The thing you fantasize will happen, finally actually did: Standing on the corner playing in Laguna, a lady comes up and asks if I play parties. I said yes and gave her a card, and she actually called. And actually hired me.
It was the party/dinner after a women's golf tournament at the fancy schmancy Mission Viejo Country Club. She had decided on a "Mission: Impossible" theme, complete with movie poster and Tom Cruise cardboard standup. Many of the ladies in attendance were dressed as "spies". The coordinator had asked me to learn the Mission: Impossible theme song, but it can't be played on solo guitar, so I downloaded the MP3 instead, and they were very pleased when I played it as background music while they were announcing the winners of the tournament.
Mostly I was just background music for the 100 or so rich ladies at this dinner party, except occasionally one of the ladies would suddenly applaud for a particular song. And sometimes one of them would walk up and whisper that, although it didn't seem like they were listening, they really loved my songs.
And toward the end when the place had emptied out to about 20 ladies, they noticed that I had song lists and I started playing requests and it got to be actual fun.
I don't really like being background music, but I did get paid, so I left a flyer and business card with the Event Manager there at the Country Club, and hopefully she'll call me when someone needs music at another event.
I went down on the off chance that the Tommies wouldn't be there, but they were. I figured I'd play on the Fingerhut side until they left, but the cops were out in force busting the crazy Hawaiian guy (Tom says he gets like this when he goes off his meds), so I thought better of it and just sat on the bench, talking with Tomi's little brother and big sister. I gave them a couple of the white fingerlights which none of the little kids want, but they're useful as pocket flashlights for these kids who are perpetually "camping".
They left at 8:30 so I fired up, but it was very slow. Last day of Spring Break. I did have an elderly couple sit and listen for a long while and buy a CD. The lady said that she'd "enjoy playing it by the fireplace and listening to my soothing voice". That was sweet.
I also had a family from Kentucky. I gave the kids some (colored) fingerlights, and the mom asked for "Puff, the Magic Dragon" 'cuz she "knew all the words". A lot of people think they know "all the words" but it turns out they only really know the chorus, but this lady really did.
Her daughter had ordered three scoops (!) of Cookies and Cream ice cream, but she could only get through two of them. They offered the final one to me, and I asked the little girl, "How did you know my favorite flavor?" She smiled and said that it was hers, too.
And another of my superfans came by. This time I got to talk to him a while (since there was nobody else around). He lives in the San Fernando Valley, and drives down for the atmosphere, the beach, and my music. I hope it's mainly the first two, 'cuz I'd hate to think he drives down just hoping that I'll be playing.
I played his favorite song ("Fields of Gold") for him and one other, and then a couple showed up, looked through the list, and asked for "Fields of Gold". I'm glad it's his favorite, 'cuz he got/had to hear it twice.
I went down to Laguna to talk to the guys at the Guitar Shoppe about ordering a guitar, so I got the ice cream corner really early at 5:30. Warren joined me about 6:30, and we played until 10:30 when the batteries died.
Lots of people out. We had one group whose requests were in a very strange accent so I asked where they were from -- Iceland. And we had a group of guys from Italy that bought a CD to take home. A couple of times we had people dancing, and that's always fun. A couple of teenaged girls were standing off to the side asking for "The Boxer" and "Homeward Bound" and other classic songs. Their parents are clearly raising them right.
And my favorite superfan Vietnamese couple came by. It's been a while since I've seen them, and it was great to get to play for their warm enthusiasm. Unfortunately, they got there pretty late, and my battery died after only a half dozen songs.
I wouldn't normally go down on a Monday night, but I thought maybe, since it was Spring Break. But no, not many people, maybe because of the cold snap.
Right at first there were some teenage boys, and one of them asked me if I was setting up or tearing down. When I said that I was setting up, he called to the other 3 or 4 guys, "Hey guys, let's stay. This guy's good!" That was flattering, especially coming from a teenager.
But probably part of the reason I couldn't gather an audience was that the street lady who usually quietly camps out at the farthest bench was up in arms about something. She was yelling at invisible people, explaining her grievances, but she'd only really shout while I was in the middle of a song. When I wasn't playing, she'd quiet down, so I couldn't really tell what she was on about.
I think maybe it was that she wasn't being able to get a taxi. Several of them came by and she'd go talk to the driver without getting in, and then they'd leave without her. I don't know why they wouldn't take her -- maybe she had no money. Or maybe she wanted to be taken to, I don't know, Kentucky. Or Venus. Unfortunately, getting belligerent with people who weren't there wasn't really solving the issue. It took a while, but she did eventually find a taxi that would have her, but while she was ranting, anyone who might have stopped, didn't.
