When I got to The Corner, there were four young girls, singing a cappella songs. I figured they would give up soon enough, so I just sat on the side bench and tried to figure out what they were singing, since they were both inaudible and unintelligible. After a while they "took a break" and then decided to try a different location across the street, so I took over.
Unfortunately, they chose to stand directly across the crosswalk from me, with the brick wall to their backs, which, with all four of them singing, was pretty intrusive on my "sonic space", but they were just having fun, so I didn't mind much. It was a pretty slow day anyway, being a Sunday.
They toughed it out for a surprisingly long time, and after a while, one of them went home and got her guitar. It was ludicrous but cute that they were singing current hits, be they hip-hop, electronica, or dance music, nearly a cappella but for the few chords she knew. But of course, cute draws in the tips, so they thought they were doing great.
Blain, who appears to be independently wealthy and spends his days down on the beach spinning a Frisbee "for peace", came by. He loves my stuff, and sometimes gets ideas about what song I ought to learn. Lately he's been hounding me to learn "I Write the Book" by Elvis Costello. I checked into it, and it's not for me, but the Costello song I dearly love is "Watching the Detectives", so I worked that one up instead. I feel awfully white and geeky playing Reggae, but it occurred to me that I can't be much whiter or geekier than Costello himself...
About 8:30 it was pretty dead, but I guess dinner hour was over because we started getting lots of people, and forming pretty big crowds. One little girl came up and asked for a song I'd never heard of, so I asked her to choose a song from the Kids' List. She took it back to the bench and her mom, so I followed them over there (the benefits of being wireless). Of course, I knew what song she'd undoubtedly pick, so I started looping the intro, and when she finally pointed to "Let It Go", I just started singing it, much to their surprise.
Nice weather, good turnout. Lots of young families, but most of the kids were too young to be brave enough to come up and sing, so I only got one big "Let It Go" singalong going. "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" is also a big hit, and a surprise for the kids since it's not on the list yet. I can also play "For the First Time in Forever", but it's more obscure, so I can only bring it out if the kids are hard core "Frozen" fans.
I was playing "Kiss the Girl" on spec, hoping to drag in some kids or teen passersby, and a little girl came running up out of the crowd, wearing an Ariel costume (I think it was actually jammies). She was pretty thrilled.
And later on I was playing "Let It Go" for some teenagers, when a little girl appeared, carrying her Frozen doll. It's actually both sisters -- you can flip it upside down and invert the long skirt, covering one sister and revealing the other, to change between the two. It was in Elsa mode when she came up -- correctly, since "Let It Go" is Elsa's big number. Naturally, I did "Snowman" next, and the little girl knew that she needed to flip the doll over, since that's an Anna song. Really cute, and a treat for them to be able to participate.
After a couple more songs, her dad gave her a tenner, and told her to put it in the jar and take a CD. She didn't know which one to take, so I showed her which one had "Let It Go" on it. She looked confused and said, "But, I already *have* 'Let It Go'..." I had to explain that, yes, but on this CD, it's *me* singing it.
So the Fête ran from 1:30 to 4:30, so I just rolled on down to The Corner afterwards and set up to play some more. I bought a yummy Greek chicken wrap thing from the shop next to the ice cream store, had some dinner, and was playing again around 5:00. And we had lots of nice people all night long so I couldn't seem to cut if off until 10. Longest I've ever played in one day -- eight hours is toooo long. Especially since I'd been recording a new Kids' CD the whole week before, so my fingers and voice were already partially worn out.
And indeed, it was literally too long for my iPad songbook. When its battery went out at 9:30, I had to play only songs that I've got memorized, which is a pretty short list 'cuz I'm used to the safety net of the words and chords sitting there, even if I only need a glace or two. But actually, having been forced to try, I was surprised to be able to do at least nine songs: Hotel California, The Boxer, Blackbird, Over the Rainbow, You Got a Friend, Homeward Bound, Let It Be, Sounds of Silence, and Leaving On a Jet Plane.
