Saturday was the slowest day down at the harbor so far, but Sunday at brunch time was pretty good. I'm still trying to figure out when the best times down there will be...
On my way walking down to the playing spot, I passed a young girl in the coffee shop employee T-shirt, and she said, "I just want to say that your music is wonderful!" Seems like all the employee kids like me, but I'm still afraid of the "restaurant owner" who came out to harass me the first time I was there. But on Sunday I saw a guy who I'm pretty sure was him and he went about his business without giving me any trouble, so he's either used to me being there or my paranoid volume level is acceptable.
About 2:30 on Saturday I got my first "competition" down there -- a guy came by with a battery-powered keyboard and set up down the way from me, right across from the restaurant. He clearly doesn't have the nearly-impossible-to-come-by Permit, though I think his keyboard qualifies as "amplified sound", even though he was singing without a mic. Because of that, he was pretty quiet, so I couldn't hear much of what he was playing, but what I did catch sounded pretty lame. I considered warning him that he might get kicked out -- both for amplified sound and being less than 40 feet away from a business's door -- but decided that he wasn't much of a threat, and since he'd arrived when it was almost dead on an already very slow day, he'd probably make no money and never come back anyway.
On Sunday, there was a scruffy homeless looking guy in a wheelchair, piled with blankets and with a guitar case strapped over the top. But he was pretty far away, so no problem. After a while, a guy came down to hand me a twenty, saying it came from the wheelchair guy, "extending professional courtesy" (apparently since he plays guitar too). He slowly wheeled closer and ended up asking for several songs, telling me some stories, most of which I couldn't hear, and handing me some more money, and eventually, another twenty.
He says that he lives in Catalina, and "did wars and policing", and recently came into a lot of money and wants to spend it "on music". He's setting up a big concert in Avalon, and wants me to come play and will pay me "three times my rate". Later on, it sounded like he wanted me to just come and play (where? and for whom?), again at three times. He took specifically two (?) of my cards, and said that he'd have his assistant call me. He didn't sound spun out or anything, but I won't be holding my breath. On the other hand, his generous tipping lent some credence...
More people around ('cuz it was earlier, or 'cuz it was Sunday?), but, as in Laguna, having scruffy homeless guys (another even scarier wheelchair guy (Tourette's?) showed up later) wasn't helping me accumulate much of a crowd, so I quit to go get some lunch myself after only (?) three hours.
Another pretty slow night -- maybe everybody's out of town for Memorial Day weekend?
For most of the night there were just a few people there, and they were more interested in talking among themselves than requesting songs. But that gave me a chance to play some stuff that nobody ever requests, just for my own amusement. Not that they're bad songs, just less obvious, and so less requested.
And then, of course, Heather and her husband came in, as they reportedly always do on Fridays -- and Saturdays for Karaoke Night, and several times during the week. She wanted to try "Since I Fell for You", and did great, though it was a bit too high for her. Then she did "You've Got a Friend", as always.
Then it occurred to me -- the song I'm *always* looking for someone to sing with me: "Baby, It's Cold Outside"! Completely wrong season, of course, but Big Chance. She did it great, and I didn't screw up too much -- it's quite confusing for the guitar player/boy part singer because the chords land in weird places during the girl part but I have to catch those and still sing different stuff while tracking her stuff. Anyway, it made the night for me.
Well, it's a good thing that I played a few hours in the morning at Dana Point, 'cuz this was pretty much a bust. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it's that "Graduation Weekend" thing that made the wine bar so empty the night before, but hardly anyone was out.
I got there at 7, coming "late" in hopes that the Fiddle Kid would be done or at least nearly so. And that worked -- the corner was empty, unfortunately both of players and audience. Warren cleverly had gone to the Full Moon Drum Circle instead, so he missed the no-fun.
I did have a few couples and groups stop, briefly -- and I inexplicably sold four CDs. And my little local superfan Natalia came by with her little brother and new baby brother, all crammed into a two-kid stroller. She asked for "Lollipop Tree", which no kids these days have heard. Sometimes kids ask for it by the picture and/or name, but then they're bored 'cuz they don't know it. But Natalia has my CD, and it's her favorite, so it was fun to play it for her.
There was a guy sitting on the bench most of the night with a tiny Pomeranian puppy with a bow in her hair, and people would stop to coo over her. They were almost getting more action than I was -- the guy should have brought a tip jar...
Oh well -- they can't all be great. And summer is a'comin'...
On Saturday I was afraid that I'd be shut out from The Corner in Laguna, despite it being "our turn", so I thought I'd put in at least a little time in Dana Point, just in case.
I also wanted to see how the attendance would be earlier in the day, so on Saturday, I started at 10 and played until noon (to not overdo it, in case Laguna *did* pan out). And it was just as nice as the noon to 4:00 shifts I've been doing, so that's good to know.