Later on, a tiny little street lady I'd never seen before came by. She didn't quite have both oars in the water, and was rambling on about something, even though I couldn't hear her since, you know, I was singing. But she dropped a Chapstick in my tip jar and wandered off before the song was over. A while later, she came back, and this time she produced a shopping bag from a pocket of her pack, and put that in my jar. Again I was singing so I couldn't hear (or decipher) what she was on about, but my guess at the time was that there was a Pavilions coupon in the bag, and she was giving it to me as a tip.
But when I got home and opened it, it turned out to be a bag of "treasures": a bottle cap, a quartz rock, a backless earring, some kind of seed pod, a blank nametag, and a little wad of clear plastic. It's so sweet that she liked my music enough to part with her precious things.
What's that thing about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I was hoping that Easter would draw some crowds down to Laguna, but I was wrong. Again. Make a note: Holidays never work. Any holiday. All the holidays.
I played on the Fingerhut side from 6:30-8:30 when the Tommies gave up. But traffic was light on either side, so it didn't make much difference. I did have a few groups gathered; a big group of young kids from Chile, and a little family from Sweden. The Swedish girl came up and requested a song from the list -- Surprise! "Let It Go".
And at the end, a guy and his wife listened for a while, then he got up and bought a CD. They listened for a while more, then as they got up to leave, he came over and kind of showed me the CD and said "This will be played in Peru." Cool.
Somebody recommended I play at Bogart's Coffee Shop in Seal Beach, so I emailed them and got an immediate response and invitation to play! Apparently, they have music all the time, so anybody's welcome to come down.
It turns out to be a tiny shop, across the street from the beach and the Seal Beach pier, and just a few shops down from their Main Street. (Which I drove down while looking for parking, and saw a three piece band out on the sidewalk, with banjo, acoustic, and electric (with an amp!) guitars, in plain view of some cops across the street. Good sign -- maybe I'll give that a try someday.)
Anyway, the place was full most of the night, but that's not saying too much since there are probably 10 chairs in there. But friendly, and lots of requests, including the two baristas who wanted "I See the Light" (from "Tangled") and "Mrs. Robinson", respectively.
And there were apparently two ladies sitting on a bench just outside, listening to the music and enjoying the view. They came in to buy a CD each and recommend that I try another coffee shop in Long Beach called "Portfolio", but they had to go back outside 'cuz it was warm in there and they were too bundled up to sit inside.
And the lady who wanted to come hear me at CALB for her husband's birthday but never showed, finally did make it, and they stayed the whole time. Very sweet.
One of the coffee girls set up an iPhone and sent the night out as a Live Stream. At the end she said that 10 people had watched (at least a little), including the shop owner. Internet Famous.
I guess I'd play there again, but it's an awful long drive for such a small, mostly fixed, crowd. I don't mind playing for a dozen people, but on the street corner, I get a constantly revolving set of a dozen, not just one. And the parking was *terrible*!
When I was done, I drove down Main Street to check it out. Bars, restaurants, a psychic, souvenir shops, ice cream, pizza. A lot like Laguna or Santa Barbara, really, but no art galleries. A lady was out singing and playing an autoharp, so I parked (easy at 10, impossible at 7) and listened a bit. I put a buck in her can and asked for Joni Mitchell, so she launched into "Clouds", with mostly wrong chords. But she was sincere, and just being out there is half the battle, so good for her.
I've sworn off Art Walk several times now, but I was hoping that it would be different, here in Spring Break. I was wrong.
I'd hoped that Sanchez would be on the Fingerhut side, but he had taken the ice cream side. I decided to go on over to Fingerhut, but as I walked past him, Sanchez growled, "Two guys playing on the same block doesn't work." I said, "Oh, well" and kept on going. To which he threatened, "OK, I'll see you on Saturday! And I'll bring the *big* amp!" And here I thought that when I grew up, there wouldn't be any more bullies on the playground.
I walked across the street to where Warren was and told him what Sanchez had said. We agreed that it wasn't worth the risk, so we went up the street to find that the Tunnel was empty and set up there. It's amazing that Sanchez can threaten and intimidate and prevent us from playing. But he just simply can.
It was already late, and the traffic was poor, so it was pretty awful. Definitely the last Art Walk for me.
But in our brief time playing, the high and low point was a black lady with her teenage sons walking by, but she stopped and said, "I want to hear these guys play something." I gave her the list, and she skimmed through it and said, "What's that song about the house of the rising sun?" Hmmm, lemme think. That would be "House of the Rising Sun", but I told her that I don't know it. (Sure, I can play it, but I can't (won't?) scream-sing like Eric Burdon.) So she checked the list again and said that there were no good songs on it. Wow -- first time anyone's ever said that.
So she walked away, and I started up "Bridge Over Troubled Water". She stopped, came back, pulled out her phone, and took a video of the entire song. Apparently there is at least *one* good song on the list...
Pretty great! Spring Break makes every day almost like a Saturday. Lots of people to play for, tourists and locals. Lots of small families, which is great for me, with my inventory of kids' songs. And for some reason, it seemed like "Ladies' Night" 'cuz there were lots of groups of partying ladies out, too.
