Reaching For The Switch

It is Friday evening. It is just turning dark outside. The temperature is listed at 50 degrees.

I have butterflies in my stomach at the prospect of seeing someone already busking at my spot "You haven't been here in forever; I thought the spot was open..."

And full of sorrow after having heard just now, as I sit here in Starbucks, from Colin Mitchell, another busker that the day after Christmas (when it had been 45 degrees and raining lightly) he had made 200 dollars. "I was getting 10's and 20's left and right," he said.

That had occurred to me, when I was looking out my apartment window at the loaded trolley cars passing; that there were people in the Quarter, and it was miserable weather and the day after Christmas; a magical combination, as it turned out.

I had still been soured by past experiences that had had me wondering where the Christmas Spirit was.

I really need to make up my mind to either pursue busking with more of a professional attitude; or to try to get a job somewhere, and only go out to busk when I am really in the mood to play.

The "professional attitude" would have had me out there the day after Christmas getting some of those 10's and 20's, instead of walking down Canal Street thinking about the best way to conceal pork steaks...

Is this the beginning of the Starbucks Era of blog writing?

I don't know, but what better an excuse to prolong my avoidance of going out to busk than to ruminate upon that subject.

I'm sitting here next to Colin Mitchell, whom I used to see frequently here, before my last gift card ran out.

We were just talking about how focused and intense Tanya Huang is when she is "on the job," and her ability to block out distractions and grind out the music until the 5 o' clock whistle blows and she can slide down the neck of her brontosaurus, grab her empty lunch pail, hop in her car and jet off, powered by her bare feet; with a shout of "Yabba Dabba Doo!!!"

I might be confusing characters here; did Fred Flintstone play the violin?!?

But, the ability to turn on the professional busker in one, like flipping a switch; and to play as long as one has committed to, regardless of circumstances (a 100 dollar tip gotten within the first 10 minutes of playing, does not mean "half day," it means play another 7 hours and, who knows, you might get one more, 10 minutes before knocking off which might only bring your total to $250 for the day) is an important character trait in a busker.

As far as totally flipping the switch to the "off" position once busking is over; well; I have that down to a fault, I guess.

Many is the time, when already on the way to the Lilly Pad, I have wished I had some new song to feature, why couldn't I have taken 12 minutes to learn "Wild Horses," by The Rolling Stones in between rolling joints and staring out the window looking for signs and wonders telling me to take the night off. ...see how empty that trolley was that just went by? Forget it; I could get a Herp Alpert song half ass recorded instead...

It took me maybe 4 listens through "This Guy's In Love With You," in order to tweak the chords that I didn't have quite right. This led me to discover that the song uses garden variety "jazz" chords that can be applied to many other songs.

These were chords like the "dominant 7 flat 5" chord that, when you're learning it, it sounds dissonant by itself. "How am I gonna use these?," I asked my teacher.

"Usually when there is a passing note between one chord and another, it becomes the flat 5 on its way to the next chord, where it becomes the root. You'll see," he had added.

Yeah, I'll see in about 30 years when I'm working on "This Guy's In Love With You..."

There was almost a formula used by songwriters who wanted to write "beautiful" melodies "back then." Every song will mix both major and minor chords, effecting a key change which isn't too drastic, since the root of a C major and a C minor is the same C, for example; and the key change will usually be accomplished by using a chord that is common to both keys as a springboard, or point of departure.

Or, "device" might be a better word.

I can understand how Dorise Blackman, when asked about the chords to almost any song, will preface her explanation with: "It's just..." and then will go on to explain that "it's just" an old Motown cliche that appeared in about 35 different songs, perhaps.

And, hence, I can understand how Dorise Blackman can play about 135 Motown songs. "This is 'How Sweet It Is,' by Marvin Gaye; move your little finger down one fret, and slow it down some, and it's "Where You Lead," by Carol King...pretty simple stuff..."

Colin Mitchell, Day-After-Christmas-Meister

There is kind of a Lego block approach to that kind of songwriting, where you can look at the finished product and think: "OK, that's a big rectangular block with a square one stuck to the top of it with a couple rows of holes hanging over the edge, and then a kind of turret stuck to the top of that. This other song just has the turret on the other side; I can see that..."

I could reuse pieces of the Herb Alpert song and be jamming on "She's A Lady," by Tom Jones in no time, with just a few modifications, for example.

Tom had "professional songwriters" stoking the star-maker machinery, after all; and they were good with their Legos. "It's just a II-V-I progression, and then it goes to the minor in the chorus, that's all..." Right, Dorise?
 
I wouldn't be surprised if Tanya Huang didn't religiously set aside a certain period during her non-busking days to learn new material; with the intensity of a law student cramming for the bar exam; to flip the switch back on for maybe 3 hours every Monday morning, or something...

But, I flip the switch off so completely that I will often only remember that I had broken a string on the guitar the night before that needs to be replaced as the trolley is rumbling down the tracks and I am on my way out the door. Seems like I could have taken care of this right before learning "Wild Horses," and 10 other songs, this morning...

Self Intervention

So, self intervention is required of me.

Such a major change is often precipitated by some kind of disaster, with the going getting tough, then, the tough getting going.

Surely, if I were sitting in jail for the next 45 days for stealing pork, or something, then, within a couple weeks, I would be ready to "give anything just to be out there, and to have my guitar and be able to work, and take nothing for granted..."

The challenge is to adopt this mindset, despite things not being that bad; yet.

I wound up getting just enough in the way of Christmas gifts and money, to have gotten me through a couple nights on my back with the flu, and to Howard's house for the holiday.

But, I suppose, I could have gone out, even after having gotten the 20 dollars from the Lidgleys that was in the calendar, and made some good money, which I could then have placed on top of the 20 dollars when I got home.

The recording of Herb Alpert songs can be squeezed into a busy schedule like that just fine; in fact, I did the thing at 3 in the morning, as it didn't involve screaming vocals. I could just wait until after sunup when the rest of the tenants have stirred, to tackle singing: "Love Hurts," by Nazareth