A TALE OF TWO CENTS: THE BULLY BUSKER AND THE BRUTTO TEMPO BUSKER

MY TAKE TODAY AT THE FARMERS MARKET

Right after personally experiencing this bully busker I designed my cathexis.  With opened palm I showed the bully busker two pennies.

"Do you see this?   Two cents may not seem like much right now but it’s more money than you are going to make here tomorrow or the next day or the next day or the next day."

The brobdingnagian wearing the cowboy hat stopped strumming his guitar and glared at me.

"I’m telling you this because you believe you are the only one entitled to busk here.  You tell other buskers that you’re here for the whole day and you don’t even give them the dignity of eye contact when you say such nonsense.  My feeling is the management inside does not know that you shun other buskers with your rudeness.  My feeling is the management is not aware of the manipulative self-created monopoly that you’ve established here.  My feeling is that when I mention this behavior of yours to the store manager, he may not be at all interested in being a busker regulator.  Fact is he’ll likely just shoo you and the rest of us away.  So this two cents (I tossed the two pennies into his guitar case) is going to be the last bit of coin you’re going to make here unless in two hours from now … you’re gone."

Fact:  Every early morning this bully busker would drive up in his brand new Honda Accord, park on the far side of this provincial liquor store parking lot, unload his lawn chair and guitar, and proceed to hold this particular buskspot all day long. 

Fact:  Whenever any other busker, most of whom being half his age, approached him with the question of how long he was staying, he would inevitably reply without eye contact, As long as I want or … I’m here for the day.

Fact:  I’d heard this story about him a few times.  This morning I experienced this story.  This afternoon I tossed two pennies into his guitar case.

Fact:  In two hours the bully busker was packed up and ... gone!

The next day I went to back to that same buskspot.  But his time it was occupied by a brutto tempo busker, Gordon.  Gordon had ridden his bicycle from Toronto, Ontario and was heading west to Vancouver.  Gordon was sleeping in a camp ground, rolled in a sleeping blanket he stored in his bicycle basket.  Gordon has been a busker for over 30 years.  Gordon stated that he never showers.  Gordon said that he hates people but loves the busking lifestyle.  (Gordon, without my prompting, admitted this was an oxymoron.)

Gordon suggested I come back in a couple of hours if I wanted him to be gone from there.  Gordon was a brutto tempo busker and ... generous.

GORDON, THE BRUTTO TEMPO BUSKER

  

Fact:  I did return in a couple hours and Gordon kept his word and rode off, literally.  But before he left, Gordon asked how long I’d planned to be there.

"One hour," I replied.

"Then I’ll be back in an hour," he said.

Fact:  Gordon returned in an hour.

Fact:  Next day I saw Gordon again, as he bumped me from another location, five miles from this one.  Gordon had ridden there on his bike.

GORDON'S BICYCLE

 

Dear reader, I do apologize for my aggressive behavior toward the bully busker but … not so strangely … I would do it again, fight fire with fire, and adopt the persona of a bully busker in this kind of situation. There is a bright-line between being this aforementioned bully busker and this brutto tempo busker, and in this particular case, the bright-line distinguishes generosity from greed.  Gordon had charisma and was generous -- the bully busker was a greedy charlatan.

Amongst the members of the buskerhood, unfortunately, this bright-line is commonplace.  Being a seasoned busker, I’ve acquired a disdain for the bullies and an appreciation for most of the brutto tempos.  [See my blog entry, THE BRUTTO TEMPO BUSKER posted September 29th, 2013.]  Being seasoned (pun intended), most brutto tempos realize the social importance of the buskerhood.  I must mention that I, being a seasoned busker, have acquired a knack for dealing with either, philosophically appreciating both in yin and yang fashion, so to speak.

My extemporaneous attack on the fat bully busker wearing the cowboy hat resulted in the instauration of a premium and profitable buskspot for the rest of us, at least for the time being.  (My use of the fat adjective is only to offer the reader a graphic image of what this bully busker looked like because … though he was worthy of a mention, he most certainly was not worthy of a picture in my blog!)

Marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week:

DAVID AND BARON, AFTER BUMPING THE BULLY BUSKER

The very next day after I bumped the bully busker, David and Baron, a guitarist and drummer, bumped the bully busker (again), and then were bumped a couple hours later by Gordon (of course)!

TRAVERS

This is my globe-trekking son, Travers, showing off his healthy lifestyle (sarcasm intended) somewhere in the region of the Black Sea.  (Travers is NOT a busker but ... I could not resist posting his most recent picture!)

