Terrific night of Christmas Cheer in Naples! When I got there, there was a little acoustic combo setting up near the spot that I always use, which was unusable anyway because of a big puddle of water from the rain the night before. So I went looking for an alternate location, and immediately came to a driveway/alley next to the brown-glass cube house. Since it's all glass I felt a bit safe that either the people weren't home, or were hiding in the back away from the tourists' eyes, and, hopefully, from being annoyed by the noise I was about to make.
It turned out to be a much better place than my usual spot because I could stand back out of the traffic flow, there was room for some kids to join me "on stage", there was a bright street light, I was facing (and playing towards) the canal and the passing tour boats, and across from the sidewalk was a wooden deck with a long bench for an audience.
And I did assemble quite a few pretty big audiences. Early on, it was families with kids who came up to shake the jingle sticks. Toward the end, I had dating couples who just needed an excuse to sit and cuddle. Either way is fine with me.
I had one older lady stop and listen for a while. She said that I sounded like Willie Nelson, and did I get that a lot? I said, no, it's usually James Taylor, but since I've been singing so much, I'd gotten a bit of a blown-out rasp that might be Willie-like. She asked if I knew that Christmas song by the Carpenters, which is one of my favorites but I seldom get to play it because it's one of "the slow schmaltzy ones". Afterwards, she admitted that she didn't have any money on her, but as a tip alternative, she wanted to "give me a cheek", and she came over so we could bump cheeks. More sanitary than a kiss, I guess.
About 10, it settled into adults, mostly college kids, just sitting and listening, so I finally got to shift from the Rudolph/Frosty/Jingle Bells cycle into the schmaltzy ones. To my surprise, nobody got bored by them and got up to leave. When I ran through all of those, I switched to some non-Christmas songs, "You've Got a Friend" and "Hallelujah", to which one girl was boldly singing along, so I recruited her to come up and sing the Girl Part for "Baby It's Cold Outside".
But as I was getting out the second mic for her, the guy in the white house came out and said, "I don't want to be a scrooge, but it's 20 till 11, and I gotta go to work in the morning". I quickly agreed to shut down after this one last song. Rachael did mostly OK, but didn't really get the inner portions of the song and kept jumping the gun on her lines. I tried to jump the guitar part to keep up with where she was, but that tended to truncate the middle of my vocal lines, causing much confusion. Really great try, though, and fun anyway.
As I was tearing down, several groups of people came by and stopped expectantly, and I had to tell them that I was done because the guy wanted to get some sleep. I had some battery life left, and clearly a lot of remaining interest, so I guess I could have moved back down by the park (the combo was surely gone by then) but my voice was pretty shot, and I had a (paying) gig the next night, so I went on home.
Gotta love Christmas time -- people are lots more friendly and less guarded, the tunes are all culturally shared, and the tips really flow. A couple of nights like that one would pay for my whole Christmas list.
This was my eighth year playing for the families waiting in line to see Santa and Mrs. Claus at the city of Mission Viejo's elaborate Santa's Workshop. There are nine nights, and I play eight of them, only 'cuz one overlaps with their own Holly Jolly Lights Tour party that I also play.
I'm set up such that the kids can come over since they're "contained" by the picket fence behind me and the queue itself -- the parents (or one parent) can stay in line and call the kids back to the line when they get close to Santa. The idea is to give the hyped-up kids some distraction when the line to see Santa can get up to two hours long. And it works out really well, except...
Sometimes the coordinator allows some local group to come play. The first Wednesday was a tiny tots dance school -- very cute, but you could only hear the boom box, not the kids, and only then if you weren't in line, since they'd set up on the grass to "play to" the moms, grammas, etc. and not the general public. Not sure why they needed to do it here, except I guess it was a nice setting for Dad's pictures.
The second Wednesday was a middle school caroling group -- not bad, but inaudible, even though I tried to get them to set up nearer the line. It's not so much that the line *needs* them, but when nobody can hear you so they ignore you, it's demoralizing for the singers. Lose-lose. And same with the third group, a small group of girls who sang inaudibly a capella for a while, and then lip synched (or sang along, I guess) with a kids choir record on a boom box.
Anyway, when it was my turn, I had fun, like always. I love playing for kids. And most of them are all dressed up for the Santa pictures, so it's very cute. I brought my "jingle sticks", and this year realized that, to keep the wall of noise created by them more manageable, just put fewer out there. Duh. Not to mention that it's easier to keep track of them so they don't walk away as often. I do still have to take them away from kids (always boys) who have decided to see how hard you have to bang the stick against the table to break it, or start to use them as a weapon. Still, overall, the kids that enjoy playing with them outweigh the hassle.
Of course, filling two or three hours with the 7 or 8 kids' Christmas songs gets a bit repetitive, so I branch out a little by playing "Do You Want To Build a Snowman" from "Frozen". It's got "snowman" in it, don't it? Of course, once I've done that one, they all suss out that I probably know "Let It Go", so then we do that one. And I sometimes throw in "Over the Rainbow".
And then usually, when the line gets short at the end of the evening, I can start up some of the crooning old-school ones -- they're so much fun to sing. Reckon I'll be back next year...
I figured it would take me two hours just to get there, on a Friday just before Christmas, driving past South Coast Plaza, but if you're not there really early, there's no place to park. So I left at 3:30 and got there at 5:30. Of course, nobody else was there so I had to stall a while before setting up. Good thing, too, 'cuz the batteries weren't fully charged and I only got to play for two hours -- shut down just as it was getting good. Oh well.
