Headaches

Played on Monday! I was really surprised I was up for it, since I had gotten up for work at 6:00 that morning. Phew. I just felt like I hadn't been in a really long time, and it was a gorgeous day, so I went. I wore my red and white polka dot dress, which always gets me compliments, and set up at the Pig. I really have to get my trailer done, since I parked super far away.

Not a ton of crazy stuff happened, but then again I didn't stay very long. But here's what happened!

Monday, June 20th, 2011:
When I set up, there was an older couple sitting on the benches. I already had a small crowd: a table inside the Pig waiting for me to play and a family nearby watching in addition to the older folks. I usually start with "Vals de Libunca," the Milladoiro song that I learned first and that my dad loves, but with this many ears on me I wanted to do something recognizable. I played what is probably the Ace song in my repertoire: Beyond the Sea. These older, recognizable songs went over very well ("Fly Me To the Moon" and "La Vie en Rose") being the others. It was just one of those days.

1. I might as well go right into the big drama of the day: the owner of the Patio restaurant. He gave me trouble last year, and has not backed off this year, it seems. He came over and offered to pay me to leave. Hm, maybe I should have considered that. He said that my music was "headachy" and it was distracting his staff. Unfortunately, he knows the rule that buskers can't be heard more than 50 feet. We're exactly 50 feet apart. If it got to the point that he called the police on me, technically he'd win. Ugh. He also complained about my playing the same song over and over. Ha, he's wrong about that. I told him that too: last summer I did in fact loop the Lady Gaga medley over and over, and his first complaint involved that repetition. Since that, I've been careful to not repeat songs for as long as possible for the sake of storeowners/other workers nearby. Anyway, I told him that if he sent someone down to Town Hall to check if there was anyone there, I'd move. He actually did, and two of his employees came to deliver that news. They were super nice about it, and one confessed feeling uncomfortable having to be involved in it. They were surprised when I told them that Patio customers often complimented my playing, and said that they would tell the boss that. They are Ian and Arturo (the latter from Lithuania), and they were super nice. Once I moved they came to talk to me more and apologize. Perhaps they'll be characters in my story this year. The whole thing is really a pain in the ass, since that spot is so good. I really don't want to deal with him all summer. Maybe next time I'll go talk to him and tell him nicely that his customers, staff, and neighboring businesses all like it, so maybe we could come to a compromise. Maybe he'll decide to leave the restaurant business! The irony is that he seems to be German or something: a culture rich with accordion. C'est la vie.

2. As you know, I did move. There are two spots at Town Hall: the big one right in front with ample visibility and audience, and the one on the corner that's a little more private and secluded (Cady's corner). I prefer the less public one, since I'm not yet an expert at my instrument. However, both were open today and I decided to go big or go home (specifically, go big). I set up at the big spot next to Ellie's memorial, where tons of people sat on benches. This meant I had to play well. I use my busking time to try out new songs and practice ones that aren't solid yet, but here people weren't listening to every note. I tried a few weaker songs, bombed, and tried to seamlessly transition into songs I can do in my sleep.

3. Three women were among the crowd on the benches, and Diane came to talk to me. She said she busked when she was younger, and recently picked up the Harmonium. She might try out busking again! One of her friends was Lois, who suffers from Alzheimer's but loves to hear music and sing. Diane danced to all my songs, and lead those around me in rounds of applause. She hooted through both the Beer Barrel Polka and Dynamite. When I packed up I showed her Flaca, whom she gave a spin.

4. A not really mentioned character in my Provincetown story: the tour bus driver. This dumpy middle-aged woman drives the quaint tour bus through provincetown and explains the sights via loudspeaker. I love when she drives by, because I play and smile and her passengers wave and take pictures. She parked the bus in front of Town Hall right as I was playing the Wallace and Gromit theme song. A while later, she waddled over and said "Anyone who takes the time to learn Wallace and Gromit deserves a tip." Thanks! I hope to get to know her more.

5. There's a new henna guy this year! Last year, a young, fit, foreigner was employed strolling the streets of Ptown covered in henna to advertise henna tattoos at the West End Salon. He was usually orange and animal-print. There's a new guy this year, and he's been more purple. I hope to get to know him too!

6. I saw Butch! I'm going to write about Butch when I finally write about last summer, as he is a very important character. Great to see him.

7. A young French guy was excited about Buddy Holly! I was playing Dynamite and was pleased that I saw some young folks approaching, since they usually love it. This group didn't react, but the next song was "Heartbeat." One guy ran back with a big smile and gave me money. Love when listeners surprise me.

8. I finally officially met the man who has been known as "funny hair guy with the cool bike." He is GEORGE THE QUAKER! He was among the crowd sitting on the benches, and he commented on songs as well as Diane. He LOVED Dynamite, which surprised me. When I talked to the group after, he told me about a project he has in mind (Flaca brought it up). He is going to make seagull puppets and set up a puppet show next to the recycling bin in front of Town Hall. The seagulls will discuss recycling and taunt tourists. They're hoping to increase recycling through this initiative. He estimated that it would bring in $800 a day, half of which would be donated to something (I forget what). Great idea. However, no busker is going to let him stay out for as long as it'll take to make $800. George also talked to me about the media activism movement and how easy it is to spread a message or know what's going on through cell phones, cameras, the internet, etc. Cool!