 

IQ, EQ, AND BQ: AND A MILLION BUTTERFLIES LATER

RUDY'S AT REGINA BEACH

IQ (Intelligence Quotient) is a score derived from one of several standardized tests used to measure human intelligence.  

Approximately two-thirds of the human population taking any of these standardized tests score between IQ 85 and IQ 115.  Just five percent of the population scores above 125.

This is all good; however, Psychologist, Nicholas Humphrey, believes that it is Social Intelligence, rather than this quantitative intelligence (IQ) that defines humans.

In exactly this regard of Humphrey, EQ, as of late, has been widely coveted and certain studies have shown that people with high EQ have greater mental health along with better job performance and better leadership skills than the rest of the human population.

EQ (Emotional Quotient) is the ability to recognize one’s own or other people’s emotions, and measurable abilities to use this emotional information to guide thinking and behavior.

In both IQ and EQ, the word, QUOTIENT, is used in reference to the degree or magnitude to which a specific quality or characteristic exists; the celebrity’s likability quotient is high, for example.  

BQ (Buskology Quotient), I’ve decided, is the social capacity to effectively negotiate a complex social relationship in the context of any busking environment.

Take for example, yesterday at the REGINA BEACH ARTS FRENZY.  Every August, RUDY’S owner, LORI ZAK, sponsors an Arts and Music festival for a cause, the proceeds for this year going to mamas 4 mamas.  RUDY’S is a fun and funky beach shop that sells unusual items (cultural masks, buffalo hats, hand drums, driftwood signs, beach ponchos, clothing items, and Buddha wall hangings) from around the globe, but only items made with partner who employ fair trade practices.  

By invitation, traveling with my favorite buskmate and drummer, BARON, we drove through a blizzard of a million cabbage butterflies on the way to the beach.  (This hot, dry weather we’ve been having, apparently, is conducive for the cabbage butterfly to procreate up to five generations in a single summer season.) 

 

NOT MY CAR ... BUT ONE THAT DROVE THROUGH THE SAME BUTTERFLY BLIZZARD

    

Participants at the FRENZY yesterday included dozens of vendors and artists in a semi-circle around a main stage.  I was invited to busk there by my friend, JAY GREENMAN, principal organizer for the event and … first in the entertainment line-up on stage was singer-songwriter, Regan Hinchcliffe, a virtuoso guitarist of significant renown.  (Regan and I and others shared the stage a few months back at THE SIX SINGER-SONGWRITERS SUMMER SHOWCASE hosted by the BUSHWAKKER BREWPUB … see my blog posting June 7^th, 2015.)

Anyway, dozens of cool artisans displaying their unique wares of paintings and pottery and varied jewelry products, were situated in a semi-circle around the main musical entertainment stage. 

“Busk anywhere you like, Neil, the entire place is yours!” explained Jay.  

Baron and I did a quick walk around.  Hmmm … to busk during the main stage performance would have been outright rude.  Hmmm … to busk for 10 or 15 minute between performances would have been noticeably cheesy.  Hmmm … to busk anywhere on the semi-circle somehow seemed demeaning, not necessarily for us, but for the entire event in general.  Hmmm … and to busk elsewhere down the street in this little beach town would have been quite unproductive, speaking strictly from a mercenary point of view.  Hmmm ... had I known Jay arranged all of this as a mamas 4 mamas fundraiser, I would have gladly performed on the main stage for zeroth dollars.

It’s all about the BQ (the BUSKOLOGY QUOTIENT), of which I consider mine to be quite high (if I don’t say so myself).   I know a busker who takes off his shirt, sweats and stinks profusely while blocking the shoppers' entrance to MIKE’S INDEPENDENT on BROADWAY AVENUE.  I consider his BQ to be quite low.  

I know another busker who insists on forcing his crappy guitar playing skills on a wait-in-line ice-cream outlet, THE MILKY WAY on VICTORIA STREET.  I consider his BQ, too, to be low.

I must confess, however, that such social comparisons, comparing myself against other buskers is an exercise in arrogance (on my part) and futility (so what can be done … so what do I care what other buskers do).  For me to represent myself as perfection as a busker is certainly an aplomb illusion, especially since I’ve employed only the ad hominem social comparison model.  Besides, how biggity and pretentious am I … really?    

