I meant to get down there at 3:00, but at the last minute I realized that I'd had trouble the week before seeing the iPad music book in the bright sun, so I sat down to make a paper copy and burned an hour (and a bunch of paper and ink) before I realized that I'd already done that a year ago. Idiot.
So I got there at 4:00 again, and there were plenty of people to play for, but only for a while. By 6:00 it was pretty empty, except for one guy who sat and listened and played with his phone while I kept playing just because it's so silent and nice down there.
Two little girls (and their dad) came by and surprised me by choosing "Part of Your World" (from "The Little Mermaid") instead of "Let It Go". Maybe "Frozen Fever" is finally wearing off.
So, I wish I'd'a gotten there sooner, but it was a useful exercise to get more comfortable with the spot, to play there and not get hassled by the restaurant guy, and to learn that, yes, earlier is better. Maybe much earlier. Noon-4? 10-2? We'll test that out next weekend.
Last week got cancelled due to a busted bathroom (apparently working bathrooms are a legal requirement -- who knew?), but I agreed to swap with "the other performer" to get to play this week (and stealthily took the opportunity to request another "make up night"). It was already pretty full when I got there, but it was hard to "break in" to the many conversations already in progress. So most of the night was pretty low-interaction, though I coerced a few requests from some of the groups.
Frequent guest star Heather was there, and came up to sing "Landslide" and later on "You've Got a Friend", though I'd already done it several times. (Once, in fact, for a group of younger people who asked for "You've Got a Friend" and when it was over, called out "...Friend In Me", the completely different theme song from "Toy Story". Another tiny lesson in linguistic accuracy, kids.)
And somebody yelled out "Purple Rain!", which got seconded by a lot of others and gave me the opportunity to play my arrangement of "When Doves Cry" that segues into the first verse and a few choruses of "Purple Rain". Glad I didn't learn that for nothing...
Toward the end, a group came in that really made the night worthwhile -- requesting songs one after another. But it was already pretty late, so that didn't last long.
Unfortunately, all night I was under the impression that the "make up night" was next week, but when I was about to leave and said, "OK, see you next week!", the owner cleared up my misconception. Too bad she didn't hear me telling it to customers, over and over all night, and fix my error sooner. I hope the "other performer" appreciates the audience I mistakenly drummed up for him for next week.
I'm now playing at the Senior Daycare twice a month, and it goes about the same every time. I guess this time I decided that the seniors (and certainly the staff) wouldn't mind if I played a few songs that they haven't heard a dozen times already, so I did "City of New Orleans" and "Blackbird", and "Under the Boardwalk" in addition the ones that I always do.
And they went over just as well as the older songs that I play, hoping this audience will know them. I can't tell the difference in the reaction for a song they'd theoretically know, and one that they certainly don't, so I guess it really doesn't matter. No "Purple Rain", though -- that's probably a bit too far...
More than a year ago, I first played by the harbor in Dana Point, and got chased off by the janitor for the use of an amplifier and lack of Permit. I tried to get such a permit, but it required a million dollar insurance policy, and the Permit process was designed for one-time events (weddings, birthdays) and not for "anytime" buskers, so it was seemingly impossible to shoehorn my Intent into their Process. I gave up.
A year later, since Laguna is as difficult to manage (with competition from other bands, drunken bums, etc.) as it is fun to play at, I decided that I really needed a Plan B, so I tried again -- this time with help from my brother and his negotiation and red-tape cutting skills. And after only (?) two months of fighting with the OC Parks Dept. and the Harbor Master's office, and almost $300 for the insurance and fees, I got my Permit to play down there.
And it looks like it's gonna be worth it! Lots of friendly, target-audience-aged, (and rich!) people (many of them with fancy dogs) to play for. Way different than Laguna -- no drunks, no origami palm-frond scam artists, and basically no competition (since it's nearly impossible to get "certified" to play down there). Less foot traffic though, and no Woo-Girls, partiers, or "local color".
Way different timeframe, too. I got there about 4:00 and the patio tables were nearly full, but by 6:30 it was a ghost town. This was a Sunday, so, work night, so maybe Saturday will be a little better, but still -- no bars or galleries means that it's more of a "walk (or jog) for the scenery" kind of place, and less of the "Let's party after dinner" kind.
But! Dead silence. Wonderful quiet to play into. It's so nice to be able to hear myself -- every nuance of the vocal and guitar is audible, which makes it so much easier to really "put it out there". Heaven.
And lots of nice people, who don't normally get live music, especially from their generation, down there, so very appreciative. But they were kind of far away, at the patio tables of the ice cream/coffee shop, so I'd walk out and hand them the song lists, and then people would bring them back with their requests and something for the jar. An inadvertent, but clever, trick. (And somebody gave me two crisp new sequential two-dollar bills. What's up with *that*?)
