I meant to get down there at 3:00, but at the last minute I realized that I'd had trouble the week before seeing the iPad music book in the bright sun, so I sat down to make a paper copy and burned an hour (and a bunch of paper and ink) before I realized that I'd already done that a year ago. Idiot.
So I got there at 4:00 again, and there were plenty of people to play for, but only for a while. By 6:00 it was pretty empty, except for one guy who sat and listened and played with his phone while I kept playing just because it's so silent and nice down there.
Two little girls (and their dad) came by and surprised me by choosing "Part of Your World" (from "The Little Mermaid") instead of "Let It Go". Maybe "Frozen Fever" is finally wearing off.
So, I wish I'd'a gotten there sooner, but it was a useful exercise to get more comfortable with the spot, to play there and not get hassled by the restaurant guy, and to learn that, yes, earlier is better. Maybe much earlier. Noon-4? 10-2? We'll test that out next weekend.
Last week got cancelled due to a busted bathroom (apparently working bathrooms are a legal requirement -- who knew?), but I agreed to swap with "the other performer" to get to play this week (and stealthily took the opportunity to request another "make up night"). It was already pretty full when I got there, but it was hard to "break in" to the many conversations already in progress. So most of the night was pretty low-interaction, though I coerced a few requests from some of the groups.
Frequent guest star Heather was there, and came up to sing "Landslide" and later on "You've Got a Friend", though I'd already done it several times. (Once, in fact, for a group of younger people who asked for "You've Got a Friend" and when it was over, called out "...Friend In Me", the completely different theme song from "Toy Story". Another tiny lesson in linguistic accuracy, kids.)
And somebody yelled out "Purple Rain!", which got seconded by a lot of others and gave me the opportunity to play my arrangement of "When Doves Cry" that segues into the first verse and a few choruses of "Purple Rain". Glad I didn't learn that for nothing...
Toward the end, a group came in that really made the night worthwhile -- requesting songs one after another. But it was already pretty late, so that didn't last long.
Unfortunately, all night I was under the impression that the "make up night" was next week, but when I was about to leave and said, "OK, see you next week!", the owner cleared up my misconception. Too bad she didn't hear me telling it to customers, over and over all night, and fix my error sooner. I hope the "other performer" appreciates the audience I mistakenly drummed up for him for next week.
I'm now playing at the Senior Daycare twice a month, and it goes about the same every time. I guess this time I decided that the seniors (and certainly the staff) wouldn't mind if I played a few songs that they haven't heard a dozen times already, so I did "City of New Orleans" and "Blackbird", and "Under the Boardwalk" in addition the ones that I always do.
And they went over just as well as the older songs that I play, hoping this audience will know them. I can't tell the difference in the reaction for a song they'd theoretically know, and one that they certainly don't, so I guess it really doesn't matter. No "Purple Rain", though -- that's probably a bit too far...
More than a year ago, I first played by the harbor in Dana Point, and got chased off by the janitor for the use of an amplifier and lack of Permit. I tried to get such a permit, but it required a million dollar insurance policy, and the Permit process was designed for one-time events (weddings, birthdays) and not for "anytime" buskers, so it was seemingly impossible to shoehorn my Intent into their Process. I gave up.
A year later, since Laguna is as difficult to manage (with competition from other bands, drunken bums, etc.) as it is fun to play at, I decided that I really needed a Plan B, so I tried again -- this time with help from my brother and his negotiation and red-tape cutting skills. And after only (?) two months of fighting with the OC Parks Dept. and the Harbor Master's office, and almost $300 for the insurance and fees, I got my Permit to play down there.
And it looks like it's gonna be worth it! Lots of friendly, target-audience-aged, (and rich!) people (many of them with fancy dogs) to play for. Way different than Laguna -- no drunks, no origami palm-frond scam artists, and basically no competition (since it's nearly impossible to get "certified" to play down there). Less foot traffic though, and no Woo-Girls, partiers, or "local color".