I was in the middle of "Hallelujah" when a tiny ancient Latina gramma came around, looking in the trashcans for recyclables. She decided that the song was "religious", and came over to reiterate "Hallelujah" and then "God bless you", and to reach out to grasp my right hand. Which was sweet, but pretty much shut down my ability to fingerpick for a few seconds there...
As always, lots of great looking and cute dogs came through. Unfortunately, most of them disappear before I have a chance to take a picture, but I did catch this very cute long-haired Dachshund with a "puppy cut".
A guy looked through the song list and finally called out something I'd never heard before: "There's not enough 'Boston' on this list!" By a weird coincidence, I'd just earlier in the week played through "More Than a Feeling", in hopes to make something of it (but, no, probably not). I love the guitar part, though, and remembered it well enough to hammer it out for a while, without the vocal, but the guy apparently found that to be Better Than Nothing, at least.
A lady came up to put some money in the jar and she picked up a card and asked me how much I charge for a "private event". I told her and she said she'd be calling me. And later, another lady came up and asked if I played weddings, and for how much. I told her, and she also said she'd be calling, 'cuz "We're engaged!", indicating her boyfriend. People seldom actually do call, but if they do, I just hope neither of them is in, like, Riverside, or Palm Springs, or you know, Utah or someplace.
Mysteriously low turnout this time. One of the bar guys said that it was because it was "Graduation Weekend". Even the owner, Romy, wasn't there for the first time, and she was, indeed, at her daughter's graduation in D.C., so maybe he was right.
So anyway, slow, and quiet. My regular guest star Heather showed up, as she always does, and sang "You've Got a Friend" again. Fortunately, I'd remembered to Google the vocal ranges, and asked her if she'd ever been in a choir, and if so, what part did she sing. It was "Second Soprano", which pretty much corresponds to Baritone (me), but an exact octave higher. So we did "Stardust", but this time I just played it in my key instead of foolishly trying to capo up to find her key, and it worked just fine.
I did have a lady at the middle table who up and decided that I was great and that everybody should be joining in -- my sentiments exactly. So she was out there cheerleadering for me, getting people at other tables to find their favorites on the request lists, and loudly clapping at the end of the songs. Thanks, lady! Come back any time!
But by 9:30 the place was empty and the manager "called it", and I went home. Disappointing, but still better than sitting home and watching TV.
I had time to play both Saturday and Sunday, from 1 until 5 each time. Saturday was a little better, of course, but it's just great to play there any time. Part of it is the novelty, I’m sure, but it’s really my favorite place to play these days. Laguna is more crazy, but that’s both good and bad -- it can be a blast, but sometimes the environmental factors make it feel like more of a fight than a gig.
Anyway, Dana Point is certainly a showcase for dogs. The rich people down there like to come down for a walk and to show off their fancy dogs. One free-spirited older lady had bright purple hair, and had dyed her little dog's flag-tail to match.
It tends to start off slow, and I start off quiet, but as people start to notice me and hang out on the benches, I get more confident that I'm not bothering anybody, and that the restaurant guy will have a mob on his hands if he tries to interfere. And once some people are listening, others get encouraged to join in.
For the last couple of hours on Sunday, a guy was there listening and talking to me about the music between songs. He finally asked, "Do you play anyplace in Laguna, like the Sawdust Festival?" So I told him my sob story about how I played there two years ago and the year before that, but that last year, and again this year, the booking lady has mysteriously overlooked me.
He was aghast, and said that I'm better than lots of the bands he sees there. Yup -- I don't get it either, buddy...
The weather was nice on Saturday - just a little overcast so it wasn't too hot. Sunday was sunny, so I had to forego my uniform vest, and kept my sleeves rolled up. When I got home, I noticed that I'd sunburned the underside of my left arm and the top of my right, corresponding to the way they're positioned when I'm playing guitar. Kinda funny, but I'll have to be careful from now on.
Another pretty good night at the wine bar. It started off pretty quiet but as more people came it got louder and louder, so I had to.
It seems like the way the night will go is dependent on how recently each group of friends has seen the others. Some groups come in and they apparently haven't seen each other in a long time, so they end up in loud happy conversations. Other groups come in and they don't have much to say to each other (or they're "work friends") so they end up listening to the music instead. It's nice to see the former happy type of group but the latter is much more fun to play to.
My Friday regular guest star Heather was there again. At first she tried to sing "Stardust", but we couldn't find a key that suited her range. I am completely mystified by the vocal range of women. She does sing "You've Got a Friend" in the same key that I do it in, but she must be an octave higher. I guess I'd better Google it...