Warren's friend, fiddler Doug Miller, came past on his way from the Fête, and joined in on 4 or 5 songs. He's very good, but he thinks so too, and plays too loud, and quite distractingly. It's somewhat amazing that he can play louder than my amplified guitar and voice with just his fiddle. It was pretty cool, but I wasn't disappointed when he had to leave...
So, we had a great time overall, made pretty good tips, and I sold another 10 CDs, which is flattering. But, ouch, my fingers...
This was the 7th annual "celebration of music to start the summer" Fete, and my third. This year they expanded the time from two hours to three, which is no problem for me, of course. I was assigned my usual spot in front of Johnny Rockets restaurant, at the corner of Ocean and PCH.
It's a pretty good spot -- I'm under a canopy out of the sun, and a lot of people pass by walking along PCH. Unfortunately, it's not a very wide spot in the sidewalk, so people feel uncomfortable standing there for very long, so nobody stays for more than a song or two, and I can only collect a crowd of 5 or so.
Still, people were friendly. Most of them had no idea why there were so many bands all over town. But lots of people took advantage of my request list, and I sold 11 CDs, which may be a new record.
They always have a party for the performers the night before in a zillion dollar mansion overlooking the ocean. I've never made it before, but this year, I made myself go, even though I knew I wouldn't know anybody. Except the organizer guy, who almost didn't recognize me without my hat, and who immediately clamped onto me and made me get up and perform -- mostly, I think, just to dislodge the people who had monopolized the "stage".
I had brought my guitar just in case, but had thought it would be, like, a living room kind of thing. But it was a loud party, and the only way to be loud enough was to hook into the *terrible* amps they'd borrowed. So I played two songs, sitting down ('cuz I'd forgotten my strap), with a mic on a stand (instead of my usual head-mic), and barely being able to tell what I was doing with the weird sound. It felt weird, and it sounded weird (though a whole bunch of people improbably came up to me afterwards to tell me how great I sounded). More "dues" I guess.
Terrific weather, lots of people out, and we did really great. Played from 5:00 until 11:00, the whole time with people listening and requesting songs and having fun -- even dancing. It seems like every time I have a terrible night, the next one is that much better to restore my faith in this job.
Lots of families with kids out, so we played "Let It Go" a lot, frequently followed by "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?", and this time I played "For the First Time in Forever" a lot better. Unfortunately, it's not a song that people remember well from the movie, so I'll have to hold it back for the really dedicated Frozen fans.
At one point three little kids were on the bench with their grandma, eating their ice cream and ignoring me. I started up "Let It Go", and the look on those three little faces as they recognized the song was heart melting. Worth all the trouble, right there.
A crazy blonde lady came by, very enthusiastic, dancing, interacting with the other people. She had some kind of outrageous accent, so I asked her where she was from. She came up and whispered in my ear, "Poland". I'm not sure why, and from whom, that's a secret...
My sweet little superfan lady (she calls me "Mr. Comer") and her husband came by again. She already has the main "Favorites" CD, but asked me if I had any others. I told her about the other two, but that I didn't have any with me. I've put some in the bag for the next time she comes.
I've updated the request list, removing some songs that never get requested, and adding some newer ones or songs that I think are getting strong enough to deserve a spot in the top 100. It only took two or three songs before someone noticed the addition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water", which I've known for a long time, but couldn't risk putting on the list 'cuz it's really high and I couldn't sing it if someone asked for it too early in the night. But my voice has moved up a bit, and now I think I can get away with it any time these days. And it's a real crowd pleaser, and tends to attract the attention of people walking by. It got requested three times, overall.
The new sign continues to sell lots of CDs -- eight this time. I'm going to have to start bringing more inventory to these gigs. One lady said, incredulously, "You're only asking five dollars for the CDs?" I said, "Well, you can put more in if you want to. I won't look!"
Sanchez was acceptably-volumed for the first part of the evening, but there was almost nobody out. When the galley closed and the foot traffic went up, he not only got louder, he went back to his car and fetched a roller cart with a full-on concert rig -- two big speakers, amp, mic and stand (though I don't know for what, since he never sings), and more effects than usual, I think. I don't know where he was getting the power -- my best theory is a car battery and inverter.