It was pretty slow at first, and without sufficient traffic, it's hard to get anyone to stop. But I did get some families to stop long enough for their kids to shake some tambourine sticks to "Jingle Bells". And a girl came right up and asked if she could get a picture with me, so after that I asked her if she wanted to sing a song, too. Her friend suggested "Silent Night", which I remembered as a Big Hit last year, so I fired it up.
A group of four middle-aged ladies with matching light-up halos on was sitting nearby, listening and singing along. They wanted "Joy to the World" next, but since I don't know it, I admitted that I do know "Oh Holy Night", so I had to do that one. Unfortunately, the bombastic high notes at the end coupled with the increased signal when the harmony box is on proved to be too much for the batteries to cope with, and it started doing that cutting out thing that it does when it's about finished.
And just as I was about to ask if one of the Halo Ladies would step up for the Girl Part of "Baby It's Cold Outside". Drat.
But, even with only two hours, and too early of ones at that, I did really well tips-wise, and had fun. I'll have to go back with fuller batteries next week, if the weather cooperates.
A guy who runs the "senior club" saw me playing for the Senior Daycare, and asked me to come play for the Club's Christmas lunch/party. I think he meant for me to play after they were done eating, but for some reason the ham was an hour late, so I ended up playing while they were eating.
Which was pretty awkward, 'cuz it made me into background music underneath their lunch conversations instead of a concert, but I guess I'm getting used to that, and I got paid either way.
When they were done eating, though, the guy got up and made everybody stand up and sing along to "Jingle Bells", but nobody knew the second ("Miss Fanny Bright") verse. Then they wanted to do "Silent Night", but nobody knew its second verse, either. They did better with "I'll Be Home for Christmas".
Afterwards, a bunch of nice grammas came up to tell me how much they enjoyed it, and several of them took my cards, so maybe that'll turn into yet more gigs for old folks.
"It was late in the evening, and I blew that room away!"
-- Paul Simon, "Late In The Evening", 1980
Pub Thirty Two is a pretty nice bar and restaurant just three miles from my house in Mission Viejo. We noticed that they have live music on Fridays and Saturdays, and stopped in to find out how to get booked, and they told us that you come for the monthly Open Mic, and if they like you...
I'd had a bad cold for the last three days, but decided to go anyway, if only to see what the format of the Open Mic was, how many people came, equipment setup, etc., but I threw my guitar in the van, just in case -- better to have it and not need it than vice versa.
When I got there, I just hung around outside, 'cuz I could see whoever was playing through the window, and hear through the door. A kid was strumming through "Wagon Wheel", with occasional tuneless harmonica breaks. Let's just say he was sincere, and everybody has to start someplace. He did a couple more songs, and they spent way too long resetting up the equipment so an old guy could get up and hack through "Ring of Fire". I guess his courage was admirable just to get up there, especially considering how terrible he was.
He did another song, and then Wagon Wheel got back up, and I decided that, if this was the quality of the "talent" for the night, even my cold-ravaged voice would suffice. And it looked like there was nobody else waiting -- which is what I was kind of expecting, at an Open Mic in sleepy Mission Viejo. On a Thursday. In December.
So I finally went in and asked if there was a sign-up sheet, and they said, "Oh, you want to play?" Turned out that Wagon Wheel was running the event, which is why he went back on after Ring of Fire -- there was nobody else there. So he did a couple of songs, and announced that a "new singer" was coming up.
I brought out my Magic Bag, which simplifies the setup since it's battery-powered and pre-wired with the harmony box and the wireless receivers, so I just need one connection to the house amp, and my balance, tone, and reverb is controlled by me, not whoever's pretending to be a sound man. As I was getting the wireless rigs in place on my head and guitar, I looked over at Ring of Fire and his friends, glaring at me like I was Big Jim Walker pulling out his two-piece custom-made pool cue. Suddenly I had something to prove -- a guy with all this fancy equipment better Bring Something...
I started with "You've Got a Friend". I was nervous in a new place with weird sound, but I got through it. And the place went nuts. Sound Guy and his wife (about my age) were going berserk, but even twenty-something Wagon Wheel and his girlfriend were hooting and hollering (probably because I'd just "saved" his Open Mic). The rest of the bar was applauding as if JT himself had walked in to play a song. When it finally died down, I looked at Sound Guy and Wagon Wheel and said, "So... Play another one, shall I?"
Of course, they let me play another one, and for the rest of the night, since there was nobody else on the List, and Wagon Wheel wasn't about to try to go on again after me. I guess I played from about 9:30 until 11:30 when Sound Guy decided he needed to get his wife and equipment home.
As I was packing up, the manager came by and said, "When you get done packing, let's chat". And he booked me for a paying gig, the next open Friday (January 8th), right then and there.
His only concern was a little hard to decipher in all the restaurant-ese, but I'm pretty sure that the gist was that he considers the evening divided into two phases, Dinner, and Bar Time. He thinks I'm perfect for Dinner phase, but wonders if I can get more rowdy for Bar phase. (Which is why he booked me for a Friday -- Fridays are More Dinner, and Saturdays are More Bar.) But I do have lots of more uptempo stuff, I just need to get past thinking that it's "too easy", and that it sounds dumb for a guy with an acoustic guitar (i.e., no drums nor bass) to play rock and roll. But if guys that are way less skilled than I am can do it with a straight face, I should be able to, too.
