I guess it just goes to show how variable it can be. Although two weeks ago we had plenty of people to play to, this time we were basically alone the whole five and a half hours we stood out there. But it was awfully cold out, and all the young women are invariably dressed in impressively skimpy outfits so I can't really blame them for not wanting to stop. Though they did frequently dance through the corner on their way past, so that's something.
Part way through the evening my wife's sister's ex-husband (my ex-brother-in-law?) and his new fiancée and friends came through. He stared at me on his way through, probably recognizing me somewhat, but since I was in the middle of a song I nodded at him but couldn't say anything. Later on they came back through again the other direction and he stopped this time to be amazed at running into me this way, and to request "God Only Knows".
I had built a new electronic drum pedal, but even though it sounded OK at home, it was way too quiet to use out on the corner even with the volume turned all the way up. On top of that I was having terrible feedback problems, so I had to turn the bass down on the guitar which made it sound terrible. And at the end of the evening, the microphone started fading out and then causing a really strange distortion. I think that may have been caused by the new amplifier battery running down, but I'll have to chase that down before my next gig. (OTOH, maybe five hours is plenty...)
Anyway , it was a pretty lame evening, and has convinced me not to pursue my previous idea of going down on "Tommy Saturdays" and playing the 11 o'clock to 2 a.m. shift. At least not until the warmer days of Spring get here. But by then I hope to have the option of playing in Dana Point instead.
I'm basically playing this place every other Friday for a while, which is great, though it might have been nice if it had fallen antipodally to the weekends that we're on in Laguna. On the other hand, this gives me every other weekend free. Like I have somewhere else to be...
Anyway, it was a little sparse this week, but pleasant. And the owner doesn't seem to hold it against me that the place isn't packed.
Which makes sense since I dropped by last Friday to drop off some posters for her to put up, and of course, check out the competition. The guy was even older than me, barely competent on guitar, and trying unsuccessfully to get people to come up and sing, karaoke style, to his ancient folk songs. I believe I’m certainly a better bet for her in the long run than that guy...
One nice couple requested a bunch of songs and finally got up to leave, and asked me on their way out when I'd be back. The guy said, "You play our kind of music". I know, right?
Another lady had also requested a bunch of songs, and finally asked for "Stardust". She asked me to confirm that that was the Hoagy Carmichael song, which, yes it is. She said that she had done a paper in college about how songs from the Great American Classics were so easily made terrible, and that her example had been "Stardust" as rendered by Regis Philbin.
That pretty much put the pressure on, but when it was done, she proclaimed my version "beautiful". Whew!
Well, that went pretty great. Back in "the big room", with the terrific acoustics, so the sound was good, not much feedback from the guitar, the replacement microphone works good, and the new battery seems to be OK, too.
I was somehow less embarrassed than usual there, and managed to talk a little between songs. This is actually a daycare for oldsters with memory issues, and last time it became pretty clear that although some of them are reasonably together, most of them don't remember yesterday, much less the last time I was there playing.
I try to play songs that their generation might recognize, and there may be something to the rumor that even if they don't remember much else, songs have a way of sticking. But I'm torn between old songs that I don't do that well, and newer stuff that I'm really good at. So I kind of split the difference, and play some of each -- which suits the younger ladies that work there just fine.
And the old folks are either very appreciative, or very polite. Nice applause after every number, and at the end several people come up to tell me how much they enjoyed it. Including a visitor who was there with his sister to visit his other sister. He was from Tennessee and appreciated my rendition of their waltz, and his sister is from Georgia, who was glad to hear "... On My Mind".
And a dapper gent named Carlo came up and was telling me how much he enjoyed it, but *very* quietly, so I smiled and thanked him, and got a little closer as he went on, and then realized that he was speaking Italian the whole time. But the big gestures and smile told me everything I needed to know...
Quite a night! I got a new Li-Ion battery for the amp that carried us through six and a half hours of play before giving out. I hadn't realized how the old battery arrangement was keeping me from overdoing it -- now I can play until my back is *completely* destroyed! Yay?
Anyway, it was pretty thin at first, though I roped in a pretty big bunch of older couples with a James Taylor run. But as the evening goes on toward 2am, the average age of the passers-by asymptotically approaches 21, in inverse proportion to blood alcohol level, so in the later hours it got pretty crazy.
I brought the drum pedal and it sounds pretty good for some of the faster songs, and I built a tambourine accessory that sounds good for some others. Unfortunately, I could only use it for half the night...
Around 11, Warren was off on a break and two young dudes showed up while I was playing "American Pie". One of them asked "Can I join you?" and I said "Sure" in between lines, expecting that he meant to stand up by me and sing along. But he grabbed Warren's guitar and strapped it on! I couldn't very well stop him, and wondered what made him think he would know the chords anyway.
Turns out he didn't actually play guitar in the first place, and was just pretending to play it, and trying to sing along too -- but he was massively drunk and couldn't keep up at all. His perceptive and sober friend, James, managed to get the guitar safely away from him before Warren came back, but couldn't convince him to step away from the "stage" where he kept entreating me to teach him how to sing. I wasn't sure how to do that, then and there, even if I had wanted to, but managed to eventually tell him that the first step would be to try it when he's sober.