So, about 8:30 he was louder than he'd ever been. Way louder. I tried to keep going, but it was futile. A lady came by and leaned over and said, "That guy is too loud and annoying. You should do something." All I could say was "I wish I could."
After a few songs, and since it was a dead night anyway, and I just conceded defeat and went home. I guess I'll just have to abandon Friday nights if he's gonna just go nuclear like that.
The bike cop came by twice, once before Sanchez got the big amp out, and once after. He just hung around, but didn't talk to either of us, either time. Notably, the second time, Sanchez finished the "song" he was working on and got real "busy" with tending the wires and other stuff so as to not be playing while the cop was there. I guess, without any complaints, the cop couldn't/woudn't do anything.
Even more annoyingly: As I was putting my stuff in the van, the cop rode up and all friendly-like said, "How's it going?" I said, "I'm giving up -- that other guy is too loud." No response to that. Instead, he wanted to talk about the $5 CD sign, and whether or not that was a "donation". I said, yes it was, and he took that as OK, despite there being nothing on the sign to that effect. Weird.
But, really, my $5 CD sign is what's bothering you, not Hearing-Damage loud guy?!?
It was an unexpectedly low turnout for such a nice summer Saturday, but we had nice people most of the time anyway. My new big-font sign is still working well -- I sold six CDs.
A pair of girls came by and one of them stopped when she recognized my name on the sign. She was flabbergasted that it was "that guy from Indian Princesses", and remembered that "Walking (sic) with Bears" song. So of course I played it (well, "Waltzing...") for her. It was fun to see her so completely blown away.
I had the continuing sound problem with the guitar, but this time I bypassed the wireless but *not* the tone box, and the problem remained, indicating an easily fixable dead battery in the tone box. That one lasts six months or more so I don't think of it when I have problems, and I don't recognize the symptoms. But maybe next time I will, and it's a relief to have it be so easily fixable and not have to get the wireless rig repaired, which I was dreading.
The Tommies (dad Tom and daughter Tomi) are back in town for the summer, and they set up on the corner across from us. It's disheartening to be playing to 3 or 4 people and to look over to see a crowd around them. Musically, they're kind of awful, but Tomi is just so cute, and impressive (for an 8-year-old) on the lead guitar. But I guess you use what you got, and young and cute beats out old but good.
But it was fun enough that we played until around 11:00. After we'd packed up, we were hanging out on the bench when a young couple walked up and the girl asked if either of us had any scissors. There's a tiny pair on my pocket knife, so I said that I did, and fished them out. I thought she might have a price tag or washing instructions tag that she needed removed, but she wanted to chop the entire bottom of her dress off!
She said that it was a bridesmaid's dress that she hated and was going to throw away tomorrow anyway, but it was too long and she couldn't dance in it, and it was ruining her evening. Her boyfriend was skeptical and tried to talk her out of it, but she was determined, and I had already produced the scissors. She started to cut into the dress, but the tiny scissors and her awkward angle weren't up to the task. Once she'd put a hole in the dress, I figured there was no going back now, so I had her stand up on the bench and switched to the knife and just hacked it off for her.
After she'd spun a full 360 and I'd hacked off a jagged 8-to-12 inch ring, she stepped out of it and dropped the over-skirt, which *wasn't* too long and covered up the field repairs. She was thrilled, and bequeathed the dress remainder to me, her hero.
As they walked away, the boyfriend inexplicably handed her two bucks to put in the tip jar. It's all part of the service, ma'am.
When I was setting up, the maintenance guys came and turned down the fountain and turned off the music in the plaza that I play in, as usual. But they left the music in the corridor right ahead of me on, and it's way louder than it used to be at that.
I called the guy, and he said that his boss told him not to turn the music down in the corridor any more. I have a feeling that the only way they can is to turn the music off in the whole mall, so I can understand his position, but it really sucks. Not having much choice, I just went ahead and played, and at least it wasn't as bad as I was expecting.
