When I came to Dana Point on Tuesday it seemed like a great place to play, so I thought I'd try a Saturday, especially since The Corner in Laguna is blocked all the time these days.
Turns out, it's not really the "night spot" that Laguna is, so not many people came by. Of course, it was kind of cold, too, but it seems like, since there's not much to do down there, people don't come to just hang out -- most folks were walking their dogs or jogging.
But it's really quiet and the people who did come by were very appreciative. The tips per person ratio was really high, so I did really well, even with the thin traffic.
I started about 6:15 and had fun until 8:30 when a little electric utility vehicle came screaming up with "Wayne", the custodian (superintendent?), busting me for playing without a permit. He says I can get a permit from the Harbor Master for an unknown price, and then I can play, away from the businesses, and without an amp. He threatened, several times, to call the cops if I didn't leave, and insisted on staying and watching me tear down to make sure that I wouldn't start back up once he'd left.
All the long-time buskers say that playing music on public property is First Amendment protected free speech, but Wayne wasn't swayed by that argument. Indeed he wouldn't (or couldn't) tell me what part of the sidewalk was "public" versus "owned by these businesses" (I was near the coffee & ice cream shop).
Wayne was a classic, cartoonish, Little Tyrant. I was afraid that he was going to pull out a string of pearls just so he could clutch them in horror at my breaking of The Rules. I suppose I should have let him call the cops, just to see if they could quote me some specifics on what is and isn't allowed, but the traffic was nearly gone anyway, and I didn't want to get into it, so I packed up (under his watchful eye) and left.
But it was fun while it lasted, and a lady asked me for a card, saying that she worked at the St. Regis hotel and might want to hire me for events there, so maybe something will come of that.
I guess I'll have to do some research into this alleged Permit, and see if I can figure out how to play down there without incurring Wayne's wrath.
I decided that it was time to just march into Tommy Bahama (on PCH just a block south of The Corner) and ask the manager if I could play there. So I did and they told me that the General Manager made those decisions, but he wasn't in -- come back tomorrow.
Deflated but smarter, I came back and asked for the GM, gave him a flyer and CD, and asked what I have to do. He said that I needed to audition, but that he was going on a week-long trip tomorrow. I told him that I had my stuff in the car and could play right now, and he agreed.
That turned out to be a mistake in several ways. One, my car was far away and all uphill, so by the time I was back with the stuff and started, I was winded and sweating. Two, it was only late afternoon, so the place was nearly empty and not really ready to join in yet. And three, although the GM didn't mention it, there was another guy coming in to play the evening set.
So I played my nine best songs to the backs of the half-dozen people at the bar and the Sports TV, getting some nice smiles and two dollars, but not much else. And the GM spent almost the whole time in his office where he *might* have been able to hear me, but certainly couldn't gauge the crowd's reaction, such as it was.
Then the other guy walked in with his guitar case, gave me a "What the heck?" look, and continued on to find the GM. Who came out and thanked me and all, and said he'd call, but I could tell it hadn't gone well. (And, of course, he never called.)
I tore down as fast as I could and took my stuff back to the car. But I couldn't resist coming back to stand outside and hear what this other guy sounded like. And frankly, I'm way better than him. He just stood there strumming country rock songs like "Cripple Creek". Competent, but that's all.
But of course, it's not all about skill. Maybe the GM just liked his repertoire better than mine. Or he's the nephew, who knows?
But it's certainly put a damper on my enthusiasm for trying to find an indoor/paying gig. Now I'm afraid to even try other places, for fear of burning more bridges. Drat.
We went down to Dana Point Harbor on Sunday to walk the dogs, and I took the opportunity to scope it out as a place to play when the ice cream corner in Laguna is unavailable. There's a wide, presumably "public", walkway all along the harbor. At the south end, it's basically "promenade" space, with a guy playing jazz lead over backing tracks through an amplifier. He was pretty good, but his repertoire ("All of Me", "Theme from the Odd Couple", etc.) wasn't very well received. The fact that he wasn't getting chased away or hassled about his amplifier was a good sign for me.
North of that, there's a big outdoor seating area for the coffee/ice cream shop that probably holds 100 people. It was completely full on Sunday, but there were only eight people there on a Tuesday night. I went into a little shop next to the coffee shop and asked the lady if she ever saw people playing music out there, and she said that sometimes there are "kids" in the summer.
But it felt a bit presumptuous to start playing for so few people, so, just to get my feet wet and start feeling comfortable playing there, I went down to the promenade. And it's a pretty nice place to play. People jogging or walking dogs, and no car traffic noise. After it got dark, I paused between songs and could hear crickets behind me! And seals barking in the distance, out in the harbor. It actually gave me a chance to really hear my sound and tune the bass and treble controls for once.
