It had to end sometime. There will be a big post coming soon about the Fringe, but until then just assume the greatest, most exciting month-long arts event ever. And then it ended and people scattered. Before we get into the standard Saturday post, here's a write-up of Tuesday:
Tuesday, 28 August 2012:
I went out last Tuesday, the first "normal" day for a couple hours. There were a few Fringe stragglers still out, Wojtek the Polish bass player and Thomas the Australian classical guitarist. The cathedral was statue central with both the levitating Yoda and levitating blue man and the Highlander. I was able to get my favorite pitch, and it was so nice to be playing there again. A few of the Fringe Street Events staff members went by in their normal clothes and waved. Nobody can stay away from the Mile! Unfortunately, though, I was asked to move by that one police officer who looks like Richard Dreyfuss. He is the only one who has moved me on, as he did once before. He remembered me and asked, "Haven't we discussed this before?" Oops. I said we had, but that time I had been closer to the Memorial, and now I was slightly farther down. He added that it was also because it was in front of the council offices. Yeah, yeah. I've been playing there for months without trouble. It's too bad, since if he catches me again I'll be in obvious violation. It'd be nice if I knew his work schedule. So I moved across the street outside the cathedral.
The blue levitater was taking a break, but left his whole setup intact so anyone could clearly see how it was done. I bet Yoda didn't like that, since he carefully dismounts so no-one can see the mechanism. I asked him about it when he got back, and he said that Yoda is his cousin. They're both from Romania. He said that people can look it up on the internet anyway, so what's the point of hiding it? Magic!!
Business was okay when he was up, but when he came back it was impossible to compete. People wanted to examine the setup from all angles, so they would come into my pitch and stand right in front of me, looking to the side at this guy. Excuse me?? I had a nice chat with an older man, whom I had seen several times during the Fringe, about travel and stuff. We also discussed the difficulty of playing next to a levitator, and I couldn't resist telling him "Some people have the nerve to come into my pitch to photograph him!" while clearly within earshot of people doing exactly that. He suggested I move across the street where there was a nice sunny patch next to the Angels and Bagpipes restaurant. That's not usually a pitch, since there are vendor stalls and it's too close to other musical acts at the cathedral, but I went for it that day. It was actually quite good, with a steady stream of people. One worker even came down from the council office behind me just to tip. Best of all, this old guy who hangs around a lot was soaking in the sun there as well, and he requested I play "Chariots of Fire." This song has gotten a tepid response, so I was glad it has a fan. Just a couple of things before moving on to Saturday:
1. Sometimes I'll be playing the wrong song for the age group walking by, but sometimes I'm surprised. Specifically, on Tuesday, I was playing "The Final Countdown" as some pensioners came by, but they totally tipped. Nice.
2. I talked to some Americans from Tennessee. I told them that I almost went to Tennessee last winter (their daughter lives in Chattanooga). It was crazy to think about how different my life in Edinburgh is from what my life in Chattanooga would have been like. What if I hadn't changed plans?? Crazy.
3. Ritchie the blues guitarist stopped to say hello. He was set up all of the Fringe at the corner of High St. and Cockburn, outside of the official busking realm. So he wasn't part of the Street Events, but always got that spot and stayed all day. He always had a decent crowd, and sounded pretty good. Now, it seems he has stayed into September. We talked a little bit (and it seems he asked me out, whatevs.)
Now, onto Saturday.
**************************************************************
I had abandoned the markets during the Festival. For the first two weeks I had to, since my venue show ran during those hours, but I definitely could have made it after that. I had planned to continue them, and even rehearsed a conversation I would have with buskers in my spot. In the end, I was so wrapped up in Festival life that I didn't even think about going. I was happy to be back there last Saturday, to feel like normal life and see my favorite kiddies.
I got there pretty late, however, and it was slow at my end. I think this week I'll be disloyal and set up at the other end. Didn't see my usual kids! I was playing really badly. It didn't make sense, since I hadn't played accordion for a few days; usually that rest makes me play well. I sucked for pretty much all of the market. Hmm. Few notes:
Saturday, 1 September, 2012, Part 1:
1. On the riveting topic of how I struggle at saying "thank you" while playing: I learned that it is quite easy to say "thank you" during "Werewolves of London" because of the rhythmic duos on the right hand. Listen to the intro; there are many opportunities to say "Thank you" in rhythm with the song!
2. A dad and his three daughters came to the market via bicycle. After they did their shopping they stopped to listen, so I passed them the percussion instruments. The older girls helped the little toddler figure out the shaker, which was cute. They had to go home to tidy their rooms, which we discussed. I told them about the Robot Game I played as a kid (and definitely do NOT still play now...) to make a chore more fun. Hopefully they tried it!
3. The guy who works at the Chocolate Tree stall came to have lunch on the bench directly across from me. It made me nervous having an audience who hears me all the time, but it made me try really hard to play well!
4. This is a good enough place to put this, since the aforementioned man is not a fan of kazoo: I seem to have lost my kazoo. I was planning to bring it back on some songs, but it's nowhere to be found! Oh well, it was really terrible.
5. A guy on a bike stopped during "Take On Me" and began to sing along, but bailed before the embarrassing high part! No fun for me, but probably a good choice.
I packed up, stopping by the Chocolate Tree stall to try to score some goodies. The guy did in fact give me a small cut up dark hot chocolate, which is pretty much rich enough to count as lunch. Nice. Headed to the Mile for round two. I forget who was at the cathedral, but Tartan Heather was at my spot. I don't want to spoil this bit of the Big Fringe post, but I no longer fear her. In fact, we're BFFs. I still kept my distance passing her though, and passing the circle pitch to investigate pitches lower down. Ritchie the blues guitarist was at his corner, so I couldn't take the police box. Todd appeared at the perfect time. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I'm looking for a pitch!" "What do you mean?" What do I mean??? "How about right here?" he suggested. We were right in front of MacGregor's. He said that guitar players play at that bollard all the time. It was far enough from the circle pitch and far enough from Ritchie. It's common knowledge that Royal McGregor's Pub is kind to buskers, and next to it was Subway, which I don't particularly care about. So I went for it.
This turned out to be a great pitch. At this time of day people were sitting outside McGregor's only long enough for a drink, which was long enough to hear enough music to want to tip but not get annoyed. There were also people sitting outside the chip shop and Subway, and I could turn around and get people walking down the mile.
Saturday, Part 2:
5. A marching band set up between Ritchie and me. That's-a no good. I figured they must be passing through, but when they began a second song I asked some nice ladies outside McGregor's to watch my stuff when I went to talk to them. One woman said they'd just do the Finale then move on. Fair enough. They did, and moved to Hunter Square (luckily quiet enough), but my adrenaline had kicked in. So annoying that every kind of confrontation, even if nothing scary happens, gives me this massive adrenaline rush. It made it very hard to stay balanced on the stool, and of course to play well.
6. At one point I realized things were incredibly loud again. Not only had the marching band set up somewhere on Cockburn St., just out of view, but the circle show was really loud. Whoever it was had his music at full volume and was dancing. It turned out to be the elusive Silver, who made it into the blog once when he gave me some valuable busking advice. Todd says that he doesn't do shows anymore, just one a year. So that was it. I tried to play loudly, over both of these interruptions.
7. But then a man asked if I wouldn't mind stopping for a bit. It turns out he was director of a Presbyterian TV programme they were filming, and I was quite close to the actor's microphone. He said they were just going to wait for Silver to be quiet too, then film. Yeah, good luck with that. It did end up being quite a long pause, but it was cool lurking in the background of a TV scene. The programme seemed quite boring, all I really caught was the narrator saying "18th century England." They managed to get enough takes in before Super Scott started his subsequent show.
8. There was a fancy wedding at the cathedral. I saw them taking photos on my walk down, and they had their own private piper! The ceremony had obviously finished, since everyone walked down the hill by me: bridesmaids in royal blue, men in kilts, little kids in formalwear. I assumed the bride would be coming down, and I really hoped the TV crew would be done in time for me to play "Here Comes the Bride" to a real bride. But she never appeared! Probably had a fancy car. Or horse-drawn carriage.
9. Speaking of which, did play it for a couple hen parties. Still get that adrenaline rush too! So much adrenaline!
10. These two nice ladies (lesbians?) had been listening at the pub for a while, but they went nuts for "Ring of Fire." Loved it!
11. A guy said, "Love the name." (Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox) Nice to hear, it's been a while.
12. Totoro fail! A guy walked by in a [My Neighbor] Totoro t-shirt. I've been waiting for this to happen for years. First I yelled "NICE SHIRT!" at him, then launched the Totoro theme song (the "Hey let's go, hey let's go, we're happy as can be" one). Nothing. Probably should have gone with "And you'll be with Totoro, Totoro." Hopefully it'll happen again.
13. I realized that my £1 note is missing. These are quite rare, and someone had given me one, which I use as my feed money. Several people have asked if they could trade me for it, but I haven't permitted it. This means somebody helped themself. Hopefully they left me a big tip. Too bad.
14. A little boy and his parents came by and stopped to listen. They walked by again later. Even later they came by a third time, and the kid was crying. I played extra cheerfully, and he stopped crying! Works like a charm. He was so cute, and after they left, the boy in his father's arms waved to me. I blew him a kiss, and he totally blew one back. Love it! We went back and forth a few times, blowing kisses, and the parents didn't seem to notice. Little secret alliance.
15. An older Scottish man asked if I could play "Flower of Scotland." Can I ever! I save it for requests, and was excited to bust it out again. But then, of course, he didn't want to hear much and interrupted it to talk, before I even got to the surprising Bb. Still fun!
16. I hinted at Heather's and my camaraderie, and today she left the pitch and walked by me to get food. She said something unintelligible that playfully indicated that she wasn't giving up the pitch, and I playfully yelled back that I kept my distance, that I hadn't even tried. We both hooted with laughter, and I hoped patio-sitters enjoyed that interaction.
17. A guy stopped to talk, and asked if I would record something with him. Seemed a little weird, and for the first time it was a good thing to be able to say "I'm leaving town in a few weeks." :(
18. Last note. Can't read it. Looks like "Adren." Or "Actren." No idea. Oh well!
I stopped because I was really hungry! My lunch had been hot chocolate, after all. Todd was doing a show and I decided that he would invite me to dinner, but then he didn't. I found Edgar playing at the castle in normal clothes. What was it, casual Saturday? Usually he looks fabulous in his top hat with playing cards, tie, and jacket. He and I went for a beer in the Grassmarket, where I was going to keep playing after. But then I went home. Had to save some for Sunday! On that note, here's that post...
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
"Making Scotland Look Bad"
Wow, summer has come! It lasted one day, and actually, just maybe, exceeded 70 degrees in the sun. Today was my last busk, most likely, before the craziness of the Fringe. And I almost didn't play. I had theatre rehearsal, which only ended at like 2:00. Plenty of time left in the day, but I can think of so many excuses not to busk. The main one was that I really need to get Flaca's dance stand up and running, so that would be a good use of my afternoon. True, but it was a gorgeous day, and I'm taking the weekend off to go traveling with my parents.
But I got a text from Tom that contained the magic words: "No death queen." Excellent. So I moseyed over to the Mile, where I hadn't played (except for that lame hour last Saturday) since the amazing day on Friday the 13th.
Of course, there were so many people out. A piper, this band that contains violin and cajon that comes out often, a jazz trio with saxophone, Elaine, and Yoda! Yoda's reputation preceded him; my theatre director Flavia had mentioned him and shown me a picture. He is a little Yoda who levitates. Pretttty cool. A cast member knew how he does it and explained it, and that secret is safe with me. It was cool seeing him live though! Then, there was a piper at the "fountain" across from my usual pitch. That's what I want to call it, even though it's not a fountain. Pipers don't belong there. Wiped out my spot. But it was also too close to the circle pitch, which was good for me.
Tony (?) was about to start a circle show so it was likely that the piper would be moved on. I set up in my spot, prepared to wait as long as I had to. One last hurrah with my old pitch. The piper was an older, skinny, white-haired gentleman who I've seen before. I humoured the idea for a minute that he might be that other white-haired guy who hangs around, who is often with Elaine. He was posing for photos and dancing with people at this point, without playing, so I decided to start even though he hadn't packed up. The airspace was unoccupied, after all.
We signed languaged across the street after a few songs, and he granted me permission to keep playing. Totally nice guy, came over to talk and said that my sound is so mellow so it fits well with the other acts, but that he is too loud. He said, "I've seen you" in a way that made it clear that he was not that other guy. Oh, and he liked "Paint it Black." And so there I was, with my pitch, sun in the sky, with no scary people around! Life was good!
Sorry, that was an extra-long and boring intro.
Wednesday, 25 July, 2012:
1. It all started with a homeless man. I didn't fully understand his accent, how that often goes, but he commented on my student loan sign and suggested that he sit next to me and do Flaca for a cut of the money. He insisted that he could get us a huge crowd. No thanks! That sign has done me no good with the not-well-off population of Edinburgh.
2. Following this man was a determined and independent little girl in a pink and white polka-dotted dress. She came right up and picked up Flaca, thus making her dad tip without a discussion first. I saw her soon after getting a hair wrap done; I wondered if the father had had a similar (low) level of consent for that. Later she came by again, saw an adult pick up one of my business cards, and picked one up herself, handing it to her dad. Cute.
3. It was so warm and sunny that I had to put sunscreen on! As I was making this decision I was talking to Tom and a woman who used to play accordion who had lingered. I told Tom about the accordion tan I totally rocked last year, and the woman piped up and quite seriously said, "I never had an accordion tan." I guess her outfit wasn't skimpy enough, then. The application, however, led me to one of my greatest occupational hazards: sunscreen hands. My hands get so slippery! It's especially problematic on the left side, where I'm sliding all over the place. In Ptown I used to wear a wrist support thing that also covered my palm just to grip the instrument in instances of sunscreen and sweat. Today, I was unprepared. I thought about how much I, and other musicians, would benefit from special sunscreen-removing wipes that one could bring along in zir pack. But then I realized that would be such an unhelpful invention for the rest of the world. Why would anyone else possibly need to remove sunscreen on the go? If you caught me chuckling to myself halfway through a song, that is why.
4. As I was putting the sunscreen back in the bag, a man sat on the step right next to me. "Are you joining my act?" I playfully asked him. "I was going to sit here, if that's okay." "Well would you mind moving down one section? Otherwise people might expect you to dance." And then he got mad. "I was born here, you don't tell me where to fucking sit." "This is my fucking city." Etc. He did have a point. This older man was quite put-together; nicely dressed, freshly shaven, clean hair. But with whisky on his breath. And an open beer can in his fancy jacket pocket. He had one of those faces that looks familiar, like a clown or transvestite or someone, but out of costume. I did feel bad about it; it in fact is not my place to tell him where to sit. Getting my pitch sends me on a power trip. He probably would have decided pretty quickly to not keep sitting there once I was playing again. He went off in a huff.