Way different timeframe, too. I got there about 4:00 and the patio tables were nearly full, but by 6:30 it was a ghost town. This was a Sunday, so, work night, so maybe Saturday will be a little better, but still -- no bars or galleries means that it's more of a "walk (or jog) for the scenery" kind of place, and less of the "Let's party after dinner" kind.
But! Dead silence. Wonderful quiet to play into. It's so nice to be able to hear myself -- every nuance of the vocal and guitar is audible, which makes it so much easier to really "put it out there". Heaven.
And lots of nice people, who don't normally get live music, especially from their generation, down there, so very appreciative. But they were kind of far away, at the patio tables of the ice cream/coffee shop, so I'd walk out and hand them the song lists, and then people would bring them back with their requests and something for the jar. An inadvertent, but clever, trick. (And somebody gave me two crisp new sequential two-dollar bills. What's up with *that*?)
The only sour note was when a guy came up and asked me to turn it down because I was "disturbing the customers at [his] restaurant" and "interfering with his music" (the radio). He tried to talk me into moving down to the promenade to the south, where he all but said that I could turn it up as loud as I wanted to, but I stood my ground (I have a Permit!), and said that right here was "better for me", but I'd be happy to turn it down (and did). He said that "it wasn't better for [him]", not really under his breath as he walked away. I hope this doesn't turn into a problem...
A guy came up with a fiver and asked if I played "private events" and if I had any cards. I gave him one and he said, "You'll be hearing from me! I'm just down there in that boat", indicating the boat, three out from the seawall, where some people had been hanging out all afternoon. I had been paranoid that I was disturbing them (one of the Conditions of my Permit is that I don't point the amp towards the boats), but apparently they were out listening, not being annoyed. Whew!
A family with tiny kids came by, so I played "Twinkle, Twinkle", and the eldest (maybe 3) seemed to recognize it somewhat. Afterwards, they walked on by, but came back in a while, and the mom put some money in the jar and said, "Thanks for playing 'A-B-C-D' for us! Can you play it again?" I said, "Sure!", though I had actually played "Twinkle", which, of course, has the same tune. So I played it "again", but sang the "A-B-C-D" lyrics. Or tried to -- I got most of the way through it, but I guess singing letters messed up my ability to remember the chords ('cuz they're "letters", too?), and I screwed up the guitar part pretty badly. Embarrassing.
A couple came up and put some money in the jar, thanked me for the "our generation" music, and asked if I played there often, and would I be back next weekend. I said that this was my first time, but that I'd definitely be back, since it seemed to be going well, and nobody'd chased me away yet. The guy thought I was joking and laughed, but I was thinking of my janitor buddy...
That's more like it! The threat of rain didn't seem to keep the people away, and we had a great night, finally, after a pretty lonely winter, especially as it got later and the Party Kids came out. Not a lot of summer tourists yet, but lots of locals out.
A really nice lady sat on the side bench right at the beginning, and stayed a very long time -- practically the whole night. Her son came along and they went away to presumably have dinner, but then they were back, listening and requesting until probably 11:00. Around 9, some other guy came along and joined them too, and he apparently counted the crowd hanging around in The Corner, and went into the ice cream store and bought "a round" -- about a dozen random-flavored cups of ice cream -- and passed them around to us and everyone there! Found homes for *almost* all of 'em, too (see below).
There were lots of other older (i.e., Target Market) couples and families too, and they kept me busy most of the night. I even sold four CDs, and gave away a fingerlight to a little boy from London.
I learned "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes" from "Cinderella" over the previous week, and revised the "Kids' Menu" list to show that and "Someone to Lava". I was surprised when a little girl chose Cinderella as her second request (Elsa (i.e., "Let It Go") was her first, of course (I love how little kids i.d. songs by their characters)), and more surprised that the assembled crowd didn't disperse when I sang it. Usually those slow weepy ones remind people of the dog needing out back home or some such...
Some lady wanted "modern country" a couple of weeks earlier at the wine bar, so I looked up Blake Shelton's greatest hits and learned "Who Are You When I'm Not Looking". I played it late in the night when nobody was there, just to run through it, and unexpectedly collected two "drive-by" tips. People know that guy/song? I guess I really am way out of touch.