We had people around all night long, with lots of requests. One guy came up and told me that he'd been living in Laguna Beach for 45 years, and we were the best street band he'd ever heard. That was certainly flattering...
We had the ice cream corner, and Rasta Ross stayed on the Fingerhut side, so we only had one homeless guy and his backpack on the bench. I was hoping he'd get bored and move on, but no such luck, and he never did catch on that maybe he could make a little more room on the bench for other people. I shoulda said something, but I'm not that guy. The one-legged (and drunk) guy came by for a while, but he demanded some Pink Floyd and when I told him I don't know any Pink Floyd songs, he got mad, threw me an insult, and stormed off. You just can't please all the people all the time.
Spring Break! We can go down on a Monday and have a pretty great crowd. Happily, no Sanchez, and no Tommies! We did have Rastaman Ross on the bench the whole night, but he wasn't taking up too much of it.
Lots of families, so lots of kids. I must have played "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" half a dozen times. A little girl from Chicago came up to sing "Let It Go" with me, but she didn't actually know the words. Cute anyway.
I was playing "I'm Yours" for some teenagers when a kooky face-painted hippie/gypsy lady came running across the street to yell "I love this song!" and crazily dance to it. Never seen her before, and she was a little too much for the tourists, but she was fun to have around for a while.
Later on, a huge group of vacationers came by -- must have been 25 people. Two of the girls were having birthdays, so we sang the song, and tried to shoehorn both names in. It got confusing because there were so many conflicting requests coming in at once. It turned into a dance party with "Brown Eyed Girl" and some of the teens wanted to sing along with "Part of Your World" from "The Little Mermaid". After 6 or 8 songs, a little girl wanted to hear "Beauty and the Beast", which is a pretty song and all, but it just completely brought the party to a halt, and all but the little girl and her mom decided it was time to move on. I'm going to have to be more judicious when asked to do a song that I know isn't conducive to the existing vibe.
Around 8:00, the kids from the ice cream shop came out and offered us some ice cream. I shouldn't really have any because dairy kludges up your singing parts, but it's yummy and free and sometimes I think it actually helps to coat my throat a little. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself as I eat it.
Later on, the kid came out again with a clear cup with some caramel-colored stuff in it with white foam on top. I didn't know what it was, and didn't have a chance to even try it until I was all done and packing up. Turns out it was some kind of coffee drink -- I don't really know 'cuz I don't drink anything coffee related. Sure surprised me, though -- they're not a coffee shop, so I had expected something caramel-ish, from the color. But thanks for the thought, guys...
Anyway, it was a great night. I love being able to be a part of the tourists' vacation memories, especially if there are kids to make it more special.
It's officially Spring Break, so we went down to see if the tourists had arrived. And they had.
I had to set up on the Fingerhut side, since the Tommies were on the ice cream side, of course. Even before I was entirely set up, a little girl who I know from my Santa Claus gigs showed up with her family. She's quite the firecracker, so I played a bunch of kids' songs for her, and she did her lyrics-miming dance moves. That attracted a lot of smiles from the passers-by, and I couldn't help but feel like I was finally competing with the Tommies' cute with some cute of my own.
Warren got there an hour later, and a friend of his with her friend from Romania came by. The Romanian friend wanted to hear "Pure Imagination", even though she'd never heard it, nor seen the movie. She just liked the name.
Pretty quick, the Tommies packed up, so we happily moved over to "the good side". It wasn't like a Saturday, but plenty of happy Spring Breakers came by to ask for songs. My super friendly Middle Eastern superfan came by and stayed for a long time, as he always does. He drives all the way down from The Valley just to hear me play. Wow.
Toward the end, the owner of the ice cream store came out with some visiting (from Iran, maybe?) relatives -- an older guy and a pretty young lady, maybe his niece. She wanted to hear "Hotel California", "Hey There, Delilah", and "Over the Rainbow". She was appreciative, and the ice cream guy was beaming, like a proud papa -- he loves having me there. I like to be on his good side, too, so I brought my last CD over to the lady and told her it was a present. I'm pretty sure ice cream guy snuck a twenty into my jar though, despite my insistence.
After we were all packed up and just chatting, a (pretty tipsy) couple came by and the guy said, "Hey, play me a song!" So I just fired up "Hotel California", since I have it memorized, and it was late enough to be quiet enough that they could hear me without the amp. They listened appreciatively, and he dug a bill out of his wallet and kind of balanced it on my gear. After they'd left, I discovered that it was a ten dollar bill -- a pretty good tip for one song.
Since the Long Beach gig was a fiasco, but mercifully over at 8:00, I drove down the coast to Laguna to see if I could salvage any of the night. The Tommies were just packing up, so I started about 9:30, and Warren joined in at 10. It was quite a bit better than the night before -- lots of people stopped, and less of a bum problem, too.
