If anything, this blog is going to be about work ethic.
Its true that I’ve only begun taking music as seriously as it deserves to be taken rather late in (a truly dedicated musician’s) life. And thusly my practice ethic is still wild and often unkept. I believe in the spontainity of music making down to every little muscle in my finger. But one can only forgive one’s same mistakes for so long. And so I’ve taken my practice time very seriously for the last three and a half years.
Busking is akin to practice for me, but its more like performance practice since there are so many multiple parties involved.
So, I told myself the night before that I would get up and be the early bird, get my practicing done early and enjoy the rest of the day with whatever earnings I could get. Early turned out to be around 11am which definitely missed the commuter crowd. My friend Seth has a theory that people going to work earlier in the day might be more apt to throw some money at someone early in the day when they still have it in their pocket. I’m certainly out to test the theory, since I could also touch someone with my music at a more critical time in the day. Preferentially, I personally enjoy skipping mornings totally.
This is partly due to the fact that I spent my entire youth as a newspaper deliverer. 5am risings to get the paper route done by 7am were my life from 5th grade to 12th grade. And then when I got done with that I worked at summer camps all summer long through college where 6:30 wake up bells were regular. oh, and I’ve pretty much never had an early Sunday morning to myself. So I kind of feel like I wore out my early mornings. But I’m also into the idea of expanding my sense of work ethic again so it might be time to give some early mornings a shot…again.
Anyway as a booster to my chops – I stayed out three hours. I actually lasted longer than my guitar since I busted a D string that was new as of five days ago. I started in Powell St. I took the place of this old, blind, trumpeter with a Mexican accent, with beautiful tone on his horn.
I didn’t make a dime at Powell after about 45 mins of playing. So I decided to grab some food quick and get back out.
My second destination was Pier 39 on the Embarcadero. Its a whoopass of tourists at this time of the year. I started playing on the sidewalk just East of the Aquarium. I’ve been working on my complimenting of passerbys. It was my pleasure to observe a fine array of coloful clothing. And I swear to God everyone has the exact same sunglasses…