One last thing, before I run off to work:
I realized on Monday that what I am doing is no longer about the money. I don't even look in the box while I'm playing to assess my earnings anymore, nor do I count right away. The only reason I count is because I have to take the money out before playing again, so I might as well see how I did. My goal with this is the story I can tell. I judge the success of each outing not by the money earned, but by the funny comments I get, characters I meet, and crazy stories gained. I'd rather make a little money but have a long post than make a lot of money but not having anything to share about that day. That said, I still have to "play back student loans!"

Okay time for work. Then tomorrow's the big bike trailer building day!

Terrible Student

I was just thinking that I'm my own worst music student. I say I'm self-taught, but I'm not really teaching myself. If I were to be studying with someone other than myself I would have set days to have lessons, practice daily if possible, and be ashamed if I hadn't mastered the previous week's lesson by the following lesson.

That said, I need to step it up! I need to organize my "to-learn" list and actually spend time building my skills. My work schedule's too crazy to pick a day now, but once it's set I'm going to declare "Accordion Lesson" time. Preferably on Wednesday afternoons, because that's when piano lessons were in high school. Starting now, I WILL pick up my accordion every day, and have at least one new song every time I head to Ptown to perform! Or else I don't get a sticker.

Tiens, bonjour! Ça va?

I should be sleeping, not blogging. Misty is snoring next to me and I'm simply beat (completed a triathlon today of biking, swimming, and accordion playing), but I'm going away for the weekend so if I don't write now I'll forget everything that happened tonight, and it was a great night.

It was also an emotional night, at least during my drive home. I get in this weird reflective mood sometimes after playing when I get stuck in a bubble of confusion and don't know if I should cry or eat a sandwich. Anyway, I was stringing words together on my drive that I thought described that bubble well that I intended for the blog, but now I'm too tired to compose. This will just be a quick recap of tonight.

Friday, June 10th, 2011
I got to town early tonight, around 4:30. I'm not sure why I did, because I planned to play from 6:00-9:00. I didn't want to start right away and get burnt out before the evening crowd even strolled by. So often I play across from the Squealing Pig, but I had never set foot in it. I decided to go have a beer. I did my first sketches of the accordion bike trailer I will be building, and piped up when the bartender and the guy next to me were talking about dumb injuries to tell them about my rake incident.

It came time to play, and I wandered to Town Hall to see if those pitches were free. They were, but I chose to play across from the Pig after all. Town Hall just seems to public. I went back and ate my delicious goat cheese and avocado sandwich and a kiwi and played. On the walk back I had a deep thought about curbs. Curbs are my worst enemy, since my accordion is on wheels. I hate having to pull it off one, because when it doesn't land on it's feet I fear for the whiplash my instrument inside the box suffers. Also I sometimes hurt myself going up the curbs. I pretty much have the Ptown curbs memorized, and know exactly where the sidewalk dips down and where it doesn't. Despite leaving, my brain hung onto the synapses that kept track of that. Few people pay attention to curbs, and I contemplated the connection I have to those in wheelchairs or strollers or who pull things like I do who also get to know the sidewalks. This deep thought about curbs was finalized by imagining a really boring poster: Curbs of Provincetown, on sale next to "Doors of Santa Fe" or something. It would show where there's extra pavement right where buses turn onto the pier that's easy to descend, for example, especially because the area next to it has no dips in the curb! I would totes buy that poster.

I found myself getting annoyed with daylight. I looove playing after dark, It feels more mysterious, that my sound is coming out of nothingness, and it's just generally romantic! In SF I'd go out at this time and it would be dark. I forgot that darkness is way later this time of year. Ah, well.

Anyway, here's what happened:
1. I ran into a ton of people! First was Alec Nelson of Leverett and his wife. Nice to see him! Second was a classmate of mine from Clark U., and thirdly was a mother and daughter who I know from my parents' rec softball days. The daughter is in college now and has a summer internship in Ptown. Excellent.

2. Beer Barrel Polka was super popular. I played it four times! I don't usually play it anymore unless it's requested. And old couple asked for it. Then this drunk guy at the Pig (who kept coming over) asked for a polka, and chose it over Pennsylvania. Then this other pair asked if I could play Rosamunda, which I had forgotten is the same thing. Lastly, Flaca danced to it. We'll talk about that later. I messed up the ending! I can't let myself go too long without playing the staples or I'll forget them!

3. Ah yes, the drunk guy kept coming back. He was fine. I asked him to bring my water bottle to the bar with him for a refilling. He said he'd bring it back full of vodka and seven up. Unsurprisingly, that was not allowed, which didn't bother me. I drink so much water when I play! I like to take quick breaks between songs to give my arms a break, but I don't like to just stand there, so I usually drink water in those times whether I want it or not. These are my most hydrated nights!