And then I was having trouble with the guitar sound. It was all distorted, so I got out a cable and bypassed the wireless, and the distortion was gone, but the tone was all messed up because I was also bypassing the tone modification box. Ack.
So, after all the trouble, I wasn't much in the mood to play. But I had some cute kids and friendly people come by, and I gradually came around. Right off the bat I had a big rock'n'roll dance party start up. And I got some kids up to sing "Let It Go" this time. And later on, a really nice thing was a group of teenagers who came up and started playing with the littler kids -- initiating "Ring Around the Rosie" and such. Must have been ex-Girl Scouts.
It was a nice sunny Sunday afternoon and I didn't have anything else to do, so I went down. Only played two and a half hours, though, 'cuz I ran out of battery power -- I must not have gotten it on the charger right.
But it was fun. Lots of nice people out. A little girl was sitting on her dad's lap on the bench, looking bored and burned out. I fired up "Let It Go" and she just lit up. That was fun. And of course other people stop when I'm playing that song (or their kids do, so they have to), so I accumulated a little crowd pretty quickly.
So I had people there listening most of the time, and a surprising number of people put money in the jar just as they were walking by, without stopping. And my new, bigger font, "CDs: $5" sign is working really well -- I sold 4. I guess I should have thought of the sign revision a long time ago...
I had played at Spectrum the night before, and there were two friendly guys for a while. And here they were again, wandering by, smiling. And a group of young teenage girls came by and said "Did you play at Spectrum last night?" Yup, that's me. Not a lot of guys out here with this hat.
It was a nice sunny summer Saturday, and lots of people and their kids were out. I must have played "Let It Go" a dozen or fifteen times. Frequently, someone would hear the music and come down, and check the list, and, of course, ask for "Let It Go". I'd get a laugh from the already-there parents by saying, "Sure, it's been ten minutes since the last time..."
For the middle hour or two, it got into this strange mode where a lot of people were hanging around and listening, but they were being all quiet and, it seemed like, (overly) respectful. I couldn't get anyone to come up and even look at the list, much less pick a song. They were acting like they didn't want to interfere with the show, even when I begged them to. It felt really weird to be so much in charge that no one was willing to even talk to me. Never had that before...
Fortunately, that wore off and I had lots of friendly people and lots of requests, so I ended up playing until 11:30. It's a shame that the last hour or two are the best part -- it's both quieter and the late night mood suits my material better. Not to mention that I'd finally figured out why the sound was so muffled all night -- I'd closed and moved the sun umbrella that they brought out for me so it was right between me and the speaker that I get most of my "monitor" sound from. Once I moved it out of the way, the sound was clear and bright again. What an idiot I am sometimes.
But even better was that my voice was so warmed up that I could hit all the high notes that I usually strain for, clear and easy, so I feel like I can sing anything, and I do. It was my big chance to sing "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and not hurt myself...
When we got to The Corner at 6:00, there were some kids there with instruments, waiting for the rest of their "Vinnie and the Hooligans" bandmates to show up. They're a rowdy five-piece neo-bluegrass/folk band, and quite good, and a lot of fun. We decided to move down to the alcove in front of the Laguna art college gallery/shop. We set up out at the curb, facing into the alcove which has some benches for people to sit on.
But it was mainly futile. The kids on the corner were way more fun than we are, and most of the foot traffic is on PCH, across the corner, not up Forest Ave where we were. We had a few people come by and eat their ice cream on the benches, and they mostly seemed appreciative, but it was slim pickin's.
Finally about 9:30, the Hooligans packed up so we moved down to our proper place on The Corner. Btu lying right in the middle of the corner area was a black and white dog, surrounded by kneeling people petting him. Seemed odd, but we set up our stuff anyway, figuring they'd move on pretty soon. When they didn't, I asked one of the lingering Hooligans what the deal was, and he told me that the dog was due to be put down tomorrow.
Ouch. I get that the owner wanted to bring the dog out for one last night with people, but that's quite a mood killer. No wonder the Hooligans gave up.
