy stopped and asked about Flaca's dance moves. When I
explained that she only has one move, the guy said, “It's one more
than I've got.”
8. I met a man early in the summer who took some photos. When he emailed them, he asked when I was going to get a Caucasian puppet. Eee!
9. I thought of another good comeback when someone asked why I have a black puppet. I told him, "Well I used to have a white puppet but she couldn't dance very well!" Yeah!!!
In conclusion, this summer was different. I had an all-business approach to it, so there was very little lingering in town compared to most years. The downside of having little competition for my spot was that I rarely had to kill time in town waiting, so I didn't experience town as much. It seemed like a low-key year in general, though, with fewer drunken packs singing along with my pop songs, and fewer bachelor/ette parties. I don't think I played "Here Comes the Bride" once. Of course, in Provincetown weddings there is never one bride.
If I do go back to the Cape, I would love to live in Provincetown. To ride my bike into town, experience the town free from the constraints of my piano dress, and properly rehearse for Zoe's speakeasies. I could go home after busking and leave my gear, then go back into town and have a proper social life. It would be more expensive to live, but I think it would be worth it.
Even if I don't go back, Provincetown has given me three incredible summers, and has taught me so much about being a busker. Till next time.
(New
songs this summer: "Ruby Tuesday," "Out of Time," "Don't Let Me Be
Misunderstood," "All Day and All of the Night" and "I Got You Babe,"
neither of which really worked out, "Game of Thrones," and "Stayin'
Alive.")