4. I ran into a family from Wellfleet who stopped to listen. There were three little girls, and they all told me what instruments they play. We talked about Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber, but they settled for Lady Gaga songs since they're all I know.

5. I got to practice my French! I started learning French literally last night. All I can say really is "je parle trés bien français" which isn't technically true. Some wonderful French folks came by, and I was able to use this phrase. Mid-conversation some French-Canadians joined and started speaking French. I played La Vie En Rose quietly in the background while they discussed something in French. This couple asked for "La Mar," which Americans know as "Beyond the Sea," which happens to be [the best song] in my repertoire. I played it, and they sang in French. If only May had witnessed that!

6. I learned Madonna's "Like a Prayer" last year but rarely play it. I played all my B-string songs tonight because I was worried that the hostess outside of the Pig was getting sick of my songs and I wanted to mix it up. Turns out, folks love Madonna. I've got to bump that one up on the set list.

7. That spot also happens to be a taxi stand. A van taxi pulled up and parked. This was annoying because I could no longer look in at the big TV screen in the Pig and watch the Bruins game to assess whether or not I should play the Canadian national anthem. But the driver got out and chilled for a bit. He requested Michael Jackson's "Bad." Then Hey Jude, which actually sort of worked. He sang. I have to remember to learn it.

8. I was aware of a man waiting outside his car to talk to me. Sure enough, after a song he came by and introduced himself as John Roberts (?), the man who wrote the Provincetown Busking Bylaws 15 years ago. My first thought was that I was in trouble, breaking a rule or something. But that was not the case. He's running a world fest thing and wants musical acts to play international songs. Can do!

9. Betty, Ptown's violin player, came by and said she reads my blog! I'm super flattered. Thanks, Betty! :)

10. A couple came up right as I began to play "Funiculi Funicula" for the first time in public. The man said "Oh no." As the end neared, he prepared aloud for the big finish, which disappointed all in earshot. Not quite ready yet! He said he played the accordion for nine years. That couple came back again later and asked what I went to school for. The woman laughed when I said "Psychology." That's actually the response I go for, recognizing the irony of doing what I'm doing despite having an expensive degree in a notable field. The man asked if I have a bigger accordion, and I told him I didn't but I'm starting to look for one. I'm not getting the timing right, but he asked, "So will you have to get a Master's for that?" And it sounded like he was making a genuinely good joke about upgrading to a 48-bass. Turns out he meant Psychology. Boooo. Gypsies don't need Masters' degrees.

11. People are responding well to my student loan sign in general! One woman gave me a ten dollar bill, saying that she's 44 grand in debt right now. Eek! Others confirmed that they, too, are paying back student loans. That sign was a great idea of Tim Finn's, host dad in San Francisco. I owe him big time.

12. The girl holding menus outside the Pig was super nice. She recognized "Lies" from Once (The Swell Season) and said she sings that song. I meant to talk to her after about singing and see if she wants to start a new trio/quartet with me, but then I didn't. I'll get her next time.

13. I want to purchase more arrangements. My best songs (Beyond the Sea, Fly Me To the Moon) came from online sheet music databases, and I paid for them. Paying sucks, but good arrangments rule. I try to use movement and chord things from these arrangements in my own, but it's hard.

14. Kyle, mentioned in the previous post, came by in a top hat with his ukelele. We tried playing together, but I drowned him out. He turned over the instrument and banged on it as percussion instead. Awesome. Then I gave him Flaca, the Mexican marionette who lives in my box (not sure if I've introduced her) and he made her dance on his hat and play her cymbals. It was really great. He's sort of a natural circus ringmaster, and he gave this radio-voice introduction all in Spanish that was really awesome ("Damas y caballeros, esta noche tenemos aqui Flaca! Baila, Flaca, baila!") except way more awesome. I tried to improvise the Mexican Hat Dance, and the combo certainly got people's attention. It turns out Kyle spent the winter in the Valley, so he knows all about the music/busking scene there.

That's all I can think of! I need some new songs! I'm super sick of my repertoire!

Oh wait, one more thing:
15. A couple said "Do you live in Wellfleet?" "Yes." "We met you last summer on the beach." On the Fourth of July I wandered around Mayo Beach in Wellfleet playing accordion while knee deep in the bay. I remembered having talked to super nice people, but didn't really see their faces. It was them! So cool.

Okay I think that's it. Au revoir, a tout a l'heure!

Grand Return to Provincetown

Last Friday, my squeezebox and I jumped in the car and headed to Ptown for our long-awaited (by us, at least) return.

We went first to the Police station to get our new permit. I remembered it taking longer last year, but I just had to show them my driver's license. We found a parking space way down the East End on Bradford St. and spent a long time parallel parking.

We walked down Commercial St. grinning (well I did, at least), and heard someone yell, "Back from San Francisco?" It was Dana, referenced in a SF post, a guy who a busker in the Castro sent out to scout a spot. This scenario annoyed me, and we got in each other's hair. I had forgotten that we made the Cape connection later in the winter (he lives in Truro), and he happened to be out and about when I was. It was nice to see a familiar face!