James then asked if he could play a song, and I said that I couldn't let him play Warren's, but he could play mine. He played "Blackbird" quite well, and was an astonishingly fast learner when I pointed out two small errors in his version. I was impressed, and when they started to leave, I thought I'd give him a card. Unfortunately, while we were talking I had hooked my head mic onto my pants pocket, and in the process of chasing James down, it fell out, and I stepped on the wire and yanked it out, dead.
Which put me dead in the water for the rest of the evening -- except! I have a spare handheld mic in my bag for the occasional guest singer, and once Warren fetched a mic stand out of his car, and we were back up (though drum-less -- too much for my little brain to try to work the drum and a strange mic setup at the same time). And a good thing we figured out a way to keep going, too, 'cuz it was just starting to get interesting!
We had a big batch of Woo Girls come by -- perfectly timed as I was running through their National Anthem, "Sweet Caroline". Sadly, they were gone as quickly as they came -- my "place" has a great band, but without a liquor license...
But the unforeseen problem with using a boom mic (versus my head-mounted one) is that crazy people (or drunk ones) assume that they can come on up and take over the singing chores. It's disruptive, and hardly ever works out well (since drunk people tend to sing as well as they walk), but it's fun if it doesn't go too far.
Anyway, it was a crazy, long, fun, night. But finally at a little after 2, when the streets were nearly empty again, the new amp battery ran out and gave me permission to go on home.
Apparently the owner likes my stuff 'cuz when she had a cancellation, she called me to fill in. That's a good sign, right?
This was my third time here, and it went even better than before. With familiarity, the sound setup was much better (less feedback). And with increased confidence, I can let my guard down a little and actually play.
They've apparently embraced my Song List passout idea now -- I heard one of the guys telling some customers that I was a "human jukebox" and for them to request some songs from the list (along with making lame jokes about Black Sabbath songs, etc.). And the owner was encouraging people at the far-away bar to make requests, and shuttling them up to me by coming over and pointing at a song on the list while I was still in the middle of the previous song. She apparently doesn't realize how hard it is to read, process, and remember the name of a next song while continuing to sing the words of the current one, but I managed. And it's so cute that she's helping out like that.
My neighbors from up the hill evidently had fun last time 'cuz they came by again. And my brother came too, so I introduced them so he wouldn't have to sit there by himself.
Anyway, it went really well -- knowing that the owner and staff like my stuff and my methods made me able to be more bold about asking people to make requests, which causes more involvement, and gets the party going. Having my neighbors and brother there helped, too.
So I was getting requests several deep from all corners, including notes carried over from the bar. A lot of couples there were on pre-Valentine's dates, and at one point a lady was looking for something appropriate. I recommended "Wonderful Tonight", which she immediately approved and she and her husband, and the couple that were with them, both got up and danced in the tiny space between tables. Added fun: toward the end, the twenty-something staff guy started making "out of the box" requests -- "Watching the Detectives", "Whiter Shade of Pale" and such.
I already had one more gig booked there, but since it's going so well, I went ahead and asked the owner if she wanted to schedule some more, and she set me up for two more gigs beyond that, so I'll be there every other Friday for the next six weeks. And she asked if she could call if/when she gets any cancellations, too. Absolutely!
The weatherman said it would be done raining by 5, but it was still drizzling as I drove down at 6:30. But I'd been practicing with my new bass drum and working up a bunch of new (or unfinished old) songs, and I wasn't about to miss one of our rare Saturdays, even if I had to stand out there all alone.
And I'm glad I went. It sprinkled for the first hour or so, but since the ice cream store was closed, we were able to set up under their narrow awning and stay mostly dry. And a surprising amount of people were out, though only a very few stopped. That was OK though, I was mainly there to experiment with the new stuff I'd been working on.
But even before I was fully set up, a lady came by with her dog and declared, "You have those two CDs, one for adults and one for kids". Um, yes, I do. "You should record another one for adults -- I love the one I have." I told her that, since there are 25 songs on that first CD, it was essentially a "double album", but that, yes, I may have enough new material by now to do another one. I hadn't been considering that, but now I will.
We mostly ran through the songs that I've been playing with and trying to get the hang of using the bass drum pedal on. But around 9:00 or so, it had dried out enough that some people could sit on the bench, so a nice couple did, and asked for a few songs. And then a girl showed up with her two little dogs and asked for "some Eagles", and chose "Peaceful Easy Feeling" of the offered choices. Then she asked for "Desperado", and started crying midway through it. She apologized (?!) and explained that a friend had died two weeks earlier. Then she asked for "Bridge Over Troubled Water", and had to bolt halfway through that one. You know, it's always nice when someone is affected by your music, but not to the point where they have to get up and leave...
Later on, as I was playing "Southern Cross" two ladies came by -- one short, quiet, and shy, and the other statuesque, large-breasted, and apparently somewhat inebriated. Since I was set up in front of the doorway to the ice cream shop, the flagpole that holds the "gate sign" was right in front of me. I don't really think of "Southern Cross" as a dancing song, but she started dancing anyway -- normally at first, but got more "grindy" as she went on, discovered the pole, and by the end of the song was apparently intent on having that pole's babies. Halfway through the song, she danced over and gave Warren a kiss on the cheek, and at the end, she kissed mine, and off they went, without so much as a howdy-do. The joys of busking...
