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.
I met these two Long Beach guys who play together, but due to disparate music styles, not at the same time. They like to set up somewhere, and take turns playing songs. They've expanded that idea to add more musicians, and they call it "Lorenzo and Jay's Jamboree". This time it was in the Cultural Alliance of Long Beach's art gallery/workshop/hangout above the "Shenanigans" bar in Shoreline Village, across the bay from the Queen Mary. I know! Could it get any more complicated?
Anyway, we started out with just the three of us, but more guys showed up later on until there were seven players. Most of the time there were fewer than seven people there listening, and most of them were really there to work on their art projects. But toward the end, more people came (I don't know why or where from), until we had about 20.
They were quite appreciative, despite the wildly disparate music. We had 12-string strummy guy (Lorenzo), Johnny Cash-style 12-bar blues (Jay), sings along with 50's classics on backup tracks guy, R&B guy, kinda-Irish with (terrific) harmonica guy, ukulele novelty-tunes guy, and me: 70's nostalgia pop.
Mostly, it was like an Open Mic night -- indeed, I had met Tracks and Ukulele guy before at the Sababa Open Mic. But since the room and stage were large enough that everyone could be set up ready to play, there was a lot less downtime between songs, and it went round-robin instead of each guy getting a 3 or 4 song set and done.
It also made it like a "battle of the bands" because, of course, each guy wanted to outdo the one before him. It's pretty great for beginners to not have the pressure of a solo gig, but to have some pressure to do their best.
I don't know if I'll do another one, 'cuz an hour drive each way to play 10 songs is pretty low ROI, but the guy who runs the place was apparently impressed and asked me to come back and do a solo set in two weeks. That'll definitely be worth the drive.
I got an email from a guy who had heard me play for the Santa Claus line, saying how much he liked it, and wondering if I was free to play for his family's Christmas Eve party. Since all my family stuff is on Christmas Day, I said yes.
I was hoping it was going to be more than just, like, him and his mom, but fortunately, he has a really big family and there were about 30 people there: grandma, aunts, uncles, cousins, and half-a-dozen kids.
In an email, he warned me that, since last year his grandma was too frail to attend except in her pajamas, they now have a family tradition of the whole party is in pajamas -- and I could do the same. But when I found out that it was going to be in the back yard, I decided to wear my usual 4-layer Playing In December outfit. I didn't have the luxury of hanging out under one of the heaters, or going inside to warm up, like they all did. Nobody seemed to mind that I was Out Of Uniform. And of course, they all go out and get new fun pajamas just for this.
As I was leaving, the guy told me that it was great, and especially since his mom, who usually never leaves the kitchen at these things, was compelled to come out and actually enjoy the music/party for once.
I left him with 5 Christmas CDs and 5 "Favorites" CDs, as my Christmas gifts/souvenirs for whoever wanted them.
I did so well the night before that I just had to come down again. I don't have many free nights in December to waste.
Not as many people, but still a lot of fun. Somehow, it turned into sing-along night. I had one girl sing "Baby It's Cold Outside" with me, which went great and was fun. Then a girl went through the list, but she was looking for a song for herself to sing -- somehow thinking that this was karaoke. That was awkward.
I had a pack of kids come up to sing "Let It Go", but they stayed and stayed, singing "Do You Want To Build a Snowman", and then "Frosty", "Rudolph", and "Jingle Bells". Finally their parents just had to drag them away.
I was braver about staying later, since nobody even seemed to be home at the closest house, so I was there until 10:45. Besides, I was trying to wait until a quiet spot to try to make a video of "Merry Christmas, Darling". The audio's not bad, but it was way too dark, and it's tough to be your own cameraman.
The rich people who live on the island in Naples put up incredible Christmas decorations, and huge crowds come down every year to walk around to see them. And even though I'd played almost every day for three weeks, I had to go down.
As I drove down there, the thickest fog bank I've ever seen loomed up and engulfed me. When I was playing, it was so wet that water was dripping down my amplifier and guitar, and I could barely tune the guitar with the tuning knobs so wet. The iPad screen got so wet that it would stop responding to my touch. Weird.