Speaking of familiar faces, I'll talk about that first. I obviously saw a bunch of people I knew. Not May or Butch, who you don't know about since I didn't blog last summer, but some other folks:

1. Topher, my accordion student and friend. He biked by on his shiny gold and purple bike and recorded my playing my newest Amelie song on his iphone for Francois, his Parisian bf. It was so lovely to see him. We'll resume lessons soon, and also work together to learn French. And bike and swim and be best friends and have adventures under the name "Soph and Toph."

2. Kyle. Kyle runs a variety show on Thursday nights at a local bar. I wasn't a regular due to my past transportational issues, but I performed once and it seemed like a really cool scene. He was wearing a royal blue button down shirt with red suspenders and driving a cab. He said that this year he'll be organizing a circus with themed acts. Hope to hear from him soon!

3. Will. Will is the sweet now-15-year-old boy who took up busking last summer. I saw him his first time, and we started talking. He plays guitar and sings and plays keyboard sometimes, too. We rode the same bus sometimes. I took him under my wing, and he gave me a beautiful little toy accordion last summer which I displayed in my case. He was out playing a little but mostly gallivanting, with local teens, and he gave me a nice big hug.

4. The guy on the bike with the funny hair. I know this doesn't narrow it down very much in Ptown, but there's this one guy I would see all the time. He never acknowledged me last year, but on Friday he biked by and yelled "Hi Soph!" Score.

5. Aimee, aka the Bearded Lady. She runs a piercing parlor in Ptown and used to run one in Northampton as well. She strolled by with her bull terrier, Joy, and casually said "Hi Soph." There was no "welcome back!" or "how was your winter?" which I kind of liked. It's as if November-May don't exist in Ptown. "Hi Soph." I said "Hi Aimee." She corrected me: "Ah-mee." Guess that's new this year.

6. It's fun seeing who's back! I recognized some of the Pedi-Cab drivers, but they were definitely using their B-string pedalers (like this out of shape middle-aged woman huffing and puffing her passengers around, in stark contrast to the tan, buff Bulgarian men who usually do that job).

I was the only busker out at first. Later on Will came out, then this lady with a guitar and too much amplification, but at first it was just me. I set up across from the Squealing Pig, my fave spot. It wasn't until Boston and the Elf life that I realized my setup can be independent of a sturdy object. Last summer I leaned my open box against a bench, or fire hydrant, or something, and tossed the wheels aside. Now, I just lean it against the wheels, which are actually necessary to hold my student loan sign. This gives me more flexibility, and I can trip people less (or more, if I choose).

Here's what happened!
1. A woman biked by and just said, "You're tall!"

2. There was some kind of conference or something happened, with a lot of people walking around with nametags. I overheard a snippet of a conversation between two women: "Network and socialize. If someone says hi to you, you say hi back." It's really the only way to get anywhere in Ptown.

3. I had my first attentive child, who requested the Itsy Bitsy Spider. An older guy (I think it was funny-hair-bike-guy, actually) suggested I play "Alouette" next. I was about to, when he pointed out that it's the same tune. Huh, I hadn't noticed that one. I told him about kids requesting multiple of "ABC," "Twinkle twinkle" and "Baa baa black sheep" despite them having the same tune. The kid asked for Baa Baa Black Sheep to prove my case.

4. "Dynamite" went over very well! Pop songs really do well in Ptown, and I simply must add more to my repertoire. People were singing and dancing along, and looking puzzled then celebrating when they figured out what song it was. Gaga too, but that's old news. (Old gnus)

5. Perhaps the best Ptown story yet: a man, who I later identified as gay and drunk, commented that he couldn't tell where the piano ended and my skirt began (I wore a black and white striped skirt). He asked for a song, and I asked if he wanted Johnny Cash. He said "I love her!" with an unmistakably gay inflection. Maybe Johnny Cash would get a kick out that. After I played, he made a comment about his own "ring of fire." Shoulda seen that coming. It was a great reminder of playing in Ptown! The Castro really doesn't compare.

6. A woman asked me for a tango. I asked if she new "El Dia Que Me Quiras," a tango I just discovered through the cover by the Baguette Quartette. She said she might know it if I played it. I told her I couldn't yet (I've been meaning to learn it!) I said the closest I had in my repertoire to a tango was "Hernando's Hideaway," which she accepted. What tangos can I learn easily, do you think, dear readers? (Plural's ambitious)

7. A man with purple pants asked me if I could play "Lady [of] Spain." I told him of course I could. He said that was surprising, given my age. "It used to be that all accordion players had to learn that song!" "And it is still that way," I told him, "because if you're seen with an accordion, people will ask for that song so many times that you finally give in and learn it." I need to practice, though; I took it out of the starting rotation due to the cliche and now it's rusty.