Anyway, while I'd'a preferred having some audience to play for, the evening was helpful as a way to get some experience with the drum pedal and try out some songs in Real Life. I'd worked up Toto's "Africa" a few years ago, but couldn't really play it well enough. But with the new guitar, and the drum pedal to provide some rhythm and depth, it sounds pretty good. A lady came right over and put some money in the jar while mouthing the words, so that's a good sign. And "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and "Against the Wind" appear to be keepers, as I attempt to bring the average tempo of my list up a bit. And with the new guitar, I can finally really play "Layla", which nobody can resist singing along to, even as they walk on by.
Last time was pretty good, this time was even better. I set up just behind the little half-wall that divides the retail side form the bar, so I was closer to the people. That went a long way to allowing some interaction, and getting people to join in with requests. At one point I had requests 3 or 4 deep, which was basically one for each group that was there.
The funny part is, that although I'm acting like a jukebox, I'm not an actual jukebox, and I can hear. So when someone says "Oooh! 'Shower the People'!", but doesn't actually request it, I play it anyway, given no other requests at the time -- and they get all thrilled like I'm psychic or something. People.
About halfway through, three ladies came in, one of them black. As they were settling in at the table closest to me, some guy requested "Hey, Soul Sister", so without thinking, I fired it up. Then I looked up and wondered: How racist is this? Is a "soul sister" necessarily black? Does she think I'm playing this song because she came in? Awkward. Really awkward.
But apparently she didn't take offense 'cuz once they had ordered she started requesting songs, and happily singing along. Big Simon and Garfunkel fan. Wasn't brave enough to come up and sing the girl part of "Baby, It's Cold Outside", though.
A young couple came in and sat at the low table just behind the half-wall where I couldn't see them. When I stepped forward to see if they had any requests, they looked awfully familiar, and turned out to be some fans from the Borders Café days. Wow, actual fans who seek me out -- who'd'a thought? As they left (last ones out), Melissa said, "Thanks for another great Date Night, Keith!"
Warren couldn't make it but I wasn't about to let "our turn" at The Corner go by untaken, so I went alone. Besides, I'd been looking forward to it all week because...
I'd stumbled on a bass drum pedal thing at the Goodwill store for ten bucks. I'd looked at them before, but they're expensive, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to effective use it anyway. But for ten bucks, I snatched it up, for whatever I might be able to rig it up to do.
I thought it was just a practice "dummy" pad, but when I was looking for a way to attach my "foot tambourine" to it, I noticed a 1/4" jack, and when I plugged that into my amp, ta daa, it's a full-on electronic bass drum! There used to be a guy at Spectrum who sat on a "cajon" box and thumped it with the heel of his stockinged right foot, and it added a *lot* of depth, so here was my chance to give that a try.
Of course, since I'm already having to click the buttons on the harmony box at random times, it's a challenge to keep the beat going with my right foot at the same time. Not to mention that I have to sit down to be able to work both feet. So, I had to add a folding stool, this strange unwieldy contraption, and a piece of carpet to my "load out", but hopefully it was gonna be worth it.
But it was hard to tell. In my excitement, I'd forgotten that it's still winter, cold, and pretty dead down there. It's one thing to play mellow songs out into the empty darkness, and another to be hammering out party tunes all alone...
Besides, it was hard to figure out how loud to make the thing. I can't play and listen to it while I'm standing out in front, like I can my guitar. And with no audience, it's hard to gauge whether or not it's "working".
I did have a nice half-hour stint with five dudes and some other people there, requesting and (mostly) listening, but they kept choosing the quiet songs. Even though I had re-done the request list for the bar gig last week, with lots fewer kids' songs and lots more rock and roll.
(Except "Brown Eyed Girl". People kept requesting "Brown Eyed Girl". Which, fortunately, has few enough harmony changes that I can actually get through it with the bass drum line intact.)
I was playing "Puff, the Magic Dragon" for local guy Bob when a lady came right up next to me and started singing along. Of course, I do it in "my key", so singing with me was too low, and an octave up was too high, but she was game. She hung around and sang another few songs, though she refused the mic when I offered it -- just wanted to sing, not be heard. I don't know why I didn't think to ask her to sing the Girl Part of "Baby It's Cold Outside". Big chance and I blew it.
Anyway, I guess it was "lucky" that I got to practice a bit with the drum when almost nobody was around. Hopefully, by summer when the crowds show up, I'll have worked up the skill to play it properly.
So the recommendation I got from the Karaoke guy at last Friday's surreal after-gig encounter turned into an actual gig at a local wine bar called "Uncorked". I guess the owner, Romy, took him at his word that I knew my stuff. Her only concern was for me not to be too loud. I told her not to worry -- I have a volume knob that goes all the way down to zero.
And of course, a genteel 30-seat wine bar is more appropriate for my mellow style than the noisy beer bar that I played at last week. The only real problem was the layout -- it's a long rectangle, divided into two squares by a short wall down the middle. The front half is the store, and the back half is the wine bar. There's no room there to set up, so I was far away from the actual people, and had a tough time getting any interaction going.