Anyway, it was terrific. It's like playing in Laguna, but there's no traffic noise, except the occasional putt-putt motorboat going by in the canal. And nobody's in a hurry to get anywhere, they're there to get some Christmas Spirit, so they welcome some music. Early on there are lots of families with little kids, so I can rope them in with some "Jingle Bells", "Frosty", or "Rudolph", but this year, what worked even better was "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" from "Frozen". And whenever I'd play it, lots of people would stop, and then I'd follow it with "Let It Go". At one point I had at least 50 people gathered around, with three of four kids up by me singing it, and half the teens in the audience singing along, too.
A pack of high school kids came by and I asked them to pick a Christmas song, and showed them my on-screen list. A girl asked me to do "Baby, It's Cold Outside", and I said that I'd love to, but somebody has to do the Girl Part. She said, "No, I couldn't", but her friends insisted that she could, and talked her into it. And she was great -- so much fun!
Later on, I was doing "Jingle Bell Rock" and a group was there, and one guy was singing along in a comic Elvis voice. So, of course, I fired up "Blue Christmas" next, and he looked at me with panic in his eyes and said "Is that... Oh, you're killing me." And he was right -- his wife and friends made him come up and sing it with me. Afterwards, he went over to the jar and put something in it, and then took one of my "jingle sticks" and just walked away with it. That was odd, but I think I probably came out ahead still.
So, for the seventh year in a row, I played for the line waiting to see Santa at the big Winter Wonderland that the city of Mission Viejo puts on. It's every Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday in December up until Christmas, which made for nine nights this year.
The lady used to try and book church choirs and Girl Scout troops for some of the nights, but that was always a disaster, so she just lets me do them all now (except the one night that overlaps with her colleague's event, the Holly Trolley).
And as always, it's great fun. Kids are fun to play for, and excited kids even more so. A lot of them show up in their best Christmas outfits, because they'll be getting photos with Santa and Mrs. Claus. The setup allows the parents to stay in line, but let their kids come over to where I'm playing.
I've been bringing the "tambourine sticks" to let the kids play along, though at this age, none of them actually shake the sticks to the rhythm of the song. The downside to those is trying to keep track of them -- about one per night goes home with someone. Fortunately, they're really cheap.
Along with Santa, there's hot chocolate, cookie decorating, model trains to play with, and Christmas cartoons (with, I finally convinced them, the sound turned way down -- doesn't seem to bother the kids, though).
There are also some high school kids in Frosty and Rudolph costumes. They've been instructed to "high five" the kids instead of hugging, so they don't get knocked over. One little girl went over to Frosty and did the high-five, then excitedly shouted to her mom, way at the end of the line, "Mom! Their hands are *fluffy*!"
The lady who books me for Santa's Workshop and the Farmers' Market gigs recommended me to the head of the Mission Viejo Chamber of Commerce to play their "Holiday Mixer". See, it really is "who you know".
I was expecting a(nother) dull party, but there were a couple hundred people, and they were ready to par-tay. There was an official photographer like at a senior prom, free food (provided by local member businesses), and "Casino Night". Everyone got some free "money" at the door, and at the end of the evening, their winnings (if any) converted into raffle tickets for prizes.
So everyone was busy talking, eating, and gambling while I played, but lots of people came over to say nice things. But oddly, the guy had also booked the "Mission Viejo High School Choir". When I got the signal, I took a break and in they came -- 5 kids and the director. That hardly qualifies as a "choir", but the crowd shushed down and could maybe hear the first few songs, but then they got bored and wanted to get back to their casino games, and it got noisier and completely drowned the poor kids out. As they left, I told the director about the senior home I'd played at that's within walking distance of the school, and would be a far better venue for the kids to sing at.
I played a little more, and then they stopped the games to do the raffle, which took forever. When that was done, most everyone took it as a signal that the party was over, but some people stayed so I played a few more songs, and some couples danced to "White Christmas", etc. That was fun.