So, it was like a movie: Struggling musician can't get a break, plays the Open Mic/Audition and "blows the room away", finally gets booked (and lives happily ever after?). But as I was lying in bed too excited to sleep, it occurred to me that I've put in at *least* as much time on this stuff as it takes to get a four-year degree, and I should certainly be hire-able by now.
And as icing, a guy and his wife/girlfriend were at the bar, and she, at least, seemed very impressed with my stuff. As they were leaving, he dropped a twenty and his business card on the barstool next to me. He's the President/CEO of "Peppino's" restaurants -- there are three, all nearby, and they have live music. I guess I'll send him an email and see if he meant to imply any kind of offer...
My friend in the Laguna Beach Historical Society asked me to come play for their "Hospitality Night". I figured it was yet another euphemism for "Christmas Party", and I'd be playing for the members, just like the lawyer party I'd be playing that same afternoon.
Turned out, "Hospitality Night" is a city-wide block party, where everyone turns out to see Santa light up the historic Pepper Tree at City Hall, and they block off Forest (which is essentially Laguna's "Main Street") and party all night.
The Historical Society is in an old house one street over from Forest, and they wanted me to play out on the covered porch to try to bring people in. And it worked! The porch acted like a stage, and lots of people walking by stopped to hear me play, saw me up there, and ended up going on in to have a look at the historical stuff inside.
It was really quite nice to have a raised, well lit, and heated! Place to play, and the street is much more quiet than my usual spot on The Corner so the sound was quite good. There were a few chairs on the porch and lots of people took the time to sit and listen for a while.
The weirdest part was when a long-haired and wild-eyed guy and his girlfriend approached me from across the street while I was playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". They waited for the end of the song, told me how great it was, and that they had a proposal. I was leery of what that might be, but it turned out that the girlfriend had made a Christmas video for her family back east, and they had unsuccessfully scoured the internet for background music. They wanted to buy a CD, and use my song. Sure, OK with me, and really, how would I know or stop them anyway, even if I wanted to? The guy promised to send me a copy of the final video, but of course, he hasn't...
People kept telling me that I ought to be playing over on Forest where the real party was going on, but I felt like I should play where I had been asked to (and paid to) play, and besides, it was going so well. But finally, a little after 8:00, the foot traffic had all but died on Ocean, so I packed up to go see what was happening on Forest.
And it was a madhouse! People wall-to-wall filling the street, loud music from the rooftop parties, and a big stage set up right in the middle of the street. I set up next to the green swirly thing where the crowds started to thin a bit, and unsuccessfully tried to compete with the rock band on the stage. But after four songs, it was clearly not going to happen, and I was nearly out of battery, so I packed up and came home.
I was told that the Tommies were on The Corner, Sanchez was across from them, and another guy was in the Corridor, but it's hard to imagine that any of them could play against the rock band. I'm guessing that they were there earlier, and had to quit once the rock started up. Might be worth trying that myself, next year.
I guess they liked me last year, so they had me back again to play at the Orange County Bar Association holiday party. I forgot my Christmas tie, but luckily had my hat out in the car -- I figured it was too silly for a lawyer party, but the lady who hires me for these asked about it and wanted me to wear it, so I did.
The party itself went about the same as last year -- they're all there to socialize, after all, so I play and they talk and ignore me for the most part. Occasionally someone nice comes over to apologize that they don't appear to be listening, but they really do appreciate the music, and I'm pretty sure that's essentially true. And I did get paid.
This time I decided to put my tip jar out, albeit subtly on the ground in front of the speaker, and the lawyers again proved to be terrible tippers -- I made seven dollars. But I also put some cards out and several of them disappeared, so maybe something will come of that.
Not too bad, for November. Sparsely attended, of course, but some really nice people came by.
Right at the beginning, two ladies showed up, separately. One was a nice older lady who listened for a few songs and then came up to put a buck in the jar but also to give me "a gift" of her handmade soaps. The other was Wendy, a sometimes-sweet but more-often-drunk burnt-out hippie lifetime Laguna street person.
I was nearly overcome with the scent of eucalyptus and fennel, and presumed that Wendy had somehow come across a bottle of scented oil and had bathed in it. People were avoiding her, since she was drunk and even more disheveled than usual, but it turned out that, of her faults, the stifling aroma wasn't one of them -- it was the soap sitting on the trashcan/merch table beside me. Sorry Wendy, I misjudged you. Though only a little...
But before all that, just as I arrived a guy came by and astutely figured out that I was going to play some music. He asked what kind of stuff I play, and I told him, and he said that he liked that kind of music, and took off from there, literally never stopping talking for the 20 or so minutes it took me to set up. It was really quite amazing -- once I realized that his marble collection was incomplete, and since I couldn't hear or decode half of what he was saying, I stopped responding in any way, but he managed to ramble on, and on, and on. I'm pretty sure it was some kind of Tourette Syndrome deal.
Fortunately, he finally got bored watching me set up and wandered into the ice cream shop, where the girl behind the counter managed to offend him sufficiently to get him yelling at her, but eventually stopping away, flinging curses back at her. I'll have to remember to thank her someday, 'cuz it was gonna be hard to play against his continuous commentary...
But other than those two, everyone else was great. Some kids came by and requested "Pure Imagination" from (the original) "Willy Wonka", and an older lady stopped to gush over how great that was. One nice lady stopped and listened until her husband and kids showed up, and then came back after they'd had their dinner.