Especially since Romy spilled water on the song lists she was passing out and so failed to deliver them to half the room. The people with lists did make some requests, but since I was so far away, they had to get up and come over to me instead of just shouting them out, so that dissuades them from doing it much.
But it went quite well anyway. The people and Romy seemed very pleased, and she immediately booked me for two more gigs there -- her next two open spots, next week and the end of February.
The tricky part of these kinds of gigs is that, since people tend to stay put for most of, if not all of, the evening, I feel like I can't play any given song more than once. Fortunately, I have over 350 songs in my book -- not all of which are equally ready to play in public, but certainly enough are to cover the three hours.
The place is close enough to home that my wife invited our neighbors to come out and see me. The ladies talked most of the time, but the husband seemed to be having a really great time, requesting several Beatle songs and repeatedly coming up to put money in the jar, even though I told him he didn't have to do that.
Anyway, it was pretty fun, though it would have been more fun if I could have gotten closer to the people, which I'll try to do next time. But a great start, and it's terrific to finally have something that looks like a regular (indoors!) gig.
As I was making my last trip to the car after the gig at Club 32, a lady who was outside smoking stopped me to say that she and her husband had really enjoyed the music, and that I ought to play at the Elks Club. The what, now?
But I'm game for anything that might at least make a good story, so I asked how do I do that, and she said that I should go by and talk to Andy, the Entertainment Director, or even just go over there Right Now and talk to Dan the Bar Manager. I don't even know what the Elks Club does, but I know where it is, and she said they have Entertainment on Saturday nights and I'd be perfect for it.
So, what did I have to lose? I drove over there and asked the bartender to speak to Dan. I told him that one of his members thought I'd be great to play there, and gave him a card, songlist, and CD. It was karaoke night, and Dan said that he'd like to hear me sing, but I told him that I'm better when I can play my own songs on my own guitar -- or he could just listen to the CD.
He kinda wanted to hear me then and there, so I realized that I could go get my guitar and the magic bag and plug into the karaoke system. We asked the karaoke guy if that was OK, and he said that that would work. He even told Dan, "I've heard this guy and he's great!" I said, "Really? Where did you hear me?" and he said, "Aw man, I thought you'd just roll with that!" I guess I missed the wink...
So I got my stuff and the karaoke guy, Roy, asked me to play "Ain't Too Proud to Beg", which, weirdly, I'd learned a month earlier. I thought he'd caught a glimpse of my List, but, nope, he just wanted/insisted on "Ain't Too Proud to Beg". Dan had implied that I'd only get one song, and I didn't really want it to be that one, but Roy said that he was in charge and I'd get more than one. We settled on letting me play my choice first, and Roy's request second.
So I got set up and Roy introduced me as "Keith" and some people in the audience (of 30 or so) said, "Keith Comer?!?" They knew me from Indian Princesses and were already on board.
So I started with "Over the Rainbow". The room was full of older, happy, friendly, (drunk?) people, and it went over big time. Then I was obliged to play "Ain't Too Proud to Beg", which also pretty much killed. (Look at the versatility on this guy!) I was thinking that this was the weirdest thing that had happened in a long time -- leaving one gig disappointed and going to the Elks Club for an impromptu "audition" in front of a karaoke audience.
And then it got even weirder.
An older guy came up to tell me and Roy that it was 11:00 and time for "the ritual". I'm like, uh oh.
The guy dragged everyone (including me) up from their tables and barstools to stand in a circle holding hands. A lady pushed a button that made eleven slow gongs sound, and then the old guy recited a litany of praise for absent Elks Club members, soldiers, and first responders. Then Roy dug up a karaoke track for "Auld Lang Syne" and we all sang that, still holding hands in the circle.
And for the next part of the ritual, Roy put on "God Bless America", and we all sang that, too. But then, just to make it even more surreal -- and I'm not making this up -- everyone started Rockette kicking to the song. Fortunately, we were all still holding hands, so the more tipsy ones of the group had some backup when they started to fall over. I wish I'd'a gotten some pictures, but I wasn't sure how this secret society would react, and besides, both my hands were being held by strangers.
Then we had a moment of silence for the soldiers, the circle broke up and everyone went back to their chairs, and it was time for me to sing another one as if nothing had happened!
So here I am, just another day at the office, glad it wasn't a "*blood* ritual", so I fire up "You Got a Friend" -- always a reliable number for drunk people. Everybody got into it, and a group of ladies in the back joined loudly in, hugging and swaying along.
After that, Dan said I was great, and he wanted to get me there for a real gig, my price was fine, but he'd have to talk to The Committee (and Andy), but that half of them were there tonight so it wouldn't be a problem. So now I'm waiting on their call, too.
But then, on my way out, Roy wanted to talk to me about "other stuff". He said I'd be perfect at a nearby wine bar, texted me the address, gave me his card, and told me to tell the owner that he recommended me, and she'd let me -- play? Audition? Unclear, but promising.
So all of that was wacky, out of the blue, and worth it. *Something* might just happen...
After my incredibly successful Open Mic audition for this place, I was really looking forward to my first Real Gig there. But, as always, it didn't go exactly as I pictured it...
To start with, I'd expected the first hour or so to be "Restaurant Time" -- quiet, with people eating and me playing soft music. But when I got there, it was already packed, both the restaurant and bar sides. And *noisy*. I suppose I could/should have taken the hint that it was already "Bar Time", but I'd been told to play quiet stuff for dinnertime, then go to rowdier stuff "later" (whenever that was).