So I stalled for a while, but finally decided that most of the people milling around were not there to have their evening clouded by grief, and the Hooligan said, "Go ahead and play -- the dog likes music." So I started up, quietly, with my usual "Hotel California", which seemed neutral enough -- not too happy, not too sad. The dog's owner smiled at me, so I guess it was OK with him, too.
So I was stuck with trying to find songs that wouldn't offend the dog-mourners, but pretty soon a tiny oriental lady and her husband who were sitting on the far-away bench moved up to be right in front of us. She was apparently unaware of the dog-drama, and just wanted to hear some music. Once she started picking the songs, the onus wasn't on me anymore, but I guess I was worrying too much 'cuz nobody seemed to mind whatever song I played.
She stayed for quite a while, picking songs, clapping, and smiling her huge smile. And finally the guy took the dog home, freeing me to feel OK about whatever song she wanted to hear. She eventually came up to buy a CD, and was flabbergasted that they were only five bucks. It was great to have such a sweet appreciative fan come by just in time to assuage my bruised ego from how much better the Hooligans had been doing than I was...
It also helped that a lot of people started coming by and hanging out. We had a pretty great last hour, and ended up staying until 11:00. That's pretty late, considering I had spent most of the night thinking, "This ain't happening -- after this song, I'm done." "OK, one more, then I'm outta here." Never quite worked out, though.
It was Memorial Day weekend, but instead of the usual hot and sunny day, it was gloomy with occasional sprinkles. But we went down anyway, and when I saw how hard it was to find a parking space, I realized that the crowds had shown up, too.
When we got there, a guy who usually plays his mahogany acoustic in the natural-reverb corridor down the street was set up, because someone else had taken "his spot". He had some specific monetary goal in mind, and was still six bucks short. Rather than wait around until he managed to scare that up, I just contributed it myself. He sang one more song and left The Corner to us. I'm pretty sure I earned that six bucks back faster than he would have.
So we started out with the three girls that had been listening to him, and kept up a great consistent crowd all night -- lots of "Let It Go" sing-alongs, lots of friendly grownups. We started about 6:15 and ended up playing until 11:45 when we had a slew of requests for kids' Disney songs from a batch of Asian college students. I suppose "college kids" still qualifies as a "Kids' Party"...
I have a sign up that says that the CDs are five bucks, but nobody seems to read it, 'cuz they keep standing a foot away from it and asking me, "How much are the CDs?" So I revised the sign to make the CD price much bigger. It seems to be working, 'cuz I usually sell one or none of them, and this time I sold five.
We came up just three dollars short of the all-time tips record. Warren took off, and as I was just about to leave, a party swept through and a guy asked me if I could sing Happy Birthday to "Esmeralda". I did, and he slipped me, you guessed it, three bucks.
Sanchez is always there on Friday nights, but for some reason he always sets up on the Fingerhut Gallery corner, even though the ladies in there hate him. While the gallery is open he plays quietly, so I tried to play equally quietly so that he wouldn't feel like he had to turn up to compete.
But even though we were both playing quietly, after a while a cop came walking up, talked to Sanchez, went inside to talk to the gallery ladies, and then to Sanchez again. I was sweating, and started playing my quietest songs, as quietly as possible, but after he had given Sanchez the warning, he walked across the street, and right on by without saying a word. Whew.
Two moms came by with three little kids, and gave each of them a dollar to put in the jar. Since hardly anyone else was there, even though I was mid-Hotel California, I managed to tell the little girl that she could pick a song from the list. It was hardly surprising that she chose "Let It Go", but although the moms were actually getting ready to go, I had basically shanghaied their kids and kept them there for a half hour or so with Disney songs, then dance songs, and fingerlights. And having those kids there brought in some other kids and their families, and we had quite a party going on for a while there. Sometimes you gotta do whatever it takes.