But then...he came back, just a minute later and APOLOGIZED. Totally unexpected. He said I actually could tell him where to sit, and asked where I was from. I didn't want to tell the whole truth, because of the high annoying-level of Americans abroad; I had done something annoying, and I didn't want to help that statistic. But I can't completely tell a lie in an English-speaking country, so I said, "I was born in the United States, but now I split my time between here and Switzerland." First place that came to mind. He mumbled something about having been to both of those places, and said they're not bad. Oh shit, is he going to quiz me on Switzerland? Instead, he took my hand and said, "I feel like a giant twat," or something. I told him the truth: that many people are twattier than him. Pretty sure that's the first time I've used that word in its comparative form. He introduced himself as Andrew and went on his way once again. Strange, but I'll take it. I decided that I can try saying I'm from Mexico; that my parents run a school there. Easier than explaining why I'm Swiss but don't speak German, French, or Italian.
5. In the world of people-watching: a guy walked by in a suit carrying a guitar-hero guitar. And two pairs of young women walked by, several minutes apart, one in a fancy mask and one in a fake mustache. Same configuration both times. Hmm.
6. Here's the main event of the day. Actually, probably the worst interaction I've ever had while busking. Perfect for the section of my future book about "haters," though:
An older woman stopped to listen. I believe I was playing "I've Just Seen a Face," but I could be wrong. She came up and asked, "Have you had any formal training on the accordion?"
"No, I haven't."
"That's what I thought."
She was smiling and said this playfully, so there were no hard feeling yet.
"What gave me away?" I asked.
Her: "Well it's quite obvious. Wrong notes and doing the bellows wrong."
Me: "Are you an accordion player?"
Her: "No, but my husband was."
Me: "Yes, the bellows is hard to figure out on one's own, but I have had formal training on piano which has helped make the transition."
Her: "What level?"
Me: "I had ten years of lessons."
Her: "But what grade level?"
Me: "Oh, where I come from we don't have grade levels." (All music lessons here are done by grade level.)
Her: Too bad, it's the only way to learn an instrument.
She began to leave, and I thanked her for her feedback. But then she came back. I don't remember the wording for the next bit, but it ended with her saying generally that I don't play well.
Me: "Well you've heard very little of my playing..."
Her: "I've heard enough." (Or maybe "I've heard all I need to hear.") (And I wish I had the exact wording of the next bit just for optimal emotive success. I'll put it in bold.)
"You don't play well and it makes Scotland look bad to have you standing here playing a Scottish instrument poorly. And it's obvious that you didn't progress very far on piano."
Ouch! She kept going on, too. I meekly stood up for myself just enough to squeakily say, "Okay, now that's insulting," but of course after she retreated I thought of a thousand really awesome comebacks. Namely, that the accordion is not a Scottish instrument. And that, um, THAT guy thinks I play okay! [The aforementioned old guy who hangs out near Elaine would have to walk by at that precise moment for that to work, though.] Maybe I should have told her the wrong notes were a result of the sunscreen (fact). Or maybe I should have told her this is the best I can do with my permanently disabled left wrist (not completely false) and my strange dyscalculia that makes learning music challenging (extremely false).
But anyway....what the fuck? Who gets off on insulting poor starving musicians (just ate eighteen Digestives, don't worry)? Did she think I'd say, "Hey! You're right!" and pack up? Or would she have not cared if I had a nice Scottish accent? Hey, at least she didn't mention my terrible sense of tempo, I'll call that a victory.
7. Luckily, right on her heels came a guy who handed me a fiver and said, "I play accordion, but not as well as you." Wow, he must be, like, INSANELY terrible then, since we all now know how badly I play. :)
8. On a lighter note...there was a generous scattering of croissant crumbs directly at my feet. Unsurprisingly, a bold pigeon waddled over and went to work. I was playing right above it, yet the sound didn't scare it away. (It was thinking, "Well, she obviously hasn't had formal training, but I'm hungry so I'll survive.") When it became clear that it wasn't going anywhere, I tried to think of a way to involve it in the act. I had an uncharacteristically good idea: I could play "Feed the Birds" from "Mary Poppins." You know, the "tuppence" one. Everyone would get it, well at least Americans and Brits, and hopefully tip for the comedic value. The problem, however, was that the bird was directly behind my box, so no one could see it. It just looked like I was looking straight down while improvising a song. Ah, well.
9. I spoke with Glasgow Jimmy again, who had just come from a matinee of "The Dark Knight Rises." He explained that he went to see it just because his son, who works as a stuntman, appears in it. Jimmy found it to be a bore though, and wanted to leave after the first scene, in which his son appears. But he stayed longer in case his son came up again...he ended up walking out after 120 minutes. "20 minutes?" "120 minutes." "Oh, so you stayed pretty long then." "No, the film is two hours long." Trying to work out what that could have meant.
10. I saw a kid that looks so familiar. He's about 14, and I saw him three times this week. By the third time, today, I was convinced that I know him. I didn't talk to him, though, and wish I had. I must have known him as a child, so I'm thinking back to younger siblings of my classmates, even former campers, but it's a puzzle. Now I'm thinking that it was a one-time interaction, like someone on whom I waited last summer, or the like. Drivin' me nuts! Unfortunately I'm going away this weekend so I won't see him any more if he is just passing through town.
11. Lastly, I spoke to a photographer. I believe he's the one that someone recently identified to me as the "Mad Portuguese Photographer." I led the conversation in the direction of the weather, as people do best, and we agreed that it was a magnificent day. "It's been raining pretty much non-stop for the last three weeks!" No, really? I hadn't noticed! After six months it's getting a leeetle old when people assume I just stepped off an airplane.
So it wasn't a long day, but it wasn't an uneventful day. I'll go away tomorrow, and when I get back the city will be unrecognizable due to the influx of performers and spectators. Here, read all about the Fringe festival. I have a lot to do, between preparing for my theatre show, learning my choir music, getting ready for KAIHO shows, and preparing my best possible busking act! But it's not going to happen this weekend. This weekend is for reverting to my childish ways to play cards with my parents out in the countryside, just the way I like it.
Till next time.
But I got a text from Tom that contained the magic words: "No death queen." Excellent. So I moseyed over to the Mile, where I hadn't played (except for that lame hour last Saturday) since the amazing day on Friday the 13th.
Of course, there were so many people out. A piper, this band that contains violin and cajon that comes out often, a jazz trio with saxophone, Elaine, and Yoda! Yoda's reputation preceded him; my theatre director Flavia had mentioned him and shown me a picture. He is a little Yoda who levitates. Pretttty cool. A cast member knew how he does it and explained it, and that secret is safe with me. It was cool seeing him live though! Then, there was a piper at the "fountain" across from my usual pitch. That's what I want to call it, even though it's not a fountain. Pipers don't belong there. Wiped out my spot. But it was also too close to the circle pitch, which was good for me.
Tony (?) was about to start a circle show so it was likely that the piper would be moved on. I set up in my spot, prepared to wait as long as I had to. One last hurrah with my old pitch. The piper was an older, skinny, white-haired gentleman who I've seen before. I humoured the idea for a minute that he might be that other white-haired guy who hangs around, who is often with Elaine. He was posing for photos and dancing with people at this point, without playing, so I decided to start even though he hadn't packed up. The airspace was unoccupied, after all.
We signed languaged across the street after a few songs, and he granted me permission to keep playing. Totally nice guy, came over to talk and said that my sound is so mellow so it fits well with the other acts, but that he is too loud. He said, "I've seen you" in a way that made it clear that he was not that other guy. Oh, and he liked "Paint it Black." And so there I was, with my pitch, sun in the sky, with no scary people around! Life was good!
Sorry, that was an extra-long and boring intro.
Wednesday, 25 July, 2012:
1. It all started with a homeless man. I didn't fully understand his accent, how that often goes, but he commented on my student loan sign and suggested that he sit next to me and do Flaca for a cut of the money. He insisted that he could get us a huge crowd. No thanks! That sign has done me no good with the not-well-off population of Edinburgh.
2. Following this man was a determined and independent little girl in a pink and white polka-dotted dress. She came right up and picked up Flaca, thus making her dad tip without a discussion first. I saw her soon after getting a hair wrap done; I wondered if the father had had a similar (low) level of consent for that. Later she came by again, saw an adult pick up one of my business cards, and picked one up herself, handing it to her dad. Cute.
3. It was so warm and sunny that I had to put sunscreen on! As I was making this decision I was talking to Tom and a woman who used to play accordion who had lingered. I told Tom about the accordion tan I totally rocked last year, and the woman piped up and quite seriously said, "I never had an accordion tan." I guess her outfit wasn't skimpy enough, then. The application, however, led me to one of my greatest occupational hazards: sunscreen hands. My hands get so slippery! It's especially problematic on the left side, where I'm sliding all over the place. In Ptown I used to wear a wrist support thing that also covered my palm just to grip the instrument in instances of sunscreen and sweat. Today, I was unprepared. I thought about how much I, and other musicians, would benefit from special sunscreen-removing wipes that one could bring along in zir pack. But then I realized that would be such an unhelpful invention for the rest of the world. Why would anyone else possibly need to remove sunscreen on the go? If you caught me chuckling to myself halfway through a song, that is why.
4. As I was putting the sunscreen back in the bag, a man sat on the step right next to me. "Are you joining my act?" I playfully asked him. "I was going to sit here, if that's okay." "Well would you mind moving down one section? Otherwise people might expect you to dance." And then he got mad. "I was born here, you don't tell me where to fucking sit." "This is my fucking city." Etc. He did have a point. This older man was quite put-together; nicely dressed, freshly shaven, clean hair. But with whisky on his breath. And an open beer can in his fancy jacket pocket. He had one of those faces that looks familiar, like a clown or transvestite or someone, but out of costume. I did feel bad about it; it in fact is not my place to tell him where to sit. Getting my pitch sends me on a power trip. He probably would have decided pretty quickly to not keep sitting there once I was playing again. He went off in a huff.
But then...he came back, just a minute later and APOLOGIZED. Totally unexpected. He said I actually could tell him where to sit, and asked where I was from. I didn't want to tell the whole truth, because of the high annoying-level of Americans abroad; I had done something annoying, and I didn't want to help that statistic. But I can't completely tell a lie in an English-speaking country, so I said, "I was born in the United States, but now I split my time between here and Switzerland." First place that came to mind. He mumbled something about having been to both of those places, and said they're not bad. Oh shit, is he going to quiz me on Switzerland? Instead, he took my hand and said, "I feel like a giant twat," or something. I told him the truth: that many people are twattier than him. Pretty sure that's the first time I've used that word in its comparative form. He introduced himself as Andrew and went on his way once again. Strange, but I'll take it. I decided that I can try saying I'm from Mexico; that my parents run a school there. Easier than explaining why I'm Swiss but don't speak German, French, or Italian.
5. In the world of people-watching: a guy walked by in a suit carrying a guitar-hero guitar. And two pairs of young women walked by, several minutes apart, one in a fancy mask and one in a fake mustache. Same configuration both times. Hmm.
6. Here's the main event of the day. Actually, probably the worst interaction I've ever had while busking. Perfect for the section of my future book about "haters," though:
An older woman stopped to listen. I believe I was playing "I've Just Seen a Face," but I could be wrong. She came up and asked, "Have you had any formal training on the accordion?"
"No, I haven't."
"That's what I thought."
She was smiling and said this playfully, so there were no hard feeling yet.
"What gave me away?" I asked.
Her: "Well it's quite obvious. Wrong notes and doing the bellows wrong."
Me: "Are you an accordion player?"
Her: "No, but my husband was."
Me: "Yes, the bellows is hard to figure out on one's own, but I have had formal training on piano which has helped make the transition."
Her: "What level?"
Me: "I had ten years of lessons."
Her: "But what grade level?"
Me: "Oh, where I come from we don't have grade levels." (All music lessons here are done by grade level.)
Her: Too bad, it's the only way to learn an instrument.
She began to leave, and I thanked her for her feedback. But then she came back. I don't remember the wording for the next bit, but it ended with her saying generally that I don't play well.
Me: "Well you've heard very little of my playing..."
Her: "I've heard enough." (Or maybe "I've heard all I need to hear.") (And I wish I had the exact wording of the next bit just for optimal emotive success. I'll put it in bold.)
"You don't play well and it makes Scotland look bad to have you standing here playing a Scottish instrument poorly. And it's obvious that you didn't progress very far on piano."
Ouch! She kept going on, too. I meekly stood up for myself just enough to squeakily say, "Okay, now that's insulting," but of course after she retreated I thought of a thousand really awesome comebacks. Namely, that the accordion is not a Scottish instrument. And that, um, THAT guy thinks I play okay! [The aforementioned old guy who hangs out near Elaine would have to walk by at that precise moment for that to work, though.] Maybe I should have told her the wrong notes were a result of the sunscreen (fact). Or maybe I should have told her this is the best I can do with my permanently disabled left wrist (not completely false) and my strange dyscalculia that makes learning music challenging (extremely false).
But anyway....what the fuck? Who gets off on insulting poor starving musicians (just ate eighteen Digestives, don't worry)? Did she think I'd say, "Hey! You're right!" and pack up? Or would she have not cared if I had a nice Scottish accent? Hey, at least she didn't mention my terrible sense of tempo, I'll call that a victory.
7. Luckily, right on her heels came a guy who handed me a fiver and said, "I play accordion, but not as well as you." Wow, he must be, like, INSANELY terrible then, since we all now know how badly I play. :)
8. On a lighter note...there was a generous scattering of croissant crumbs directly at my feet. Unsurprisingly, a bold pigeon waddled over and went to work. I was playing right above it, yet the sound didn't scare it away. (It was thinking, "Well, she obviously hasn't had formal training, but I'm hungry so I'll survive.") When it became clear that it wasn't going anywhere, I tried to think of a way to involve it in the act. I had an uncharacteristically good idea: I could play "Feed the Birds" from "Mary Poppins." You know, the "tuppence" one. Everyone would get it, well at least Americans and Brits, and hopefully tip for the comedic value. The problem, however, was that the bird was directly behind my box, so no one could see it. It just looked like I was looking straight down while improvising a song. Ah, well.