Earlier in the week I'd practiced playing some of my rock and roll dance tunes with my iPhone drum machine app, and I'd clocked the actual beats per minute of the original recordings. I pulled several of them out when it was getting late and empty, and virtually all of them seem *way* too slow at the "right" speed. What does that say about my rock and roll sensibilities?
And around midnight, when it was nearly deserted, some high school boys came by and asked if I knew any Justin Bieber. Probably as a joke -- but I did learn his most famous song ("Baby") to play for the teenies that prowl at Spectrum back in 2010, so I busted it out. They freaked out and started dancing and jumping around, and suddenly there were a half-dozen girls there too, dancing to what qualifies as a "classic" for them. Instant party -- but it disappeared just as quickly when the song was over. Oh well.
And just before we quit, the guy who works at Disney showed up. A month ago he had taken my CD and kids' song list and card to try to get me in at Downtown Disney, and I had all but given up on him. But he did deliver the stuff and his enthusiastic recommendation to the Booking Director -- he just hadn't heard anything back. So that's probably dead in the water, but I have the Booking guy's name now, so I might be able to pursue it -- but probably not until after the holidays.
The people who work at this "Senior Daycare" program assure me that nobody remembers my last visit or that they've already heard me play those songs. I guess it's specifically a program for memory-issue people, so that's probably true for many of them.
But I can tell it's not true for all of them, so I tried to do some different songs this time. In particular, I made myself do "Since I Fell For You", which is a real screamer, so I have to really put it out there. But several of them were falling asleep (it's just after lunch, and most of my stuff is pretty mellow, so, understandable), so I knocked it out to try and liven the place up a bit. And it may have worked, too.
But I also did the ones they like to sing along to, "Georgia On My Mind" and "South of the Border", and couldn't resist doing "Cool Water", just 'cuz it's from 1948 so even the oldest ones there should know it, and it sounds *so* cool with the harmony box.
It was apparently our "turn" at The Corner, so I went down at 6:00 just to make sure nobody else snagged it first. I was up and running by 6:20, and had several families with little kids for the first hour, so I played lots of Disney songs, and had one little girl brave enough to get up and sing "Let It Go" with me.
I'd been on vacation for a while and since I hadn't played much guitar for three weeks, I was worried that I'd mess up a lot, but it all came back pretty well. Like riding a bike, I guess. And since it's pretty much winter, the foot and auto traffic is down, so it was quieter than usual and my guitar and vocals sounded pretty good out there.
A nice lady came by and was listening and mentioned that it was her birthday. Of course, I gave her a tiara, but a couple of hours later she came back and insisted on giving it back to me. She thanked me for making her feel like a princess for the evening, though.
Warren had wandered off to find a bathroom, and a guy came up a bit *too* close to me while I was playing a song, and suddenly just reached out and plucked a string of my guitar. When he reached out to do it again, I smelled the alcohol, and turned away from him so he couldn't reach the guitar. He gave up and walked away, and fell down in the crosswalk as he left. "Falling down drunk", as they say.
Around 10:00 it got pretty deserted, so I fired up my two new songs. All through my vacation, the Temptations' "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" was running through my head for some reason, so when I got home to my guitar, I worked it up. And, even weirder, I somehow got the notion that I could pull off the Jackson 5's "I Want You Back" that baby Groot dances to at the end of "Guardians of the Galaxy", so I worked up a version of that, too. They both actually play and sing OK for me, they're just really "out of my wheelhouse", and sound weird (to me, anyway) coming out of my mouth. But they might work for the bar-hopping crowd.
Which started to show up around 11:00, so I started playing rock and roll songs, bolstered by how much better the new guitar strums than the old one. The crowds were too thin, though, to get much of anything started, but since getting to play down there at all is so hard to come by, I kept trying until 1am when the battery died.
Still, it was a pretty good night, especially for such a cold and wintery one. The character of the money in the tip jar is starting to change -- we're making as much money as ever, but there's far fewer ones and more "big money" to make up for it. Am I more deserving of bigger tips, or is the economy improving?
When the Activities Committee lady asked me to play the Artisan Faire again, I figured it couldn't be as hot as it was last time -- but it tried. Despite the glowering sky, it was way too hot anyway, and humid.
But the show goes on. A bit more attendance than last time, and the nice ladies in the next booth were friendly -- they even bought a CD.
A very old but still mobile lady came by with her daughter, and they stood nearby listening to the end of a song. I walked out and handed them a song list and said that they could pick one. They looked at the list for a while and then Gramma said, far too loud, "Do I have to give him some money?!?" to much embarrassment for her daughter. I quickly replied, "No, no, I just want to play a song you like!" I guess that made it OK then, and they found something they wanted to hear.
My monthly gig with the seniors, and it went pretty much the same as always. Thankfully, not as much disruption by Sherm the Thigh-Drummer, as usual.
What was nice, though, was that, although the five or six ladies who work there generally come by a couple of times as I'm playing and stand in the doorway, pretending to be "working" but "just stopping by", they all seem to have spontaneously agreed to drop any pretense, and they just set up a small row of folding chairs for themselves and sat in for the whole concert. Kinda flattering...
I had such a great night on Saturday that I thought I'd take a chance and see if (A) the heatwave would bring out some people on a Sunday, and (B) the Tommies would take the whole weekend off. Mostly right on both counts.