But later in the evening, the gallery closed so Sanchez cranked it up. A lot. I was forced to play only my noisier "rock" songs, which, for me, a few is plenty. And to make it even harder, a homeless guy called "Digger" came by. He plays guitar and sings on the streets for money too, and has a huge loud voice. He proceeded to sing along to all my songs, and can bellow as loud as I'm singing, even without an amplifier.
So about 9:30 I decided that it wasn't fun anymore, and decided to save some finger strength for Saturday.
As we were packing up, a guy came up and told me how "beautiful and pure" my voice is. He said that he writes movies for movies, mostly documentaries. He said that it was mostly instrumental music, but he wanted to buy a CD and take my card, just in case, someday. It'll never happen, of course, but it was flattering anyway.
Found myself with nothing to do on Sunday afternoon, so at about 2:00 I thought I'd go down and see if there was anybody to play to in Laguna.
But the iPad music book is really hard to see in bright sunlight, so I figured I'd print a copy of the most common songs. A couple of hours of editing later, looking for a binder to put them in, I discovered that I already had this bright idea last year, and only really needed to print a dozen or so new songs to add to it. Which I did, but all this screwing around got me down there *much* later than I'd hoped. So late that it wasn't all that sunny anymore and I didn't need the paper book. Oh, well -- I'll have it for next time.
So I got there *much* later than I'd hoped. The Tommies were on the gallery corner, but the ice cream corner was free so I set right up. There were lots of people and tourists out, and I did pretty well. Found a strange coin in the tip jar that turned out to be from Iran, and worth almost four cents.
Toward the evening a possibly tipsy guy came up. He apparently had heard me play "Landslide" by Stevie Nicks before, because he started gushing about my version of it, ostentatiously pulled out a twenty dollar bill, put it in the jar, and asked me to play "some Stevie". I did, and he stood back and told everyone trying to go by that I was playing "his song". When it was over, he came up and told me that he was a studio musician and he used to play with Stevie. Could be true, I suppose.
Then he gushed some more about how great I am, and how I gotta "keep doing what you're doing". That was basically my plan anyway, but thanks for the encouragement. And the twenty.
When we got there at 4:00 the day before it was too hot for anyone to sit on the bench and listen, so this time we showed up at 6:00. The weather was certainly better, but there was already someone on the corner -- two "travelers" playing original, profanity-laced, protest songs. Some of it was actually moderately clever, but none of the passers-by slowed down enough to catch any of it. Their appearance, profanity, and anger weren't really bringing the people in...
Warren had talked to them and they'd said that they'd only be another hour or so, so we just waited them out. Starting at 7:00 made for a much shorter gig, with a lot less "nobody there yet" time. We had lots of people the whole time -- lots of kids and lots of "Let It Go" parties.
We had a big Indian family reunion, and a crazy guy from "the USSR". Once, as I was finishing up singing "Twinkle, Twinkle", a heavily-accented lady by said, "But can you sing it in French?" as she breezed by.
A really great night, overall. Lots of tips, despite the shorter playing time, lots of friendly people making requests, three CDs sold, and lots of happy kids singing "Let It Go", and shaking my little tambourine sticks, if not "along with", at least "at the same time as", the fast songs. It's gonna be a great summer.
Before they shut down the Mission Viejo Farmer's Market, they tried to enliven it with the addition of an "Artisan's Row". It didn't work, obviously, but they've started a new Artisan's Fair -- all art, no vegetables -- and asked me to play. I told her I'd be happy to, but only for two hours (not the entire four) since I'd need to have some stamina left to play at Laguna that same Saturday evening.
They set me up under an Easy-Up way over in a corner, to provide access to the nearest building's electrical power, but it was still too far, so I just played by battery. The worst of both worlds! Using up battery life that I'd need for the evening, and far away from any possible listeners.
But, despite there being almost no patrons, the artists were friendly and/or grateful, and clapped after every song. So it wasn't too bad.
I was hoping some kids would come, so I could play "Let It Go". Finally I spotted a dad with his two kids were way over there, so I started it up, watching the little girl recognize it, and excitedly tell her dad. Lots of kids have watched the DVD of the movie a million times, and know, not just the song, but the exact movements of Elsa as she sings it. This little girl was obviously singing along, because I could see her doing the whole routine -- magical snowball creation here, grand gesture there, etc.