The place is a weird shape -- long skinny "restaurant side" to the right, bar in front of me, and another square bar-room to the left. So I pointed one speaker toward the restaurant side and one toward the bar side, and started up. The bartender told me to turn *up* a little, so that was a good sign. I couldn't really hear myself even then, but I played on.
I couldn't see most of the restaurant side, but some ladies in the bar-room started clapping enthusiastically, and after a few songs one of them came over with a twenty for the jar! Since no one was really positioned to shout any requests at me, I hadn't passed out the newly-rowdy-song-enhanced Song Lists, but I felt like these ladies deserved to make a request, so I walked over there to hand them a List.
That snowballed a bit, and I ended up taking several requests from that room, almost all "mellow songs". I had feared this eventuality -- the management would want me to play Rowdy but the actual customers would want Mellow, and that's pretty much what happened. I was hoping that the owner would notice the happy people and realize that my approach was working, but how often has The Boss been perceptive and "get it" when I didn't do exactly what he said? I shoulda known better...
So, apparently he wanted it to go Full Rowdy at 10:00, but instead of asking me to do that and letting me at least try (especially since I'd spent the week learning and practicing lots of uptempo stuff), he decided to send me home and put on the house music instead. Ouch.
He insisted that I was "really talented" and that the restaurant side could hear it really well and loved it, and that he'd have me back sometime, starting earlier, to play a dinnertime set -- but he may have just been "softening the blow". I guess we'll see.
But this may well have been a "be careful what you wish for" thing. I honestly think I can pull off "Sweet Caroline", "867-5309", "Don't Stop Believing" etc. as well as anyone, but pumping music into a loud unresponsive room wasn't really much fun anyway. I'm probably better off playing quieter stuff into a quieter room (if they ever actually call me back, or somewhere else for that matter).
But the extra disappointing part was that I'd stumbled on an electronic bass drum at the Goodwill store and been practicing for two days solid to be able to add that to the mix. It *really* helps make the rock songs sound right, but I'd only gotten to play it for 3 or 4 songs before he shut me down. And it was working -- I saw several people rocking to the beat as I played it for my last song, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", which sounded *amazing* (and I'd learned special just for this gig -- the owner is Irish).
Ah, well. Best laid plans... It'll sound great down in Laguna, too, where the people who want to listen stick around, and those who don't, keep walking.
So it was kinda fun, and I'd do it again, but overall disappointing just 'cuz I they didn't give me a chance to do what I was going to try to do -- step up my "bar game". Oh well.
But the weirdest part was what happened right afterward, but I suppose that's a story for the next post...
Terrific night of Christmas Cheer in Naples! When I got there, there was a little acoustic combo setting up near the spot that I always use, which was unusable anyway because of a big puddle of water from the rain the night before. So I went looking for an alternate location, and immediately came to a driveway/alley next to the brown-glass cube house. Since it's all glass I felt a bit safe that either the people weren't home, or were hiding in the back away from the tourists' eyes, and, hopefully, from being annoyed by the noise I was about to make.
It turned out to be a much better place than my usual spot because I could stand back out of the traffic flow, there was room for some kids to join me "on stage", there was a bright street light, I was facing (and playing towards) the canal and the passing tour boats, and across from the sidewalk was a wooden deck with a long bench for an audience.
And I did assemble quite a few pretty big audiences. Early on, it was families with kids who came up to shake the jingle sticks. Toward the end, I had dating couples who just needed an excuse to sit and cuddle. Either way is fine with me.
I had one older lady stop and listen for a while. She said that I sounded like Willie Nelson, and did I get that a lot? I said, no, it's usually James Taylor, but since I've been singing so much, I'd gotten a bit of a blown-out rasp that might be Willie-like. She asked if I knew that Christmas song by the Carpenters, which is one of my favorites but I seldom get to play it because it's one of "the slow schmaltzy ones". Afterwards, she admitted that she didn't have any money on her, but as a tip alternative, she wanted to "give me a cheek", and she came over so we could bump cheeks. More sanitary than a kiss, I guess.
About 10, it settled into adults, mostly college kids, just sitting and listening, so I finally got to shift from the Rudolph/Frosty/Jingle Bells cycle into the schmaltzy ones. To my surprise, nobody got bored by them and got up to leave. When I ran through all of those, I switched to some non-Christmas songs, "You've Got a Friend" and "Hallelujah", to which one girl was boldly singing along, so I recruited her to come up and sing the Girl Part for "Baby It's Cold Outside".
But as I was getting out the second mic for her, the guy in the white house came out and said, "I don't want to be a scrooge, but it's 20 till 11, and I gotta go to work in the morning". I quickly agreed to shut down after this one last song. Rachael did mostly OK, but didn't really get the inner portions of the song and kept jumping the gun on her lines. I tried to jump the guitar part to keep up with where she was, but that tended to truncate the middle of my vocal lines, causing much confusion. Really great try, though, and fun anyway.