9. I spoke with Glasgow Jimmy again, who had just come from a matinee of "The Dark Knight Rises." He explained that he went to see it just because his son, who works as a stuntman, appears in it. Jimmy found it to be a bore though, and wanted to leave after the first scene, in which his son appears. But he stayed longer in case his son came up again...he ended up walking out after 120 minutes. "20 minutes?" "120 minutes." "Oh, so you stayed pretty long then." "No, the film is two hours long." Trying to work out what that could have meant.
10. I saw a kid that looks so familiar. He's about 14, and I saw him three times this week. By the third time, today, I was convinced that I know him. I didn't talk to him, though, and wish I had. I must have known him as a child, so I'm thinking back to younger siblings of my classmates, even former campers, but it's a puzzle. Now I'm thinking that it was a one-time interaction, like someone on whom I waited last summer, or the like. Drivin' me nuts! Unfortunately I'm going away this weekend so I won't see him any more if he is just passing through town.
11. Lastly, I spoke to a photographer. I believe he's the one that someone recently identified to me as the "Mad Portuguese Photographer." I led the conversation in the direction of the weather, as people do best, and we agreed that it was a magnificent day. "It's been raining pretty much non-stop for the last three weeks!" No, really? I hadn't noticed! After six months it's getting a leeetle old when people assume I just stepped off an airplane.
So it wasn't a long day, but it wasn't an uneventful day. I'll go away tomorrow, and when I get back the city will be unrecognizable due to the influx of performers and spectators. Here, read all about the Fringe festival. I have a lot to do, between preparing for my theatre show, learning my choir music, getting ready for KAIHO shows, and preparing my best possible busking act! But it's not going to happen this weekend. This weekend is for reverting to my childish ways to play cards with my parents out in the countryside, just the way I like it.
Till next time.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Coffee and Love To Be Found
Oh, how I love the market! Today was my third Sunday playing at the Stockbridge Market, having previously gone in February and June. It is just such a lovely scene, with children, pregnant women, and puppies everywhere, the smell of food in the air, and smiles on everyone's faces. Nobody is fighting for spots or airspace, there are no hen parties, and everyone gets along. You're playing predominantly for locals, not tourists.
I set up at the entrance near the tables. I was in the company of an old-fashioned bicycle-operated ice cream stand, a French wine bar, and the "French Connection" crepe truck. More on them.
It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm! Down to just my dress! However, the wind was brutal. Huge gusts came through and rattled the tents, deposited sand in everyone's eyes, sent flyers flying (I lost a few business cards), and knocked over a tray of shortbread. It meant I had to play as loudly as I could, and at times it carried my tunes in the wrong direction (the hot cheese vendor 50 feet away had no idea I was there) (as in a hot person who vends regular-temperature cheese). It became clear right away that Flaca was never going to stay upright, so she took cover in the box.
I thought way back to my first day at the Saturday market, where it was equally windy. "Blowin' in the Wind" was still in the rotation then, and a passerby had commented that it was an appropriate song for the weather. I pulled it out of retirement just for today, but unfortunately no one commented on the juxtaposition. Everyone was too busy chasing their hats! All I could do to save my act during these gusts was close the accordion, hug it tight, put all my weight on my set list and notebook, and commend myself for choosing a country where the money is metal. Had I been in the US, I would have lost all of my tips.
I played for about three hours, with the exception of two breaks where I ate my delicious hummus and veggie wrap and wandered around the market tasting samples. Here are the highlights:
Sunday, 22 July 2012:
1. A man who read my sign tipped and said that he hoped it would "shorten my debt." Pretty standard, but that was new wording that I liked.
2. I talked quite a bit to the Frenchman selling wine behind me. It was a cool setup; he had these little barrels with spouts from which he would fill empty bottles. This also meant that tasting was quite easy. The Burgundy-native responded to my declaration that I would travel more in France after learning a bit of the language by saying that French people find American and British accents "cute." Not nearly as cute as we find French accents!
3. There's a fellow who I see on the Mile who, ever since my percussion act, taps his foot to indicate that I should still use it. I looked up today and he was right in front of me. "Ye're in my neck o' the woods today!" he declared. He expressed his preference that I continue the percussion, and asked why I quit. I do still keep the two shakers, so I stuck them in my shoe for old times' sake.
4. "Cat jumper fro guy." When I was walking over, but still in my neighborhood, I spotted a distinct looking person: a young Caucasian man with a huge afro and a jumper with white and grey cats on it. That was all. But I tend to stand out as well with my piano dress and painted box, so we both recognized each other when he showed up at the market. "I guess this is the place to be!" he declared. (I'm already way past my quota for the verb "to declare" in this post, oops.) That was pretty cool.
5. A group of guys about my age all came in, and noticed my "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox" sign in the mind-in-the-gutter way that hasn't come up in the while. They politely chorted, but made sure to point it out to the rest of their friends who arrived. The good news is that one of them loudly sang along with "Take On Me."
6. A couple came up and asked what song I had played before the one I had just finished. That was...."I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)." The man had recognized it. Excellent, this is one of my favorite songs ever, and favorites to play, and no one ever comments on it.
7. While I ate my lunch I talked to a man from Liverpool. I don't remember what we talked about, but it was quite nice!
8. The road was to my left, and occasionally I would turn and look at the cars stopped at the light. Quite often the people in the cars would smile and wave! I love Stockbridge.
9. During my break I made the rounds around the market, and checked in with Beth who is in charge. She made sure I had everything I needed, and asked, "Do you want a crepe?" However, with her accent I thought she was asking me something much more personal. It's a valid question though; I had been there a few hours and there were no restrooms on the premise. Luckily she responded to my silence with "...maybe a crepe with lemon and sugar?" and I got it. She elaborated, saying that I ought to go to the crepe truck and tell the guy that Beth had sent me for a free crepe.
And so I did. The young French guy working was super nice. He complained that he wanted a cigarette break but it was very busy. We discussed French music, and he gave me the name of two bands that he likes: Les Ogres de Barback and La Rue Ketanou. I'll have to look them up for next time! He wrote these down for me in lovely French script.
10. I also exchanged words with the seafood vendors who were right in front of me and therefore bore of the brunt of the listening. I offered to move for my last run-through, but the man in charge said it wasn't necessary. He recognized most of the songs! But, he asked, where was my percussion?
11a. A jolly middle-aged man was milling about. He commented on my skirt, and asked if anyone ever asks to play it. Later he was caught dancing to "Ça Gaze" with two girls about my age. We spoke on his way out, and I said I was from Boston. He said that he was born in Boston, England! Cool! When we discussed school I mentioned Worcester, and he said he knows someone in Worcester, MA. His best friend from high school, David, who is now Jenny, 's ex-wife, because [David] didn't want a wife after his sex change, lives in Worcester. Or something. "I'm going to give you a book," and he handed me a booklet. "Let me talk to her now!" said an older woman, and off he went.
b. The woman was so nice, and a total free spirit. She had a fancy white hair accessory, and wore a flowy top and skirt, all whitish. I had seen her talking to the wine vendor and other people; she seemed to know everyone. When it was FINALLY her turn to talk to me, she thanked me for playing Parlez-moi d'Amour, which her mother used to sing to her. I told her the story about my first date with my ex, that made me want to learn the song. Her parting words were, "Accordion makes you cry. It's an instrument of the people." So true. Hope to see her again.
c. I looked at the booklet the man had given me, expecting it to be something religious and weird. Quite on the contrary, it was a booklet this man had put together after visiting many coffee shops around the city. Each spread features a photo of a local barista, listing his/her name, place of origin (people from allll over the world), and the shop, and a poem of some sort. Some are from famous poets or song lyrics, but most are this man's originals. Here's my favorite poem, about the book in general, opposite the photo of a young Polish woman working at Caffé Lucano, which I also happen to love:
"Bugger"
This work, once supposed to be tragic,
With something so poignant to say,
By some serendipitous magic
Appears to have gone well agley.
Twenty-five chaps and chapesses,
Who'd sweeten the bitterest heart:
Their welcoming cheerfulness messes
With this tale of a lonely old fart.
So, like Micean men, with their well-planned lays,
I know, as I wander around,
There will always be something to brighten my days,
While there's coffee and love to be found!
(Dai Lowe, July 2009)
Isn't that just so lovely? It warmed the heart of this former and future barista.
12. Beth so kindly went around the market and collected donations from vendors. She said, "They wanted to chip in a little so you'll come back!" Oh, wild horses couldn't keep me from coming back!! But, she said, the vendors did have one wee request: that I bring back the percussion and kazoo! They had liked it! Damn, that's a lot of votes to bring it back. I haven't missed it, but maybe I could shake a foot or two on the occasional song.
13. A couple entered the market, and the man immediately stopped short in front of my box. He bent down, and left....a peach! Not my first fruit tip, but my first peach. Awesome.
14. As I was packing up, a vendor ran over with a tip and said, "Thanks for making the last hour a lot less boring!" That's a new one, I'll take it!
15. Also as I was packing up, a little boy with tiger face paint came over and asked if I wanted ice cream. He is the son of the ice cream vendor! The stand is run by a woman in sort-of retro clothing that matches the stand, and her older son also has a great retro look about him. The younger son wore totally modern clothes, with the tiger face paint. An interesting looking lot! I said yes, I would like ice cream, and he came back with a cone for me. So sweet! (Not that I was sending over vibes for that to happen all day or anything.) And it only got mildly sandy when the wind came through.
16. Lastly, a guy came up as I was about to leave the premises, and asked if I had had a hat out. What? Hadn't he seen? "Well I had my box..." He explained that he had been listening all day from his HOUSE on that street, and had come all the way down to give me a tip. Isn't that so sweet? I guess my sound carried after all!
As you can see, it was such a nice outing. I have rarely felt so welcomed and supported in my busking. I hope to put in several more Sundays here before I leave!
Might have to brave the Royal Mile again this week....ahhhhh!
Till next time.
I set up at the entrance near the tables. I was in the company of an old-fashioned bicycle-operated ice cream stand, a French wine bar, and the "French Connection" crepe truck. More on them.
It was a gorgeous day, sunny and warm! Down to just my dress! However, the wind was brutal. Huge gusts came through and rattled the tents, deposited sand in everyone's eyes, sent flyers flying (I lost a few business cards), and knocked over a tray of shortbread. It meant I had to play as loudly as I could, and at times it carried my tunes in the wrong direction (the hot cheese vendor 50 feet away had no idea I was there) (as in a hot person who vends regular-temperature cheese). It became clear right away that Flaca was never going to stay upright, so she took cover in the box.
I thought way back to my first day at the Saturday market, where it was equally windy. "Blowin' in the Wind" was still in the rotation then, and a passerby had commented that it was an appropriate song for the weather. I pulled it out of retirement just for today, but unfortunately no one commented on the juxtaposition. Everyone was too busy chasing their hats! All I could do to save my act during these gusts was close the accordion, hug it tight, put all my weight on my set list and notebook, and commend myself for choosing a country where the money is metal. Had I been in the US, I would have lost all of my tips.
I played for about three hours, with the exception of two breaks where I ate my delicious hummus and veggie wrap and wandered around the market tasting samples. Here are the highlights:
Sunday, 22 July 2012:
1. A man who read my sign tipped and said that he hoped it would "shorten my debt." Pretty standard, but that was new wording that I liked.
2. I talked quite a bit to the Frenchman selling wine behind me. It was a cool setup; he had these little barrels with spouts from which he would fill empty bottles. This also meant that tasting was quite easy. The Burgundy-native responded to my declaration that I would travel more in France after learning a bit of the language by saying that French people find American and British accents "cute." Not nearly as cute as we find French accents!
3. There's a fellow who I see on the Mile who, ever since my percussion act, taps his foot to indicate that I should still use it. I looked up today and he was right in front of me. "Ye're in my neck o' the woods today!" he declared. He expressed his preference that I continue the percussion, and asked why I quit. I do still keep the two shakers, so I stuck them in my shoe for old times' sake.
4. "Cat jumper fro guy." When I was walking over, but still in my neighborhood, I spotted a distinct looking person: a young Caucasian man with a huge afro and a jumper with white and grey cats on it. That was all. But I tend to stand out as well with my piano dress and painted box, so we both recognized each other when he showed up at the market. "I guess this is the place to be!" he declared. (I'm already way past my quota for the verb "to declare" in this post, oops.) That was pretty cool.
5. A group of guys about my age all came in, and noticed my "Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox" sign in the mind-in-the-gutter way that hasn't come up in the while. They politely chorted, but made sure to point it out to the rest of their friends who arrived. The good news is that one of them loudly sang along with "Take On Me."
6. A couple came up and asked what song I had played before the one I had just finished. That was...."I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)." The man had recognized it. Excellent, this is one of my favorite songs ever, and favorites to play, and no one ever comments on it.
7. While I ate my lunch I talked to a man from Liverpool. I don't remember what we talked about, but it was quite nice!
8. The road was to my left, and occasionally I would turn and look at the cars stopped at the light. Quite often the people in the cars would smile and wave! I love Stockbridge.
9. During my break I made the rounds around the market, and checked in with Beth who is in charge. She made sure I had everything I needed, and asked, "Do you want a crepe?" However, with her accent I thought she was asking me something much more personal. It's a valid question though; I had been there a few hours and there were no restrooms on the premise. Luckily she responded to my silence with "...maybe a crepe with lemon and sugar?" and I got it. She elaborated, saying that I ought to go to the crepe truck and tell the guy that Beth had sent me for a free crepe.
And so I did. The young French guy working was super nice. He complained that he wanted a cigarette break but it was very busy. We discussed French music, and he gave me the name of two bands that he likes: Les Ogres de Barback and La Rue Ketanou. I'll have to look them up for next time! He wrote these down for me in lovely French script.
10. I also exchanged words with the seafood vendors who were right in front of me and therefore bore of the brunt of the listening. I offered to move for my last run-through, but the man in charge said it wasn't necessary. He recognized most of the songs! But, he asked, where was my percussion?