A homeless guy came by on a skateboard, with a guitar and a single bongo drum. He stopped and started emptying his pockets onto the ground, and finally found what he said was his last quarter to put in the jar. He kept digging for another couple of songs, looking for a guitar pick. Failing that, and since I didn't have one to loan him (and probably also deciding that he couldn't really play along with the kind of stuff I do), he gave up and skated away.
I had brought out only the minimum stuff to start playing, and surprised myself that I could play for an hour from memory. I had several families come by to play kids songs for, and a lady who wanted to dedicate "Bridge Over Trouble Water" to her friends. And a guy who came up to tell me that I sounded so good, he thought it was a party up the hill at the Marriott.
Two ladies jogged by, and one stopped to call out in her Australian accent, "Is that *you* singing!?!" I stopped the song to reply, "I think so -- it sure *sounds* like me!"
There was a mild Santa Ana wind condition, so it was a nice warm evening in January, with lots of foot traffic out. So even though the Tommies were on the ice cream corner, I figured I could do OK on the Fingerhut side.
But I like it when people stay a while, for which they need someplace to sit. So I decided to reverse the arrangement, and stand up against the building and let the people sit on the low wall or the bench. And it worked pretty well -- I had quite a lot of people come by. I was worried that my sound would be shooting straight across at the Tommies, but Tom never came over to complain, so maybe it was OK.
Or at least a lot less annoying than the (quite good) rock band that was playing in the art school's gallery. It wasn't so bad when the doors were closed, but every time someone would go in or out, it was really loud.
I had a little girl, maybe five years old, with her mom and dad and baby brother stop and listen for 4 or 5 songs before wandering off. But about 5 minutes later, they came back, apparently at the little girl's insistence. I said, "You know, your twin sister was just here a few minutes ago." Her parents laughed, but she just quietly said, "It's me..."
About 9:00, Tom took the kids home, so Warren and I moved over, and things picked up considerably. Unfortunately, the gallery people propped the doors open (must have been getting hot in there), so we had some pretty strong sonic competition. I had to stick with just my loudest songs, "Sweet Caroline", "Cinnamon Girl", etc. I even played "Friends in Low Places", which slowed down a flock of Woo Girls, but didn't quite manage to stop them. I told Warren that maybe we needed to start serving alcohol.
My wife takes her therapy dog down to the local Senior Day Care once a month, and suggested to the coordinator that I could come and do a Christmas Concert. I did that, and the lady was so impressed that she asked me to come back on a monthly, paid, basis. So this was the first one of those.
I went through my song book to create a list of the oldest songs that hopefully the seniors would recognize. I put in some of my best Beatles, James Taylor, and John Denver songs, but mostly the songs that I'd learned to make my "Tribute to My Dad" CD of the folksinger era songs he'd done when I was a kid. Stuff like "Jamaica Farewell", "Try to Remember", and "Moon River".
So it was a lot of fun. The place has great acoustics and the old folks are very polite and appreciative -- the ones who stay awake, anyway. At the Christmas concert there was a guy who couldn't stop talking. He wasn't there this time, but was replaced by another guy who insists on drumming on his thighs for nearly every song. At least he stays in time, but it's distracting -- especially, I imagine, for the lady sitting next to him. But at the end of every song, he's loudly appreciative, calling out "Wonderful!" or "Terrific!" or "Magnificent!", so it's a mixed bag.
The biggest problem is trying to discern what "works" and doesn't. I get the exact same response -- a polite round of applause and Sherm's hyperbolic shout -- regardless of fast or slow, new or old. I'm used to being able to tell what is and isn't working so I can "do more of that", but this crowd is so polite that they're unreadable.
Oh well, I guess I can take it as "Anything is great!" so I can play whatever I want.
I got to the corner at 6:00 and was bummed to find the Tommies already there. I sure didn't expect to see them so early in the year, but they've moved closer and gas is cheaper, so I guess we're stuck with them.
I set up on the Fingerhut side and played to my reflection in the window for a while, but although I had a few interested people, they don't stay long when there's no place for them to sit.
Warren rolled up at 7:30 and pretty soon a couple came up with their son and they had just bought him a guitar like Warren's, and he'd taken two lessons so far, so they hung around to let him watch and get some inspiration/aspiration.
And a guy came by who was completely impressed and wondered why we weren't playing someplace real, and I said that I've been wondering the same thing. He suggested a place called the Village Inn in Balboa, so I guess I should check that out.