Three high school girls came by and totally got into dancing and singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and "Hey There, Delilah". The rest of their gang showed up and joined in for a while, but they apparently had someplace else to be...
Around 10:30, a whole herd of Party People came through just as I was playing "Wagon Wheel". It caught a few of them up, and that tipped the whole group over into a Flash Party, which I kept going by extending the song into several extra singalong choruses. I followed that up with "Margaritaville" and we had some big fun there for a while.
One pretty drunk and awfully pretty girl was clearly baffled and unused to not getting whatever she wanted, but I wouldn't let her play my guitar anyway. Sorry sweetheart, I'm immune to your Hottie Mind Tricks.
An older lady (you know, my age) came along late in the evening and kept exclaiming how great we sounded, and joined in with the Party Kids' flash party, and hung around a long time. Finally she came up and told me she wanted to hire me to play her annual Fourth of July party, and took a card, promising to email me her address so I could come by the next morning to "check out the site" and seal the booking. The email never came, of course, but maybe she'll call before July. Or not.
The threatened rain finally arrived around midnight, but we were still having fun so I just wiped off my iPad screen and kept going until I was starting to detect an electric buzzing through my fingers on the bass string. So I cut the requested "Your Song" short and packed up, fast, as the rain got worse and started ruining my stuff, but before it shorted out any electronics.
One last lady had dropped a buck in the jar as she went past, and didn't notice that she had tipped it over and right into the trash can. I had to dig the jar and a lot of spilled money out, and a bunch of it had landed in an uneaten cup of, naturally, chocolate ice cream that our earlier benefactor hadn't been able to give away. I wiped it off as best I could with rain-soaked napkins, stuffed it back in the jar, and cleaned the rest up when I got home.
So, big fun and eventful night. And all things considered, I'd much rather be chased home by a light rain than a belligerent drunk, any day.
Wow -- big night! Unlike previous weeks, the place was jumping even before I got there, and was Loud all night long. That was helped along by the mini reunion put together by my wife and her three best friends (and spouses) from high school. It's a good thing I had reserved them a table!
Anyway, pretty fun, but a bit tough to play in because it was nearly as rowdy as a "regular" bar. But I just kinda of favored my louder kinds of songs and went with it.
Plenty of requests, but frequently with my favorite dysfunction: Somebody requests a song and two songs after I've played it, they request it again, 'cuz they didn't notice I already played it. Or somebody will request a song that I just played, 'cuz they didn't really hear it but it registered in their brain somewhere. I just have to keep reminding myself: Wine bar.
The owner dragged another one of her regular karaoke friends up to sing a song, and he chose "Tiny Dancer" (after flirting with "Wild Horses"). He was decent, but dragged the tempo. Am I playing it too fast?
And frequent guest singer Heather was there again, but this time she chose "Landslide" and did a bang up job. I'm not sure I want to turn into a karaoke machine, but it makes the owner happy to have her friends get to sing, so I'm in. In moderation...
Another of my now twice-a-month gigs for the old folks. I tried to play some different songs, and learned "Crazy" by Patsy Kline (written by Willie Nelson) just for this place, since they seem to really like my other (to them) Patsy Kline song, "South of the Border".
And this time I brought the ukulele, just to mix it up some. I played "Ain't Misbehavin'" and "Five Foot Two" on it, to great response. These folks remember ukulele music from back before Tiny Tim made it impossible to be seen with one in public. Fortunately, that stigma has finally worn off.
Since this is a "memory issues" daycare, some of the people exhibit some strange behavior. One or another of them will frequently just get up and walk away, and one of the workers there will leap up and follow them out to see what they're up to, if anything, and bring them back. It reminds me of a litter of puppies on the kitchen floor -- you have to keep rounding them up.
This time one lady got up six or seven times, heading straight for the door. The worker would bring her back and sit with her, but pretty soon she was up again. One time she was clever enough to wait until some other person wandered off so the worker was already occupied, so some of the lesser-impaired people made sure to keep an eye on her so she wouldn't get too far. And here's me, just singing along like nothing's happening. Maybe she just can't stand James Taylor...