The only sour note was when a guy came up and asked me to turn it down because I was "disturbing the customers at [his] restaurant" and "interfering with his music" (the radio). He tried to talk me into moving down to the promenade to the south, where he all but said that I could turn it up as loud as I wanted to, but I stood my ground (I have a Permit!), and said that right here was "better for me", but I'd be happy to turn it down (and did). He said that "it wasn't better for [him]", not really under his breath as he walked away. I hope this doesn't turn into a problem...
A guy came up with a fiver and asked if I played "private events" and if I had any cards. I gave him one and he said, "You'll be hearing from me! I'm just down there in that boat", indicating the boat, three out from the seawall, where some people had been hanging out all afternoon. I had been paranoid that I was disturbing them (one of the Conditions of my Permit is that I don't point the amp towards the boats), but apparently they were out listening, not being annoyed. Whew!
A family with tiny kids came by, so I played "Twinkle, Twinkle", and the eldest (maybe 3) seemed to recognize it somewhat. Afterwards, they walked on by, but came back in a while, and the mom put some money in the jar and said, "Thanks for playing 'A-B-C-D' for us! Can you play it again?" I said, "Sure!", though I had actually played "Twinkle", which, of course, has the same tune. So I played it "again", but sang the "A-B-C-D" lyrics. Or tried to -- I got most of the way through it, but I guess singing letters messed up my ability to remember the chords ('cuz they're "letters", too?), and I screwed up the guitar part pretty badly. Embarrassing.
A couple came up and put some money in the jar, thanked me for the "our generation" music, and asked if I played there often, and would I be back next weekend. I said that this was my first time, but that I'd definitely be back, since it seemed to be going well, and nobody'd chased me away yet. The guy thought I was joking and laughed, but I was thinking of my janitor buddy...
That's more like it! The threat of rain didn't seem to keep the people away, and we had a great night, finally, after a pretty lonely winter, especially as it got later and the Party Kids came out. Not a lot of summer tourists yet, but lots of locals out.
A really nice lady sat on the side bench right at the beginning, and stayed a very long time -- practically the whole night. Her son came along and they went away to presumably have dinner, but then they were back, listening and requesting until probably 11:00. Around 9, some other guy came along and joined them too, and he apparently counted the crowd hanging around in The Corner, and went into the ice cream store and bought "a round" -- about a dozen random-flavored cups of ice cream -- and passed them around to us and everyone there! Found homes for *almost* all of 'em, too (see below).
There were lots of other older (i.e., Target Market) couples and families too, and they kept me busy most of the night. I even sold four CDs, and gave away a fingerlight to a little boy from London.
I learned "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes" from "Cinderella" over the previous week, and revised the "Kids' Menu" list to show that and "Someone to Lava". I was surprised when a little girl chose Cinderella as her second request (Elsa (i.e., "Let It Go") was her first, of course (I love how little kids i.d. songs by their characters)), and more surprised that the assembled crowd didn't disperse when I sang it. Usually those slow weepy ones remind people of the dog needing out back home or some such...
Some lady wanted "modern country" a couple of weeks earlier at the wine bar, so I looked up Blake Shelton's greatest hits and learned "Who Are You When I'm Not Looking". I played it late in the night when nobody was there, just to run through it, and unexpectedly collected two "drive-by" tips. People know that guy/song? I guess I really am way out of touch.
Three high school girls came by and totally got into dancing and singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and "Hey There, Delilah". The rest of their gang showed up and joined in for a while, but they apparently had someplace else to be...
Around 10:30, a whole herd of Party People came through just as I was playing "Wagon Wheel". It caught a few of them up, and that tipped the whole group over into a Flash Party, which I kept going by extending the song into several extra singalong choruses. I followed that up with "Margaritaville" and we had some big fun there for a while.
One pretty drunk and awfully pretty girl was clearly baffled and unused to not getting whatever she wanted, but I wouldn't let her play my guitar anyway. Sorry sweetheart, I'm immune to your Hottie Mind Tricks.
An older lady (you know, my age) came along late in the evening and kept exclaiming how great we sounded, and joined in with the Party Kids' flash party, and hung around a long time. Finally she came up and told me she wanted to hire me to play her annual Fourth of July party, and took a card, promising to email me her address so I could come by the next morning to "check out the site" and seal the booking. The email never came, of course, but maybe she'll call before July. Or not.
The threatened rain finally arrived around midnight, but we were still having fun so I just wiped off my iPad screen and kept going until I was starting to detect an electric buzzing through my fingers on the bass string. So I cut the requested "Your Song" short and packed up, fast, as the rain got worse and started ruining my stuff, but before it shorted out any electronics.