I got there at 6:00 just as the sun was setting. Angel and his protégé were taking up the whole bench with their palm frond origami rose workshop, and there was hardly any foot traffic. I stalled a while, wondering if it was even worth setting up. Took the opportunity to talk to Angel and the Kid, who also work downtown Huntington Beach, and knew that you can busk there, but no amplifiers. Good to know. I also finally just came out with it and asked Angel to do me the favor of moving the workshop down the bench so that I could possibly build up a seated audience. I told him that I really didn't come down there to watch people walk by. He laughed, understood, and moved his stuff down. It was worth the trip down there just to come to that understanding with him -- assuming he remembers for next time.
The weird part was that, as the sun was setting, there was nobody walking around. But fortunately I had stalled long enough to see that the second the sun got below the horizon it was like the school bell had rung, and people started flooding the sidewalks. I guess everyone had just stopped to watch and photograph the sunset. Suddenly it was busy enough to be worth setting up, so I did.
Obviously not as many people out as on a Saturday, but it was nice. Now that most of the tourists are gone, "my age" couples from around town come out and they all like my stuff, so I had at least a few people on the bench and standing around making requests all night.
A family was over on the side bench with a little girl, so I walked over to give her one of my picture-menu Kids' Music lists. After a while, the lady brought her over, pointing to "Do You Want to Build a Snowman". The lady had an accent, so I asked where they were from, and she said that the little girl was from Russia, but she's from Poland. Not the mom, then?
Anyway, I played the song, but I started thinking that the little girl hadn't been able to read the song name and had probably just chosen it by the image, and that she'd probably actually wanted "Let It Go". I suggested that, and the "mom" liked that idea, as did a couple of extra little girls that had appeared during "...Snowman". One of those agreed to come up and sing along, but I didn't pressure the Russian girl to try.
Oddly, about 9:00 the Tommies appeared. They set up on the other side, and with the new amplification system apparently pointed to reflect off the picture window, I was beset with Tom's unvarying "chunka chunka" strumming for the rest of the night. Up close you can tell the songs apart, but from this distance, they're all the same tempo, and Tom's style never changes, and they all sound alike. But for the casual observer, Tomi's cuteness beats my musicality, and they assemble a bigger and more demonstrative (and undoubtedly more generous) audience than mine, to my continual chagrin. Oh well.
Toward the end, a guy and his wife appeared, and he plays guitar and some of the same songs I do, so I suspect his requests were more about research than entertainment. But that's OK -- I learned most of what I know by watching other guys, and I'm happy to pass it on.
Great night! Despite being October, the temps were in the 90's, so there were lots of people out. I got down there at 6:00 to make sure that our deal with Tom that made it Our Turn didn't get snarfed by somebody else.
There were three ladies on the bench as I got set up, so I gave them songlists to go over. Once I was ready, I started playing "Hotel California" as I always do as my "warm up song", and they gasped in amazement that I had read their minds as to what song they wanted.
But halfway through it, the guitar cut out, as it had been doing two weeks ago at the very end. I attempted to fix it at home, but it worked fine there, so nothing to fix. But since it was presumably the wireless rig that was failing, I brought a cable this time as a backup. So when it died again, I swapped in the cable, and it worked -- for another 30 seconds.
As a test, I hooked up the ukulele and it worked fine, proving that it was the 9-volt battery that powers the pre-amp in the guitar -- which I had no spares for. (But, wow, *so* much better than trying to get the wireless rig repaired!) Fortunately, these days I have a "backup" for the whole guitar, so I played ukulele songs until Warren arrived to loan me a new guitar battery.
I started, of course, with "Over the Rainbow", and then "I'm Yours" and "Hey, Soul Sister". After that, all I have is kids' songs and Hawaiian Novelty Tunes, which I didn't think would work, but quite a lot of people had stopped by then to listen, including a family with a little girl, so I launched "Someone to Lava" from the short before the new Pixar movie. And it worked -- the little girl gave a start of recognition, and excitedly nudged her mom who also "got it". Yay!
We had a pretty good audience all night. It actually seems like "moderate" traffic works better than "heavy" 'cuz people don't feel so "swept along" and can slow down or stop to listen. I basically had requests going all night long -- indeed I was starting to feel like I hadn't had a chance to play some of my best songs only because they hadn't been requested and I couldn't get a song of my own choosing in. Nice problem to have!
Three ladies came by and requested "Kiss the Girl" from "The Little Mermaid" from the kids' list. OK with me -- that song goes over well with all ages. A local guy who I've seen before was there and said, "Hey, I was an animator on that movie!" He asked if I knew "Whole New World" from "Aladdin" (which I do) 'cuz he worked on that one, too. I pointed out that I know lots of Disney songs, indeed, I'd love to play at Downtown Disney 'cuz I'd do great there. He said, "Oh, I can get you in at Downtown Disney". Apparently he still works there, and his dad is "an executive" there.
I gave him a card, a Kids' CD (which has most of my Disney songs on it), and made him take one of my Kids' Song Lists. He seemed sure that he could talk to his boss and get us in. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high since these things seldom pan out, but that would totally be my Dream Job!
We made a deal with Tom that if we didn't come down last week, he wouldn't come down this week. So we had The Corner to ourselves all night for the first time in a long time.
I got the chance to play my new ukulele a few times. It works quite well for "Over the Rainbow", "I'm Yours", and "Hey, Soul Sister", since people have heard those songs, played that way. I also played "Ukulele Lady", but I'm not sure the novelty songs that I've learned will work. Like "Waltzing With Bears", they require some attention from the audience to follow and get the jokes, and people in this situation don't really have the span. Not to mention the audibility challenges from sirens, Harleys, and loud car douchebags.