As I was tearing down, several groups of people came by and stopped expectantly, and I had to tell them that I was done because the guy wanted to get some sleep. I had some battery life left, and clearly a lot of remaining interest, so I guess I could have moved back down by the park (the combo was surely gone by then) but my voice was pretty shot, and I had a (paying) gig the next night, so I went on home.
Gotta love Christmas time -- people are lots more friendly and less guarded, the tunes are all culturally shared, and the tips really flow. A couple of nights like that one would pay for my whole Christmas list.
This was my eighth year playing for the families waiting in line to see Santa and Mrs. Claus at the city of Mission Viejo's elaborate Santa's Workshop. There are nine nights, and I play eight of them, only 'cuz one overlaps with their own Holly Jolly Lights Tour party that I also play.
I'm set up such that the kids can come over since they're "contained" by the picket fence behind me and the queue itself -- the parents (or one parent) can stay in line and call the kids back to the line when they get close to Santa. The idea is to give the hyped-up kids some distraction when the line to see Santa can get up to two hours long. And it works out really well, except...
Sometimes the coordinator allows some local group to come play. The first Wednesday was a tiny tots dance school -- very cute, but you could only hear the boom box, not the kids, and only then if you weren't in line, since they'd set up on the grass to "play to" the moms, grammas, etc. and not the general public. Not sure why they needed to do it here, except I guess it was a nice setting for Dad's pictures.
The second Wednesday was a middle school caroling group -- not bad, but inaudible, even though I tried to get them to set up nearer the line. It's not so much that the line *needs* them, but when nobody can hear you so they ignore you, it's demoralizing for the singers. Lose-lose. And same with the third group, a small group of girls who sang inaudibly a capella for a while, and then lip synched (or sang along, I guess) with a kids choir record on a boom box.
Anyway, when it was my turn, I had fun, like always. I love playing for kids. And most of them are all dressed up for the Santa pictures, so it's very cute. I brought my "jingle sticks", and this year realized that, to keep the wall of noise created by them more manageable, just put fewer out there. Duh. Not to mention that it's easier to keep track of them so they don't walk away as often. I do still have to take them away from kids (always boys) who have decided to see how hard you have to bang the stick against the table to break it, or start to use them as a weapon. Still, overall, the kids that enjoy playing with them outweigh the hassle.
Of course, filling two or three hours with the 7 or 8 kids' Christmas songs gets a bit repetitive, so I branch out a little by playing "Do You Want To Build a Snowman" from "Frozen". It's got "snowman" in it, don't it? Of course, once I've done that one, they all suss out that I probably know "Let It Go", so then we do that one. And I sometimes throw in "Over the Rainbow".
And then usually, when the line gets short at the end of the evening, I can start up some of the crooning old-school ones -- they're so much fun to sing. Reckon I'll be back next year...
I figured it would take me two hours just to get there, on a Friday just before Christmas, driving past South Coast Plaza, but if you're not there really early, there's no place to park. So I left at 3:30 and got there at 5:30. Of course, nobody else was there so I had to stall a while before setting up. Good thing, too, 'cuz the batteries weren't fully charged and I only got to play for two hours -- shut down just as it was getting good. Oh well.
It was pretty slow at first, and without sufficient traffic, it's hard to get anyone to stop. But I did get some families to stop long enough for their kids to shake some tambourine sticks to "Jingle Bells". And a girl came right up and asked if she could get a picture with me, so after that I asked her if she wanted to sing a song, too. Her friend suggested "Silent Night", which I remembered as a Big Hit last year, so I fired it up.
A group of four middle-aged ladies with matching light-up halos on was sitting nearby, listening and singing along. They wanted "Joy to the World" next, but since I don't know it, I admitted that I do know "Oh Holy Night", so I had to do that one. Unfortunately, the bombastic high notes at the end coupled with the increased signal when the harmony box is on proved to be too much for the batteries to cope with, and it started doing that cutting out thing that it does when it's about finished.
And just as I was about to ask if one of the Halo Ladies would step up for the Girl Part of "Baby It's Cold Outside". Drat.
But, even with only two hours, and too early of ones at that, I did really well tips-wise, and had fun. I'll have to go back with fuller batteries next week, if the weather cooperates.
A guy who runs the "senior club" saw me playing for the Senior Daycare, and asked me to come play for the Club's Christmas lunch/party. I think he meant for me to play after they were done eating, but for some reason the ham was an hour late, so I ended up playing while they were eating.
Which was pretty awkward, 'cuz it made me into background music underneath their lunch conversations instead of a concert, but I guess I'm getting used to that, and I got paid either way.
When they were done eating, though, the guy got up and made everybody stand up and sing along to "Jingle Bells", but nobody knew the second ("Miss Fanny Bright") verse. Then they wanted to do "Silent Night", but nobody knew its second verse, either. They did better with "I'll Be Home for Christmas".
Afterwards, a bunch of nice grammas came up to tell me how much they enjoyed it, and several of them took my cards, so maybe that'll turn into yet more gigs for old folks.
"It was late in the evening, and I blew that room away!"
-- Paul Simon, "Late In The Evening", 1980
Pub Thirty Two is a pretty nice bar and restaurant just three miles from my house in Mission Viejo. We noticed that they have live music on Fridays and Saturdays, and stopped in to find out how to get booked, and they told us that you come for the monthly Open Mic, and if they like you...