Only problem was my left (chording) hand started to cramp up really bad around 10:30. Every time I'd lay it out straight to do a barre chord, it would freeze that way, and I couldn't bend it for the next chord. I was trying to adjust my chord fingerings to use the next three fingers (since most non-barre chords only need three), but that was tricky to do on the fly while I was also having to, you know, keep singing and all.
Toward the end, a guy I call "Singalong Chris" came by. He really, really appreciates my guitar playing, but mostly because I play songs he likes to sing. And he does. I'm sure he'd love it if I'd just shut up, but it's *my* show.
There were two other guys from "back East" there, and hearing Chris sing, they decided that this was just a big singalong session, and joined in. I guess all we were lacking was a campfire...
Well, another nightmare gig at the Shoreline Village annex of the Cultural Alliance of Long Beach. There's a stage down on the actual boardwalk, and the CALB guys talked the landlord into booking me there, instead of trying, again, to play upstairs in their gallery. Or so they thought.
When I got there, someone else was already half set up, and wasn't going anywhere. The CALB guy, Tom, didn't know how the double booking happened, but we had no choice to just try again upstairs.
And it was as bad as usual -- only a few couples came up, though my brother and his wife came, so that was better than nothing. And the last hour or so, for some reason, a couple of families came by to play with the Legos, so I got to play a bunch of kids' songs.
But all that was after the parking nightmare. As usual, the Village parking lot was full, so I had to park a half mile away in the city lot, and pay a fortune for the two hour max.
And since I thought I was playing an outdoor stage, I had to haul the whole "Big Rig" in. Tom said that all you have to do is circle a few times, and when we went down, there was a space right out front, so he stood in it and waited for me to go get the van.
I half-jogged back and drove to the gate, but the ticket machine was jammed and wouldn't let anybody in. After getting everyone in line to back out, I got in the even longer line at the "far gate". Tom must have stood in that spot waving people away for half an hour, but at least I didn't have so far to haul the stuff back out at the end.
But that was pretty much the Third Strike for that place. Oh well.
We presume that Sanchez is blasting away every Thursday and Friday, but it's been quite a while since I've verified that. And yes; yes he is.
When he's there, the Tommies move down to the Tunnel where it's quiet enough that they can be heard. That left the ice cream corner empty, since, for some reason, Sanchez usually prefers the Fingerhut side. And he wasn't *all* that loud, so I went for it.
Problem was, a lot of bums were out. One guy was sleeping on the bench, and woke up to drunkenly tell me how great I am: "I love you, man"; "That's beautiful, man"; "That's not just music, that's *art*!"
And after a while, Rasta Ross decided to come over and work on his crocheted Jamaican hats, bracelets, etc. on my side, since, presumably, even he can't stand to listen to Sanchez for very long. With his backpack and craft supply bag, he takes up 3/4 of the bench, and when another homeless guy showed up, the entire bench was full.
But it seemed like, although this was the start of Spring Break week for some people, it being only Friday night, the anticipated crowd of tourists were all apparently on their way to the airport and not here yet. Everyone looked to be locals, and on their way somewhere, so nobody seemed to be ready to stop and sit down anyway.
There was a nouveau hippie guy and girl there, too, but they were polite enough to move to the side bench when they realized I was fixing to play. They had a sign out, but weren't directly hassling anyone for money. They were nicely appreciative of the music, and when I played "Rocky Mountain High", the guy came over to tell me that he didn't have any money, but he wanted to at least high-five me for making a pair of Colorado hippies' day.
Played my monthly gig at the Mount of Olives Senior Daycare. Same old place, same old songs, same old people.
I tried to liven it up with some up tempo tunes, but, as always, I can't tell if they liked it better, or can/will just tolerate nearly anything.
But the caregivers that work there just *love* it when I come by, so I'll take that as a hint that the old folks do too, and keep coming.
Now that it's springtime, the Sundays are getting better, and I had a good Sunday last week, so I tried it again. And, surprise!, no Tommies, so I had The Corner all to myself. Of course, on Sundays people don't stay out so late, but I had a great run until 9:30 or so.
A really nice lady was there right at the start, and she stayed a long time and ended up buying a CD. Then a family came by with a little girl so I played "Do You Want To Build a Snowman?", and she just lit up. After that one, she asked if I knew "Elsa's song", which is, of course, "Let It Go", so we did that one, and she came up and sang along.
A young woman heard me talking to local celebrity artist John Cheney about playing someplace "real". She said that she worked at Tortilla Flats and they don't have live music there yet but they intend to, so she took a card and I gave her a CD to give to her boss. These things seldom work out, but it's always worth a try.