One last lady had dropped a buck in the jar as she went past, and didn't notice that she had tipped it over and right into the trash can. I had to dig the jar and a lot of spilled money out, and a bunch of it had landed in an uneaten cup of, naturally, chocolate ice cream that our earlier benefactor hadn't been able to give away. I wiped it off as best I could with rain-soaked napkins, stuffed it back in the jar, and cleaned the rest up when I got home.
So, big fun and eventful night. And all things considered, I'd much rather be chased home by a light rain than a belligerent drunk, any day.
Wow -- big night! Unlike previous weeks, the place was jumping even before I got there, and was Loud all night long. That was helped along by the mini reunion put together by my wife and her three best friends (and spouses) from high school. It's a good thing I had reserved them a table!
Anyway, pretty fun, but a bit tough to play in because it was nearly as rowdy as a "regular" bar. But I just kinda of favored my louder kinds of songs and went with it.
Plenty of requests, but frequently with my favorite dysfunction: Somebody requests a song and two songs after I've played it, they request it again, 'cuz they didn't notice I already played it. Or somebody will request a song that I just played, 'cuz they didn't really hear it but it registered in their brain somewhere. I just have to keep reminding myself: Wine bar.
The owner dragged another one of her regular karaoke friends up to sing a song, and he chose "Tiny Dancer" (after flirting with "Wild Horses"). He was decent, but dragged the tempo. Am I playing it too fast?
And frequent guest singer Heather was there again, but this time she chose "Landslide" and did a bang up job. I'm not sure I want to turn into a karaoke machine, but it makes the owner happy to have her friends get to sing, so I'm in. In moderation...
Another of my now twice-a-month gigs for the old folks. I tried to play some different songs, and learned "Crazy" by Patsy Kline (written by Willie Nelson) just for this place, since they seem to really like my other (to them) Patsy Kline song, "South of the Border".
And this time I brought the ukulele, just to mix it up some. I played "Ain't Misbehavin'" and "Five Foot Two" on it, to great response. These folks remember ukulele music from back before Tiny Tim made it impossible to be seen with one in public. Fortunately, that stigma has finally worn off.
Since this is a "memory issues" daycare, some of the people exhibit some strange behavior. One or another of them will frequently just get up and walk away, and one of the workers there will leap up and follow them out to see what they're up to, if anything, and bring them back. It reminds me of a litter of puppies on the kitchen floor -- you have to keep rounding them up.
This time one lady got up six or seven times, heading straight for the door. The worker would bring her back and sit with her, but pretty soon she was up again. One time she was clever enough to wait until some other person wandered off so the worker was already occupied, so some of the lesser-impaired people made sure to keep an eye on her so she wouldn't get too far. And here's me, just singing along like nothing's happening. Maybe she just can't stand James Taylor...
The guy from Tennessee who's been there visiting his sister for the last few gigs was there again one last time. After the last song he jumped up for a one-man standing ovation, and then he came up to slip me forty bucks and say, "Git yeself a nice dinner someplace", and some other nice things. It's nice to have a fan.
I got a text from the owner asking me if I was available since the guy who was supposed to be there this Friday "might" be too sick. I said yes, and she just decided to tell the other guy not to come.
(A) It's nice that I'm the guy she calls to fill in, and (B) it's nice that she's willing to just outright cancel the other guy in favor of me (well, not so nice for him...). The other employees there also make it pretty clear that I'm the best act they've got, and although that's a microscopic pond, it's flattering to be the best fish in it.
I guess people are getting used to the time change by now, 'cuz there were people already there when I got there this time. And the "song lists on the tables, request something" thing caught on pretty well, with people noticing other people doing it, so they did it too. And the owner and bar guy were bringing requests over from the people at the bar, who feel too far away to shout one out to me. Not sure why they bring a physical list over and point at a song on it instead of, you know, just saying it, but whatever.
There was an older couple at the closest table, and the guy wanted to request some songs, but he couldn't remember any songs from their titles. So he kept asking me "What's 'Peace Train'?" and "What's 'Watching the Detectives'?", etc., apparently going for songs strictly by the curiousness of their titles. I usually get that kind of behavior from little kids who want "the song about the lollipops" just because it's about lollipops. Strange.
I usually give new songs a Real World tryout down at The Corner in Laguna 'cuz it's less formal, but I took a chance on the song I'd learned two days earlier, Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman". It's a decidedly "written on a piano" song with chords that you don't much encounter on guitar, but I worked out a way I can manage it, and it worked pretty well.
Anyway, it was a really good night. Usually the owner and bar guy are occupied chatting up "regulars" at the bar and ignore me, but this week they both spent a lot of time just staring at me, listening. That felt good.