It was a pretty good night for "off season". My little Superfan Natalia (and family) came down again. As always, I played "You'll Be In My Heart" for her while her dad cuddled her up. I thought she'd like my new "toy guitar", so I played "Tiki Room" with it. Then back to guitar to play "Puff the Magic Dragon" for her little brother, but before I got started, Natalia came up and asked if she could play the Toy Guitar. I said, "Sure" and handed it to her. Her mom came up and held her while we did "Puff", with Natalia pretending to play along as part of the band. Very cute.
Also appearing was Phuong and Christopher, our other Superfans. Phuong is a real sweetie, and makes the most surprising requests. She keeps me on my toes, requesting songs I haven't done in ages, like "When You Wish Upon a Star".
Three Canadian ladies showed up and wanted to hear Canadian songs, so I played Neil Young's "Old Man", and Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind". When they told me it was the middle one's birthday, I sang the song and gave her a tiara so she could look the part.
Later on, I was in the middle of playing "Here Comes the Sun" when a college girl stopped. It was apparently "her jam" 'cuz she came right over to stand in front of me to wiggle-dance and smile. At the end, she said "Oh, thank you!", gave me a kiss on the cheek and Warren a hug, and off she went.
A couple came by and after a few songs the husband came over to buy a CD. I offered to autograph it, and the wife said to sign it to her, and that her name was "Lee". (Or "Leigh"?) I wrote "To Lee", and then my name, but it seems to me now that that was probably inadequate. I've never had anyone ask for a dedication before, so I was taken off guard, but I should probably think of something a bit more clever.
Another couple stopped and the lady asked for "Fire and Rain", saying that she likes that song because her name is "Suzanne". Before I could stop myself I blurted out that the Suzanne in the song had killed herself. This Suzanne probably didn't need/want to know that. What a jerk I am sometimes...
Tom offered us a deal that if we didn't come down this week, he wouldn't come down next week. That seemed like a good deal: not having a bad night (on the "wrong" corner until 11) this week in exchange for a good one next week. But since I hadn't played last weekend, I needed to play someplace, and took the opportunity to give Belmont another try.
There's been some discussion about the confusion of amplifier ordinances in Long Beach (they literally have laws on the books both ways), so it's a little scary about whether or not you'll get busted. So every time a cop came by (and they come by a lot to keep the drunk partiers in check), I got really quiet, and paranoid. But, so far so good -- no hassle this time, at least.
The "usual" busking spot is in front of the Chase bank, which is closed at night, and has a nice wide sidewalk. But there was already a guy playing slide blues kinds of stuff (with no amp) there, so I set up across the street in an alcove of the Bank of America. Unfortunately, that's the "less fun" side of the street, so I didn't get much attention. Quite a few people passing by put money in my jar, but I'd'a preferred that they stop and listen a while...
I did have a family stop and I gave the little girls the Kids' List, and they chose "Do You Want To Build a Snowman?" from "Frozen". I said OK, but somebody needs to feed me the Elsa line, "Go away, Anna!". I thought the big sister would find this fun, but watching her up to that point in the song, she was freaked out by the dread responsibility of being able to hit her cue. But her mom helped and after we got through that part, she relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the song.
Around 10, the slide guy inexplicably moved up the street, so I moved over to where he had been, since that's the "fun side". And it did get a lot more traffic, but still not a lot of people stopping to listen. Except a surfer guy who recognized "Hotel California" as he went by, and came back to plop on the ground to listen. His remarkably scantily-clad girlfriend and other friend had to stop and come back, too. I gave them my song lists, and they stayed for 5 or 6 songs, and helped attract some other people to at least slow down.
But it really only started to get good at 10:30 or 11, when a lot more people came by. But again they were mostly putting money in the jar and moving on. Finally three kids stopped, mostly because the guy like my hat. He wanted to wear it, and get a picture, so I gave my phone to the girl so I'd have a copy, too. Then the other girl wanted to get in on this, so we got another picture, with her in the hat.
I told them that they could pick a song, and the blue-haired girl said that, since she was having a bad night, she deserved to pick. Fine with me... But then she picked "Let It Go", and I figured, what the heck, nobody else is stopping anyway, and went ahead and played it. And, boom! *Everybody* (guys and girls) passing by jumped in to sing along, run up to get a picture or video next to me, dance through (with castle-making gestures), and, yes, throw money in the jar. Biggest song of the night, by an order of magnitude. I shoulda just played it back to back, all night.
Just after 1am, a fire truck came and parked right in front of me, with the loud diesel engine running. I couldn't play against the noise, so I sat on the bus stop bench and waited. Pretty soon some cops pulled up, and then more, and more, until there were five cop cars lined up. Dunno what the problem was (maybe something about a lost drunk girl?) but I was unwilling to give all these cops an opportunistic "amp law" bust, so I packed up.
A lady who had been playing a ways down the street also decided the sudden cop swarm wasn't conducive to street music, so she packed up and introduced herself on her way past. She was Lisa Stryker, who's a minor celebrity on the "Long Beach Musicians" Facebook group, mostly because of her continuing experiences and complaints about the unclear amp situation. We talked for a while about that, and I was a bit surprised, 'cuz her Facebook posts don't have that Australian accent...
