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Music hath charms
Feb. 24th, 2007 07:03 pmLast night Heather Dale and Ben Deschamps played a house concert in Berkeley. Great fun, good music, good friends and I drank far too much mint tea. I was vowing to be good and not blow the Pennsic fund on CDs, but the good news is that Heather has a couple of albums on iTunes so I can get them there if I want or mail order them from her site.
Heather's "Road to Santiago" got "Oy Comamos" going in the back of my head -they're rhythmically similar. So I found myself singing it in the car on the drive back home. I've almost got it nailed memorywise and may be able to trot it out in front of people at March Crown. Still can't help feeling that another verse might balance it better, but must think on that for a bit.
I really enjoyed busking at Estrella. What the hell? The weatherman insisted it wasn't going to rain until tonight, so I decided to take George and the gurdy and hopped the BART into the city.
In the block between the Embarcadero BART station and the Embarcadero, I passed an old Chinese man with an erhu, two African American men with saxophones (who thought I must have a soprano in my case, or maybe even a cornet!) and a percussionist who was playing an assortment of buckets, pots and cans in the median in front of the Ferry Building.
I found a spot on the sidewalk next to the craft market beside the churro vendor and laid my case out in front of me, realizing the darn thing is full of pewter SCA coinage bestowed upon me by various people over the past couple of years.
I spent a lot of time smiling and cranking, trying to make eye contact with pedestrians. I found myself trying to match tempo with the pot and bucket guy. And I realized that I couldn't be heard from more than a few feet away over the traffic noise coming up and down the Embarcadero. Two hours and $1.50 later, it was time to take a break.
I bought a cup of chai and a cookie at Peet's and went out onto the pier. There was this guy sitting on a folding chair playing a sweet, mellow "That's All" on clarinet. I sigh, remembering my grandfather playing that on the piano. I clapped when he finished. He beamed and started gently swinging "Moonglow".
Ladies and gentlemen, Don Cunningham. He failed to guess what was in my music case but we had a lovely chat.
I moved down the pier and played in front of the oyster bar for another hour or so. My total net as a "pro" was about $3 in change. However, between BART fare and the good-music-karma money I was giving other buskers, I figure I'm about $4 in the hole. If I do this again I need to find places to play with less street noise and hope for better weather. Or dare I even think about an amp?
Heather's "Road to Santiago" got "Oy Comamos" going in the back of my head -they're rhythmically similar. So I found myself singing it in the car on the drive back home. I've almost got it nailed memorywise and may be able to trot it out in front of people at March Crown. Still can't help feeling that another verse might balance it better, but must think on that for a bit.
I really enjoyed busking at Estrella. What the hell? The weatherman insisted it wasn't going to rain until tonight, so I decided to take George and the gurdy and hopped the BART into the city.
In the block between the Embarcadero BART station and the Embarcadero, I passed an old Chinese man with an erhu, two African American men with saxophones (who thought I must have a soprano in my case, or maybe even a cornet!) and a percussionist who was playing an assortment of buckets, pots and cans in the median in front of the Ferry Building.
I found a spot on the sidewalk next to the craft market beside the churro vendor and laid my case out in front of me, realizing the darn thing is full of pewter SCA coinage bestowed upon me by various people over the past couple of years.
I spent a lot of time smiling and cranking, trying to make eye contact with pedestrians. I found myself trying to match tempo with the pot and bucket guy. And I realized that I couldn't be heard from more than a few feet away over the traffic noise coming up and down the Embarcadero. Two hours and $1.50 later, it was time to take a break.
I bought a cup of chai and a cookie at Peet's and went out onto the pier. There was this guy sitting on a folding chair playing a sweet, mellow "That's All" on clarinet. I sigh, remembering my grandfather playing that on the piano. I clapped when he finished. He beamed and started gently swinging "Moonglow".
Ladies and gentlemen, Don Cunningham. He failed to guess what was in my music case but we had a lovely chat. I moved down the pier and played in front of the oyster bar for another hour or so. My total net as a "pro" was about $3 in change. However, between BART fare and the good-music-karma money I was giving other buskers, I figure I'm about $4 in the hole. If I do this again I need to find places to play with less street noise and hope for better weather. Or dare I even think about an amp?
