Likes and Dislikes

Busking Likes:

• Kids
• People who throw money from cars/ buildings
• People who cross the street to give me money
• People who give me money when I'm not playing
• People who give me $20 notes
• John Corbett
• People who dance (especially tap dancers)
• People who comment on what a difficult instrument I play
• Mexican waves (yeah, that happened)

Busking Dislikes:

• Kids who cry
• Dogs that cry
• Kids who don't give all the money their parents have given them
• Kids who take money from my case
• People who ask for change
• Other buskers
• Stephen Harper
• People who sing along
• People who put hands over their ears
• People who say "Look, a trumpet!"

A Day in the Life

I get going at the crack of noon. I set up on Main St (and yes, it’s always called Main St). In a town with a population of under 10,000, the entire town will have seen or heard about me within the hour.

Some or all of the following things will be said to me during the day.

“A guy in the office told me that someone was playing the trombone down town, so I came to check it out.”

“We don’t get many buskers around here” pauses to think. “Actually there was a guy here a couple of months ago. He played the guitar. He was a backpacker too…. From Vancouver. Do you know him?”

“”That’s a big instrument for a little girl” chortle, chortle. I smile shyly and play with the pink ribbons in my hair.

After an hour or so, it’s time for lunch. Waiting inline, someone will give me money. “I saw you playing across the street”. I love it when that happens.

After idling away a few hours in the sun, I’ll get back to work.

“Oh you poor thing! You’ve been out here ALL day”

Then this conversation inevitably occurs.

“Where are you from?”

“Australia”

Eyes light up, smiles widen.

“Australia eh? You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

“Yep”

“You know I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand…”

Why must Canadians always do this? I don’t tell them I’d rather go to the US, and THEY’RE supposed to be the polite ones? Besides, I’m never quite sure how to respond.

“I’ve never been to New Zealand. I here it’s nice.”

4pm is quitting time. It’s time for a cold beer after another tough day.

Busking Perks

Here is a list of things I've received other than money:

• Lemonade
• Root beer
• Strawberry ice cream
• Maple pecan ice cream
• Beer x3
• Fish and chips
• Note book with a picture of a cat on it
• Nachos
• Jehovah's witness pamphlet
• Crackers
• Concert ticket to see Montreal youth orchestra
• Note saying "God Bless"
• Kinder Surprise

Things I've been offered but haven't accepted

• Drugs
• Sex
• Jobs
• Jobs involving drugs
• Jobs involving sex

Be proud Mum.

How I Met John Corbett

Me and two other girls from the hostel went to Point Pleasant park in Halifax this afternoon. They went for a nap, while I busked. I had just pulled out my trombone when a man walking past said “No way, are you going to play that?”

I knew that voice. I looked up. I knew that face. It was John Corbett aka Aiden from 'Sex and the City' aka the music teacher from 'Raise Your Voice' aka the guy from 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding' aka the sexiest man ever.

“Who plays a horn in a park?” he asked
I tried to breathe. Say something clever.
“Who doesn’t play a horn in the park” I said stupidly. Damn.
“Are you going to play a song?”
“Sure”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous to play ‘Oh When The Saints’. I played it 4 times through and he stayed for the whole song.

“You play a mean horn. Do you take it with you wherever you go?’
“Kind of. I’m travelling around Atlantic Canada at the moment and this is funding my trip”
“You know there’s a massive buskers festival at the waterfront right now”
“Yeah, I was there yesterday. I just thought I’d come to the park today.”

He put $5 in my case.

"Well there's a beer..."

Yeah, I now have a $5 note that John Corbett touched, that I will never spend.

“How long are you going to play for?” he asked
“Not too long, I’m just waiting for my friends; they’re taking a nap”
“OK. So I’ll see you in a bit”

I played another song as he walked away, then gained enough composure to message the girls.
They came to my spot soon after.

“Oh my gosh we saw him! It’s really him”
“We walked past him. He was sitting on a bench.”
“He’s soooooooo hot. Agh!!!”

The 3 of us had turned into giggling school girls. Obviously we would wait for him to come back.

After a while I decided to buy a bottle of water from a nearby ice cream stand. The woman in front of me was taking forever. I turned to see John Corbett in the distance, walking towards where I’d left my trombone.

“I’ll get one strawberry and one…. Hmmmm… what do you think is better, the butterscotch ripple or the butter pecan?”
Oh my god. She was trying to kill me. I just wanted a bottle of water. I paced back and forth trying to hurry her. Should I abandon the water idea? Then I’d come back empty handed, that might be weird. I decided to wait for the water.
“I think I’ll get a hot dog as well…” the lady continued.
I got served after what seemed like an eternity but was probably only 30 seconds.
“Keep the change” I muttered after getting my water.

I turned. He was close. Too close. I was going to have to run to get back to my case before he did. I didn’t care, I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

I casually, or as casually as I could, ran back to my case. I got there just in the nick of time. He nodded as he came towards me.
“Hi” I said
“Hey, how about you play something and I’ll do a funny walk”
“OK” I racked my brain, trying to think of something I could play and not screw up. ‘I Got Rhythm” seemed like a good option.

He did a funny walk/dance thing as he passed. He turned around and blew me a kiss. Katrina and Phoebe were still giggling on the bench behind me. We have been talking about it ever since.