I'd had a bad cold for the last three days, but decided to go anyway, if only to see what the format of the Open Mic was, how many people came, equipment setup, etc., but I threw my guitar in the van, just in case -- better to have it and not need it than vice versa.
When I got there, I just hung around outside, 'cuz I could see whoever was playing through the window, and hear through the door. A kid was strumming through "Wagon Wheel", with occasional tuneless harmonica breaks. Let's just say he was sincere, and everybody has to start someplace. He did a couple more songs, and they spent way too long resetting up the equipment so an old guy could get up and hack through "Ring of Fire". I guess his courage was admirable just to get up there, especially considering how terrible he was.
He did another song, and then Wagon Wheel got back up, and I decided that, if this was the quality of the "talent" for the night, even my cold-ravaged voice would suffice. And it looked like there was nobody else waiting -- which is what I was kind of expecting, at an Open Mic in sleepy Mission Viejo. On a Thursday. In December.
So I finally went in and asked if there was a sign-up sheet, and they said, "Oh, you want to play?" Turned out that Wagon Wheel was running the event, which is why he went back on after Ring of Fire -- there was nobody else there. So he did a couple of songs, and announced that a "new singer" was coming up.
I brought out my Magic Bag, which simplifies the setup since it's battery-powered and pre-wired with the harmony box and the wireless receivers, so I just need one connection to the house amp, and my balance, tone, and reverb is controlled by me, not whoever's pretending to be a sound man. As I was getting the wireless rigs in place on my head and guitar, I looked over at Ring of Fire and his friends, glaring at me like I was Big Jim Walker pulling out his two-piece custom-made pool cue. Suddenly I had something to prove -- a guy with all this fancy equipment better Bring Something...
I started with "You've Got a Friend". I was nervous in a new place with weird sound, but I got through it. And the place went nuts. Sound Guy and his wife (about my age) were going berserk, but even twenty-something Wagon Wheel and his girlfriend were hooting and hollering (probably because I'd just "saved" his Open Mic). The rest of the bar was applauding as if JT himself had walked in to play a song. When it finally died down, I looked at Sound Guy and Wagon Wheel and said, "So... Play another one, shall I?"
Of course, they let me play another one, and for the rest of the night, since there was nobody else on the List, and Wagon Wheel wasn't about to try to go on again after me. I guess I played from about 9:30 until 11:30 when Sound Guy decided he needed to get his wife and equipment home.
As I was packing up, the manager came by and said, "When you get done packing, let's chat". And he booked me for a paying gig, the next open Friday (January 8th), right then and there.
His only concern was a little hard to decipher in all the restaurant-ese, but I'm pretty sure that the gist was that he considers the evening divided into two phases, Dinner, and Bar Time. He thinks I'm perfect for Dinner phase, but wonders if I can get more rowdy for Bar phase. (Which is why he booked me for a Friday -- Fridays are More Dinner, and Saturdays are More Bar.) But I do have lots of more uptempo stuff, I just need to get past thinking that it's "too easy", and that it sounds dumb for a guy with an acoustic guitar (i.e., no drums nor bass) to play rock and roll. But if guys that are way less skilled than I am can do it with a straight face, I should be able to, too.
So, it was like a movie: Struggling musician can't get a break, plays the Open Mic/Audition and "blows the room away", finally gets booked (and lives happily ever after?). But as I was lying in bed too excited to sleep, it occurred to me that I've put in at *least* as much time on this stuff as it takes to get a four-year degree, and I should certainly be hire-able by now.
And as icing, a guy and his wife/girlfriend were at the bar, and she, at least, seemed very impressed with my stuff. As they were leaving, he dropped a twenty and his business card on the barstool next to me. He's the President/CEO of "Peppino's" restaurants -- there are three, all nearby, and they have live music. I guess I'll send him an email and see if he meant to imply any kind of offer...
My friend in the Laguna Beach Historical Society asked me to come play for their "Hospitality Night". I figured it was yet another euphemism for "Christmas Party", and I'd be playing for the members, just like the lawyer party I'd be playing that same afternoon.
Turned out, "Hospitality Night" is a city-wide block party, where everyone turns out to see Santa light up the historic Pepper Tree at City Hall, and they block off Forest (which is essentially Laguna's "Main Street") and party all night.
The Historical Society is in an old house one street over from Forest, and they wanted me to play out on the covered porch to try to bring people in. And it worked! The porch acted like a stage, and lots of people walking by stopped to hear me play, saw me up there, and ended up going on in to have a look at the historical stuff inside.
It was really quite nice to have a raised, well lit, and heated! Place to play, and the street is much more quiet than my usual spot on The Corner so the sound was quite good. There were a few chairs on the porch and lots of people took the time to sit and listen for a while.
The weirdest part was when a long-haired and wild-eyed guy and his girlfriend approached me from across the street while I was playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". They waited for the end of the song, told me how great it was, and that they had a proposal. I was leery of what that might be, but it turned out that the girlfriend had made a Christmas video for her family back east, and they had unsuccessfully scoured the internet for background music. They wanted to buy a CD, and use my song. Sure, OK with me, and really, how would I know or stop them anyway, even if I wanted to? The guy promised to send me a copy of the final video, but of course, he hasn't...