8. Some foreigners gave me a ten dollar bill and couldn't help but wonder if they hadn't mastered US dollar conversion yet. They didn't even smile or anything. I'll take it! Similarly, I've become a tip snob. My dad loves telling the story of how when we were in Italy in ought one and an accordion player came up to our table at a restaurant. My dad put 100 lire in his hat. A hundred! It seemed so generous! We were similarly slow on the conversion, evidenced by the fact that we had given this man the equivalent of a nickel. Offended, he returned it to the table. We laugh about that story, but ten years later I can now side with him! I'm used to dollar bills. Handfuls of coins are great. Single coins are not so great. I have to really force myself to say thank you in those cases, and just hope that it's a cool foreign currency or an outdated metro token from a cool city or something worthwhile.

9. Hooligans. I guess this goes in the "people I saw" section. I moved to the town hall to play later on, which is the local hangout for hooligans, mostly teenagers (but some not). My interactions with them are usually just stepping aside mid-song so they can pass me to get back to the statue, or dramatically coughing when they light up cigarettes to teach them a lesson. A year later, and these hooligans have matured a bit. Two teenage boys independently came up to me with compliments. The second said, "Keep it up. I mean it, okay?" in the encouraging voice I expect from middle-aged folks who wish they had done more with their twenties. It was a strange sentiment to get from a 15-year-old, but I loved it. He can already tell that I'm doing something worth doing, and he won't let me quit even if he has to drag me there himself. I look forward to getting to know these kids more and keeping them off drugs and into music lessons and stuff.

10. And now....possibly the best comment I've ever gotten, from a primly dressed middle-aged-woman: "I feel obligated to chip in!"...[wait for it]..."Because I COLLECT student loans!" Hell yes. You'll be getting that dollar bill back before too long, lady. Good to know you're on my side!

Anyway, it was so so great to be back on my home turf! If Friday was that great, I can't even imagine how great it's going to be once folks are actually in town.

But I should mention, Cady, the statue lady, has retired from statuehood. I was sad to hear this news because she really was my inspiration and mentor, despite not knowing it, both last summer and as I followed her travels and planned my own during the winter. It will be nice to be able to use her spot sometimes, but Provincetown will really miss her.

Till next time! Friday again, most likely!
-S^3

Boston, May 2011

A couple of weekends ago I went to Boston. I met Liz for lunch, then had a few hours to kill before meeting someone else. Naturally, I brought my smokin' squeezebox and killed said time by returning to my elf roots and busking a bit. It was great! It was a gorgeous day, unlike any from my elf past, and people were leisurely strolling about. I set up in front of Borders at Downtown Crossing, one of my elf spots, and played for about an hour and a half.

I was wearing my red and white polka-dot dress which got as many if not more compliments than did my music. On this particular day, my biggest donors were moms. Possibly because it was graduation weekend at lots of colleges and my student loan sign gave their hearts a pang?

-A group of teenagers asked if they could take my photo. They did, then filled out a clipboard. Some sort of school thing/scavenger hunt? I wonder what category I filled. Homeless person, perhaps? They gave me a ton of coins and left. Then I started playing the popular song "Dynamite" by Taio Cruz, and they ran back to sing along.

-A man walked by and just said, "That works."

-Matthew asked me out:
"So what do you do when you're not playing accordion?"
"I'm always playing accordion!"
"Do you ever see movies, eat food, or hang out?"
"Yeah, but I'm usually in California." -->Uh-oh, lying!
"Oh if you lived here I was going to ask you out."
"Aw, sorry!"
"Oh well. The Sox will be sure to beat the Giants this year!"
[Caught in lie, through gritted teeth] "Just you wait!"

-A young guy walked by with a Brandeis VoiceMale sweatshirt. They're an a cappella group that sang with my group last year! I stopped him and told him that. Cool story, Hansel.

-I chatted with two middle aged men. One said he had an old accordion that he didn't even think he could sell because it's in bad shape. His friend suggested I might want it, which I confirmed. I gave him my card to email about it, but alas, like most of these transactions, I haven't heard back. But they said they vacation with their families in Wellfleet every year! Whoa!

-This spot is across the street from a site on the freedom trail tour, so there were tour groups coming through with Paul Revere-dressed tour guides. This always made me laugh, them trying to talk over my playing but still maintain their rapport.

-That's pretty much all there is to report! Why is "I Want You Back" sooo hard to learn?? It's been months now, and I still suck at it. Ah, well.

What Happened Since San Francisco

Answer: a lot.

Squeezebox and I went to Mexico! Not to play, so we won't write about the trip. However, I did start to play for Liz one Sunday morning int he hostel. We quickly heard a knock on the door, and it was an employee asking me to stop since there was a Quaker service going on. Quaker services are silent. Oops.

Then we went to North Carolina. We went on a ton of planes, and thus had a lot of comments on the box. Mexican security workers loved it. When I left Ashville (jumping ahead a little here), I got stopped at security. A man opened the box and said aloud, "Ah, just as I expected." Not sure if he meant the accordion or the Mexican doll that was hiding in the box, but everything got tested for drugs. Is there an accordion stereotype I don't know about?