11a. A jolly middle-aged man was milling about. He commented on my skirt, and asked if anyone ever asks to play it. Later he was caught dancing to "Ça Gaze" with two girls about my age. We spoke on his way out, and I said I was from Boston. He said that he was born in Boston, England! Cool! When we discussed school I mentioned Worcester, and he said he knows someone in Worcester, MA. His best friend from high school, David, who is now Jenny, 's ex-wife, because [David] didn't want a wife after his sex change, lives in Worcester. Or something. "I'm going to give you a book," and he handed me a booklet. "Let me talk to her now!" said an older woman, and off he went.
b. The woman was so nice, and a total free spirit. She had a fancy white hair accessory, and wore a flowy top and skirt, all whitish. I had seen her talking to the wine vendor and other people; she seemed to know everyone. When it was FINALLY her turn to talk to me, she thanked me for playing Parlez-moi d'Amour, which her mother used to sing to her. I told her the story about my first date with my ex, that made me want to learn the song. Her parting words were, "Accordion makes you cry. It's an instrument of the people." So true. Hope to see her again.
c. I looked at the booklet the man had given me, expecting it to be something religious and weird. Quite on the contrary, it was a booklet this man had put together after visiting many coffee shops around the city. Each spread features a photo of a local barista, listing his/her name, place of origin (people from allll over the world), and the shop, and a poem of some sort. Some are from famous poets or song lyrics, but most are this man's originals. Here's my favorite poem, about the book in general, opposite the photo of a young Polish woman working at Caffé Lucano, which I also happen to love:
"Bugger"
This work, once supposed to be tragic,
With something so poignant to say,
By some serendipitous magic
Appears to have gone well agley.
Twenty-five chaps and chapesses,
Who'd sweeten the bitterest heart:
Their welcoming cheerfulness messes
With this tale of a lonely old fart.
So, like Micean men, with their well-planned lays,
I know, as I wander around,
There will always be something to brighten my days,
While there's coffee and love to be found!
(Dai Lowe, July 2009)
Isn't that just so lovely? It warmed the heart of this former and future barista.
12. Beth so kindly went around the market and collected donations from vendors. She said, "They wanted to chip in a little so you'll come back!" Oh, wild horses couldn't keep me from coming back!! But, she said, the vendors did have one wee request: that I bring back the percussion and kazoo! They had liked it! Damn, that's a lot of votes to bring it back. I haven't missed it, but maybe I could shake a foot or two on the occasional song.
13. A couple entered the market, and the man immediately stopped short in front of my box. He bent down, and left....a peach! Not my first fruit tip, but my first peach. Awesome.
14. As I was packing up, a vendor ran over with a tip and said, "Thanks for making the last hour a lot less boring!" That's a new one, I'll take it!
15. Also as I was packing up, a little boy with tiger face paint came over and asked if I wanted ice cream. He is the son of the ice cream vendor! The stand is run by a woman in sort-of retro clothing that matches the stand, and her older son also has a great retro look about him. The younger son wore totally modern clothes, with the tiger face paint. An interesting looking lot! I said yes, I would like ice cream, and he came back with a cone for me. So sweet! (Not that I was sending over vibes for that to happen all day or anything.) And it only got mildly sandy when the wind came through.
16. Lastly, a guy came up as I was about to leave the premises, and asked if I had had a hat out. What? Hadn't he seen? "Well I had my box..." He explained that he had been listening all day from his HOUSE on that street, and had come all the way down to give me a tip. Isn't that so sweet? I guess my sound carried after all!
As you can see, it was such a nice outing. I have rarely felt so welcomed and supported in my busking. I hope to put in several more Sundays here before I leave!
Might have to brave the Royal Mile again this week....ahhhhh!
Till next time.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
And I Am a Material Girl
Hello again! Today was a big Saturday after an entire week off. I had a lovely visit with my parents, and celebrated my 24th birthday/3rd anniversary with my accordion. That said, I had to put in a big day today! It was Saturday, my last before the Fringe, and there was a 0% chance of rain. Awesome.
Saturday, 21 July, 2012
Naturally, the first stop was the Farmer's Market. However, after a week of tourism and birthday I let myself sleep in as late as I possibly could, which doesn't combine well with arriving at a morning market. In fact, I got there at 1:00 for a 2:00 end time, but everyone always packs up early. Oh well. Just a few notes:
1. A young couple recognized Twin Peaks and started dancing to it. Nice.
2. I had a nice long talk with an older gentleman with a perfect grandfatherly outfit including a tweed jacket and cap. He asked if I could play "Under Paris Skies." Nope. "Satin Doll." My quartet had sung it with the Clark University Jazz Ensemble (shamelessly napedropping), but my keyboard rendition of the Alto II line didn't satisfy him. His next requests were "Deil Among the Tailors" and "Triste Sourise," by the Black Isle Band. I showed him my set list and let him choose, and he commented that all those songs were too modern. I offered the ne'er-played "Never on Sunday" and "The Way You Look Tonight," but he chose "La Vie en Rose." Good choice, since it's one of my ace songs. Oh, and before I identified myself as American his guess for my ethnicity was Austrian. That's a new one!
3. As usual, I was next to the "Seriously Good Venison" stand, and I read their haggis sign more closely. I was amused by the catchphrase "Stag-geringly good haggis." Had I just played at the market today, this post would be called "Stag-geringly Good Accordion."
4. Luckily I wasn't too late for ALL of my kids. Brianna and her dad came, and she was dressed for summer! No more red raincoat; today she wore a purple sundress. I love that she just knows what to do. She came over and picked up Flaca and gave her dad the shakers. She had them switch jobs a few times, and did such a good job on both. I actually talked to the dad a bit this time. During "Wallace and Gromit" she stopped shaking and just looked right at the accordion, as if deep in thought. Her dad asked if she recognized the song and she indicated that she didn't, but it turned out they had watched some W&G that morning! Excellent choice.
And then the market closed. The venison vendor, not George, acknowledged my late arrival (as did Kat, "Good morning!" "Good AFTERNOON!") and teased me about having a crazy Friday night. Not so. Headed to Princes St. to do a couple errands and eat my lunch in the park before going to the Mile, but then I decided to chicken out and stay in New Town to play. Out of what I was chickening was of course dealing with Heather, the loon on the loom. If this was a territory war with long-term effects, I would be there dealing with it, getting yelled at, feeling scared, and putting my claim on the spot. However, there are about ten days left until the Fringe, six of which I'll be away for, then the spots are assigned for August. Then in September I assume I won't have much trouble! Therefore, it's not worth my time, and not worth the risk that Heather may snap one of my limbs in half. I can make money elsewhere. And so I set up on that other street, a block away from where the duet was singing. I want to find them and talk more and become a singing trio!
21 July, Part II
i. I had to go to Primark to exchange some tights. To do so, I had to walk by the hair accessories area. And guess what I saw! A piano headband!! Really! It's plastic and about an inch wide. Perfect. This was such a wonderful discovery, because I never go into Primark, or any other shops for that matter. I never would have seen it. I'm really surprised I didn't have that idea myself. Bought two, since one is bound to break. Here's a picture. Maybe I'll get some piano key Converse sneakers or something too!
1. An older man stopped in front of me, standing perfectly sideways. I assumed he was hesitant about whether or not he actually wanted to listen, but after a song he explained to me that he's pretty much deaf in the other ear. Aha!
2. Even though it's not ready yet, I tried out "Call Me Maybe." The good thing about busking near Princes St. is that there is no shortage of teenagers, and several seemed to recognize this "song."
3. One man on a bike recognized "What is Love?" Definitely glad to have it back!
4. There were hen parties everywhere! Most were pretty normal, although I saw one group in medical-themed costumes, and another in no-themed costumes. However, only one went by me, and they didn't acknowledge the song. At all. Lame. Denied! This reminded me, however, of Dieter's suggestion that I turn the wedding march into a funeral march. Or at least start playing it in minor. It would entertain me, at least, to do just that when they don't tip.
5. A possibly drunk guy asked "What tunes can you play?" but then didn't stick around to choose one or hear one!
6. I talked to a couple who saw my loan sign. The woman asked, "Have you got a job?" in a way that implied I really should, and I found myself defending my busking choice for the first time in a while!
7. There's a fellow who unicycles around Edinburgh. I see him every so often, and he sees me, but we've never talked. He went by today and just gave a nice, knowing wave, acknowledging that we both do see each other. We must be kindred spirits.
8. Someone walked by with his hand in his pocket, jiggling change. Of course, I thought I might get a cut, but I played a bad wrong note when he was right in front of me. He didn't tip. He wasn't going to anyway, but the timing was kind of funny.
9. It was really weird, everyone was wearing Madonna t-shirts. Sometimes I'll see a heightened amount of Ghostbusters (yep, that came out "Ghostbuskers" at first) or something shirts, but never this quantity. There must have been a sale on Madonna shirts somewhere. Weird.
10. Ah yes, my note say, "enthusiastic mullet tipper." That's all there is to the story, a guy in a mullet tipped me really enthusiastically. Like threw it in from a great distance.
11. I talked to a couple who kept asking me questions, but interrupting each other. One was asking how long it took to make the dress. They agreed that I would make a lot of money playing at Murrayfield. Like, the stadium? Weird. But okay.
12. Wonderful group of drunk people. Girl next to me dancing. A guy saw my sign and asked, clear as day, "Why are you smoking, Fophie?" (That would have been the name of this post if I didn't want the title to be about Madonna.) He asked where I was from, and I said, "The United States." He got excited, and declared, "There's a guy over there eating mussels and he's from LA!!" High five. No really, he put his hand up for a high five. The third woman excitedly told me that they had come in to see the Madonna concert that night at the Murrayfield stadium. Ah, suddenly it all made sense!
13. With this information about the reasoning behind the Madonna shirts, I pulled "Like a Prayer" out of the "semi-retired" and "to-learn" lists. I was able to wing it pretty well, and I was happy that a girl wearing an "I <3 Madge" shirt got her party to sing along. Instead of scanning the incoming pedestrians for hen parties or the like, I started scanning for Madonna shirts. Fun to have a nice diversion like this!
14. Three or four middle-aged people stopped by, and one man asked if I could do "Smoke on the Water." I did it very badly. The other man asked if I could do "Angels" by Robbie Williams, and I said no. His wife jested that he take his money back out of the box. They revealed as they departed that I look like one couple's daughter!
15. I witnessed a guy's embarrassing moment: he took something out of his pocket and something else fell out too. His "friend" was fortunately ahead of him, but he and I could both see that what he bent to pick up were CONDOMS. I decided a second too late that I ought to have commented. Hope they were put to use tonight! ;)
16. An older man stopped to listen wearing a red Ferrari shirt. Of course it was the car logo, but there is also an accordion brand called "Ferarri." He and I talked a bit, since he plays a button accordion that he bought used for £1,700. Damn. He's from Belfast, and is up for the weekend. We talked more, but I forget about what.
17. On his heels were two young men. The first asked if I could do "Stairway to Heaven." I cannot. Denied! (Get the reference?? I foreshadowed this by sneaking it in earlier too. "Denied!" was also in the running for Post Title, but Madonna trumps everything.) The second guy asked for Lionel Richie. Denied! Then Marvin Gaye. I tried "Heard it Through the Grapevine," but it didn't go well. I should learn it! I offered Al Green instead, so that worked. They invited me to come have a drink with them, selling themselves with a promise to sing karaoke. Almost tempting enough to pack up.
18. I can't read the next note. It might say "feathers." This would make sense, because red feathers from a hen party's boas kept floating by, but this shouldn't have made it into the notebook. Not sure what else it would be! Definitely starts with "fea."
19. It was strange, my pinky wasn't working! It has a very important part in the bass line of "Werewolves of London," one of the few songs where it has to push its own button. But today, for whatever reason, it just wasn't hitting it. Maybe it shrunk in the last week.
20. I got a great thumbs up from a kid. He was walking with his parents who didn't give me a second look, and his smile and gesture seemed so secretive and perhaps rebellious. Love that.
21. Two [gay?] guys came by me dancing, and yelled, "DO YOU NEED DANCERS??" Always! But don't tell Flaca.
22. Three separate parties asked me where to find restaurants: one a pub, one a Halal place, and the third a Chinese restaurant. The third party was seemingly Chinese. Come on, you're in Scotland, have some haggis!
23. Several ped-cabs were going by, preparing for Saturday night shenanigans. One driver looked familiar. He stopped to talk, and I remembered that he is Carlos, someone I knew in my very first stage of life in Edinburgh. I spent my first 10 days in a hostel, and befriended a bunch of Spanish people, especially Nacho. Carlos and Nacho are friends from home in Spain, and both came here for work. Small city, funny I hadn't seen him again sooner. He reported that Nacho is back in Spain.
24. For much of the afternoon I was set up outside a certain bakery. I was closest to big windows that show a glimpse into the kitchen, and I had an idea. I flipped to a blank page in my notebook and wrote, in big letters, "Can I have an unsold cupcake at 5:00? It's my birthday week!" I abandoned my stuff for a second to walk over, press the note against the window, and knock. One woman read it and gave me a thumbs up. All right!! I figured it was pressing my luck to write another note asking her to deliver it, so I packed up and went in at 5:00 to claim it. I explained it to the guy in front, and he was sympathetic but said they don't close until 6:00. Damn! And they were quite busy so they might sell out. Oh well, worth a try. It's not like I needed cake after two days of birthday!
25. My toes were really hurting! It was weird, I had socks under tights and usually it's slightly annoying but fine, but they really hurt today. Also, my face hurt. I thought it was just normal smiling, but remembered that I'm having allergies issues, so my sinuses are sore. Denied!
I was going to stop at 7:00. I was tired and I had blogging to do! But it was super busy and I was still making money, so I decided to have a break then play another set. However, the conditions weren't perfect after the break. There was one homeless person in the spot I had just vacated, and another in my first spot. I set up between the two, but a man came over and said he was about to set up there. I immediately backed down and we had a nice talk. Going to your spot and seeing someone you've never seen before in it is something I'm all too familiar with! This gentleman is named Gary, and is one of a couple guys who plays in this part of town in the evenings. It really is a whole other busking world, across town. Nice to have another friendly connection!
It also had slowed down a bit, probably since people were having dinner. I didn't want to go straight home since I had justified paying for some food with the fact that I'd do another set, so I decided to be brave and go to the Mile. Surely by 7:30 Heather would have left!
There were a couple guitar players out, but sure enough I got my spot. Awesome. Pretty slow on the Mile though, especially for a beautiful Saturday night.
26. I met a piper from Glasgow who plays a different kind of bagpipes. They're more typical of the lowlands, and they are fueled by an actual bellows, such as the kind you use at your fireplace. Cool! He showed me, they were quite magnificent.
27. I had to defend my job choice for a second time! "Three-year degree to be on the street busking?" Nope, FOUR-year degree!