A couple came by, slightly tipsy, and it was the woman's 55th birthday. Her husband looked for something appropriate on my list, but we decided that she really just wanted to dance, so I fired up my go-to irresistible dance number, "Mister Postman". Once she was dancing up a storm, other people going by couldn't help but join in and we had us a little dance party for a while.
I went down at 8:00 to get "in line", but just before I got there, Tom texted Warren to tell him that they weren't there anyway. Wish he'd'a said so earlier...
Pretty great night, though. Lots of people out, and we assembled several crowds and a couple of dance parties. One group came by and parked on the bench to listen for a spell while one of the ladies was nursing her baby. So I played softer songs, and then her husband mentioned that they were Alberta, Canada, so I offered to play "Four Strong Winds", but they'd never heard of it. C'mon people, it's by the most famous Canadian folk duet, and mentions Alberta by name! So we played it for them anyway.
The nursing mother decided she wanted a CD, so her husband came up and bought one. When the song ended I announced that I'd be happy to autograph the CD, and she said, "Oh, yes please!" A bunch of other people saw this and there was a sudden run on CDs, with autographs, like I've never seen before. I think I sold 7 CDs in that burst. Wow.
A little girl came by in an actual Elsa dress, so I played "Do You Want To Build a Snowman?" for her. Then, oddly, when offered the "Kids' Menu", she chose "Kiss the Girl" from "Little Mermaid". And after that, since hardly anyone else was around, we had to do "Let It Go", of course. And then I did "Everything Is Awesome" from "The Lego Movie", just to give her big brother a little equal time.
A group came by that wanted to do some country dancing, so I fired up "Amie" from "Pure Prairie League". That went over big, and pretty soon we had a big dance party going.
Around 11:00, a couple came through and the girl danced her way across the corner and crosswalk, so I roped her in by starting up the irresistible "Mister Postman" whereupon she dragged her boyfriend back over to dance. That opened the floodgates, and by the end of the song, there had to be 10 or 12 people out of nowhere, half of them dancing. It really works, sometimes.
I thought that there might be some people out for St. Patrick's Day partying down in Laguna. But I was wrong. A few people came by dressed in green, or with green party hats on, but they were obviously just changing bars, and didn't stop.
Early on, I did have one elderly couple with their son from Liverpool stop and ask for "If I Fell". The harmony on that song is brilliant but non-standard so my harmony box can't do it, so I just do without. But the son apparently performs "back home", so he chimed in on the harmony. That was pretty cool.
And there was a pair of nice high school girls for a while, until their ride showed up. They were replaced by a different pair of nice high school girls, who claimed to not be waiting for a ride, but eventually actually were.
As I was packing up, the Rasta guy from across the street came over to tell me how much he liked my music, and how he liked that I played for "de chill-dren", (last Sunday) and how he wanted to give me a tip because he "respected" my work. I wish I'd had a recorder going 'cuz it all sounded so great in his amazing Jamaican accent.
He also asked if he could sing a song next time, and I told him that I do know "Three Little Birds", so that'll be interesting next Saturday.
But, note to self: Even "party holidays" don't work down there. It didn't work on New Years' Eve, and it didn't work on Saint Patrick's Day. Got it.
It's still a couple of weeks before Spring Break, but I thought that the heat wave might make for a decent Sunday anyway, so I went down. I knew the Tommies would be there, so I arrived at 8:00, and had only played two songs on the Fingerhut side when Tom quit and I got to move over.
And it was pretty good -- not as many people as on a Saturday, but more relaxed and quiet, so kind of nice. I guess people were less in a hurry to get someplace.
Some young Beatle fans came by and wanted to dance. One of them was a big fan of the movie "Across the Universe", so I played the movie version of "I Want To Hold Your Hand", which makes it into a slow, intense, ballad. I don't usually play it because it's so Not The Right Way, but it gathered a big crowd. Maybe I should do it more often.
Part of that crowd was a couple of Persian guys who stayed long after everyone else cleared out, asking for more Beatles, Cat Stevens, and Simon & Garfunkel. They kept me playing until 11:15, and took a card after asking if I play parties.
I almost gave in to my tired/laziness and didn't go down at all, but I'm really glad I did.
We played pretty ineffectually on the Fingerhut corner until the Tommies relinquished the "Good side" at 9:20. Once we were up and running there, it was pretty great. Big crowds due to the record-breaking heat we've been having so lots of people to sing for.
A bachelorette party came through and one of the girls wanted her "professional singer" friend to sing "Part of Your World" from "The Little Mermaid", so I got out the spare mic, and she sang herself until the friend gave up and salvaged the song by taking the mic from her.
Later on, some your people from Texas watched us intently for a long while, until the kid got the guts to come up and ask if he could sing "Hallelujah". I rewired the mics so that the wired one was going through the harmony box, but I could still come in if the kid needed saving. He was pretty good -- much enthusiasm. Part of the new "More is better" school of vocal filigree, though.