Crazy of the Week - Homeless People

I'm making a mass generalisation here; many panhandlers are not homeless, but that's who I'm talking about. I have grown to hate panhandlers. They take all the good busking spots, and I'm kind of scared of them. They all know each other and they tend to be very territorial. I've been asked to move by panhandlers multiple times. I have a strict 'don't mess with homeless people' policy, so when they ask, I always move.

Yesterday a man reeking of stale beer approached me while I was busking.

"Do you mind moving? I want to have a beer, and this is my spot."

It didn't make any sense. Why couldn't he have a beer somewhere else? Why couldn't I keep playing while he drank his beer? I didn't ask, I just moved on.

I found a nice spot downtown. I was a little wary of the panhandler across the road, but I figured it would be OK being on the opposite side of the street.

After about half an hour he came over to me. He had long, greasy hair and a beard that looked like a birds nest. His clothes were dirty and full of holes. I sighed this man was going to make me move again. He nodded at me, pulled a few quarters out of his coffee cup and dropped them into my case. I was gobsmacked.

There was another panhandler up the road a bit.

"Hey give her some money" panhandler no. 1 screamed at her.

She shook her head. He threw his arms up angrily.

"Give her some" he yelled again.

She wouldn't, but I didn't care. I watched the scene in disbelief.

In conclusion, I have no idea how I feel about homeless people/ panhandlers.

Busker Ettiquite?

It's common busking practice to ask someone how long they'll be playing for in a certain spot. This way you know whether it's worth waiting for them to finish or moving on.

I went to busk at the farmers market in Sydney the other day. It was the perfect spot - except someone was already there. She sat in the corner with her wire music stand, playing Irish folk tunes on the tin whistle. She looked about 14 and was cute as a button - the exact same look I was going for!

I approached her, my hair filled with pink ribbons and glittery butterfly clips, and asked how long she'd be playing for. She looked kind of terrified.
"Ummm... I'm not sure.... let me ask my Dad"
I waited patiently while she went looking for her Dad.
"Hey Dad, what time are you going to pick me up do you think?"
"I'm not sure honey, maybe around noon"
"Hmmmm" I muttered. It was 10.30. My ride was leaving in 45 minutes. Noon wasn't going to cut it. I smiled and went to find another spot. There was nothing. It was a small farmers market and anywhere I would play would drown her out. I really wanted to play, but I wasn't going to stoop that low.

My time was running out. I only wanted to play for half an hour. I decided to do something I've thought about doing a few times. I was going to try and pay her off.

I waited for her to finish the song she was playing. It was the longest song in history; smart kid, she knew I was bad news.
I took a deep breath.
"I'll give you $15 if I can have your spot for half an hour" I said
"Oh, ummmm... well... you don't have to pay me"
"No, please I'll compensate you. I just need half an hour then it's all yours again"
"I guess I could call my Dad.... he could pick me up early"
"If you don't want to, just say..." I said, but I was already unpacking my trombone.
"No, it's OK. I s'pose I've had my turn." she said shyly "You don't have to give me any money"
"I don't want to kick you out, I just need half an hour" I said putting my trombone together
She moved her stand and chair to the side, and pulled out her phone to call her Dad. I guiltily shoved a handful of loonies into her hat.

After my first song she was gone. I made $40 in half an hour. It really was a nice spot.

Canadian Tire Money

"There is only one store in Canada" Captain Dave used to say. He's not wrong. It has pretty much everything. Need a garden hose? Canadian Tire. How about a toaster, a fishing rod, a new dress or an engine for your car? Maybe you need a person to put the engine in your car, or someone who can sharpen your ice skates. Canadian Tire is always the answer.

Every time you purchase something from Canadian Tire, you receive 3% of the total back in Canadian Tire Money (CTM). This can be used instead of cash at any Canadian Tire. The system is so well known that many Americans believe that the fictional character pictured on CTM, 'Sandy McTire', was Canada's first Prime Minister.

Captain Dave told me that he would actually take CTM instead of cash. I thought he was insane. Then he told me that some shops take Canadian Tire Money. I didn't believe him until I saw this sign in a shop in St John's, Newfoundland.

Fact: Canadian Tire MasterCard lets people earn Canadian Tire Money anywhere they shop, as well as receive double cashback at Canadian Tire.

Fact: I now count CTM as cash.

I Want To Hear Your Life Story

I didn't say that did I? Maybe I did, or perhaps I have it tattooed across my forehead. That must be it, otherwise why would so many people insist on telling me their life stories?

There is no way to stop it. They start by asking a question like "how long have you been playing for?" or "are you from here?". Then, all of the sudden they're saying things like

"I was born in Trenton, Ontario, but my father was from Germany, which was actually Poland at the time, or was that where he moved to? I can't remember. Anyway, it was 1938 at the time. Or was it '39? Nope, it was '38 because that was the summer my great Aunt Gladys married William. Now they could paint! My goodness, what wonderful artists they were! You should have seen them. They painted landscapes mostly, but sometimes they'd paint a portrait and the likeness! Iiiincredible! Some say my Aunt was better than Picasso, but no one noticed women in those days. Not like today, eh? You study music?"
"Ah, no."

"When I was in college, which was, oooh, 46 years ago? Or 47? hmmm..." etc etc

In the last week, I've heard everything from how to join the salvation army band and avoid conscription to how to kill a moose to the rise and fall of Austro-Hungarian empire.

A few days ago, a man telling me his life story sensed my impatience.
"Don't worry. You'll get compensated for listening to this." He said pulling out a $10 note.
You should have heard the 'oohs' and 'aaahs' I made. I love hearing people's life stories!