The guy from Tennessee who's been there visiting his sister for the last few gigs was there again one last time. After the last song he jumped up for a one-man standing ovation, and then he came up to slip me forty bucks and say, "Git yeself a nice dinner someplace", and some other nice things. It's nice to have a fan.
I got a text from the owner asking me if I was available since the guy who was supposed to be there this Friday "might" be too sick. I said yes, and she just decided to tell the other guy not to come.
(A) It's nice that I'm the guy she calls to fill in, and (B) it's nice that she's willing to just outright cancel the other guy in favor of me (well, not so nice for him...). The other employees there also make it pretty clear that I'm the best act they've got, and although that's a microscopic pond, it's flattering to be the best fish in it.
I guess people are getting used to the time change by now, 'cuz there were people already there when I got there this time. And the "song lists on the tables, request something" thing caught on pretty well, with people noticing other people doing it, so they did it too. And the owner and bar guy were bringing requests over from the people at the bar, who feel too far away to shout one out to me. Not sure why they bring a physical list over and point at a song on it instead of, you know, just saying it, but whatever.
There was an older couple at the closest table, and the guy wanted to request some songs, but he couldn't remember any songs from their titles. So he kept asking me "What's 'Peace Train'?" and "What's 'Watching the Detectives'?", etc., apparently going for songs strictly by the curiousness of their titles. I usually get that kind of behavior from little kids who want "the song about the lollipops" just because it's about lollipops. Strange.
I usually give new songs a Real World tryout down at The Corner in Laguna 'cuz it's less formal, but I took a chance on the song I'd learned two days earlier, Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman". It's a decidedly "written on a piano" song with chords that you don't much encounter on guitar, but I worked out a way I can manage it, and it worked pretty well.
Anyway, it was a really good night. Usually the owner and bar guy are occupied chatting up "regulars" at the bar and ignore me, but this week they both spent a lot of time just staring at me, listening. That felt good.
Some schools take Spring Break the week before Easter and some take the week after, so this weekend was perfect timing to get both groups. And the weather finally cooperated -- it got a little chilly after sunset, but not so cold as to send unprepared people (or Woo Girls in micro-dresses) home. We started an hour earlier than usual, at 6:00, to be sure to capture The Corner against the growing competition, and catch some of the earlier beach-going groups. Which worked quite well on both counts.
We did pretty well, as did the ice cream shop. And there were families with kids to play for, which is always fun. We had one kid, mom, and gramma come by, and I gave the Kid's List to the little girl but her mom said, "She doesn't know any of these songs!" I said, "She hasn't seen any Disney movies?!? Where are you from? [Implied: What barbaric, joyless, totalitarian regime did you escape from?]" Answer: "England!" Me: Huh? (But it did explain the Mary Poppins accents.)
So they took a look at the grownup list instead and settled for "Imagine" for the little girl, followed, incongruously, by "Tainted Love" for the mom.
Later on I was playing "Wild World" when a couple came through and kept on walking, even though the wife was singing loudly along. The song ended as they got across the street, and she yelled, "Father and Son!", and I said, "Come on back and I'll play it!", so they did, and I did. Sometimes it pays off to have 350+ songs in The Book.
Two ladies came by with a 18-20 year-old daughter. They asked for something and I played it, but then were reticent (or unprepared) when I asked if they had another request. So I said, "Come on, just admit it, you want "Hey There, Delilah" (since that's what nine out of ten 20-somethings end up asking for). They looked amazed and embarrassed to admit that, yes, that's exactly what they were too shy to ask for...
I used the new drum pedal a bit, but it was having a weird effect on the vocal. I think it was causing a brief overdrive condition in the amp, which made the vocal seem to drop out every time I'd hit the drum. But only on some songs, inexplicably. I'll have to experiment more.
Not too much interference from the bums this time. Willie was there, but not too drunk, so a bit more cooperative. But around 11:00 "Big Jim" showed up. He's usually not too bad, and has that oddly very common creepy homeless guy defense mechanism of being effusively complimentary to stave off people chasing him away.