Wow. I didn't play at all last weekend. So getting up there gets a little scary 'cuz it's not immediately familiar. And there's a huge amount of stuff that's not on the song sheet that I have to remember, and after two weeks, you're not sure if it's faded away or not. On the other hand, the vague and scary feeling of unfamiliarity also causes the songs to be "fresher" as routine habit gets replaced with actual attention.
So I was knocking those songs Out. Of. The. Park. It felt great to be playing and singing again, and these old folks know me by now and are a great audience. Also, it's a church (-ish?) kind of building with terrific acoustics and it just sounds great in there. Especially compared to the only other place I play these days: The Corner in Laguna with the Harleys and firetrucks and rude cellphone talkers, etc.
The tricky part was that I had smashed my left thumb in a piano-moving accident three days before (like slamming it in a car door), so the chords where I throw my thumb over the top of the neck were possible, but painful. So, just to add a layer of complexity, I had to try to reformulate those chords to use only fingers, on the fly. I love a challenge...
Anyway, to add some variety for these poor captive folks that have already heard my stuff a half-dozen times, I had a secret weapon that I held back as long as I could stand it: the new ukulele. I've been playing nothing else for the last two weeks at home, and decided that, if there was ever an audience that would like to hear it, it was these guys. Naturally, I've played "Over the Rainbow" for them every time I've been there, and, their possible memory issues aside, it feels like it just has to be getting repetitive for them. So I played it on uke this time. I actually think that both versions sound great, so I'm not really sure which one I should keep in the act. After that, I pulled up a classic 1928 uke tune, "Ukulele Lady", which they seemed to really like, so, although I had planned to just do those two, I went ahead and did "Five Foot Two", which I only learned yesterday. But I mostly got through it, and they loved it.
There's a room in the back corner of the big auditorium, and people kept walking through to get to some kind of meeting that was going on back there. Invariably though, they'd stall a bit and listen to a song or two before going on in. That was flattering.
And after I was done, a guy came up and asked for a card. He runs the "55 Club" that meets there, and wants to hire me to play, maybe monthly, but at least for his Christmas Program in December. He asked me if I knew any Christmas carols, and I said that I don't, but I know lots of Christmas *songs*. He asked what was the difference, and I told him that carols have Jesus in 'em, and only sound good when done by a four-part choir. Christmas "songs", on the other hand, are about snow, Santa, and winter in general. He was OK with that, though I suspect that he thinks that this will be a singalong, which, sorry, I have to arrange the songs to fit my style and abilities, and they're not necessarily the way people singing along will remember them. Oh well, we'll see what happens...
Anyway, that was fun. I wish I got to play longer, but after an hour, it's Senior Snack Time, and I gotta get out of the way for that!
Warren was Back East visiting with family, so I went down alone. I thought Tom would quit at 9, but his curfew has been lifted, so he plays until 10:30 now.
So I set up on the other corner, but ended up talking to a pair of "regulars", Wendy and Tom, most of the time. Tom says he prefers me to the Tommies' because my music makes him cry. I thought he was kidding, but when I started playing he asked for a Beatles song so I played "Let It Be". He tried to hide under his baseball cap, but he really was crying. "Let It Be" doesn't seem all that sad, but there you go.
I moved to the ice cream corner when the Tommies left at 10:30, but of course most of the people were gone. And that, coupled with Homeless Willy pestering anybody who dared to slow down, made for a pretty poor night. Willy was trying to sell some rubber-band launched light-up whirligigs to passing tourists. But since his pitch was to demo that, every time he launched one it ended up in the middle of the street, I'm not sure how he convinced anyone.
He also resumed his annoying routine of shouting out the artist at the end of every song. I finally had to tell him that, since I had gone to the trouble of learning these songs, I was pretty familiar with them and knew, and had noted on each song sheet, the artists, thanks anyway.
I did get a little attention around midnight as the bar-hoppers appeared. And there were a pair of cops "walking the beat", and they marched by the first time, but on their way back I was in the middle of "Over the Rainbow" and one of them stopped the other one so he could listen. That's never happened before -- they're usually "all business".
But a big part of why I even stayed was to try out my new ukulele. My old one doesn't have a pickup, so I couldn't use it in the act, but this one does. I waited until it was really late, and started with "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz. Although I thought nobody was around, suddenly there were people zooming by, and lots of them put money in the jar. Novelty, I guess -- but it seemed weird to be making a better impression with the silly uke than I had been with my guitar.
Definitely nice to have the change of pace in the act, so I'll keep at it, but I wonder what Warren will do while I'm playing it. A big part of the beauty of it is how plain and simple it is, so it won't really work to have him playing electric lead over the top of it.
But that may be a moot point if we can't get the ice cream corner until 10:30 every time. It's just not worth going down there that late.
It was the annual Comer Brothers Show-Off Event, where we gather in my brother's driveway for him to show off his cooking, and me to show off my playing. Maybe because I had just played (and had a good time of it) the night before, or maybe because I'm getting more comfortable with my brother's friends, but I felt very much at ease this time, and just "let 'er fly". And I always have a great time when that attitude kicks in.
The sound was good, there's no traffic noise, and I wasn't having any trouble with feedback on the new guitar, so I felt good about the music. And with people actually listening on purpose, I feel like I can tell some stories, and I did. But maybe that's the exact opposite of what I ought to do -- if they're listening, probably I should shut up and play...
We both assumed that the odds of us playing tonight were near zero, but out of the blue, Tom texted Warren to tell him that they were out of town and wouldn't be there. Wow!
