Maugorn

I was out busking in Old Town Alexandria the other day, and this fellow stops to listen as I'm playing some Grateful Dead on my banjo. ("I Know You, Rider", I think- not one of their originals, but a staple in their repertoire)
So he tips me when I'm done and remarks (as many have) about how much I resemble Jerry Garcia. "You're the very first person to notice" I tell him, which confuses him a little, so I had some mercy and explained that actually yes, I get that compliment a lot. The fellow then enthusiastically starts telling me that a lot of people don't know that Garcia was also a banjo player.
I reply that "Oh, yes. I do know that, and he was a damned good one too!"
So at about that time, his wife (I presume) comes out of the shoe store that I perform by and doesn't quite take him by the ear to get him to go. He sadly says he needs to say goodbye, and that it was really nice to meet me. I reach out to shake his hand and tell him that it was good to meet him too. But at the last second I stop and pull my hand back and say: "Oh, and by the way, I *didn't* fake my death so that I can hang out here. See, I have all of my fingers!" I held up my hand to show him. Jerry Garcia was missing his right middle finger from a childhood accident. But... when it's cold out, I usually wear a glove on my right hand with only my picking fingers cut out. So you can only really *see* two of my actual fingers, and my thumb. "Or *do* I?" I slyly added, and made a little twilight zone noise. Then I shook his hand...

...And as I did, I could feel him try to check out if I *did* in fact have all of my fingers.

I waited until he was out of earshot to laugh.

The past two weeks have been a total crush on me financially.

The new album not being out yet really put a damper on my holiday income.
And then, the van needed all that work (and still needs more) and THEN my gig for Esoterica had to be cancelled.

Result: no $ to in the budget to purchase the holiday gift I'd had my eye on for patches023.
This. Would. Not. Do.

So I took my day off yesterday and made it back into a day on, and did something I haven't done in a few years: I went and busked in Old Town Alexandria.

When I had *stopped* busking there, I was starting to work a lot for Potbelly, and the City was cracking down on their buskers for every stupid little thing, especially my trying to sell my CDs and especially playing after 11pm on a block where nobody lived. The CDs were a little random boost that would often make my bad days better and supersize my good ones.
Playing after the bars and restaurants closed had me giving a final bit of entertainment to happy people who weren't done having fun yet. There were times when 11pm-2am were as lucrative as the rest of the day. Anyway, round about when we moved to MD, I stopped playing in Old Town. Little by little my regular gigs have improved alot, but I'm still making quite a bit less than I used to make. My income is sometimes better, but it's alot more irregular, and alot less often. My prospects ARE improving (I have to keep reminding myself of that), but that improvement is coming slowly and incrementally.

But I ventured out yesterday and decided I would give it a try and see how it went, and see if my Old Town Mojo could still fill my magic bag.

It did.

The first good sign was that someone up the street (way up the street, thankfully) was playing a trumpet, amplified, and not being hassled. I wasn't planning to amplify, but it was good to know that I was probably not going to be picked on just for being audible.

I couldn't go back to my old spot (apparently, The Landini Brothers having stopped liking me after 10years next to them was one part of my downfall before), but I found a good spot on that same block in the form of a vacant store front.

I did GREAT. I mean REALLY GREAT. I mean, twice what I would often do on a Saturday back when I was a regular. Sometimes I'd do that well, but it was definitely on the way high end of the curve.
And that was strange in that there were definitely fewer people out and I definitely seemed to have less mass appeal, but the people who liked me REALLY LIKED ME.
The fact that I did so well in such a bad economy and after being off of that venue for so long was the best Solstice gift ever.

I was not hassled about selling CDs. (And I did sell some)
I wasn't hassled for staying out late either.
I got a really good 13 hour musical workout, with extensive banjo playing as well as guitar.

I was a little disappointed in that there were a bunch of songs that I used to have down very cold that I just didn't have anymore, and more that I didn't have up to their old glory. I hesitated trying to cheat with the laptop for them, as it would majorly complicate my setup for not a lot of time on it (no plug), and uncertain payoff. But despite that, I know that I'm singing a whole lot better than even those final days when I was obviously singing pretty good. But alas, I'd need to do this more to recover more of my upper range. But that can be arranged. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I'd had my old sharpness with my new quality available yesterday. And there were some newer things in my current rotation that I always thought would have been good 'Old Town' songs, and sure enough, they were.

There were some great moments too, the kind that really made me love my job.

As I was entertaining a Dad-n-Child as Mom shopped, she *asked* if I knew how to play "Puff, The Magic Dragon". Yes!!!!!! That made my day. You ain't being brought up right if you're if you don't know "Puff" as a child.
Dad paying a couple of bucks to a street singer- cheap.
To be serenaded personally by someone playing Puff just for you when you're young- PRICELESS.

Also, I've spoken before of some of the songs in my repertoire being "Smart Missiles" when I perform, busking especially. They're not necessarily songs with mass appeal, but when they find someone in their target audience, they hit and they hit good. For example "American Pie" will almost always get me tips. It often gets me more people tipping me than any other song. But "The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald" gets me bigger individual tips, even tho it's not as many. The trick is to somehow develop the instinct of knowing when it's time to play a particular smart missile. Somehow I got better at doing that.
Anyway...
Harry Chapin's "Taxi" is the smartest missile in my repertoire. And yesterday was no exception. And my old instincts totally worked too. Unamplified, I roped a lady from across the street into coming over and GUSHING at me how she was such a Chapin fan when he was alive, even to the point of being the first in line to see him overseas somewhere when she had happened to be there when he was playing one night. And she tipped me GOOD! And then after dinner, she came and found me again, and tipped me GOOD AGAIN to play it for her again. I'm not usually into repetition, but she was nice, tipping me GOOD, *and* it helped me to work out just a little more rust off the arrangement, since I've maybe played it only a half dozen times in the past 6 years. I may have a new fan, and I gave her my card so she could get on my email list. And there may be a birthday party.
Or maybe it was just a good moment. Either way, it was the kind of moment that had the magic that I remember and totally grooved on. It was the kind of magic that eases alot of pain around why I stopped doing this in Old Town in the first place.

There were also a few people who recognised me, and all of them stopped to ask how and where I've been, and ALL of them went on about how they had missed me and how nice it was to hear me back again. That was also very very sweet and very very soothing to a (lately) grumpy soul.

All in all, I think it was Santa magic. I'd been wondering what kind of chance I'd have being considered nice, lately- what with numerous stupid tantrums and much anger and frustration around how stuff's been going that yes, did in fact spill out onto others. But It was the Solstice. And I think that it was just perfect that Santa would send me such a gift when I was being giving myself, in one of the ways that I do giving the best.

All in all, I really needed that.

I took a whole lot of sour lemons, including myself, and squeezed real hard yesterday, and now I am alot richer, in every sense of the word, especially the monetary.

Today, I am thoroughly squeezed.
My throat is a little scratchy, my hands are a little swollen, and I've been drinking ALOT of water. I wasn't as used to the cold either, but I had a couple of those nifty pocket warmers that my banjo student sister_devora scored for me last year, so that helped. And my insulated jump suit came out of storage and was as happy to be working again as was I.

I would have liked to stay out till the bitter end, but alas, it started raining about an hour before closing time. But I still did a whole lot better than I expected, and even better than I had secretly hoped!

Thank you, Santa. That was GOOD lemonade.