But he was drunk (surprise!) and decided that I was there last week (which I wasn't) and played "Heart of Gold" (which I don't), and insisted that I play it again (which I can't). I did play "Old Man" for him as an alternative, which he appreciated, but he wouldn't shut up about "Heart of Gold", and started to get belligerent about it, and how I was lying about not knowing it.
I took a break and went off to the side, trying to at least clear my throat of the evening's way-too-much cigarette smoke that he was contributing to, but although Warren tried to reason with him, after a while it looked like he wasn't going to give up -- so we did. It was 11:30 and traffic was nearly gone anyway.
With the end of Daylight Savings Time, it was a little weird to show up for the gig in broad daylight. And apparently the wine drinkers of the world found it weird to be starting "so (apparently) early" as well, 'cuz nobody was there when I got there. I set up and was ready to play at 7:00, but at the owner's insistence, just waited around until the customers started to show. I had fun anyway, just figuring out the chords and playing along to the 80's Rock radio station they had on.
Eventually the place filled up and we had a nice night -- most everybody requested several songs. Oddly, one guy has a friend who's got free tickets to see a band at The Coach House next week, and he decided that I'm just the guy to give them to. He showed me videos of the band in action, and I'm in -- kind of neo-funky-folkie stuff. Guitar, bass, banjo, and washboard.
And a reappearance of Heather, my new guest singer. She wanted to take a crack at "You've Got a Friend" again, singing Carole King's version on top of my James Taylor guitar arrangement. But it worked mostly fine, and she's a sweetie.
Still loving the new amp -- much faster setup and teardown, only one trip to/from the car, really nice sound, no monitor needed, and no guitar feedback. Yay!
Pretty cold still, but people are starting to show up. Even had some little kids out, so I could give away some fingerlights. And finally some people who were just "out", not just "on the way to the next bar", so I was able to capture their attention for a while.
When I got there, there were some kids screwing around, singing and dancing with a burger-n-fries plastic basket on the ground to collect presumed tips, of which there were none. I didn't interfere, figuring they'd tire of it soon enough. A family came by that seemed to know them and helped with a pretty serviceable acapella "Summer Nights" (I'm guessing the high school put "Grease" on this year), and afterward the mom produced enough cash to let them decide that they were a success, and done.
I had taken the afternoon to knock together a scrap wood third iteration of an easier-to-lug drum pedal. This one uses a known-working drum sound generating device -- an ancient "Dr. Rhythm" drum machine from 1983. It has buttons on it to manually play the drum sounds, so I just had to rig a way to press one of them with my foot, without crushing the box. It worked quite well, finally, but I didn't get to play it much because I didn't have the stool to sit on, so I couldn't play it on songs that have both drums and changes to the harmony. I can even shift the device in its cradle to get different sounds under the button...
Which worked quite well when some nice girls asked for "Please, Mister Postman". I moved the drum machine to the "Hand Clap" sound, and described and demonstrated the requisite distinctive "Clap-clap.... Clap!" pattern, but said that they would have to keep it going because I can't tap my foot to that syncopation while playing the straight rhythm pattern on the guitar. I've tried, believe me. But the guy who was chatting them up, Blake, volunteered to come up and work the pedal, and did so, crouched down, intently playing the pedal with his hands. And it was great! Really helps make that song.
The girl, Cassie, who had requested "Mr. Postman" wanted to buy my CD, but she didn't have any cash (as happens a lot, these days). She asked if I had a card reader, which, I suppose, I ought to get. As a compromise, I traded her a CD for a selfie to post here.
Her new friend Blake had "just got off the plane" from somewhere(s) and also didn't have any American money, but gave me a Serbian 100 Dinar note (90 cents, US), with none other than Nikolai Tesla on it. Cool.
The only sour note of the evening was a lot of interference from Homeless Willy, with his "I'll just sit over here and shut up" routine, which stays in effect for only ever-so-brief periods. If anyone slows down, he immediately leaps up and starts hitting them up for cigarettes or money, which of course creeps them out and they leave. And people who'll stop for even a little while are too rare to give up these days, so after a half-dozen warnings, Warren finally called the cops, who came by and had a talking-to with him, but he was right back at it almost as soon as they left. I finally stopped in the middle of a song to physically intimidate him away from the couple who had requested it, and he got mad enough to cuss me out, declare my music terrible, and leave. Whatever it takes, Willy.