People kept telling me that I ought to be playing over on Forest where the real party was going on, but I felt like I should play where I had been asked to (and paid to) play, and besides, it was going so well. But finally, a little after 8:00, the foot traffic had all but died on Ocean, so I packed up to go see what was happening on Forest.
And it was a madhouse! People wall-to-wall filling the street, loud music from the rooftop parties, and a big stage set up right in the middle of the street. I set up next to the green swirly thing where the crowds started to thin a bit, and unsuccessfully tried to compete with the rock band on the stage. But after four songs, it was clearly not going to happen, and I was nearly out of battery, so I packed up and came home.
I was told that the Tommies were on The Corner, Sanchez was across from them, and another guy was in the Corridor, but it's hard to imagine that any of them could play against the rock band. I'm guessing that they were there earlier, and had to quit once the rock started up. Might be worth trying that myself, next year.
I guess they liked me last year, so they had me back again to play at the Orange County Bar Association holiday party. I forgot my Christmas tie, but luckily had my hat out in the car -- I figured it was too silly for a lawyer party, but the lady who hires me for these asked about it and wanted me to wear it, so I did.
The party itself went about the same as last year -- they're all there to socialize, after all, so I play and they talk and ignore me for the most part. Occasionally someone nice comes over to apologize that they don't appear to be listening, but they really do appreciate the music, and I'm pretty sure that's essentially true. And I did get paid.
This time I decided to put my tip jar out, albeit subtly on the ground in front of the speaker, and the lawyers again proved to be terrible tippers -- I made seven dollars. But I also put some cards out and several of them disappeared, so maybe something will come of that.
Not too bad, for November. Sparsely attended, of course, but some really nice people came by.
Right at the beginning, two ladies showed up, separately. One was a nice older lady who listened for a few songs and then came up to put a buck in the jar but also to give me "a gift" of her handmade soaps. The other was Wendy, a sometimes-sweet but more-often-drunk burnt-out hippie lifetime Laguna street person.
I was nearly overcome with the scent of eucalyptus and fennel, and presumed that Wendy had somehow come across a bottle of scented oil and had bathed in it. People were avoiding her, since she was drunk and even more disheveled than usual, but it turned out that, of her faults, the stifling aroma wasn't one of them -- it was the soap sitting on the trashcan/merch table beside me. Sorry Wendy, I misjudged you. Though only a little...
But before all that, just as I arrived a guy came by and astutely figured out that I was going to play some music. He asked what kind of stuff I play, and I told him, and he said that he liked that kind of music, and took off from there, literally never stopping talking for the 20 or so minutes it took me to set up. It was really quite amazing -- once I realized that his marble collection was incomplete, and since I couldn't hear or decode half of what he was saying, I stopped responding in any way, but he managed to ramble on, and on, and on. I'm pretty sure it was some kind of Tourette Syndrome deal.
Fortunately, he finally got bored watching me set up and wandered into the ice cream shop, where the girl behind the counter managed to offend him sufficiently to get him yelling at her, but eventually stopping away, flinging curses back at her. I'll have to remember to thank her someday, 'cuz it was gonna be hard to play against his continuous commentary...
But other than those two, everyone else was great. Some kids came by and requested "Pure Imagination" from (the original) "Willy Wonka", and an older lady stopped to gush over how great that was. One nice lady stopped and listened until her husband and kids showed up, and then came back after they'd had their dinner.
Earlier in the week I'd practiced playing some of my rock and roll dance tunes with my iPhone drum machine app, and I'd clocked the actual beats per minute of the original recordings. I pulled several of them out when it was getting late and empty, and virtually all of them seem *way* too slow at the "right" speed. What does that say about my rock and roll sensibilities?
And around midnight, when it was nearly deserted, some high school boys came by and asked if I knew any Justin Bieber. Probably as a joke -- but I did learn his most famous song ("Baby") to play for the teenies that prowl at Spectrum back in 2010, so I busted it out. They freaked out and started dancing and jumping around, and suddenly there were a half-dozen girls there too, dancing to what qualifies as a "classic" for them. Instant party -- but it disappeared just as quickly when the song was over. Oh well.
And just before we quit, the guy who works at Disney showed up. A month ago he had taken my CD and kids' song list and card to try to get me in at Downtown Disney, and I had all but given up on him. But he did deliver the stuff and his enthusiastic recommendation to the Booking Director -- he just hadn't heard anything back. So that's probably dead in the water, but I have the Booking guy's name now, so I might be able to pursue it -- but probably not until after the holidays.
The people who work at this "Senior Daycare" program assure me that nobody remembers my last visit or that they've already heard me play those songs. I guess it's specifically a program for memory-issue people, so that's probably true for many of them.
But I can tell it's not true for all of them, so I tried to do some different songs this time. In particular, I made myself do "Since I Fell For You", which is a real screamer, so I have to really put it out there. But several of them were falling asleep (it's just after lunch, and most of my stuff is pretty mellow, so, understandable), so I knocked it out to try and liven the place up a bit. And it may have worked, too.
But I also did the ones they like to sing along to, "Georgia On My Mind" and "South of the Border", and couldn't resist doing "Cool Water", just 'cuz it's from 1948 so even the oldest ones there should know it, and it sounds *so* cool with the harmony box.