It's been really hot, and there were lots of people out. Unfortunately, that included some undesirables. Like the meth casualty who loudly proclaims his opinions of the songs, right in the middle of them; street-person aging-hippie/beach chick, Wendy; and the literally crazy cat-lady who only speaks in meows and licked Warren's cheek ("kitty kisses!"), while he was trying to play.
It came down to just Wendy for most of the night, and although Warren valiantly tried to keep her subdued or at least at a distance, she was a thorn in my side all night, keeping me from being able to really get into my playing. I kept thinking that I'd pull her aside and give her the hard truth that I'm just not down there to play for her, but she was half drunk and I didn't know how she'd react, so I held my tongue.
Otherwise, a pretty good night. I hadn't seen my little superfan Natalia for a few weeks, and when they showed up, I knew why -- the formerly very-pregnant mom was toting a two-week-old baby sister. On the outside, this time.
Later on, a couple of college kids came by and listened for a while before looking at the list and requesting "Pure Imagination" from (the original) "Willy Wonka". People sometimes ask for that one by its title, even though they don't really know it, and I lead them to a different song. But these kids knew exactly what they were asking for, so I did it. And pretty well, considering how strange the chords are and how infrequently I play it.
After that, they asked for a dancing song, so I did my favorite, "Please, Mister Postman", and they got up and did some very impressive "American Bandstand" style, hyperkinetic, skirt-twirling, rock 'n' roll dancing. That was pretty great.
During the summer, we get people from all over the world (somebody snuck a United Arab Emirates 10 dirham note (worth $2.72) into the tip jar). I tried to hand a song list to a lady and her friends and she waved me off and said in Boris and Natasha's accent, "No, ve're foreigners! Just play wot you vere playink!" I asked "Where are you from?", and she replied, "Carlsbad". I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Um, Carlsbad isn't a foreign country..." She just smiled and didn't say anything, so apparently where she's really from is Top Secret. I don't think her "Carlsbad" cover story is going to hold a lot of water, though.
But despite the implication that she didn't know any American songs, after a while she came over and put a twenty in the jar. I don't know if it was a tip or if she was buying my silence...
I got to The Corner at 6 o'clock to be (almost) sure to beat the Tommies, and did. I texted Warren to tell him he could come by and join me after work, but he decided he needed to stay home and practice because he and Jim have a gig at the Sawdust Festival on Thursday. So I played from 6 to 10 by myself again.
Now that school has started around here, the only traffic out is childless locals, families with young children, and foreigners. I had people from each category, but only enough to make a good night, not a great one.
Early on, a middle-aged guy came and sat on the bench eating some ice cream. He listened to two or three songs, nodding appreciatively at the end of each (he couldn't clap 'cuz his hands were full -- a common problem, playing in front of the ice cream store). After a few more, he said, "I'm gonna go home and burn my guitar..."
A few more after that (he was waiting for his companions), he finally succumbed and dug through his pockets for enough paper money and change to buy a CD.
When his three lady friends showed up, they were impressed as well, and requested another dozen songs before having to leave.
A young couple came up wet from the beach and stopped to hear some songs. She requested a few in her cute British accent, so I asked where they were from: London, and Canada. I wonder how that happened...
A family came by with two little girls in strollers. They looked too young to decide, so I handed the Kids' List to the mom, but she gave it right to the older sister. I was expecting some strife, but she leaned right over to show it to her little sister, and they calmly discussed which song they'd request. "How about this Ariel song?" "Well, what about this one?" I was surprised and charmed.
I took a chance that since the Tommies weren't there on Saturday, they wouldn't be there on Sunday either, and the bet paid off. And it actually turned out to be a better night than Saturday had been, too -- lots of families out, and just more interaction and enthusiasm.
Lots of kids this time -- I must have played "Twinkle Twinkle" half a dozen times. At one point I was playing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" for a little girl, and that attracted the attention of three little girls over on the far bench. I asked them if they wanted to sing along to "Let It Go". They did, and stood up by me to sing, but didn't actually sing at all. Fun for them anyway, I think.
Later on, a guy came by who made sure that anyone within earshot knew that he was "in a band" back home in Minnesota. I guess he figured that that gave him license to sing along loudly on every song. Unfortunately, I'm not a Karaoke machine and many of my songs aren't exactly like the original recordings that he was singing from, so he was off whack a lot. He asked about my harmony box, but then kept trying to sing harmony anyway, though he knew I already had the harmonies covered. It was pretty annoying to me, but maybe the people in front of my speaker were hearing me a lot louder than him. Let's go with that...
A young couple came by and danced to anything and everything. Then an older Latino couple came up and asked me if I knew anything with a Calypso beat. Not really sure -- I don't catalog them that way, so she settled for "Time After Time", which I'm pretty sure doesn't qualify as Calypso, but whatever, and they danced some pretty fancy dance school stuff to that and everything that came after. And then another couple joined in so I had quite a dance party going -- probably the longest one ever.
A Mexican family came by and I gave the little boy my "picture menu" of Kids' Songs, and he pointed at the Lion King picture. I had a feeling that he couldn't read English, and wasn't really asking for "Can You Feel the Love Tonight", but was expecting "Hakuna Matata" or "Just Can't Wait To Be King". I've had people ask for "... Love Tonight" before, and it's a pretty song and I do it well enough, but unless the mood is right, it tends to "clear the room". So this time, I ignored the kid and played "Kiss the Girl", "A Whole New World", and "Please, Mister Postman" which seemed OK with him and kept my crowd intact, thankyouverymuch.