While I was packing up, the guy who organized the party came up and told me that everyone loved the music, and it "made the party", etc. So hopefully he'll hire me again sometime.
This was the Holiday Party for my brother's "Elliot Inn" lawyer club that I played for back in September. It was at a fancy restaurant's ball room in Irvine. Everybody except me was in a suit, but, you know, they're lawyers. And I did wear a tie...
It was probably twice as big of a party than the other lawyer party I played at a week earlier. So louder and "looser". No clapping, but several people came up to say nice things. And take a card.
Since it was lawyers again, I put out my "CDs are free. (My tip jar is over there -->)" sign. This is meant to invoke the usual "Suggested donation" dodge of people who don't have business licenses -- cheerleader carwashes, etc. I had thought that lawyers, especially, would get the joke, and not take me at my word and go home with free CDs.
And one guy took a CD and put in a tenner. But four more guys took CDs and put on a buck or three. So I didn't lose money on the deal, but it sure shook my faith in humanity when these guys who make a couple hundred bucks an hour for their expertise decided that mine was worth so little...
Unexpectedly, they had also scheduled a guy to give a humorous (to lawyers) speech about the wild and wooly old days of Orange County law. Luckily for them, I had set up a spare microphone that (barely) reached the podium where he stood. He finished up with only 15 minutes left of the party, so I played some more, but the place was emptying out as people decided that the end of the speech was the end of the party.
So, not great, but a better lawyer party than the last one. The CD debacle left a bad taste in my mouth, but I did get paid, so I should shut up.
Like years past, I signed up to play the "receptions" for the Mission Viejo Activities Committee's "Holly Trolley" event, where they take people around to see the winners of the Christmas lighting contest in three sightseeing buses.
There are two departure times each of the two nights, and each is preceded by an hour reception, where there's cookies, finger food, hot cider and chocolate, and music: me.
Usually, it's in the garden party space out behind City Hall, but this year, with the forecast of rain for Friday, they moved it into the big lobby. This was fine with me, 'cuz indoors is (A) better acoustics, and (B) warmer. And once they got it all set up, they kept it in the lobby for Saturday, too. There was some discussion about whether it was better there anyway, and they may keep it there for next year, too. Got my vote.
But the whole event is a little awkward, because the worst part of playing a party is getting started, and for all four of these, just as me and the guests are starting to get warmed up, somebody comes in, shouts "All aboard!" and steals my audience.
And, when I play a party, I get there early and get all set up, and then when the first guests arrive, I start playing. Of course, they're all alone in a big open room, so they're shy, and it's awkward that they're getting a personal concert, so after that first song, they don't/can't clap. Then more people show up, and when the next song is over, they follow the lead and precedent of the first set, so they don't clap, either. And so on until there's a big party going on, but the "no clapping" behavior has become the standard. But I don't let it bother me. Anymore.
It's meant to be volunteer work -- everybody else there is on the Activities Committee -- along with the Santa's Workshops that I play. Between these two (four?) gigs, and the nine Workshop nights, I'm playing for them, for "free", a lot of nights. It's big fun playing for the kids so I'm OK with that, but last year they unexpectedly sent me an honorarium, which I hope they'll do again.
The Saturday Holly Trolley overlaps with, and trumps, a Santa's Workshop night, and is the only Santa night that I missed. One of the Santa's Helpers ladies told me that I really add a lot to the Workshop event, and that when I wasn't there, I was "really missed". Well, shucks...
My wife volunteered me to come play some Christmas music for the old folks at the senior center where she takes the dogs to visit twice a month. It was in a big multipurpose room, with a stage and everything. Playing *indoors*. Twice in a row!
All the old folks were very nice, and of course loved the Christmas music and some other songs to fill out the hour. Lots of them sang along on the classics: "White Christmas", "I'll Be Home...", "Winter Wonderland", "Comin' to Town", etc.