Anyway, I played in Asheville! Pretty much once. It was a hot sunday, and I slathered up with sunscreen and headed into town.

I went first to Pritchard Park and saw a guy playing drums. I set up
across the intersection from him where we could still hear each other,
but it wasn't too bad. There was not much foot traffic and I made
very little money.

- One strange thing: a middle aged woman gave me money and said "At least you're honest!" regarding my student loan sign. This struck is as strange; it's not like a homeless person with an "I just want beer" sign that requires honesty. Who would conceal the fact that they're in debt?

-The drummer came over and introduced himself and exposed his pink Muppet baseball
hat. He suggested we play together, since he thought he must come
off as "the asshole who's drowning [me] out."

-I packed up then and went for a walk around town. There was a duo playing in Pack Square, violin and guitar and vocals. I sat on a bench and talked to them.
There were some other girls also there who asked about my box. We
talked a bit, and I ended up following them to Pack Park where they
lounged in the shade and I sat in the sun and read a little.

-I walked back into town and saw that the folks playing in Pack Square were packing up, so I took their spot. A young man walked by with a "Large Marge Sent Me" shirt that I loved.

-There were a couple of kids that paid me attention, but business was
slim. There was a little boy in a "Return of the Jedi" shirt so I
attempted the Star Wars theme song. It was not very good and he didn't even notice.

-I played Lady Gaga while some teenage girls passed. One of them ran back, but then just gave me a sugar packet. Thanksss

-In the greatest contribution yet, the girls I had followed to the park came back, and one put a folded paper in my box. I saw that it was a pencil sketch of me and my
accordion sitting in the park. Nice!

-A young hooligan came with a guitar and drum to sit on the bench and listen. He introduced himself as Dylan and insisted that he was in no hurry to play, but wanted to listen. He requested a Yann, so I played La Noyée. I gave him my card and proposed we play together before handing the spot over.

-I went to Pritchard Park to sit for a bit, maybe to play somewhere else. I was enjoying my snack bag when a man asked if he could sit with me. He introduced himself as Elvin, better known as E-man the Drummer. He said that everyone knows him and suggested I stick with him for safety's sake. He also suggested I take the
greyhound and plane tags off my accordion so folks couldn't see my name and wouldn't know that I just got to town. He also suggested that I don't smile very much. And that I don't accept pot from strangers because it could be laced. But if I need to hide pot I should put it in my shoe. I excused myself and went back to Pack Square to listen to Dylan play. He's really talented and has a great voice, and just makes up songs on the spot. He had a friend named Phoenix playing the drum.

-They invited me to join them, and I finally did. Mainly, Dylan played his songs and I followed the chords. We were joined by Adi, a saxophone player, who was really annoying. He insisted on singing despite having a saxophone and us clearly already having a singer, and made dumb suggestions. We attempted Stand by Me, My girl, Man of Constant Sorrow, Angel Band, and Take Me Home Country Roads. Dylan pulled out his copy of Rise Up Singing. Over the course of the evening the band grew to involve Phoenix on throat singing and didgeridoo, Brandon on melodica,
Andrew on guitar and another Andrew on harps, and Laura on vocals for Swing
Low, Sweet Chariot. It was fun but disorganized. Once the other folks came it was less about playing easy songs as a group but more about folks showing off.

-I went after this to a local bar that was having an Irish session night, hoping to participate, but it was lame and ending. It was there that I met my couchsurfing host for the night, Collin, and his roommate Ari. Ari is from Northampton! Collin introduced me to a game called "Pass the Pigs." You have these two litle rubber pigs that you roll, and you get points based on how they land. Excellent ice-breaker. Ari went to a concert and Collin and I went home.

Collin is a native North Carolinaite with a strong accent. He didn't
reveal what he does for work, but in his spare time he works in the
garden and does construction. He designed a nursing home wheelchair
accessible gardening table of which he had the prototype along with a
wheelchair in the house. He also built the loft that I slept in. The
loft is above the stairs, and it's hard to reach the light switch so
he rigged up a string pulley system to do just that. They live in an
old wooden house that a family used to inhabit. There's a nice
backyard with landscaped rock walls and a lily pond complete with
frogs and koi. There's also a cabin that Collin stays in. And a
chicken coop with three red chickens and a white one. They haven't
started laying yet so Collin was thinking of killing the white
chicken. The house came with two cats, Elvis and Burt, who are white
and orange. There was also a dog, Kai. We got there and immediately sat out in the wicker chairs facing the pond and petted the cats. Collin uses the word "Bop" for everything. "I'll just bop into town and pick you up;" "I'll bop you around the pantry;" "We'll just be boppin around the house all day" etc. Is that a southern thing?