A few people braved the long walk to come over and talk to me, and two even bought CDs. One lady asked for "Blackbird" and "Amie". Another lady came over with her grandson in a shopping cart, and pulled him out so they could dance together on "You've Got a Friend in Me" from "Toy Story".
And almost at the end, a lady and her crazy-dressed teen-aged daughter came over. The daughter asked for "Let It Go", and the mom asked for "Amie". I guess that song is more popular than I think it is.
The trickiest part is that I basically had the same audience for the whole two hours. Usually I have a (high) turnover rate, and could get away with five songs over and over. But I felt like I had to play all different songs the whole time, so after my usual 15 or 20 songs, I still had an hour left to fill. That's not actually a problem, since there are 280 songs in the book these days, but it was unusual.
We arrived at 4:30 to be sure to get The Corner, but that turned out to be completely unnecessary -- especially considering that it was way too hot for anyone to sit on the bench anyway, so it was probably an hour and a half before the sun went behind the buildings and it was cool enough for anyone to stop and listen. Noted for next time...
Pretty early on some people were on the bench so I tried to give them a song list, but they said, "We don't know these songs". I asked them where they were from, and they said "Europe". We thought that seemed a bit vague, and Warren asked "Where in Europe?", to which they replied, "Budapest". Did they really think that we had never heard of Budapest?
By around 7:00 we had were a bunch of families there for a round of "Let It Go", bubbles, etc. That party had mostly faded out when a police car came around the corner and stopped. He rolled down his window and yelled "Sir..." at me, so I stopped the song and went over there so he could lie to me that "Technically, you can't have amplification", and ask me to shut it down or at least turn it "way down". I told him I'd do that.
I finished the song, and the last of the listeners left, and I decided that we might as well quit. But as we were packing up, it occurred to me that we have never been cop-hassled when Sanchez wasn't on the other corner. I had to wonder if the cop was called to talk to "the guy playing guitar on the corner" and I'm a lot easier to see, with my top hat, while Sanchez is mostly hidden from the street by a big bush.
So, since we were quitting so early, the Fingerhut Gallery was still open, so I decided that this was our big chance to go talk to the ladies in there and see what was what.
They told us that, no, they like our music and they'd never called the cops on us, it was "that guy", meaning Sanchez, still hammering away outside. I agreed with them that his stuff is pretty annoying, and they laughed when I suggested that "it might not be so bad if he'd learn another song". (All his stuff is modal, droning, and in the same key. I suspect there are at least three or four "songs" there, but they all sound alike.)
I asked them, then, when they call the cops, could they try to be a bit more specific about who they mean, so the cops will hassle the right guy. They agreed with that idea going forward, but said that they hadn't called the cops this time. Which left us with a mystery, 'cuz the Ice Cream store guy loves us, and Chico's and the new massage place above it were closed. (I hate to think it, but could it have been Sanchez himself?) Unfortunately, the cops will never tell us who called, which seems to me to violate some kind of "know your accuser" statute, but who wants to argue with a cop? But at least we know that the Fingerhut ladies didn't, and won't, call -- so next time I'll try to have the courage to ask the cop if he's sure the call was about us, or "that guy".
Anyway, the New Song Of The Week was "I'm Into Something Good" by Herman's Hermits, though it was written by Gerry Goffin and Carole King. I thought it might be a nice jolly tune to play, possibly along the lines of "Mrs. Robinson", which is a big crowd pleaser these days. I played through it, but there was hardly anyone around, so it's hard to tell if it's going to work out or not yet.
Perfect weather, and we're starting to get a noticeable influx of tourists. Of the ones I asked, we had a group from New York, one from London, and three ladies from Spain. One of those came up and was all excited by the music, and when she read through my list, she was thrilled to find "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. I was equally surprised that a lady from Spain knew American country songs...