As it got late, there was a lull where there was literally no one there (usually there's at least a few bums), and not even anyone walking by, so we were just chatting. Finally a couple came by and the guy said, "Are you guys done or what?", and I said that we'd be happy to play if he was here to listen. He asked me to do my favorite song, so I did "Over the Rainbow". While I was doing that, at least eight more people showed up and stopped to listen. Pretty flattering to gather a nice little crowd from out of nowhere like that.
I really wish the Tommies weren't always bogarting the ice cream corner these days, but I have to admit that the 9-1 shift isn't all that bad.
Even though it's lame every time I go on a Sunday afternoon, I felt like the 45 minutes at the coffee shop the night before just wasn't sufficient playing for a weekend, so I went anyway.
And I was right -- lame. I knew the Tommies would be on the ice cream corner, but I was hoping the nice weather would make the Fingerhut side worth playing. Not so much. I played from 4:30 until about 7:00 and had almost nobody stop to listen.
I was playing towards the benches, but since the bums don't like (or don't like bothering) the Tommies, they were on the Fingerhut benches, hampering my ability to get a crowd. So around 7:00, I decided that my best bet was to move across the sidewalk and point the amp toward the line that was starting to form outside the pizza place -- which did work a little better. I had a few small families come over, so I played some "Frozen" and other kids' stuff. And once some kids are there, the older people stop to watch the cuteness. Note to self: 4:30 on Sunday, no; 7:00, maybe.
At one point, a professional-looking woman came up as I was starting up a song and made little pinching gestures with her fingers at me. I presumed she was trying to tell me to turn it down, 'cuz I'm paranoid that way, so I stopped playing to let her say it out loud. But she was actually asking me if I had a card, and said that she was putting on a women's golf tournament and wanted to hire me to play the after party. So suddenly the three hours of almost nothing was worth it...
Finally at 8:30, the Tommies packed up so I could move over to the ice cream side. I'd already been playing for 4 hours so I didn't expect my batteries to last much longer, but I played anyway, and started to do really well. Lots of people came by and left a tip, though not many actually stopped. It's flattering when someone tips me to play a song, but it's a bit more flattering when they tip me even though they're not staying to listen -- just "This guy's good" as they go on by.
Of course, being Sunday, it started to get pretty empty at 9 or 9:30, but I just kept playing 'cuz it was nice out, and the quiet was too tempting. I started playing songs I wanted to play, having done the Top Twenty for the last 5 hours, and I was really expecting the batteries to crap out at any minute anyway. I guess it sounded really pretty because the street was so quiet and my voice was in good shape, but I was surprised that people were tipping for obscure songs they weren't familiar with and weren't stopping to listen to.
This is the place that has three hour-long sets per night. Last time I played the 7:00 first shift, so this time I asked for the 9:00 shift, to see if the place filled up later at night.
I got there early enough to hear the end of the first act, a jazz combo with two saxes, guitar, and drum box, playing interminable versions of "Just the Two of Us", "Isn't She Lovely" and the like. Ouch. There are basically two rooms -- one in front of the stage, and one for people who *aren't* there to hear the band. The Stage Room was pretty full, but almost all of them turned out to be friends of the band, and moved to the Other Room to party after they quit playing.
Which left about 5 people for the next guy. He was OK, but not impressive, so when he quit, there were maybe 3 people left for me. I was beginning to regret my "late shift" idea.
But after only a song or two, a whole bunch of people moved back over to listen to me. Flattering!
I played four or five songs of my own choosing to give them an idea of what I was about, and then started taking requests, which came in solid for the rest of the, what, seven songs.
At least the requests were all good choices. Except when the sound lady told me that I had two songs left, and a guy asked for "If I Only Had a Brain" from the Kids' List. I had to tell him that, if I only had two songs left, that wasn't going to be one of them. His second choice was "Wild World"; far more suitable.
And for my last song, I took a show of hands between "Let It Be" and "Imagine", with "Let It Be" winning out.
As I was tearing down, I asked the sound lady if there were any other places I ought to be trying to get into. One of the coffee guys suggested "Bogart's" in Seal Beach, and she said I should look into the "First Friday" event in Bixby Knolls. That's the second time I've been pointed to this legendary "Bixby Knolls". Unfortunately, when I dug up and applied online for that event, they never got back to me. Like most booking people...
This was supposed to be "our turn" at the ice cream corner, but, understandably, Tom had a tough time shutting down at 6 when I got there, since there were lots of people out and he was presumably doing pretty well. I didn't want to just sit there waiting like last time, so I set up on the Fingerhut side, and did OK, but I'm sure it made it easier for Tom to stall on relinquishing the "good side".
Just as I was starting, three teenage guys pulled up with their big cameras and asked if they could take pictures of me. Of course I said yes, and asked them to send me the best ones. They never did, though.