I spent the next couple nights with Dylan and his roommate Eli, who ended up being 18. Eek! They were super nice and hospitable, and totally into music. Eli is a poispinner. I guess "poi" are these cubes on chains that you soak in gas then ignite, then spin around your body when they're on fire. Cool! I guess he goes to events and does that. He also has "crystal poi" that he practices with so he doesn't light himself on fire. They have LED lights inside them. He used them while Dylan and I played in town. Only in Asheville would people see them and ask, "Are those crystal poi??" He has long dreadlocks and looks a bit like Captain Jack Sparrow. Dylan is a young Bob Dylan. He actually looks kind of like him, and has the curly hair. He works at a Jamaican restaurant when he's not busking. He had recently come back from a tour around Colorado involving busking and couch surfing, so we had lots to talk about.

On Wednesday it was nice out again so we played together again in Pack Square. An old black saxophone player named Bobby Sanchez came up and said he wanted the spot when we were done. In the meantime, he sat and listened. It was actually infuriating, because he had so many compliments for Dylan, and none for me. He said it was "So cool what [Dylan] does with changes and improvisation." After one song that's in my repertoire that we did, where I mostly took the lead, Bobby complimented Dylan again and said that I was a good follower. Argh. Dylan tried telling him that it was my song, but he would hear none of it. When I left, Bobby said, "You'd better keep in touch with this one!" meaning Dylan. It's times like these when I'm reminded why I'm a solo act. But I did like playing with Dylan.

We walked around town after, looking for a new spot, and came across a bluegrass band playing. They were really good, and we stopped to listen. After they finished the song we arrived on, they began to pack up. I protested, and one explained, "But we're going clogging!" They proceeded to have a strange coversation:

Topher: I think we made enough to buy a mango lassi. Dan can stay, you can get lassis, and I'll get the truck.

Emmelyn: Okay, what flavor? [Topher answers.] But if we each made $4 we'll have too much for a lassi!

Dan: Where are you going?

Emmelyn: To get lassis.

Dan: What's a lassi?

[End scene. This made me giggle a little.]

The next day I left North Carolina. I was going to play in DC for a day, but decided not to.

Then I went home. I actually do have something to report from home!

TGWR
There's a really awesome band of former Clarkies called "The Great Whiskey Rebellion." They do mostly Irish stuff, with the occasional sea shanty and cover of "psycho killer." I saw them a couple times at Clark, and I was excited to see a facebook event invitation for a show they were doing in Northampton. I enthusiastically replied that I was coming. That evening, I got a call from Nick, the guitarist, who I knew through mutual friends but had never known that well. It turned out that Amy and Geo, the fiddle and bass players, were going to be late. Nick and Emma, the drummer were there, and needed someone to open. He knew that I was going to be coming and that I play the accordion, so he called Kristen and got my number. I jumped in the car and headed to The Basement bar, formerly Bishop's Lounge, in Hamp.

We played together the few songs I have with repetitive chord progressions: Elephant Gun (Beirut), La Noyee from Amelie, Ring of Fire, and the Godfather theme song. There wasn't really anyone there, just two older couples drinking wine. Finally some young people showed up: Duk, a friend from Clark and TGWR's biggest fan, and some of his friends. I played a bunch of songs (Queen, Gaga, Michael Jackson, and the standards) along with Emma. It was great playing with a drummer, since I can't keep my own beat to save my life. Amy and Geo arrived, and they took over, but they invited me to play one song with them! It was amazing actually being on stage with these guys, since they're pretty much celebrities to me. I couldn't hear myself that well so I had to really watch my right hand. It's so fun being part of that energy and blending with other instruments.

Now I know the band personally and I hope to see them play a lot and maybe even join in more.

I played a lot while I was home for a couple weeks, and came out with "La Vie en Rose," "La Donna e Mobile," and "Santa Lucia," an Italian favorite.

Now, we're back on the Cape. There aren't tourists yet, but we'll be staking out spots in Ptown pretty soon. Let the adventures continue!

Another weekend or two of playing

Per the usual schedule, I went out Friday night and Saturday morning to play. Friday night I was going to go back to the Castro, which I haven't played in for a while. I set out at 5:00, sure that it was early enough to get a good spot. It was not. All the good spots were taken, so I went to Valencia street. It was too early to start then, so I went to a favorite café and finished "Cat's Cradle."

Then I set up at 16th and Valencia and let the dinner-eaters, bar-goers-to, and random street-wanderers commence.

Friday
1. Two women walked by while I was playing Lady of Spain, perhaps the most famous of all accordion songs. One of them turned around and asked, "Was that 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game?'" I confirmed that it was not. She replied with something along the lines of "Oof, I guess the tequila's kicking in then!"

2. An older gentleman, who I quickly realized was a bit drunk, came up and kissed my hand and gave me some compliments. Over the course of our "conversation" he divulged that he's gay and 68. His name is Carl, and he's Italian. He wanted to dance, so I gave him my polkas and waltzes. He kept trying to stand right next to me, so I had to tell him that the stage was across the sidewalk, where I could see him.

