Keith in Dana Point -- Sunday, 08May2016

Based on my experiences the previous times, and considering that it was Mother's Day, I decided to go down at noon this time. The parking lot was full, but it looked like that was mainly attendance at the restaurants, 'cuz the promenade and patio areas were not much more crowded than usual. Which is still plenty good enough for my purposes.

It occurred to me that this always plays out like meeting people at, say, a party for the first time. I start out quiet and shy and playing my best stuff, and people start to notice me. Some of them move a little closer, or quit hiding their gazes towards me. I get braver and play a little louder, and more lively songs. Then they get braver and some of them come and sit on the benches closer and closer to me. I get braver yet, and start talking to them and bringing out song lists, and they start making requests... All just a little dance we do.

Anyway, the way this place is laid out, I'm pretty far away from even the closest people on the benches. But the sound carries surprisingly far, and people at the far away tables can hear the music. What's really amazing is that lots of people that are very far away, and could totally get away with just walking away when they're done with their coffee or ice cream, will walk twenty or thirty yards to come put something in my tip jar. Flattering!

There were lots of nice people out on such a fine Mother's Day. Unfortunately, I don't know any Mother's Day songs -- unless you count that Paul McCartney song about his mother, Mary...

Plenty of families with Mom in tow, but lots of the usual walkers, dog tenders, joggers, and bicyclists, too. After a while, the close benches that always start out empty were completely filled up. And by four o'clock when I had to go before they ticketed my car, people were begging me not to leave ("Where's your car? We'll move it for you!").

So, a really nice day. Nice area and scenery, nice (and generous) people, easy and free (if time-limited) parking, quiet environment, no competition for the best spot (so far), and no bums.

The only real flaw is the fear. I'm still just waiting for someone from the Harbor or Parks Department to come up and challenge my right to play where/when/how loud I'm playing (possibly by inventing some arbitrary new Rule), and that restaurant guy who came out to grumpily ask me to turn it down the first time didn't help. Every time I see someone striding forcefully toward me, I get a jolt of adrenaline -- even though, so far, it's always been to put some money in my jar. But hopefully after playing there a couple (dozen?) more times -- assuming no unpleasant incidents -- I'll relax.