The only dark spot was a guy over at the side who would not, did not stop talking the whole time. It wasn't much of a problem for me, 'cuz once I was playing I couldn't hear him, but the poor guy next to him looked beleaguered. Staff people kept going over to try to shut him up, but had no luck. Finally one of the staff ladies went over and managed to get him talking to her, to let the other guy off the hook. She couldn't stop Mister Talkative, but she could change his target. Awfully nice of her to take that bullet...
When I finished, lots of the old folks came up to tell me how nice it was, and how much they liked the music, etc. After they were all gone, the lady who runs the program came by to tell me how much everyone enjoyed it, and if I wanted to, she could set me up on a monthly schedule, and pay me $60 per visit. That's a ways below my usual fee, but a steady gig, guaranteed nice (mostly) attentive audience, indoors, with great acoustics -- I think I may take her up on that.
Let's just say it was nothing like what I was picturing. I thought it was gonna a "Holiday Party", with like lots of people, chatting and laughing, cheerful lighting, spiked punch, inappropriate remarks, lampshades on heads -- you know, like a cocktail party you see on TV.
Instead it was an "on the way home from work" get together. No spouses, just a bunch of lawyers with nothing in common but work, talking shop for two hours while I played over in the corner like I was in a different movie. More like a company meeting than a party. Or rather like when some people get to a meeting a little early and are standing around talking.
Since I'd be in a room full of lawyers, and I'm not technically legally allowed to *sell* CDs (no business license, and no rights to the songs), I made up a sign that I was hoping they'd find amusing -- "CDs are free. My tip jar is over there -->". They had a table out for me, so I put the sign, some Christmas CDs, some regular CDs, and my song lists out. I thought, "Lawyers make a lot of money, they'll be good tippers, and I'll make more than my usual five bucks per CD".
So here I was in this dark little side room at a restaurant, the size of a living room. About 30 people total, all jammed on the other side of the room as far away from me as possible. I'd'a thought I was too loud, but the lady running the "party" told me that the volume was "just right".
They just stayed away from me like I was selling life insurance, and from the table like it was "Free Ebola". Finally near the end of the party, somebody put in two bucks, and a guy took one of each CD, and put in five bucks. So much for "Lawyers will be good tippers".
Coincidentally, the corporate lawyer from Toshiba was one of the 30 lawyers there, and we had worked together on some stuff and became friends. Before he left, he also took one of each CD and put in a ten -- my usual price.
But hey, I got paid to be there. And nobody said that your job was gonna be "fun" all the time.
I'd had a cold the previous week, and then somehow tweaked my back so I couldn't even get the amp into the van and had had to cancel last Saturday's Laguna trip, so I was determined to get down there somehow this time. Especially since I'm so busy in December that this would be my only chance to sing Christmas music in Laguna this year.
My back is still trashed, but I took a clue from NASA and hooked the amp up to the top of the hatchback with a bunch of bungee cords. At "Moon gravity", it was much easier to lift up and in.
When I drove past the corner, I was surprised to see our summertime nemesis, the Tommies, playing there. I rolled on over to the Fingerhut side anyway, but before I'd hardly started setting up, Tom came over and volunteered to move to the Tunnel. Apparently, he wasn't doing well against the loud ice cream store music and the cold. He and little Tommie would be warmer and louder in the enclosed and echoey tunnel.
Because of my back, I brought a little fold-up stool to lean against. It felt weird not to be standing, but being down a little lower pointed the monitor speaker right toward my head, which really helped me sing.
The now ever present bums were mostly over on the far bench, but the foot traffic was pretty low, so we didn't have too many people. Except for one quiet stretch late in the evening when I had four or five couples captured by "Bridge Over Troubled Water". That's really the best, when some people mean to walk on by but are pulled up short and stop.
One little boy decided that the best way to keep Mom from dragging him away was to just sit down, right there. She got the hint.
We had more than usual police presence, which I now look forward to, since I'm pretty sure they're not going to shut me down. They usually can't do anything about the bums, but just having them come by helps modulate the behavior. A cop came by to talk to Shirtless Josh, apparently called in by a woman who didn't appreciate his critique of her anatomy. Good for her. Maybe we need to call him "Clueless" Josh, since he kept insisting that it was a compliment...