So, as it warms up, it's simultaneously getting better and worse. With the scheduling tyranny of the Tommies and the creepy homeless guys and palm-frond origami opportunists who love to "work" the audience that I assemble, I really hope I can crack the Dana Point nut and have a second, and possibly way better, choice for the summer.
Pretty great night at the wine bar. Right at the start a couple came in that was music savvy, loved my songlist, made dozens of requests, stayed almost the whole night, and promised to be back again for my next gig there in two weeks. They even demanded the bar manager to bring me back every week. Out of the blue, the bar guy asked me to play "Puff, the Magic Dragon", which was the one song that the wife insisted that I *not* play, since it was her hated nickname in middle school. Weird.
Late in the evening, the guy, Terry, came over to ask me if he could sit in on harmonica, if he found one in his car. I said sure, and his wife came over while he was gone to assure me that he was a "professional harmonica player" (and had cancer, however that was relevant) and wouldn't embarrass me. Unfortunately, the only harp he found demanded songs in G, and I don't have a listing of what key my songs are in, so all we managed to do was me playing a little blues loop for him to jam on. And he was quite good.
That encouraged the owner to insist that a lady named Heather, who apparently is a regular on Karaoke Nights, to get up and sing with me. This seldom goes well, since my songs are, surprise!, written out in my vocal key, which tends to be a bit low for most women-folk. But, coincidentally, I had just learned Gloria Gaynor's disco hit "I Will Survive", just for such an occasion (though I thought it would be some drunk Woo Girl down on The Corner). Heather was a bit young to have heard it often enough to get all the words fit in, but she held her own.
She wanted to try something slower, so I suggested Linda Ronstadt's "Long, Long Time", which she thought she knew better than she actually did. After a few more songs she got up to try again, and managed to do quite well singing Carole King's version of "You Got a Friend" against my James Taylor version backing. I'm not sure it's a great precedent to let random people come up and sing -- since I've found that quite often, people who think they can, really can't -- but it made the owner happy and seemed to liven up the place.
The place closes at 11, and I'm supposed to play until 10 when it usually clears out anyway, but this time a group showed up just around 10 and kept me playing until 11 -- which is fine with me. And the owner went ahead and booked me for two more gigs in April, continuing my every-other-Friday pattern. If I'm not careful, all this just might give me ideas/confidence about trying to get booked at some other places...
The new amp worked really well, with almost no feedback issues, and wonderful sound. Not to mention a much easier setup and teardown from my old "full rig" with its two tripods, too-heavy amp to lift up and down from one, second speaker and its extra trip-wire, and requirement of two trips to the car, each way. Win-win!
The "other performer" at the Senior Daycare has gotten (permanently?) sick, so they asked me if I could play twice a month from now on. It's an easy, nice, close, short, (indoor!) gig, so of course I accepted. But now I'm even more worried about playing the same songs over and over -- even though it's a "memory impaired" program so nobody's supposed to remember me from last time.
So it's a trade-off between playing through my limited number of songs that are old enough that they might know them, and playing different songs from last time and the time before. I suppose I'll settle on doing 4 or 5 "greatest hits" that they clearly respond to, and mixing up the rest.
This was the first official outing of my new "indoors" amplifier. It's exactly half the weight of my battery-powered rig, and comes in a cool roller-bag for transport. And it sounds amazing. And it has its own feedback-reduction circuit, so between that one and the one in the harmony box (which also acts as the guitar's interface), I might just be able to play my new guitar without feedback, finally.
I got it to play at the wine bar (tonight!) and this Senior gig, and it'll also work at the outdoor gigs with power, like the Artisan Faire/Farmer's Market kinds of things, and also Santa's Workshop come Christmastime. It's louder than the old amp, and has much better, clearer, sound. So far, I'm really pleased with it.
Lookit me -- a new guitar, a new amp, and a new(-ish) car to drive them around in. What's going on here?!?
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!"
