Keith in Dana Point -- Sunday, 24Apr2016

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...