3. On weekend nights mariachi bands stroll around playing for folks. I've seen them and waved and stuff, but this time a guitar and accordion duo came up to me. I spoke to them in Spanish, which felt oh so good. We compared accordions, and the accordion player revealed that he doesn't use his left hand. He does the right, and the guitar player takes are of chords so he doesn't have to. The two of them struck up a song, complete with vocal harmonies and everything. I joined in playing the left hand of mine. This is exactly what I want to have happen in Mexico, so it was good practice. Meanwhile, the 68-year-old was dancing, and introduced himself to the band as if he and I were somehow connected. A violinist from another mariachi band (different outfit) came up to say hello, and I noticed that he looked exactly like Esteban from Weeds. Eek! These are people who could be characters in my story, if I wasn't half-assing it. If I played right there all the time I'd see them all the time, and talk to them, and get to know them, and maybe play with them for real. I'd love to seek them out to say goodbye before I leave, but that would only be necessary if we had grown a musical relationship. Oh well.

4. The best yet: an older gentleman came up and said something. I asked, "What?" He said, "Play better." Good tip.

5. The problem with playing at this particular corner is that people want my money. Several people came up and asked if I could spare a dollar. I wasn't even making that much. That's urban busking, for ya.

The end.

Saturday
On Saturday I set up on 24th and Sanchez, my favorite Farmer's Market corner. It was pretty chilly out, but nonetheless a good day.

1. The parents of a little girl holding a stuffed monkey stopped to listen, and the kid didn't seem that into it. Then after I finished a song the monkey clapped. The monkey proceeded to put money in my box, and wave me goodbye. What a generous and polite monkey!

2. I play across the street from La Boulange café, and worry that they don't like me. Finally, an employee came over and said "I work at La Boulange." I braced myself to pack up and leave. "I really like listening to you on Saturday mornings! Here's a Chai." Score!

3. In line with the pleasure I feel when kids request songs other than basic kids songs, a little boy asked for "Buffalo Girls."

4. I won the "best sign award," from some lady!

Alas that was a long time ago, and I don't remember anything else. But after I played I went to the Farmer's Market because I had heard that there were two accordion babes playing. I missed their set, but I got to talk to them. They are both literal accordion babes from the calendar, one of which was Renee de la Prada, who calls herself "san francisco's main squeeze." Meeting her was much anticipated, because I knew all about her. I had googled "san francisco accordion" etc. to try to locate the photos and videos of myself that strangers had taken, to put on my page. I always found hundreds of her. I resented her a little for that, but didn't blame her, since she had obviously established herself as the accordion chick in the city. I put my slight grudge behind me when I met her, but was greeted with pure coldness. Perhaps she thinks there isn't room for another accordion babe in town. I asked what one has to do to make it into the calendar, and she pretty much scoffed at my interest in it. The other lady was really nice though, and we could talk shop a little.

Afterwards, I headed downtown to the Accordion Apocalypse store. It's only open Fridays and Saturdays, and I hadn't had a chance to go before. The shop is above a mechanic, and is a treasure trove of all things accordion. There's sheet music, parts, accordion accessories, and more accordions than I've ever seen in my life. I wanted a quote on a bellows repair, to buy new straps (real leather ones, since I've been using nylon ones that don't match my beautiful instrument), and to play a couple accordions to know what I want to look for when I buy an instrument with more buttons.

I got the same coldness from the owner from the shop. Maybe she guessed at my amateurness from my questions, and my 12 buttons maybe, and didn't take me seriously as a musician. This really bummed me out; I'm new to the accordion community but I didn't expect it to be a clique. Someone came in with more calendars to sell, and she chatted him up, telling him what month she was in it, which showed me that she was capable of smiling and smalltalk, just chose not to grant me any. These two interactions made me long for Provincetown, where accordion players are few and far between so there isn't any bullshit competition, rather camaraderie.

It was a successful trip, though, as I got a book and some straps. I played some accordions and confirmed that I do want some more buttons (minors, specifically, and an E and Eb would be nice). It was also cool to see the accordions she was working on, as I've never seen the inside.

Next Saturday

I didn't play the following week. Not sure why, maybe it was raining. Last Saturday I got an early start playing at the Farmer's Market, 9:00-11:00 instead of my usual 11:00-1:00, because I had babysitting lined up. It was nice to see the early crowd, more babies than kids. The best part was seeing my cousins Jim and Ethan (father and son) who live a ways South and were up for the day. My connections up here are all very new, so it was so nice to see people who have known me my entire life.

Since I didn't write down stuff that day, I have forgotten if anything memorable happened. The kids are always great, and I'm starting to recognize them. Carmelo and Zali came by, two kids I met my first day playing in Noe Valley. One woman took a babysitting flyer, which I had hidden in my box, and I had to tell her that I was leaving soon and she chose to leave it behind. Too bad. Wilma, my friend Marissa's mom came by.

I received further confirmation this time that "massholes" might be a real thing. Most people who walk by acknowledge me in some way, usually with a smile or nod if not a donation. Whenever I saw a Sox hat approaching, which is actually not infrequent, I planned to acknowledge it, probably with a simple "Go Sox!" Not a single one of the donners of these hats looked over to give me the chance to comment. Losers. Go Giants?

That's all I remember.

We'll play a couple more times before leaving, then it's time to hit the road!