Right away, I glanced to my left and saw that Heather was indeed there! Ahhhh! Not playing or anything, just talked to people. I immediately felt my body react; my heartbeat drowned out my accordion, I got lightheaded from all the extra adrenaline. I like to think of myself as a brave person; why does she scare me as much as she does? The positive effect of her presence was that I played well. I really focused on playing well and looking good to prove to her that I'm a competent busker. I also wanted to prove that I know the locals, and haven't just arrived in town, so I was glad when one of the vendors she had been talking to walked by and waved to me. King Louis was out and talking to her, so I was hoping he said something along the lines of, "Do you know Sophie? She's the best, super deserving of a good pitch, but don't mess with her!! If you make her mad then you'll have Barack Obama to deal with" or something. I texted Tom to see if he was out so he could come by and publicly display our friendship. Thank the stars up above, she didn't come and talk to me. By which I mean yell at me. I'm not sure what she would have said, but I practiced many responses. After less than an hour of playing my nerves got the better of me and I packed up. Escaped. Before she DID come talk to me. I considered doing a poor job packing up; just throwing everything in the box and carrying it, the wheels, and the accordion all loose while faking a very important phone call in Spanish and power-walking away, then fixing the setup behind the cathedral. Packing up gave her time when I wasn't playing, and thus in the position of power, to come assault me.
This evening session didn't do anything for my stories or income, but I'm hoping it will help in the long run having had Heather see me in action. Maybe she'll be more sympathetic. Or, more likely, maybe I'll be less scared. I just have to be so careful not to respond to her aggression with my own aggression, or lie and say I'm Swiss. She has been a good lesson to me in how to act towards other buskers. I don't terrify them, but I could definitely be nicer. We all have to get along!
Tomorrow I'm booked to play the Stockbridge market, yahoo! I was supposed to go last Sunday but didn't. Hope the rain holds off!
Till next time.
Saturday, 21 July, 2012
Naturally, the first stop was the Farmer's Market. However, after a week of tourism and birthday I let myself sleep in as late as I possibly could, which doesn't combine well with arriving at a morning market. In fact, I got there at 1:00 for a 2:00 end time, but everyone always packs up early. Oh well. Just a few notes:
1. A young couple recognized Twin Peaks and started dancing to it. Nice.
2. I had a nice long talk with an older gentleman with a perfect grandfatherly outfit including a tweed jacket and cap. He asked if I could play "Under Paris Skies." Nope. "Satin Doll." My quartet had sung it with the Clark University Jazz Ensemble (shamelessly napedropping), but my keyboard rendition of the Alto II line didn't satisfy him. His next requests were "Deil Among the Tailors" and "Triste Sourise," by the Black Isle Band. I showed him my set list and let him choose, and he commented that all those songs were too modern. I offered the ne'er-played "Never on Sunday" and "The Way You Look Tonight," but he chose "La Vie en Rose." Good choice, since it's one of my ace songs. Oh, and before I identified myself as American his guess for my ethnicity was Austrian. That's a new one!
3. As usual, I was next to the "Seriously Good Venison" stand, and I read their haggis sign more closely. I was amused by the catchphrase "Stag-geringly good haggis." Had I just played at the market today, this post would be called "Stag-geringly Good Accordion."
4. Luckily I wasn't too late for ALL of my kids. Brianna and her dad came, and she was dressed for summer! No more red raincoat; today she wore a purple sundress. I love that she just knows what to do. She came over and picked up Flaca and gave her dad the shakers. She had them switch jobs a few times, and did such a good job on both. I actually talked to the dad a bit this time. During "Wallace and Gromit" she stopped shaking and just looked right at the accordion, as if deep in thought. Her dad asked if she recognized the song and she indicated that she didn't, but it turned out they had watched some W&G that morning! Excellent choice.
And then the market closed. The venison vendor, not George, acknowledged my late arrival (as did Kat, "Good morning!" "Good AFTERNOON!") and teased me about having a crazy Friday night. Not so. Headed to Princes St. to do a couple errands and eat my lunch in the park before going to the Mile, but then I decided to chicken out and stay in New Town to play. Out of what I was chickening was of course dealing with Heather, the loon on the loom. If this was a territory war with long-term effects, I would be there dealing with it, getting yelled at, feeling scared, and putting my claim on the spot. However, there are about ten days left until the Fringe, six of which I'll be away for, then the spots are assigned for August. Then in September I assume I won't have much trouble! Therefore, it's not worth my time, and not worth the risk that Heather may snap one of my limbs in half. I can make money elsewhere. And so I set up on that other street, a block away from where the duet was singing. I want to find them and talk more and become a singing trio!
21 July, Part II
i. I had to go to Primark to exchange some tights. To do so, I had to walk by the hair accessories area. And guess what I saw! A piano headband!! Really! It's plastic and about an inch wide. Perfect. This was such a wonderful discovery, because I never go into Primark, or any other shops for that matter. I never would have seen it. I'm really surprised I didn't have that idea myself. Bought two, since one is bound to break. Here's a picture. Maybe I'll get some piano key Converse sneakers or something too!
1. An older man stopped in front of me, standing perfectly sideways. I assumed he was hesitant about whether or not he actually wanted to listen, but after a song he explained to me that he's pretty much deaf in the other ear. Aha!
2. Even though it's not ready yet, I tried out "Call Me Maybe." The good thing about busking near Princes St. is that there is no shortage of teenagers, and several seemed to recognize this "song."
3. One man on a bike recognized "What is Love?" Definitely glad to have it back!
4. There were hen parties everywhere! Most were pretty normal, although I saw one group in medical-themed costumes, and another in no-themed costumes. However, only one went by me, and they didn't acknowledge the song. At all. Lame. Denied! This reminded me, however, of Dieter's suggestion that I turn the wedding march into a funeral march. Or at least start playing it in minor. It would entertain me, at least, to do just that when they don't tip.
5. A possibly drunk guy asked "What tunes can you play?" but then didn't stick around to choose one or hear one!
6. I talked to a couple who saw my loan sign. The woman asked, "Have you got a job?" in a way that implied I really should, and I found myself defending my busking choice for the first time in a while!
7. There's a fellow who unicycles around Edinburgh. I see him every so often, and he sees me, but we've never talked. He went by today and just gave a nice, knowing wave, acknowledging that we both do see each other. We must be kindred spirits.
8. Someone walked by with his hand in his pocket, jiggling change. Of course, I thought I might get a cut, but I played a bad wrong note when he was right in front of me. He didn't tip. He wasn't going to anyway, but the timing was kind of funny.
9. It was really weird, everyone was wearing Madonna t-shirts. Sometimes I'll see a heightened amount of Ghostbusters (yep, that came out "Ghostbuskers" at first) or something shirts, but never this quantity. There must have been a sale on Madonna shirts somewhere. Weird.
10. Ah yes, my note say, "enthusiastic mullet tipper." That's all there is to the story, a guy in a mullet tipped me really enthusiastically. Like threw it in from a great distance.
11. I talked to a couple who kept asking me questions, but interrupting each other. One was asking how long it took to make the dress. They agreed that I would make a lot of money playing at Murrayfield. Like, the stadium? Weird. But okay.
12. Wonderful group of drunk people. Girl next to me dancing. A guy saw my sign and asked, clear as day, "Why are you smoking, Fophie?" (That would have been the name of this post if I didn't want the title to be about Madonna.) He asked where I was from, and I said, "The United States." He got excited, and declared, "There's a guy over there eating mussels and he's from LA!!" High five. No really, he put his hand up for a high five. The third woman excitedly told me that they had come in to see the Madonna concert that night at the Murrayfield stadium. Ah, suddenly it all made sense!
13. With this information about the reasoning behind the Madonna shirts, I pulled "Like a Prayer" out of the "semi-retired" and "to-learn" lists. I was able to wing it pretty well, and I was happy that a girl wearing an "I <3 Madge" shirt got her party to sing along. Instead of scanning the incoming pedestrians for hen parties or the like, I started scanning for Madonna shirts. Fun to have a nice diversion like this!
14. Three or four middle-aged people stopped by, and one man asked if I could do "Smoke on the Water." I did it very badly. The other man asked if I could do "Angels" by Robbie Williams, and I said no. His wife jested that he take his money back out of the box. They revealed as they departed that I look like one couple's daughter!
15. I witnessed a guy's embarrassing moment: he took something out of his pocket and something else fell out too. His "friend" was fortunately ahead of him, but he and I could both see that what he bent to pick up were CONDOMS. I decided a second too late that I ought to have commented. Hope they were put to use tonight! ;)
16. An older man stopped to listen wearing a red Ferrari shirt. Of course it was the car logo, but there is also an accordion brand called "Ferarri." He and I talked a bit, since he plays a button accordion that he bought used for £1,700. Damn. He's from Belfast, and is up for the weekend. We talked more, but I forget about what.
17. On his heels were two young men. The first asked if I could do "Stairway to Heaven." I cannot. Denied! (Get the reference?? I foreshadowed this by sneaking it in earlier too. "Denied!" was also in the running for Post Title, but Madonna trumps everything.) The second guy asked for Lionel Richie. Denied! Then Marvin Gaye. I tried "Heard it Through the Grapevine," but it didn't go well. I should learn it! I offered Al Green instead, so that worked. They invited me to come have a drink with them, selling themselves with a promise to sing karaoke. Almost tempting enough to pack up.
18. I can't read the next note. It might say "feathers." This would make sense, because red feathers from a hen party's boas kept floating by, but this shouldn't have made it into the notebook. Not sure what else it would be! Definitely starts with "fea."
19. It was strange, my pinky wasn't working! It has a very important part in the bass line of "Werewolves of London," one of the few songs where it has to push its own button. But today, for whatever reason, it just wasn't hitting it. Maybe it shrunk in the last week.
20. I got a great thumbs up from a kid. He was walking with his parents who didn't give me a second look, and his smile and gesture seemed so secretive and perhaps rebellious. Love that.
21. Two [gay?] guys came by me dancing, and yelled, "DO YOU NEED DANCERS??" Always! But don't tell Flaca.
22. Three separate parties asked me where to find restaurants: one a pub, one a Halal place, and the third a Chinese restaurant. The third party was seemingly Chinese. Come on, you're in Scotland, have some haggis!
23. Several ped-cabs were going by, preparing for Saturday night shenanigans. One driver looked familiar. He stopped to talk, and I remembered that he is Carlos, someone I knew in my very first stage of life in Edinburgh. I spent my first 10 days in a hostel, and befriended a bunch of Spanish people, especially Nacho. Carlos and Nacho are friends from home in Spain, and both came here for work. Small city, funny I hadn't seen him again sooner. He reported that Nacho is back in Spain.
24. For much of the afternoon I was set up outside a certain bakery. I was closest to big windows that show a glimpse into the kitchen, and I had an idea. I flipped to a blank page in my notebook and wrote, in big letters, "Can I have an unsold cupcake at 5:00? It's my birthday week!" I abandoned my stuff for a second to walk over, press the note against the window, and knock. One woman read it and gave me a thumbs up. All right!! I figured it was pressing my luck to write another note asking her to deliver it, so I packed up and went in at 5:00 to claim it. I explained it to the guy in front, and he was sympathetic but said they don't close until 6:00. Damn! And they were quite busy so they might sell out. Oh well, worth a try. It's not like I needed cake after two days of birthday!
25. My toes were really hurting! It was weird, I had socks under tights and usually it's slightly annoying but fine, but they really hurt today. Also, my face hurt. I thought it was just normal smiling, but remembered that I'm having allergies issues, so my sinuses are sore. Denied!
I was going to stop at 7:00. I was tired and I had blogging to do! But it was super busy and I was still making money, so I decided to have a break then play another set. However, the conditions weren't perfect after the break. There was one homeless person in the spot I had just vacated, and another in my first spot. I set up between the two, but a man came over and said he was about to set up there. I immediately backed down and we had a nice talk. Going to your spot and seeing someone you've never seen before in it is something I'm all too familiar with! This gentleman is named Gary, and is one of a couple guys who plays in this part of town in the evenings. It really is a whole other busking world, across town. Nice to have another friendly connection!
It also had slowed down a bit, probably since people were having dinner. I didn't want to go straight home since I had justified paying for some food with the fact that I'd do another set, so I decided to be brave and go to the Mile. Surely by 7:30 Heather would have left!
There were a couple guitar players out, but sure enough I got my spot. Awesome. Pretty slow on the Mile though, especially for a beautiful Saturday night.
26. I met a piper from Glasgow who plays a different kind of bagpipes. They're more typical of the lowlands, and they are fueled by an actual bellows, such as the kind you use at your fireplace. Cool! He showed me, they were quite magnificent.
27. I had to defend my job choice for a second time! "Three-year degree to be on the street busking?" Nope, FOUR-year degree!
Right away, I glanced to my left and saw that Heather was indeed there! Ahhhh! Not playing or anything, just talked to people. I immediately felt my body react; my heartbeat drowned out my accordion, I got lightheaded from all the extra adrenaline. I like to think of myself as a brave person; why does she scare me as much as she does? The positive effect of her presence was that I played well. I really focused on playing well and looking good to prove to her that I'm a competent busker. I also wanted to prove that I know the locals, and haven't just arrived in town, so I was glad when one of the vendors she had been talking to walked by and waved to me. King Louis was out and talking to her, so I was hoping he said something along the lines of, "Do you know Sophie? She's the best, super deserving of a good pitch, but don't mess with her!! If you make her mad then you'll have Barack Obama to deal with" or something. I texted Tom to see if he was out so he could come by and publicly display our friendship. Thank the stars up above, she didn't come and talk to me. By which I mean yell at me. I'm not sure what she would have said, but I practiced many responses. After less than an hour of playing my nerves got the better of me and I packed up. Escaped. Before she DID come talk to me. I considered doing a poor job packing up; just throwing everything in the box and carrying it, the wheels, and the accordion all loose while faking a very important phone call in Spanish and power-walking away, then fixing the setup behind the cathedral. Packing up gave her time when I wasn't playing, and thus in the position of power, to come assault me.
This evening session didn't do anything for my stories or income, but I'm hoping it will help in the long run having had Heather see me in action. Maybe she'll be more sympathetic. Or, more likely, maybe I'll be less scared. I just have to be so careful not to respond to her aggression with my own aggression, or lie and say I'm Swiss. She has been a good lesson to me in how to act towards other buskers. I don't terrify them, but I could definitely be nicer. We all have to get along!
Tomorrow I'm booked to play the Stockbridge market, yahoo! I was supposed to go last Sunday but didn't. Hope the rain holds off!
Till next time.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Loons on Looms
It's actually sunny outside! Woo-hoo! Saturday at 4:00 pm and I'm home, but we'll get to that. Lovely day at the market this morning. In fact, we don't really need any intro:
Saturday, 14 July 2012:
1. Got the first tip of the day from a little boy in a Tintin shirt. I complimented the shirt and he smiled, showing his perfect absence of front teeth. So cute.
2. A guy walked by in a "What Would Sheldon Do?" t-shirt, with a picture of the character from the TV show "The Big Bang Theory." I never watched this at home, but it's on TV here allll the time, so I it a bit now. Specifically, I know the theme song. But I couldn't quite remember how it went in time to attempt it for him.