I had been standing in front of the Fingerhut display window when I noticed the lady inside. She gestured and mouthed for me to move away from blocking her window, which, hmmm: public sidewalk, *outside* her store. But I like to be cooperative, so I moved. That put me on the "wrong side" of my amp, and made me have to try to use my right foot for the harmony box buttons. That was surprisingly hard, since I'm used to using my left foot, not to mention that, if the box is on my right side, I can't even see it to aim my foot at the buttons 'cuz my guitar is in the way.
The Tommies finally quit when Warren showed up at 7:30, but took their time clearing out, so I didn't really get moved, set up, and restarted until 8:00. Tom doesn't really seem to be taking his "take turns" promise to heart -- but I guess it's a bit better than not having any cooperation at all.
It started out a bit chilly and windy, but a lot of people were out anyway, and we did quite well, for a February. Lots of people there, requesting songs and being appreciative. I sold six CDs, where I usually sell none.
At one point there was a couple who were big Cat Stevens fans on the bench, some Chinese guys who liked John Denver and the Beatles, and a couple who were huge James Taylor fans showed up. Ain't that the way? After a few songs back and forth, the James fan guy asked me if I could play "Up On the Roof", 'cuz it's his favorite, and he knew it was hard. I do know it, and it *is* hard, but I do a pretty good job of it, which he acknowledged by ostentatiously sticking a twenty in the jar.
Later on at closing time, like he had done last time, the new manager of the ice cream store asked if we'd like some free ice cream. I like this guy...
We were pretty drunk-free all night, but at 10:30 or so, the drunk and crazy Mexican lady showed up with her also drunk and crazy new boyfriend. She was wearing a tube top, and a wedding dress upside down and backwards, with the dress part fixed around her waist, and her feet sticking out the unzipped back, leaving the bodice and long sleeves to drag on the ground. That's something you don't see every day. Nor want to...
I put up with her antics for a while, but the sane people were mostly gone anyway, so eventually I gave up and we went home.
My dad was an aerospace engineer; my mom (who died last Sunday) was a "home maker" -- the mom-est mom ever. My dad knew, and knew how to do, everything: fix a sink, replace a water pump, build a camp, put a guy on the moon. He, like most dads, wanted the best for/from us, and instilled/inflicted his perfectionism in me. You didn't want to show anything to Dad unless/until it was perfect.
To Mom, on the other hand, *everything* we did, said, made, or bought was, by her definition, perfect. Everything she saw was, in her words, "the [adjective]-est [noun] you ever laid eyes on". Whatever we had to show or tell her about was the best one ever. New car, girlfriend, pocket knife, shirt, pair of shoes -- whatever it was, no matter how objectively good, bad, or ugly it was, it was the best one she'd ever seen.
You'd think that her seemingly non-critical assessments would make it easy to slack off, but it had the opposite effect on me. I wanted to make everything I made or did live up to her (even though guaranteed) high praise. And she loved to hear my stories, almost as much as I loved telling them to her.
Indeed, it seems like half the things I've done were just to be able to tell the story afterwards -- to my wife, friends, co-workers, but mostly my mom. She was always the best audience, and frequently made telling the story more fun than doing the thing.
And she was entirely the reason I started this blog. I didn't think anyone else would care, and the people close-by would hear the stories first hand. But my mom was far away, and in order to make sure she heard the stories, I started writing them down, if only to have reminders so I could tell them when I get to see her next. What I write, I write for her. As I'm typing, I'm talking to her. If anyone else reads them, that's just gravy.
She was, in her words, "not technical". When I started the blog, I made sure that the entries were automatically sent by email to my dad, who would print them out and let my mom read them on paper. When my dad died, I worked out a way to print them remotely on his printer, so she could hear the print noises and go in the office to find the latest post. (Each post (this one makes 759) is worked out three times -- the original, seldom visited but nicely formatted, searchable, and cataloged by date on http://y7alanzo.blogspot.com/; the text pasted into a Facebook "Note", poorly formatted and ugly, but more accessible to my friends; and a paper-sized, bigger pictures version in Word, printable for my mom, who kept them in a huge 3-ring binder.)
When her health started failing, I started wondering if I would keep the blog going once she wasn't around to read the stories. Now that that's happened, I'm thinking that probably I will. So far, it just seems like it's been a while since I've driven up to see her. But it feels like my best option to keep her around is to keep telling her these stories.
But I'm going to have to stop telling this one before the saltwater shorts out the keyboard. Thanks, Mom -- everybody says that theirs was the best mom ever, but you really were.
Played my now-monthly gig for the old folks at the senior day care. It went pretty much like last time -- they sit (mostly) politely while I play. Thigh-slap drummer guy was at it again, but at least not every darn song like last time.