A more enduring and appropriate, academic social comparison (this is not an oxymoron) would be a temporal comparison; that is, my today self as compared to my yesterday (or yesteryear) self.  This still may be an illusion, but at least I’m not discrediting other buskers in their attempts to eke out a living.  Rather, I am adding just another page in my busker bildungsroman.  (This is being more humble and having a human compassionate attitude, one that I ought to always present.)   

Having a high BQ means to never busk uninvited near a captive crowd, an outdoor pub or eatery.  Having a high BQ means to busk near vendors without their permission.  Having a high BQ means to not vocally solicit people for money.  Having a high BQ means to never infringe upon anyone’s privacy.  Having a high BQ means to always exercise common sense.

I shall explain my metaphor. 

I AM A BUSKER.  I PREFER TO BUSK ON THE SIDEWALK ON SOME BUSY STREET WHERE THERE ARE ONLY PASSERS-BY.

I AM A BUSKER.  WHENEVER I TAKE A BREAK I SIMPLY SIT ON THE SIDEWALK BY MYSELF OR WITH MY BUSKMATE, SIPPING WATER OR AMERICANO DECAFS, AND SOMETIMES EVEN HAVING A FAST-FOOD SUBMARINE SANDWICH.

I AM A BUSKER.  I AM NOT WAITING TO BE DISCOVERED AND DELIVERED TO A BIGGER STAGE.  I PREFER NOT TO BE IN THE LIME-LIGHT.  I PREFER NOT TO HAVE APPLAUSE FROM A STATIC STAND-AROUND CIRCLE OF AN AUDIENCE. 

I AM A BUSKER.  I PREFER TO BE ON MY OWN SCHEDULE, PERFORMING WHATEVER SONGS I WANT, WHENEVER I WANT, FOR AS LONG AS I WANT.

I AM A BUSKER. HMMM … BUSKING AT THE REGINA BEACH ARTS FRENZY WOULD HAVE BEEN BUSKING IN A FISH BOWL – 

I PREFER TO BUSK IN THE SEA. 

Stating all of the above -- I NOT WANT TO DISS MY FRIEND, JAY GREENMAN, in his laudable endeavor, who invited me to the REGINA BEACH ARTS FRENZY.  In spite of not busking, I did have a good time.  I purchased a didge bag from BOOMTOWN DRUMS (one of the vendors); I perused RUDY’S; I met all the musicians; I even walked down to the beach!

Besides, I did certainly have a palmy morning (pun intended) this same day at the FARMERS MARKET in downtown Regina.

Here are some of the characters, who marched in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this past week, all which taken at the REGINA FARMERS MARKET:

ANNA SCHAAB OF THE GARLIC GARDEN (MY VENDOR NEIGHBOR AT THE MARKET)

SELF AND MARK PENNYWHISTLE (NOT HIS REAL NAME)

 

ROQUE ANDRES AND SELF IN REGINA

ROQUE AND SELF IN AMSTERDAM!  (A FEW YEARS AGO ... WHAT ARE THE ODDS!)

 

WHERE'S TRUDEAU?  JUSTIN IS DEAD CENTRE IN THIS PICTURE (AT THE MARKET)

        

BUSKING: THE MOST CAPITALISTIC ENTERPRISE

JULE, OWNER OF CUPP'T SPECIALTY FINE TEAS (MY FREQUENT MARKET NEIGHBOR)

CAPITALISM is an economic system and mode of production that is based upon private enterprise.  And in practicing such a system, we acquire a certain amount of capital investments, ranging from ECONOMIC to SOCIAL to CULTURAL to SYMBOLIC to BODY.  Busking, indeed an enriching enterprise, gathers together all these five capital investments.

• ECONOMIC CAPITAL refers to wealth and material.  In our society any hoarding behavior, the stockpiling of anything, save for money, is considered eccentric.  For example, if I were to report to you, dear reader, that I’ve a closet full of sports jackets, say a hundred or so; or, if I were to report to you that I’ve dozens of pairs of shoes in my closet, you would consider me to be eccentric.  However, if I mentioned, dear reader, that in my money portfolio I’ve stockpiled close to a million dollars over the years, that would probably be okay, save for the jealousy.  My point is that in Canada and the United States, greed for the greenback (a dated metaphor I know) is not considered to be gluttonous.  In fact it is quite the opposite.  Accumulating dollar wealth and materialistic richness is considered to be shrewd.      

Busking is a mercenary enterprise in collecting wealth.  At the end of each busking day I quite enjoy gathering all the coins and bills (mostly toonies and fives) that have been tossed into my guitar case. 