3. Got a round of applause for "Chariots of Fire," which was nice because no one ever recognizes it!
4. A very good hen party went by. The usual matching black t-shirts with pink writing, necklaces with pink plastic beer tankards on them, bride wearing a veil and a sash. The unusual part was that they liked hearing the wedding march and tipped! Finally!
5. The regular Saturday kid Briana came by, dressed in her usual red. Did a round on the shakers, and with Flaca. She yells, "Make music!" between each song. Her dad reminded her to add please. Her dad also speculated that my arms must get sore. Yes, sir!
6. After Briana had demonstrated Flaca, a woman came up and asked if her son could have a turn, explaining that he was very shy. We coaxed him over and he shyly bounced Flaca a little. They're Greek! The woman complimented my dress, and said she knows I must have made it because of Flaca's matching one. I confirmed this, and picked up my purple jumper to show that we usually match even better. The woman said I need to get a purple hat. Indeed I do. Then before they walked away she translated all this for her son. I liked that.
7. I talked to a nice older couple who told me that there is an accordion festival or something going on on some islands. They told me about an accordion player named Mhairaid Green who I am to look up. Will do!
8. Saw a guy with a Muppet Show t-shirt and I realized I should learn the theme song.
9. A woman saw my loans sign and said, "Looks like you'll be playing them for a while!" Used the wordplay right back at me!
10. There's a family who comes every week who I've gotten to know. Today was just dad and the toddler girl. Dad was chatting with someone, and the girl was bored, so she kept taking steps closer to me. Finally I proposed she accompany me on the shakers, which she did. And Flaca. Of course, as a regular, she knows the drill. I liked that she was able to be entertained while dad was chatting, and that dad knows me well enough to trust me with her. Passersby always like seeing the kids in action!
11. My O fell off! I think this is the last letter of "Iorio" that has fallen off my accordion. It's been a while since the last one! I'll have a gluing party this afternoon, since Flaca's hat is about to fall off as well.
12. I forgot this from yesterday, but in the morning at theatre rehearsal we decided that I'm going to play "Twist and Shout" during one of the plays. I realized how easy it is, and tried it out on the street that evening. It got a good reaction, people were smiling. I thought one guy was doing the twist, but it turns out he was just walking funny. It'd be nice if I can get Flaca to twist!
Then, I did the regular routine of going to the Royal Mile to set up again. Big mistake! Would have been much better for my sanity, and time, to just go home. It was super busy. Lots of pedestrians, lots of buskers. This awesome rock band with a violin was outside the cathedral, Todd was doing a show, Elaine was out. But the problem was, of course, my pitch. There were four things set up at the arches. Usually even two is pushing it. There was a stand doing Indian henna, there was Jackie, there were the cousins and moms, and then a new lady with a big mohawk weaving on a loom while singing. I talked to Rob the photographer while I formulated a plan, and he warned me that that woman is really terrible. That if someone photographs without tipping she chases them down the street. I couldn't imagine she'd be any worse than the moms. She was.
I walked towards her, just to ask how long she was going to be there, but before I said anything she just yelled, "I'm singing here, hen!" Not sure what "hen" means in this case. "Yeah, I was just wondering how long you'd be there." "All day." "Well you can only do two hours." She flipped out. Literally started screaming, "That's your rule, is it?? I don't have rules." etc. etc. Not even going to attempt an actual transcription. She was actually walking around then, not sure to where, and just ran away from me.
I thought about setting up on Elaine's other side, but decided it wasn't worth it. Competing with the cousins, the rock band, and this a-hole wouldn't make me too much money, and it would be a better use of my time to cross out some items on my "professional development" list to improve future tips. I talked to Elaine on my way out. Mama hen, taking care of her busking babies. We were looking across the street and saw mohawk lady coming towards us. I told Elaine, "She's coming to yell at me." But Elaine insisted she was leaving. I was actually cowering in fear as she stomped over; I just wanted to hide under Elaine's dress like in the Nutcracker.
I was right about that one. She had abandoned her post and crossed the street just to yell at me. "Are you telling this lady to move too? Telling her she can only stay two hours?" Went on to tell everyone within a mile radius that she's been doing this for years and that's never been a rule, and here I am coming from America (with a proper infection of disdain) and giving her my rules. Of course she wouldn't let Elaine or me get a word in edgewise. It actually was quite scary, with her huge mohawk and loud voice. I was sure she was going to punch me. And of course she thought this was my first day off the boat, giving busking a try. Maybe she's been doing it for years, but I haven't seen her once in six months. Okay, you get it, I'm getting angry again just thinking about it. I'll happily give up my remaining Saturday afternoons if I don't have to deal with her. The moms over there looked like angels in comparison. But, yes, I really wanted to report her and see her handcuffed and dragged out of town, yelling "But I've been doing this for years!" while I cheerfully played at MY spot. I'm really surprised she has gotten away with harassing people and is still allowed out at all. Any insight, Pockets?
It did that thing when I was walking away where it's sunny but it rains for a second. I was just really hoping there were a few magical busking fairies left in town from last night who would make it downpour. No such luck yet. I've dealt with assholes in this line of work, but I don't usually get as shaken up as I did today. Just glad I had Mama Elaine there to comfort me and encourage me to play anyway! (Here's Elaine, by the way: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elaine_Davidson )
So now I'm home, in daylight, and I'm going to get to work on things. Good to rest my arms. Hopefully tomorrow I can do the Stockbridge market!
Saturday, 14 July 2012:
1. Got the first tip of the day from a little boy in a Tintin shirt. I complimented the shirt and he smiled, showing his perfect absence of front teeth. So cute.
2. A guy walked by in a "What Would Sheldon Do?" t-shirt, with a picture of the character from the TV show "The Big Bang Theory." I never watched this at home, but it's on TV here allll the time, so I it a bit now. Specifically, I know the theme song. But I couldn't quite remember how it went in time to attempt it for him.
3. Got a round of applause for "Chariots of Fire," which was nice because no one ever recognizes it!
4. A very good hen party went by. The usual matching black t-shirts with pink writing, necklaces with pink plastic beer tankards on them, bride wearing a veil and a sash. The unusual part was that they liked hearing the wedding march and tipped! Finally!
5. The regular Saturday kid Briana came by, dressed in her usual red. Did a round on the shakers, and with Flaca. She yells, "Make music!" between each song. Her dad reminded her to add please. Her dad also speculated that my arms must get sore. Yes, sir!
6. After Briana had demonstrated Flaca, a woman came up and asked if her son could have a turn, explaining that he was very shy. We coaxed him over and he shyly bounced Flaca a little. They're Greek! The woman complimented my dress, and said she knows I must have made it because of Flaca's matching one. I confirmed this, and picked up my purple jumper to show that we usually match even better. The woman said I need to get a purple hat. Indeed I do. Then before they walked away she translated all this for her son. I liked that.
7. I talked to a nice older couple who told me that there is an accordion festival or something going on on some islands. They told me about an accordion player named Mhairaid Green who I am to look up. Will do!
8. Saw a guy with a Muppet Show t-shirt and I realized I should learn the theme song.
9. A woman saw my loans sign and said, "Looks like you'll be playing them for a while!" Used the wordplay right back at me!
10. There's a family who comes every week who I've gotten to know. Today was just dad and the toddler girl. Dad was chatting with someone, and the girl was bored, so she kept taking steps closer to me. Finally I proposed she accompany me on the shakers, which she did. And Flaca. Of course, as a regular, she knows the drill. I liked that she was able to be entertained while dad was chatting, and that dad knows me well enough to trust me with her. Passersby always like seeing the kids in action!
11. My O fell off! I think this is the last letter of "Iorio" that has fallen off my accordion. It's been a while since the last one! I'll have a gluing party this afternoon, since Flaca's hat is about to fall off as well.
12. I forgot this from yesterday, but in the morning at theatre rehearsal we decided that I'm going to play "Twist and Shout" during one of the plays. I realized how easy it is, and tried it out on the street that evening. It got a good reaction, people were smiling. I thought one guy was doing the twist, but it turns out he was just walking funny. It'd be nice if I can get Flaca to twist!
Then, I did the regular routine of going to the Royal Mile to set up again. Big mistake! Would have been much better for my sanity, and time, to just go home. It was super busy. Lots of pedestrians, lots of buskers. This awesome rock band with a violin was outside the cathedral, Todd was doing a show, Elaine was out. But the problem was, of course, my pitch. There were four things set up at the arches. Usually even two is pushing it. There was a stand doing Indian henna, there was Jackie, there were the cousins and moms, and then a new lady with a big mohawk weaving on a loom while singing. I talked to Rob the photographer while I formulated a plan, and he warned me that that woman is really terrible. That if someone photographs without tipping she chases them down the street. I couldn't imagine she'd be any worse than the moms. She was.
I walked towards her, just to ask how long she was going to be there, but before I said anything she just yelled, "I'm singing here, hen!" Not sure what "hen" means in this case. "Yeah, I was just wondering how long you'd be there." "All day." "Well you can only do two hours." She flipped out. Literally started screaming, "That's your rule, is it?? I don't have rules." etc. etc. Not even going to attempt an actual transcription. She was actually walking around then, not sure to where, and just ran away from me.
I thought about setting up on Elaine's other side, but decided it wasn't worth it. Competing with the cousins, the rock band, and this a-hole wouldn't make me too much money, and it would be a better use of my time to cross out some items on my "professional development" list to improve future tips. I talked to Elaine on my way out. Mama hen, taking care of her busking babies. We were looking across the street and saw mohawk lady coming towards us. I told Elaine, "She's coming to yell at me." But Elaine insisted she was leaving. I was actually cowering in fear as she stomped over; I just wanted to hide under Elaine's dress like in the Nutcracker.
I was right about that one. She had abandoned her post and crossed the street just to yell at me. "Are you telling this lady to move too? Telling her she can only stay two hours?" Went on to tell everyone within a mile radius that she's been doing this for years and that's never been a rule, and here I am coming from America (with a proper infection of disdain) and giving her my rules. Of course she wouldn't let Elaine or me get a word in edgewise. It actually was quite scary, with her huge mohawk and loud voice. I was sure she was going to punch me. And of course she thought this was my first day off the boat, giving busking a try. Maybe she's been doing it for years, but I haven't seen her once in six months. Okay, you get it, I'm getting angry again just thinking about it. I'll happily give up my remaining Saturday afternoons if I don't have to deal with her. The moms over there looked like angels in comparison. But, yes, I really wanted to report her and see her handcuffed and dragged out of town, yelling "But I've been doing this for years!" while I cheerfully played at MY spot. I'm really surprised she has gotten away with harassing people and is still allowed out at all. Any insight, Pockets?
It did that thing when I was walking away where it's sunny but it rains for a second. I was just really hoping there were a few magical busking fairies left in town from last night who would make it downpour. No such luck yet. I've dealt with assholes in this line of work, but I don't usually get as shaken up as I did today. Just glad I had Mama Elaine there to comfort me and encourage me to play anyway! (Here's Elaine, by the way: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elaine_Davidson )
So now I'm home, in daylight, and I'm going to get to work on things. Good to rest my arms. Hopefully tomorrow I can do the Stockbridge market!
Friday, July 13, 2012
Friday the 13th
Today was an absolutely amazing day of busking. The kind of day that rearranges the best days of busking I've ever had. Way up there. I honestly think there was some sort of magic in the air; an absurd amount of good things happened. Maybe the busking fairies come out? I didn't even realize it was Friday the 13th until I got home. As a generally lucky person, such a day could have the opposite effect on me (but it didn't make Lorna's hen party tip me).
I wasn't planning to busk. I was going to rehearsal for the Theatre Tasters, and afterwards I figured I would come back, do yesterday's blog post, and get started on Flaca's contraption. Save my wrist for tomorrow, which is Saturday after all! Butttt I threw my dress in my bag just in case.
The decision to play was quite spontaneous. I decided against it, but it was relatively nice out as I was heading home so I figured an hour or so wouldn't hurt. I got to the Mile and had my pick of spots. A perk of showing up at 5:30. Tom was just starting a show. I secretly changed and got to work.
I didn't really feel like I was truly busking, since it was so impromptu. I had my dress, but I hadn't brought my purple jumper, so I looked a bit unkempt in my ratty old blue one. And I didn't match Flaca. Wore my boots, usually I wear my Mary-Janes. Wrong earrings. Little things like that. No makeup. Forgot Flaca's box, so she just sat in my box. But it mattered not.
You will soon see all the fun interactions, but mainly everything was so damn positive. People were smiling, tipping, being respectful. Just such a nice vibe in the air. Everyone was getting business, too. The ghosts tours going by were packed, and Jackie constantly had some hair to wrap.
In conclusion (well, of the introduction), I'm so glad I decided to go out. And here is exactly why (scroll to the bold one if you get bored):
Friday, 13 July, 2012
1. It all started with three Russian youths, sisters, I reckon. They tipped me so much. The oldest dropped in a £10, and the others left showers of coins. The youngest had union jack nail polish, well played. This was the first indication that there was magic in the air, I rarely get bills here, let alone two-digit ones. They asked if I was Russian and confirmed that they were. I told them I know one Russian song, and played the Tetris theme. (Ohhh so bad, but it's originally a Russian folk song called "Korobeiniki," so I can go with that).
2. A girl about my age dropped something in, and said, "It's not much, but I hope it helps you with your loan!" Again, not a demographic that usually says much to me. Something was seriously up tonight!
3. Some folks came by and tipped. The man was holding flowers, and I jested, "Oh, you brought me flowers too??" and they politely chuckled. But I'm trying to joke more so even a lame one I can and will recycle is progress.
4. Here is the one negative comment. Sometimes I'll mention how it's annoying when people absentmindedly jiggle the change in their pocket while walking by, but not tip. Well today someone went as far as pulling it out to look at it without tipping! Come on.
5. I got some applause for "What is Love?" That is all. Exciting since it's new again.
6. So on Canada Day I played "O Canada" for every Canada shirt I saw. Well, I still see Canada gear, and I realized there's no reason to not always strike up that song. So I did today, to a boy with a Canada sweatshirt, but totally started in a bad key and messed it up. But it was recognizable and the mom liked it. Will have to try that again.
7. I guess my sign is persuasive, since a guy tipped and said, "I have 26 grand in student loans, why am I giving you 50p?"
8. Someone called "The Final Countdown" "Brilliant." Yeahh, glad these pop songs are working out!
9. Every once in a while, when people are posing for photos with me, I'll encourage them to put a hand on the keyboard of the accordion for the shoot. But today, a man had the same idea himself! Cool.