I had a lot of embarrassing technical issues at the start. It's one thing to have to change out a battery when you're on a street corner, but another when 40 people are sitting, staring at you, and waiting. Right off the bat it was clear that the vocal was distorting, which is always the transmitter battery, so I swapped that. But then the guitar was also getting quieter and distorted -- so much so that the harmony box couldn't get a clear enough signal to tune from, nor create the right harmony vocal. I had to abandon harmonies in "Leaving on a Jet Plane", which sounded *really* weird without them.
I swapped out the battery that runs the guitar pickup and is mounted pretty inconveniently inside the guitar, but that didn't help. Only thing left was the battery in the "DI" box, but that's even harder to swap -- especially while people are staring at you, so I just abandoned that whole signal path and plugged in my backup cable. That solved it for now.
Anyway, I'm also getting over (I hope!) a cold, so my voice was pretty weak and wobbly at first, but after a few songs I felt pretty good, enough to chance "Bridge Over Troubled Water", which went quite well.
It's just an hour time slot, which seems like just enough time to get warmed up, to me. Especially if I screw around with technical difficulties for the first while. My bad.
I deliberately asked for Valentine's Day for my return engagement at the CALB gallery, thinking that there would be lots of people there. But it rather backfired. More so because my wife came along, so it wasn't just me suffering...
First off, the parking lot was full, so we had to park in the city lot. At three dollars an hour. And I mis-remembered the space number and bought somebody else nine bucks worth of time. Daleen had to go back when our initial time expired, but moving the car to the Village lot was still hopeless, so we ended up paying $21 for parking, instead of getting validated parking for free. Not to mention the long walk with the equipment, which was not on rollers 'cuz I was going to use the "house system" and not my own amp that's on a cart.
When we got there, there was a Really Loud band playing in the patio area of Shenanigans, directly below the windows of the gallery. When I got set up and ready to play, I had to close most of the windows, just to hear myself play. Fortunately, they quit after a few songs, but I was really worried for a while there.
But the worst part was that almost nobody came upstairs to listen. Maybe 7 people all night, plus the "owner" Tom and his friend who arrived late and had to leave early. My theory slash rationalization is that although there were lots of people there, they all Had Plans. Valentine's parties or dinner reservations to get to. So where, on a normal Saturday, people are just wandering around to see what there was to see (and hear), these people didn't have time to come up and listen a while.
Anyway, that's my theory and I'm sticking with it -- until it's disproven when I go back in a few weeks on a "normal Saturday".
And then, to really ruin the evening, my hopes of walking around Shoreline Village after the gig (at 8:00) with my wife as our own Valentine's date were dashed because our parking time was expired, and we had all this equipment to drag to the car. I can only describe the whole thing as a Spectacular Failure -- though the few people who came by were *amazingly* good tippers and I made about as much as I could have expected if I'd'a gone to Laguna instead, so I guess it coulda been worse...
Warren had theoretically negotiated with Tom that we'd trade off getting The Corner on Saturdays, and this was supposed to be our one. But when I got there, the Tommies were already there, and Tom said they'd just do one more 10 song set, which turned out to be 40 minutes long. He's not exactly cooperating...
Anyway, once we got started it was pretty fun. Lots of people to play for, and lots of requests to fill. Early on, a group of high school kids came by all dressed up for their Winter Formal. One of the girls said, "Hi Keith! I'm from Indian Princesses!" It was Megan, who I knew well when she was 8 or 10, but I'd'a never recognized this 17-year-old with the fancy dress, makeup, hair, and all.
Three young ladies from San Diego, but originally from Saudi Arabia, came by. They claimed to not know any of the songs on my list, but they'd been in the US long enough to know "I’m Yours" and "Hey Soul Sister". And then I played "Let It Be", which they knew, as I figured they would, which led to "Hey, Jude" and "I've Just Seen a Face". They weren't as ignorant of "western" music as they claimed to be.
Indeed, the bravest one came up and tried to sing along, though she didn't really know any of the songs well enough to actually do so.
Later on, a pair of high school girls came up and one of them told me that she was a terrible singer but could she sing a song? That was an interestingly honest sales pitch, so how could I refuse? She wanted to sing "Need You Now", which I happen to know, so I started it up, and sure enough, she *was* terrible, so I had to sing the whole thing on top of her since she never did find the right key. Fun anyway, I guess.
A dad came by with his little 7-year-old daughter, so I played "Twinkle Twinkle", and then "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?". Another guy asked for "City of New Orleans", so I did that one, and was amazed to see the little girl singing along on the choruses. Her dad then told me that she's a big Willie Nelson fan, and wanted me to play "On the Road Again". I don't know that one, but I fired up "Always On My Mind", which the little girl was thrilled by.
Around 11:00, the new assistant manager in the ice cream store came out and offered some to me and Warren. That was pretty nice of him, and quite welcome, considering I'm starting to feel a cold coming on and after 4 and a half hours my throat was getting pretty scratchy. Not to mention how hungry I get after playing for 4 or 5 hours...
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.