Finally the Tommies relinquished the ice cream corner about 9:30, so we moved over and played for some very polite teens for quite a while. Even though it was pretty cold, we did snag in a few people. One lady stopped dead in her tracks for "Margaritaville" (really?), and then asked for "Leaving on a Jet Plane", which she captured in its entirety on video. That's always flattering.
During the week, I'd discovered a tuning/capo trick that lets me get set up to play Fleetwood Mac's "Never Going Back Again" without completely screwing up my guitar, so it becomes feasible to play it. So I did, 3 or 4 times. It's really flashy and tends to make people stop and stare, so I'll have to remember to polish it up and pull it out more often.
Hi Mom. I know you're not around to read these stories about my gig adventures anymore, but you'll always be the one I'm telling them to as I write them down, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have wanted me to stop, so I'm just going to pick up where I left off.
At the "Jamboree" that I played two weeks ago, the manager of the "Cultural Alliance of Long Beach" gallery (Tom) came up afterward and invited me to come back and do a night solo. Sounded like a great way to get started/introduced to the Long Beach music scene, but the weather didn't cooperate. Literally nobody came out in the rain, so I played the whole time to Tom and his lieutenant, Victor.
But the sound was good and they were an appreciative audience, so it was kinda fun anyway. Tom kept going downstairs with a stack of fliers to try to drum up some audience, but there was literally no one around. Nice of him to try, though.
I had been getting emails from a lady who had apparently heard me somewhere and wanted to come see me again for her husband's birthday. But the rain scared them off, too. Oh well.
Afterwards, the guys advised me to try the places in Bixby Knowles, the affluent area of Long Beach. Nice idea, but I don't really know how to do that. They also apparently felt bad about my spending the whole night playing only for them, so they bought CDs and outrageously overstuffed my tip jar. And of course Tom promised to reschedule me for another try, hopefully on a nicer night.
They didn't really need to feel so bad -- it's not like I could have been playing out on the street corner in Laguna in the rain anyway...
I saw a notice on Facebook that they were looking for musicians for the upcoming Saturday night at a place called "Viento y Agua" (Wind and Water) in Long Beach. I looked it up and it's a funky coffee shop with a "Day of the Dead" theme. It looked fun, and got good reviews, so I sent a message to the booking lady, and she set me up.
Unfortunately, the way it works is three bands play for an hour each, minus 15 minutes setup time for the next band. That meant that I'd be driving an hour, playing for 45 minutes, and driving another hour home. For no pay. But I thought I'd do it at least once, just to get some experience paying in this kind of place, and to have it on my list, since it's well known, at least in the Long Beach music scene.
I left really early, and traffic was light, so I got there way too early. But I figured that, since I was the first one on, I could just start early. Unfortunately, the girl behind the counter didn't agree -- there's a paid sound person coming (Wait -- the sound person gets paid, but the musicians don't?!?), so I shouldn't play with the equipment, etc. So I got my stuff ready, and had plenty of time to look at the too-young clientele and worry that my stuff was gonna flop here...
The sound person, Allesandra, finally arrived, and was much more friendly, and I was ready to go in no time. To get the right mix and volume, she wanted me to play something, so I played bits of Elton John's "Your Song". The dozen or so people, despite being all involved in their computers and homework, all perked right up and seemed ready for me to play some songs. I fired up "You've Got a Friend", since I can play it in my sleep so it's a good one when I'm nervous. And they liked it.
I said, "Well, if you're all gonna be *listening* and such...", and passed out my song lists to every table. Right away, they wanted this and that song, and we were off. Sometimes, when I put out the lists, people choose kind of lame songs, and when I'm limited for time, that's no good. But these people magically chose all my best stuff, so it was pretty close to the set I'd have chosen by myself. Except for a few unexpected choices: the guy who wanted to hear "Kiss the Girl" from "The Little Mermaid", and the girl who wanted "Beauty and the Beast", and Allesandra asked for "Ruby Tuesday".
The time went too fast, but every song landed well and got a nice round of applause. Allesandra puts out a tip jar, and people actually got up out of their seats to walk up to the front and put something in it. It barely paid for the gas to get there and back, but I had a great time, while it lasted.
After me they had booked a bluegrass band with six people, who could barely fit on the little stage. There was no third band on the chalkboard schedule, so either they couldn't find anybody, or there's a possibility that a band can book two slots. I left two CDs with Allesandra, one for herself and one to pass on to the booking lady, so hopefully I can get a better berth next time.