10. The main event for today. The event that warmed my heart, broadened my smile, and made me glad I didn't have eye makeup on. I don't want to go into too much detail, since this was so deep and meaningful and I feel bad categorizing it with the trivial things that happen. Also, on the offchance that the person involves winds up seeing this, I don't want him to think I interpreted it lightheartedly.
Anyway, a fellow walked by a few times, stopped to listen, then handed me a folded paper. What was written on it was a really nice note, thanking me for my contribution to the world, basically. But, like, really nice wording, and corny, in a good way. And perfect spelling and grammar, which is a good way to win me over. If anyone's truly interested, I'll be happy to share the wording in a private message. Also, the note contained some paper money. Very generous of him. I'll be honest, he's super cute and I was disappointed that there was no phone number, but even without it I was bursting with joy. Giving people notes is MY thing, it's awesome to be on the other side of it for a change. Going to keep this one safe.
11. Almost equally heartwarming was how many Asians tipped me. I know it's terrible to call this "news," and some Asians do tip, but the vast majority of the people who interact with me through photos, smiles, gestures, and waves, then don't tip, are Asian. Especially photos. But an actually surprising number of Asians did take their wallets out right away today, even without photographing. Good work, magical busking fairies.
12. Speaking of which, I really wish it was easier to know for certain who is Japanese! I really want to impress them with my phrases/songs (I have a bit of a background with Japanese culture), but I don't want to offend Koreans, for example. If I hear them talking to each other it's in the bag, but that actually doesn't happen much. Maybe someone will wear a Hiroshima Carp [baseball] jersey. Then I can actually do their rally call!
13. Bills. I mentioned this, but I'll give it its own number. At home, it's not rare that I'll bring home a $5 bill. But here, it IS rare to get a £5 bill. It happens maybe once or twice a month. But today was just absurd, the £10 from the Russians, the bundle from the stranger, and four other fivers! Really surprising. And two of the fivers were from Asians!! (Please let me know if my blog is offensive to any racial group. I try to point out these things sensitively, but I can't judge my own apparent sensitivity.) (Also, I try not to talk about money in the posts. Obviously, talking about the bills I got does confirm some of the earnings I made, which makes today an exception. But today was such an abnormal day!)
14. Since we're on the subject, one of the Asian men who left me a bill asked where I study. I said, "The United States," and he said, "Oh," in a sort of disappointed way. Damn, maybe I should have said, "Edinburgh."
15. Some people stopped, and the tall guy looked vaguely familiar. He held up a pound, and put it in the box. Okay. Then said, "You played the Wedding March for us yesterday." So I had! My favorite Edinburgh newlyweds! The groom had worn colorful Converse sneakers the previous day, and today he wore yellow ones while his wife wore light green ones, I think. I asked them how many pairs of Converse they have between them, and they said, "too many."
16. I stopped and stretched for a minute, and some people clapped. Hmm.
17. It was reeeeeally cold! 11c now, so 51f, and not much warmer before. I just had the one jumper, and it wasn't enough! I had to rub my hands together and breathe on them, and even took a break to do jumping jacks at one point. If anything is eerie about the day, it was that. Except not, since it's been like that all "summer."
18. I also got hungry, since I hadn't planned for dinner, and the only food I had on me was frozen berries that I had bought thinking I was going home. Just sort of funny because when you're freezing and hungry for dinner, frozen berries are literally the last thing you'd want to eat.
19. I recycled my new hair wrap joke. If a person (usually little girl) has long hair, she's naturally at Jackie's hair wrap stand for a while. So when the family gets up and walks by, I compliment the hair wrap. Today it was two little girls with long hair, so I asked them if they thought I should get one. This is, of course, a joke, because I recently cut off all my hair and a hair wrap would look quite silly. The dad played along, suggested I get a few orange ones to look like fire. But Jackie caught me totally recycling this joke from a couple days ago, so I had to come clean that it wasn't the last time she'd be hearing it either. I love her, for the record.
20. A man with an American accent asked how to get to Sandy Bell's. We actually talked quite a bit, about renting a car and driving on the wrong side of the road, buskers in Galway, etc. Turns out he's from Hartford, and now lives in Sonoma County in California. So we're neighbors on both coasts! Pretttty cool.
21. "Was that the Stones?" Indeed it was, young man! "Paint it Black" has generally been getting a good reaction, mostly through facial expressions, but it was nice to have a verbal acknowledgement! I told this guy about the "Hey There Delilah" comment from yesterday, and he was rightfully outraged.
22. Here's a musical/technical note: I realized today that an octave on the accordion keyboard is, in fact, smaller than an octave on a piano. Because the keys are smaller. So I realized both that I can land the octave on my fourth finger, or just sneak a finger down in the middle to make it much easier to progress through octaves, as I do on occasion. Coooooool.
23. On Tuesday, was it? Wednesday? (I don't usually busk this much, all the days are running together!) I ran into a family from my hometown. And now I keep running into the son! I saw him yesterday, then again today. Even cooler than running into an Amherst person once is running into one repeatedly. I'll probably see him a few more times.
24. A man said something that was clearly French, and not something I knew. Sounded like "Saint-Säens." So my obvious response was "Oui." But then I realized the guy had just said "sounds good." Probably with only a Scottish accent. And I had said ''yes." What a douchie response!
25. Guess what today was? Friday! So I didn't have to skip over "Friday" on my set list! Played it loud and proud, and one girl officially recognized it (more than just nodding or smiling). Commented on it being an appropriate song for today.
26. I played "Oh Danny Boy" and a man sang along, a little bit. An American. We talked quite a bit, and it was clear that he hadn't picked up on my nationality. "......., that's an American movie..." "I'm from Virginia, in the United States." Yup, that's where it is. Thought that was funny.
27. I noticed a lot of people wearing the typical tourist sweatshirts, saying "Edinburgh" or just "Scotland," or "Edinburgh University." I didn't think much of this statistic until I started shivering and remembered that this is people's summer holiday. They probably all overestimated the temperature and had to buy warm things here!
28. There were lots of ghost tours, since it was the evening, and I realized there are probably "ghost" songs I can be playing. Anything come to mind?
29. Sorry Tom, maybe one day you'll say something and I won't put it in the blog! Tom stops by to chat after his shows, and I always forget where in the set list I had been when it's time to get back to it. I ask Tom what I had been playing, explaining that I must determine what comes next, and his answer is always, "Paint it Black!" It's never where I was, but I love his enthusiasm for the new song, and I love playing it so much that I do it anyway. It's such a fun song that I can't imagine Jackie minds breaking the rotation.
I think that's it! I was so euphoric as I packed up around 9:00. I felt so great about busking, so proud of it and inspired by it and so NOT bored of it, for a change. The note on its own was enough to achieve this sentiment, but the other tips, the smiles, and the general reaction all boosted my morale even more. I sort of felt like Jimmy Stewart at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life." Having a big day like today was so worth not getting Flaca ready, not opening my accordion to blow on the F and D and hope they tune themselves, nor resting my wrist. Right, I could have kept going to get the drunk crowds, but my arms were killing me. Oh, you should see my arm muscles. I've never played as much accordion as I'm playing now, and it's paying off. Back out tomorrow for a big Saturday! Time to get some sleep.
I wasn't planning to busk. I was going to rehearsal for the Theatre Tasters, and afterwards I figured I would come back, do yesterday's blog post, and get started on Flaca's contraption. Save my wrist for tomorrow, which is Saturday after all! Butttt I threw my dress in my bag just in case.
The decision to play was quite spontaneous. I decided against it, but it was relatively nice out as I was heading home so I figured an hour or so wouldn't hurt. I got to the Mile and had my pick of spots. A perk of showing up at 5:30. Tom was just starting a show. I secretly changed and got to work.
I didn't really feel like I was truly busking, since it was so impromptu. I had my dress, but I hadn't brought my purple jumper, so I looked a bit unkempt in my ratty old blue one. And I didn't match Flaca. Wore my boots, usually I wear my Mary-Janes. Wrong earrings. Little things like that. No makeup. Forgot Flaca's box, so she just sat in my box. But it mattered not.
You will soon see all the fun interactions, but mainly everything was so damn positive. People were smiling, tipping, being respectful. Just such a nice vibe in the air. Everyone was getting business, too. The ghosts tours going by were packed, and Jackie constantly had some hair to wrap.
In conclusion (well, of the introduction), I'm so glad I decided to go out. And here is exactly why (scroll to the bold one if you get bored):
Friday, 13 July, 2012
1. It all started with three Russian youths, sisters, I reckon. They tipped me so much. The oldest dropped in a £10, and the others left showers of coins. The youngest had union jack nail polish, well played. This was the first indication that there was magic in the air, I rarely get bills here, let alone two-digit ones. They asked if I was Russian and confirmed that they were. I told them I know one Russian song, and played the Tetris theme. (Ohhh so bad, but it's originally a Russian folk song called "Korobeiniki," so I can go with that).
2. A girl about my age dropped something in, and said, "It's not much, but I hope it helps you with your loan!" Again, not a demographic that usually says much to me. Something was seriously up tonight!
3. Some folks came by and tipped. The man was holding flowers, and I jested, "Oh, you brought me flowers too??" and they politely chuckled. But I'm trying to joke more so even a lame one I can and will recycle is progress.
4. Here is the one negative comment. Sometimes I'll mention how it's annoying when people absentmindedly jiggle the change in their pocket while walking by, but not tip. Well today someone went as far as pulling it out to look at it without tipping! Come on.
5. I got some applause for "What is Love?" That is all. Exciting since it's new again.
6. So on Canada Day I played "O Canada" for every Canada shirt I saw. Well, I still see Canada gear, and I realized there's no reason to not always strike up that song. So I did today, to a boy with a Canada sweatshirt, but totally started in a bad key and messed it up. But it was recognizable and the mom liked it. Will have to try that again.
7. I guess my sign is persuasive, since a guy tipped and said, "I have 26 grand in student loans, why am I giving you 50p?"
8. Someone called "The Final Countdown" "Brilliant." Yeahh, glad these pop songs are working out!
9. Every once in a while, when people are posing for photos with me, I'll encourage them to put a hand on the keyboard of the accordion for the shoot. But today, a man had the same idea himself! Cool.
10. The main event for today. The event that warmed my heart, broadened my smile, and made me glad I didn't have eye makeup on. I don't want to go into too much detail, since this was so deep and meaningful and I feel bad categorizing it with the trivial things that happen. Also, on the offchance that the person involves winds up seeing this, I don't want him to think I interpreted it lightheartedly.
Anyway, a fellow walked by a few times, stopped to listen, then handed me a folded paper. What was written on it was a really nice note, thanking me for my contribution to the world, basically. But, like, really nice wording, and corny, in a good way. And perfect spelling and grammar, which is a good way to win me over. If anyone's truly interested, I'll be happy to share the wording in a private message. Also, the note contained some paper money. Very generous of him. I'll be honest, he's super cute and I was disappointed that there was no phone number, but even without it I was bursting with joy. Giving people notes is MY thing, it's awesome to be on the other side of it for a change. Going to keep this one safe.
11. Almost equally heartwarming was how many Asians tipped me. I know it's terrible to call this "news," and some Asians do tip, but the vast majority of the people who interact with me through photos, smiles, gestures, and waves, then don't tip, are Asian. Especially photos. But an actually surprising number of Asians did take their wallets out right away today, even without photographing. Good work, magical busking fairies.
12. Speaking of which, I really wish it was easier to know for certain who is Japanese! I really want to impress them with my phrases/songs (I have a bit of a background with Japanese culture), but I don't want to offend Koreans, for example. If I hear them talking to each other it's in the bag, but that actually doesn't happen much. Maybe someone will wear a Hiroshima Carp [baseball] jersey. Then I can actually do their rally call!
13. Bills. I mentioned this, but I'll give it its own number. At home, it's not rare that I'll bring home a $5 bill. But here, it IS rare to get a £5 bill. It happens maybe once or twice a month. But today was just absurd, the £10 from the Russians, the bundle from the stranger, and four other fivers! Really surprising. And two of the fivers were from Asians!! (Please let me know if my blog is offensive to any racial group. I try to point out these things sensitively, but I can't judge my own apparent sensitivity.) (Also, I try not to talk about money in the posts. Obviously, talking about the bills I got does confirm some of the earnings I made, which makes today an exception. But today was such an abnormal day!)
14. Since we're on the subject, one of the Asian men who left me a bill asked where I study. I said, "The United States," and he said, "Oh," in a sort of disappointed way. Damn, maybe I should have said, "Edinburgh."
15. Some people stopped, and the tall guy looked vaguely familiar. He held up a pound, and put it in the box. Okay. Then said, "You played the Wedding March for us yesterday." So I had! My favorite Edinburgh newlyweds! The groom had worn colorful Converse sneakers the previous day, and today he wore yellow ones while his wife wore light green ones, I think. I asked them how many pairs of Converse they have between them, and they said, "too many."
16. I stopped and stretched for a minute, and some people clapped. Hmm.
17. It was reeeeeally cold! 11c now, so 51f, and not much warmer before. I just had the one jumper, and it wasn't enough! I had to rub my hands together and breathe on them, and even took a break to do jumping jacks at one point. If anything is eerie about the day, it was that. Except not, since it's been like that all "summer."
18. I also got hungry, since I hadn't planned for dinner, and the only food I had on me was frozen berries that I had bought thinking I was going home. Just sort of funny because when you're freezing and hungry for dinner, frozen berries are literally the last thing you'd want to eat.
19. I recycled my new hair wrap joke. If a person (usually little girl) has long hair, she's naturally at Jackie's hair wrap stand for a while. So when the family gets up and walks by, I compliment the hair wrap. Today it was two little girls with long hair, so I asked them if they thought I should get one. This is, of course, a joke, because I recently cut off all my hair and a hair wrap would look quite silly. The dad played along, suggested I get a few orange ones to look like fire. But Jackie caught me totally recycling this joke from a couple days ago, so I had to come clean that it wasn't the last time she'd be hearing it either. I love her, for the record.
20. A man with an American accent asked how to get to Sandy Bell's. We actually talked quite a bit, about renting a car and driving on the wrong side of the road, buskers in Galway, etc. Turns out he's from Hartford, and now lives in Sonoma County in California. So we're neighbors on both coasts! Pretttty cool.
21. "Was that the Stones?" Indeed it was, young man! "Paint it Black" has generally been getting a good reaction, mostly through facial expressions, but it was nice to have a verbal acknowledgement! I told this guy about the "Hey There Delilah" comment from yesterday, and he was rightfully outraged.