Anyway that failed big time, so we fell back on our reliable favorite "You've Got a Friend'. Later on I coerced her into singing "Part Of Your World" from "The Little Mermaid". She remembered it pretty well and will do even better next time, I'm sure. It sure makes the owner happy for me to let her friend come up and sing. I just hope that's because she likes to hear her friend sing, and not that she's sick of hearing *me* sing.
Still no sign of the guy who was there a few times ago and asked for "Crystal Blue Persuasion". When I said I didn't know it, and probably couldn't pull it off anyway, he decided to ask for it again and again all night as a running joke. So I learned it (but only the first verse) so if he comes in and pulls that joke again, I got him.
Now that I'm playing the senior daycare twice a month, I may need to stop reporting on each one because they go pretty much the same every time. Seems a shame though, since I've done a blog post for every gig I've had for the last 14 years.
I did add a new song to the Senior list: "Charlie on the MTA". It's an old Kingston Trio song, and the chords are trivial, though the words go screaming by. Of course, the song sheet has the chords and the words, it does not indicate *how* the song is played in various ways: speed, picking pattern, how the words land in the rhythm, etc. So I started out one way and that didn't seem right so I tried a different way, and something else, and maybe went back to the first way, and kind of stumbled through it until I figured something out.
You know, it's *hard* to have the unwritten particulars of all 370 songs on the top of my head at the same time at any given gig.
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.
The fiddle kid that blocked me two weeks ago was back, but Warren was there earlier and negotiated him giving way when The Guy With The Top Hat showed up. And he did.
This time he was playing an electric violin through a little amp. A sign in his tip-collecting case said "Graduate School". He must have some amazing hidden chops, 'cuz down here he plays just simple melodies: "Titanic", "The Wedding March", and Christmas tunes (?!?), "Silent Night", "Away in a Manger", "Joy to the World", etc.
Anyway, we had some pretty big groups early on, but not so much as the evening progressed. One of my kids' friends came by with his mom, just out for (pre) Mother's Day. Mom immediately asked for "American Pie", without even looking at the List, and they stayed for 3 or 4 more songs.
Our old "Lagunatic" friend Silly Patty came by after a long recuperating absence. She always asks for an eclectic selection of songs, and then chats up Warren while I'm playing them. Great to have around anyway.
A sweet local lady who's apparently a big fan came by again, with her two little boys. She didn't seem to mind/notice when one of them zoomed across the crosswalk on his little bike -- but the "Walk" signal was on, so I had to assume that she knew that he knew what he was doing. (And I had to remember that Laguna people have a different standard of parenting than the rest of us -- as further evidenced by the 17-year-old, twirl-dancing, self-proclaimed "Canyon Girl" that came by later on).
That was, until he zoomed out again when the Walk signal was *not* on and made an incoming car screech to a halt to not hit him. That finally got her attention off of the iPhone videos she was taking and on to keeping her kids alive. It would have been a pretty sad Mother's Day spent at the hospital...
Anyway, we had some nice groups form, but it wasn't a very lively night. And although I was hoping to rope in some passing-by bar-hoppers in the late evening, it just wasn't happening -- though it *almost* worked with "I Will Survive" and "Purple Rain". And the quiet gave me a chance to play through a few new songs: "When Doves Cry" (which segues into the aforementioned "Purple Rain"), "Ain't No Sunshine", "I Think We're Alone Now", and "Nights in White Satin".
The city of Laguna Beach has three "sister cities", one in France, one in Mexico, and one in England. They put on a May Day tea as some kind of gesture to the English one, St. Ives, and the lady in charge hired me to play. It was held in a (desert) garden at the art college, and there were about 25 people there, mostly older ladies and a few dragged-along husbands.
They had tea (of course) and lemonade and champagne punch, and cookies, finger sandwiches, and (of course) scones -- carefully pronounced "skaahns" to be properly British.
I started off trying to play British songs, but I only have so many of those and after the first 5 or 10 they're not my best material, so that went out the window pretty quickly. Especially since, as soon as I passed out some song lists, the requests weren't aware of the attempted theme.
So it started out like a typical party gig, with me being "background music", but after a while, some ladies migrated to the table in front of me, and got into making requests. More ladies came over, and the chairs all filled up and got moved to become a semi-circle around me, actual audience style. Nice.
I played out the rest of the afternoon with these ladies making request after request. At one point I grabbed a handful of business cards and tossed them on the table, saying, "In case you want to find me again...", and those disappeared into purses, so maybe something will become of that.
Finally, a lady in charge came over and said, "Don't hate me, but can this be your last song?", which was perfect 'cuz it let me quit (nearly) on time, without it being my fault. (Not that I really wanted to quit on time, but I had a date at Disneyland afterwards.)
Overall, it was a perfect gig for me -- nice setting and weather, with rich old ladies with nothing much else to do (and in its first outdoor trial, my new amp "worked a treat", as we say in Old Blighty).
Sign me up for more of these!
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.