At one point, an older guy for whom the term "stumble bum" was coined tried to walk through the corner. And he almost made it, but as he walked past Warren, he fell over backwards onto Warren's (empty) guitar case and into his equipment tower, tumbling over a carefully-rigged set of effects pedals. Warren and an audience member had to drag him up onto his feet and sit him on the bench to sober up a little while I tried to dispel some of the awkwardness by singing another song. Fortunately, no permanent damage to Warren's stuff.
And we had the little Mexican drunk who likes to chat people up for a while before asking to "borrow" a dollar. He thinks he's our friend, and when he came up to me for the third time to fist-bump, I had to tell him outright to stop chasing away "my customers". "Oh, I don't do that!" Yes, you do. I'm pretty sure the people sat down to listen to the music, not to make a new friend.
And then a little before 10, some of the guys who'd wandered off returned and sat right there on the main bench. One of them took to shouting "Wanna buy some weed?" over and over at the passing people. I suffered through it for a while, but it was the last straw, and I just quit mid-song and packed up.
As much as I like playing down there, I'm kinda looking forward to a month of playing places *without* drunken bums.
I'd had a cold the previous week, and then somehow tweaked my back so I couldn't even get the amp into the van and had had to cancel last Saturday's Laguna trip, so I was determined to get down there somehow this time. Especially since I'm so busy in December that this would be my only chance to sing Christmas music in Laguna this year.
My back is still trashed, but I took a clue from NASA and hooked the amp up to the top of the hatchback with a bunch of bungee cords. At "Moon gravity", it was much easier to lift up and in.
When I drove past the corner, I was surprised to see our summertime nemesis, the Tommies, playing there. I rolled on over to the Fingerhut side anyway, but before I'd hardly started setting up, Tom came over and volunteered to move to the Tunnel. Apparently, he wasn't doing well against the loud ice cream store music and the cold. He and little Tommie would be warmer and louder in the enclosed and echoey tunnel.
Because of my back, I brought a little fold-up stool to lean against. It felt weird not to be standing, but being down a little lower pointed the monitor speaker right toward my head, which really helped me sing.
The now ever present bums were mostly over on the far bench, but the foot traffic was pretty low, so we didn't have too many people. Except for one quiet stretch late in the evening when I had four or five couples captured by "Bridge Over Troubled Water". That's really the best, when some people mean to walk on by but are pulled up short and stop.
One little boy decided that the best way to keep Mom from dragging him away was to just sit down, right there. She got the hint.
We had more than usual police presence, which I now look forward to, since I'm pretty sure they're not going to shut me down. They usually can't do anything about the bums, but just having them come by helps modulate the behavior. A cop came by to talk to Shirtless Josh, apparently called in by a woman who didn't appreciate his critique of her anatomy. Good for her. Maybe we need to call him "Clueless" Josh, since he kept insisting that it was a compliment...
At one point, an older guy for whom the term "stumble bum" was coined tried to walk through the corner. And he almost made it, but as he walked past Warren, he fell over backwards onto Warren's (empty) guitar case and into his equipment tower, tumbling over a carefully-rigged set of effects pedals. Warren and an audience member had to drag him up onto his feet and sit him on the bench to sober up a little while I tried to dispel some of the awkwardness by singing another song. Fortunately, no permanent damage to Warren's stuff.
And we had the little Mexican drunk who likes to chat people up for a while before asking to "borrow" a dollar. He thinks he's our friend, and when he came up to me for the third time to fist-bump, I had to tell him outright to stop chasing away "my customers". "Oh, I don't do that!" Yes, you do. I'm pretty sure the people sat down to listen to the music, not to make a new friend.
And then a little before 10, some of the guys who'd wandered off returned and sat right there on the main bench. One of them took to shouting "Wanna buy some weed?" over and over at the passing people. I suffered through it for a while, but it was the last straw, and I just quit mid-song and packed up.
As much as I like playing down there, I'm kinda looking forward to a month of playing places *without* drunken bums.