22. Here's a musical/technical note: I realized today that an octave on the accordion keyboard is, in fact, smaller than an octave on a piano. Because the keys are smaller. So I realized both that I can land the octave on my fourth finger, or just sneak a finger down in the middle to make it much easier to progress through octaves, as I do on occasion. Coooooool.
23. On Tuesday, was it? Wednesday? (I don't usually busk this much, all the days are running together!) I ran into a family from my hometown. And now I keep running into the son! I saw him yesterday, then again today. Even cooler than running into an Amherst person once is running into one repeatedly. I'll probably see him a few more times.
24. A man said something that was clearly French, and not something I knew. Sounded like "Saint-Säens." So my obvious response was "Oui." But then I realized the guy had just said "sounds good." Probably with only a Scottish accent. And I had said ''yes." What a douchie response!
25. Guess what today was? Friday! So I didn't have to skip over "Friday" on my set list! Played it loud and proud, and one girl officially recognized it (more than just nodding or smiling). Commented on it being an appropriate song for today.
26. I played "Oh Danny Boy" and a man sang along, a little bit. An American. We talked quite a bit, and it was clear that he hadn't picked up on my nationality. "......., that's an American movie..." "I'm from Virginia, in the United States." Yup, that's where it is. Thought that was funny.
27. I noticed a lot of people wearing the typical tourist sweatshirts, saying "Edinburgh" or just "Scotland," or "Edinburgh University." I didn't think much of this statistic until I started shivering and remembered that this is people's summer holiday. They probably all overestimated the temperature and had to buy warm things here!
28. There were lots of ghost tours, since it was the evening, and I realized there are probably "ghost" songs I can be playing. Anything come to mind?
29. Sorry Tom, maybe one day you'll say something and I won't put it in the blog! Tom stops by to chat after his shows, and I always forget where in the set list I had been when it's time to get back to it. I ask Tom what I had been playing, explaining that I must determine what comes next, and his answer is always, "Paint it Black!" It's never where I was, but I love his enthusiasm for the new song, and I love playing it so much that I do it anyway. It's such a fun song that I can't imagine Jackie minds breaking the rotation.
I think that's it! I was so euphoric as I packed up around 9:00. I felt so great about busking, so proud of it and inspired by it and so NOT bored of it, for a change. The note on its own was enough to achieve this sentiment, but the other tips, the smiles, and the general reaction all boosted my morale even more. I sort of felt like Jimmy Stewart at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life." Having a big day like today was so worth not getting Flaca ready, not opening my accordion to blow on the F and D and hope they tune themselves, nor resting my wrist. Right, I could have kept going to get the drunk crowds, but my arms were killing me. Oh, you should see my arm muscles. I've never played as much accordion as I'm playing now, and it's paying off. Back out tomorrow for a big Saturday! Time to get some sleep.
"'Hey There Delilah' is Worth a Tip"
Yesterday was a completely dry day. Didn't rain at all! That's great, right? Yes, however, it meant that everyone and their mother was out busking. Okay, that's an overstatement, but I didn't have the ease getting my usual spot that I have recently. The other violin guy was on one earplug (which I since learned is called a bollard), and the cousins were at my spot. Argh. Todd was doing a show.
I nicely went up and asked how long they were going to be there. Same old routine. "All day." "Well you can only stay two hours." "Come back at 4:30 and you can play for an hour." "No, I'm going to come back when your time is up and play for my allotted two hours." I really hate having to be firm with them in front of the daughters! I asked how long they'd been there, and naturally the mother said "Not long." As in, a few minutes. Total lie. I know this was a lie because another performer told me that they had been out when he arrived, like an hour and half before. "Few minutes" indeed. This wouldn't piss me off quite so much if there weren't young, budding minds at stake. These adult sisters are teaching their children that the way to succeed is to lie, cheat, and be aggressive. Before I got their attention I watched for a minute, and was saddened by the accordion player's obviously fake smile. The violin player wasn't even bothering to smile, but her cousin caught her eye and reminded her to.
I set up outside the cathedral, but took Todd's advice to join the violinists' tradition of standing on a bollard to play. And so I did! It was much harder to balance than I expected, but it was cool to be that high up. Still got crap tips though. I need my pitch!
When 3:30 came around I hopped down and went over to inform the cousins that their time was up. Of course they all ignored me as I stood there, and I had to interrupt a song. Both moms were there, in full aggressive mode. They pretty much ignored me, brushing me off as they said, "No, we started at 2:30 so you can come back at 4:30." I called them on the fact that a witness said they had set up earlier, and they didn't argue with it. "And so that means it's time to move to a different pitch." I was really trying to stay calm. "Okay we'll just play till 4:00 then." A statement, not even a question. For fuck's sake (as I've learned to say)! I had to be quite firm, and one of the moms said, "Well when we come out and you're here we'll do the same to you." Oooh, a threat? "Naturally," I replied, "since we're only allowed two hours." This just boils my blood so much. These poor, poor girls. A police officer gave me a printed copy of the guidelines recently; I'm going to try to dig it up and hand it over to them. I really want to tattle to the authorities that they're being assholes, but I don't want to push my luck. They left entirely, and then set up in front of the cathedral. The thing is, their child labor tactics will make money anywhere in town, whereas I do significantly better at that pitch.
When they came back at 5:30, I obediently packed up my stuff without a word. That's how it's done. But I got in a pretty solid two hours, and there was a stretch where I didn't have to listen to them. Here we go:
Thursday, 12 July 2012:
1. When I was still by the cathedral, a bride and groom walked by, on their way to wed. They were the best dressed couple I've seen in a while: the bride wore a very nice white dress, but the groom wore his kilt in a pink-themed tartan, a pink sporran, pink vest, and colorful converse sneakers. I actually had to make sure it was, in fact, a woman he was about to marry. They smiled at the wedding march, which was way more epic atop a bollard. (Going to say "bollard" a lot now.)
2. I was playing "Twin Peaks," and two guys of the general demographic of Twin Peaks likers tipped. I assumed the tip and the song choice were connected, so I asked, "Are you Twin Peaks fans?" It turned out they didn't really speak English, and had no idea what I was talking about. Confusion ensued. Next time, I'll just let the Twin Peaks fans identify themselves, as they often do.
3. A 12-or-so-year-old boy came by. Like, the typical fat kid, sort of dorky, just to give you an image. He stopped, and said in the most angelic high-pitched voice, "Keep playing, please!" Of course!!
4. There was a huge school group. All boys, ages like 11-18, in matching Christmas-y green blazers with red and gold stripes, and red ties with a clashing pattern. I'm not sure where they're from, but many of them stopped, listened, clapped, and/or tipped! Just sort of memorable because of their enormous presence.
5. I looked to my right and saw that another boy, probably also twelve or so, was standing with his baseball hat on the floor, miming accordion playing. Amused me at first, but still annoying. But his mother ushered him away.
6. Girl walked by with a sweatshirt that said, "Dublin," and below, "Capital of Ireland." Duh!!
7. A man smiled mid-song, tipped, and said, "'Hey There, Delilah' is worth a tip!" Okay, maybe, but I was playing "Paint it Black." You know, by the Rolling Stones. I really hope Mick Jagger doesn't hear that his song was mistaken for an annoying hipster song that I would never cover, for the record. And this guy was of the right vintage to know better!
8. Immediately after vowing to not try to worm people's Twin Peaks fandom out of them, I did it again. I was playing it and a guy had a puzzled expression on his face, so I thought, so I yelled, "Twin Peaks." It was clear that he wasn't wondering. Okay, this time I mean it. No yelling about Twin Peaks.
9. Woman was sympathetic about my sign because she has three kids who are students. Eek, that's a lot of loans!
10. I've been putting a lot of thought into my look, and various fashion ideas, and I was thinking about going extreme rocker, just to be ironic. Spiky hair, combat boots, studded belt, the works. But then beautiful accordion music. To prove this, a man walked by in total "rock" apparel, and a big pink mohawk. Perfect model.
11. I met a fellow with whom I had been emailing about filming at the festival! He's a student doing research on the intricacies of busking, and he's looking for subjects. But I totally didn't get who he was at first and made it awkward. But cool project!
12. I discussed the territory issues regarding the girls with Elaine. I love her total disregard of the rules. She encouraged me to NOT give my spot up, regardless of the fact that I kicked them off it, or to set up again right next to them. Etc.
After I calmly gave up my spot, I was going to go play more on that other street. It was that perfect time of day. Little did the pushy moms know, I had a better spot up my sleeve. Mwahaha. But first, I had a "staff meeting." I love using actual work/office terms for busking, but this was the first time this one came up. Tom and I went to go have a beer, and we ended up discussing the physics behind Flaca's setup, which is a project of the not-too-distant future. Super helpful!! And since Scottish beer is so incredibly delicious, I never made it out to the other street. Nor did I blog. Oops. Excited to get Flaca moving!
Till next time (which is actually right now, it's a double-blogging night).
I nicely went up and asked how long they were going to be there. Same old routine. "All day." "Well you can only stay two hours." "Come back at 4:30 and you can play for an hour." "No, I'm going to come back when your time is up and play for my allotted two hours." I really hate having to be firm with them in front of the daughters! I asked how long they'd been there, and naturally the mother said "Not long." As in, a few minutes. Total lie. I know this was a lie because another performer told me that they had been out when he arrived, like an hour and half before. "Few minutes" indeed. This wouldn't piss me off quite so much if there weren't young, budding minds at stake. These adult sisters are teaching their children that the way to succeed is to lie, cheat, and be aggressive. Before I got their attention I watched for a minute, and was saddened by the accordion player's obviously fake smile. The violin player wasn't even bothering to smile, but her cousin caught her eye and reminded her to.
I set up outside the cathedral, but took Todd's advice to join the violinists' tradition of standing on a bollard to play. And so I did! It was much harder to balance than I expected, but it was cool to be that high up. Still got crap tips though. I need my pitch!
When 3:30 came around I hopped down and went over to inform the cousins that their time was up. Of course they all ignored me as I stood there, and I had to interrupt a song. Both moms were there, in full aggressive mode. They pretty much ignored me, brushing me off as they said, "No, we started at 2:30 so you can come back at 4:30." I called them on the fact that a witness said they had set up earlier, and they didn't argue with it. "And so that means it's time to move to a different pitch." I was really trying to stay calm. "Okay we'll just play till 4:00 then." A statement, not even a question. For fuck's sake (as I've learned to say)! I had to be quite firm, and one of the moms said, "Well when we come out and you're here we'll do the same to you." Oooh, a threat? "Naturally," I replied, "since we're only allowed two hours." This just boils my blood so much. These poor, poor girls. A police officer gave me a printed copy of the guidelines recently; I'm going to try to dig it up and hand it over to them. I really want to tattle to the authorities that they're being assholes, but I don't want to push my luck. They left entirely, and then set up in front of the cathedral. The thing is, their child labor tactics will make money anywhere in town, whereas I do significantly better at that pitch.
When they came back at 5:30, I obediently packed up my stuff without a word. That's how it's done. But I got in a pretty solid two hours, and there was a stretch where I didn't have to listen to them. Here we go:
Thursday, 12 July 2012:
1. When I was still by the cathedral, a bride and groom walked by, on their way to wed. They were the best dressed couple I've seen in a while: the bride wore a very nice white dress, but the groom wore his kilt in a pink-themed tartan, a pink sporran, pink vest, and colorful converse sneakers. I actually had to make sure it was, in fact, a woman he was about to marry. They smiled at the wedding march, which was way more epic atop a bollard. (Going to say "bollard" a lot now.)
2. I was playing "Twin Peaks," and two guys of the general demographic of Twin Peaks likers tipped. I assumed the tip and the song choice were connected, so I asked, "Are you Twin Peaks fans?" It turned out they didn't really speak English, and had no idea what I was talking about. Confusion ensued. Next time, I'll just let the Twin Peaks fans identify themselves, as they often do.
3. A 12-or-so-year-old boy came by. Like, the typical fat kid, sort of dorky, just to give you an image. He stopped, and said in the most angelic high-pitched voice, "Keep playing, please!" Of course!!
4. There was a huge school group. All boys, ages like 11-18, in matching Christmas-y green blazers with red and gold stripes, and red ties with a clashing pattern. I'm not sure where they're from, but many of them stopped, listened, clapped, and/or tipped! Just sort of memorable because of their enormous presence.
5. I looked to my right and saw that another boy, probably also twelve or so, was standing with his baseball hat on the floor, miming accordion playing. Amused me at first, but still annoying. But his mother ushered him away.
6. Girl walked by with a sweatshirt that said, "Dublin," and below, "Capital of Ireland." Duh!!
7. A man smiled mid-song, tipped, and said, "'Hey There, Delilah' is worth a tip!" Okay, maybe, but I was playing "Paint it Black." You know, by the Rolling Stones. I really hope Mick Jagger doesn't hear that his song was mistaken for an annoying hipster song that I would never cover, for the record. And this guy was of the right vintage to know better!
8. Immediately after vowing to not try to worm people's Twin Peaks fandom out of them, I did it again. I was playing it and a guy had a puzzled expression on his face, so I thought, so I yelled, "Twin Peaks." It was clear that he wasn't wondering. Okay, this time I mean it. No yelling about Twin Peaks.
9. Woman was sympathetic about my sign because she has three kids who are students. Eek, that's a lot of loans!
10. I've been putting a lot of thought into my look, and various fashion ideas, and I was thinking about going extreme rocker, just to be ironic. Spiky hair, combat boots, studded belt, the works. But then beautiful accordion music. To prove this, a man walked by in total "rock" apparel, and a big pink mohawk. Perfect model.
11. I met a fellow with whom I had been emailing about filming at the festival! He's a student doing research on the intricacies of busking, and he's looking for subjects. But I totally didn't get who he was at first and made it awkward. But cool project!
12. I discussed the territory issues regarding the girls with Elaine. I love her total disregard of the rules. She encouraged me to NOT give my spot up, regardless of the fact that I kicked them off it, or to set up again right next to them. Etc.
After I calmly gave up my spot, I was going to go play more on that other street. It was that perfect time of day. Little did the pushy moms know, I had a better spot up my sleeve. Mwahaha. But first, I had a "staff meeting." I love using actual work/office terms for busking, but this was the first time this one came up. Tom and I went to go have a beer, and we ended up discussing the physics behind Flaca's setup, which is a project of the not-too-distant future. Super helpful!! And since Scottish beer is so incredibly delicious, I never made it out to the other street. Nor did I blog. Oops. Excited to get Flaca moving!
Till next time (which is actually right now, it's a double-blogging night).
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