We had some homeless guys monopolizing the bench right at first, but they got bored after a while. But worse, "Spider" is back in town. He plays music himself, but when he comes by, he just wants to disrupt what I'm doing. He loudly requests "funny" songs, and at the end of a song, he'll either loudly proclaim "Excellent rendition, gentlemen!" as if we're auditioning for him, or he'll boo. This makes the regular people very uncomfortable...
Anyway, we had lots of families come by, and I played "Twinkle Twinkle" for the tiny ones, and, of course, "Let It Go" for the bigger ones. Only found one group that was brave enough to come up and sing along, though.
I've spent some of my newly-unemployed hours working up new songs. "Margaritaville" seems to work quite well. I played it late in the evening when nobody was around, and several people came out of nowhere to listen and smile. It's *such* a cliché, but I guess in this context, it works. "Blue Bayou" sounds good, but may be too dull. "Cowgirl in the Sand" sounds pretty good too, but is really only for use when a Neil Young fan shows up.
I'm usually a stickler for accurate (as much as possible) arrangements of songs, but I worked up a version of "Pretty Woman", transposed down to where I can sing it. The new key makes it impossible to play the signature riffs, though, so I'm just, not. I expected it to sound weird without them, but it doesn't bother me as much as I expected it to. Warren, on the other hand, seemed unconvinced that this wasn't blasphemy (and lame). I guess I'll have to try it out a few times when he's not there and see what the audience thinks.
A very nice older lady came over to tell me that she'd been listening while she was shopping at Chico's. It's a bit worrisome that I'm loud enough to be heard inside a store across the street, but it was nice of her to say so, and she was impressed enough to sit a while and listen to some more songs, and then bought a CD.
Late in the evening, a lady came by and asked me to play "Bridge Over Troubled Water", which is in my book, but not on the list, so she must have caught me playing it before sometime. I don't do it much because the high notes sound really strained unless I'm *really* warmed up, but I was, and my range has been moving upwards a bit, so I did it -- and probably the best I ever have.
More nice weather, which brought out lots of people and lots of kids -- especially for a Friday.
I was a little disoriented after not playing so long on my vacation, but my hands remembered how to play the songs, and I got into the swing of it pretty quickly. I had people to play for the whole time, which is always nice.
And of course, lots of "Let It Go" sing-along parties. I don't know when the backlash will start to be visible, but it's not yet. I play it a lot, but it's so well-received that I doesn't bother me a bit. I do draw the line at playing it twice in a row, however, no matter how hard they plead.
As I was setting up, a dad and his little three-year-old boy walked by my guitar case, with its "starter money" and the little blinking-light "lantern" that I put in it so people will (a) notice it, and (b) not trip on it.
The little boy pointed at the blinking lights and said, "Daddy, look!" and the dad said, "Don't touch it! I think it's an alarm."
I wasn't expecting much, since the last few Fridays have been pretty slow, but it was nice weather, and a lot of people, and especially kids, were out.
I must have sung "Let It Go" six or seven times; three or four of them as on-stage sing-alongs. That song always brings in a crowd, but if I have some kids already there, I ask if anybody's seen the movie "Frozen" -- as if there's any way any of the kids wouldn't have by now. The question always gets the expected enthusiastic response, so then I ask if anybody knows all the words to The Song.
Anybody that raises their hand is automatically a volunteer to come up on stage, particularly after I tell them where to stand and to face "that way, toward the cameras", which makes sure that the parents will insist that their kids come up (as they get their cameras out). Fortunately, the movie appeals to an age of kids that mostly aren't too self-conscious to get up and sing yet.
I also get teenage girls that love that song, and though they won't get up and sing, they're fun to have because they tend to also know a bunch of the other Disney songs, so I can play a whole set of them. Some of the littler ones don't know, say, "The Little Mermaid", which isn't terribly surprising since it came out 24 years ago. Still, by the magic of DVD, some of them do, and my "picture menu" Kids' Songs list was a stroke of genius.
Anyway, a really great night, and I made an almost-record amount in tips, so I must have been doing something right.