• SOCIAL CAPITAL refers to friendships and acquaintances. When busking the passers-by sometimes include a few personal and professional friends.  Considering that in my other jobs as a full-time high school counselor, part-time university professor, and part-time hypnotherapist, a few confidants and compeers bumping into me on the street is to be expected.  But most times busking, I’m strumming for strangers perfect (pun intended) and strangers familiar (from a psychological perspective, these would be my regular consumers).

Busking is all about meeting people.  In order to be a good busker one needs to be a social butterfly, metaphorically speaking of course.  Literally, a good busker need not have wings.  However, a good busker is gregarious (but featherless).

• CULTURAL CAPITAL refers to education and skills.  The concocted and improvised aleatory melodies of my busking forces my musical skills to be ever approving and always on the mend.  Always I am practicing frails and finger rolls.  And as of late, I’ve even been practicing percussion guitar hits whilst I strum.  

Though busking does not add to any encyclopedic scholarship, the eclectic street edification gained from sidewalk performing is limitless.  Buskers, indeed, strum and become familiar with both sides of the street, the sunny side and the shady side.  A good busker needs to be a politician because … a good busker becomes accustom to dealing with the hoi polloi, the dilettantes, the dregs, and the wheelers and dealers on a daily basis.

• SYMBOLIC CAPITAL refers to prestige and recognition.  In a city of 230,000 residents, I’ve the privilege of being recognized as a downtown busker.  There are maybe a dozen buskers in the city, most of which, I’m sorry to report, are really pan-handlers or beggars having a guitar as a prop.  (This is certainly not meant as a slam to those real buskers who are highly skilled or faux buskers as I.) 

Factoid:  Regina, the city where I reside, is a government town – Regina is not the purportedly tourist destination as presented in the literature.)  Tourist destinations include accommodations for buskers.  True tourist destinations have busker regulations, have designated buskspots, encourage and revere buskers.  Regina has none of this.  The CITY OF REGINA does not regulate busking in any regard.  There is no brotherhood (nor sisterhood) amongst the buskerhood in Regina.  No rules means bad busking.  It’s as simple as that.

• BODY CAPITAL refers to health and well-being.  Busking is an endurance test.  It is tough, tough, tough to stand on a sidewalk and strum guitar and hum a harp for 90 minute intervals, continually throughout the day.  To prepare for this I’ve a long-established regimen of fitness:  a daily three mile run, a daily one-hour bicycle ride, three times a week lifting weights.  There is no way I could stand and strum for as long as I do if I were not busker fit. 

Factoid:  Anyone Western European visiting Canada or America recognizes that we, in general as a society, are overweight.  Anyone traveling to Western Europe recognizes that Europeans, in general, seem slim.  It could be the diets (though I doubt it), the personal fitness regimens (I doubt this too), or the modes of transportation (which I believe to be the best argument).

Whenever I’ve been to Europe, it seems most the people residing there are true pedestrians.  They walk or bike everywhere, including to the train or the subway stations.  In Canada and the U.S.A. we drive our gas guzzling vehicles everywhere, including even to the corner store.  This is not a bias slam – this is a statistic.  In Canada a self-reported 41.3% of men and 26.9% of women, in 2012, recorded heights and weights that classified them as overweight.  18.4% reported heights and weights that classified them as being obese.  Right now in the United States, more than one-third, 34.9% (78.6 million) of the adults is reportedly obese.

In Europe the stats are similar, but do not seem so in the flesh.  Visuals of people on the streets in Paris, Amsterdam, Barcelona, and Dublin, are qualitative bits of evidence that the citizens there are skinnier than here.  And this, I believe, is because of their transportation modes.  Like I stated, most people in major cities are pedestrians, not drivers.

These comparisons, however, do not directly relate to the art of busking.  In most situations most humans, as they age, suffer a reduction in their competencies of capital.  Suffice to say that we buskers are the vampires of the music industry, because we can actually lead an almost amaranthine existence in our careers, provided we consciously keep fit.

BUSKING IS TRULY THE MOST CAPITALISTIC OF ENTERPRISES, 

AND BUSKERS, AS THEY AGE, EVER INCREASE THE CAPITAL COMPETENCE!

Marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week:

JAKE AND THE CADILLAC KID (STANDING BESIDE BUSKER BARON AND HIS CAJON)

KARLI AND BRI OF REBELLION BREWING CO. (MY PERFECT FARMERS MARKET NEIGHBORS!)