Sunday, March 25, 2018

FEAR OF BUSKING: YOU KNOW IT DON'T COME EASY


KARSTEN
KARSTEN SYLVESTER MOLLER ANDERSEN (D.O.B. MARCH 11, 2018)
MY FRIEND, MARK CHANDLER
JEFF AND SHAY

Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues,
And you know it don’t come easy.  (“It Don’t Come Easy” by Ringo Starr)
THE UNKNOWN ARTIST STRIKES WHILST ON MY PEE BREAK:)
And now for my theme of this blog entry:  It don’t come easy.  BUSKING DON’T COME EASY.

If you want to be a busker you do have to overcome certain fears, the main one being the fear of playing a guitar in public.  This would certainly be more angst ridden than Glossophobia, the fear of public speaking.  And for sure, public singing is cause for more distress than public speaking.   

This blog entry I will introduce my formula for guitar busking success, for reducing the anxiety prior and during the actual busking experience.  In a fight-or-flight response, this is my fight formula, my four point gradation for conquering your busking butterflies.  I mean, really, should we not be the product rather than the prisoner of our life experiences to date!

1. In trademark Nike fashion, JUST DO IT. Decide to go and sit somewhere and strum, but with your guitar case closed.  You are not busking; you are just strumming.  Just the idea of sitting somewhere, perhaps in a public park, and strumming your guitar will suffice to start.

2.  Follow a plan and EXPOSE YOURSELF.  Create for yourself a series of tolerable steps you can take to overcome your fear.  Not in flasher fashion, it is necessary to expose yourself.  Start by strumming in a public park.  Move yourself to strumming on some sidewalk elsewhere, some place that seems comfortable, preferably somewhere in the mercantile section, downtown so to speak.  Again, just strum with your guitar case closed.

3.  Endure your DISCOMFORT ZONE.  I know you will hate strumming in the park or on the sidewalk will not be much fun the first few times, but I can promise you will survive to tell about it.

4.  REPEAT, REPEAT, and REPEAT some more.  Once you’ve strummed a dozen or so times in public and your anxiety level is zeroth or considerably reduced, ‘tis time to hit the road and strum with your and open guitar case.   Don’t sing – just strum.  You do this often enough and your fear will become a reflex.

SOME PHOOEY FOR THOUGHT: 

  • BE GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO … and if you simply are strumming, essentially, you are getting paid to practice!  You do not need a repertoire of any prescribed length.  Just strum, strum, and strum some more.

  • NO NEED TO WEAR A DUCK COSTUME.  To dress for success is to dress in whatever you’re most comfortable.

  • NOD IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO YOUR CONSUMERS.   When busking you stand out among your fellow plebeians.  Always, always, always acknowledge paying customers with at least a smile and nod, though saying “thanks” aloud is certainly the best practice (pun intended).

Keep in mind that when you are a busker, you are your own Kapellmeister.  When you are a busker you get to do entirely as you want. 

Go where you want.   You can go just out your door, or down the street, or downtown, or even to another town.  I tend to thrum in my downtown neighborhood.  I busk at Shoppers Drug Mart on Mondays, the Italian Star Deli on Tuesday, and Value Village on Saturday.  This is when I’m in my city.

As a busker you never have to be blinkered into going to any particular place.  In summer I love to travel out of country and busk in places like the Dam Square in Amsterdam, the Temple Bar in Dublin, and the Jemma el-Fnaa in Marrakech.  (These are some city main tourist areas where I’ve been busking; I’ve not mentioned the hundreds of sidewalks and side-streets.)

Dress as you want.  You can dress for comfort.  When it’s cold, don in layers.  When it’s hot, doff the layers.  When it’s wet – don’t busk in the rain.  Your choice of busking accoutrements is up to you.

I always wear the same costume.  Cap-a-pie I’m always hatless.  In Americano folk fashion, I’ve messy hair, a pair of shades, a long-sleeved white shirt complete with a collar, faded blue jeans, and work boots.  Occasionally, depending on the weather, I might wear long cargo-shorts and sandals.    

Play as you want.   You can play instrumental covers or just practice your own.  If you want to sing, then sing.  You can even sing in the rain if you want.

Rarely do I sing.  This is what I do when I busk.  I make up guitar riffs and match them to my C or D or G or Am harmonica.  When I’m busking with my 12 string I am never without my harp.

Stay as you want.   Time economy is totally up to you.  Staying five minutes or five hours the choice is yours.

I’ve been known to linger in a busk-spot sometimes not longer than five minutes.  And I’ve been known to linger a couple hours.  The choice of length of time to stay is always mine.

It don’t come easy.  BUSKING DON’T COME EASY!  

Marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week is my Grand Trunk Troubadour band-mate, CORY BALDWIN.  This is Cory strummin’ and singin’ solo and pro bono at a retirement community.  He is channeling Hank Williams!

AN INSTANT INTERNET SUCCESS!



Sunday, March 11, 2018

"KOOL-AID, KOOL-AID TASTES GREAT: KOOL-AID, KOOL-AID, CAN'T WAIT!"


VICTORIA VICTORIA!

PRIVATE PRACTICE COUNSELOR JIM
MY NEIGHBOR VENDOR, CAROLYN
MY FRIEND, ROD
Kool-Aid today is in direct reference to the 1978 cult mass-suicide in Jonestown, Guyana.  Jim Jones, the group leader, convinced his flock to commit suicide by drinking grape-flavored Kook-Aid laced with potassium cyanide, at least that’s how the story goes.  In what is now commonly called “the Jonestown Massacre,” 913 of the 1100 Jonestown residents drank the Kool-Aid and died.
Now Drinking the Kool-Aid is an urban expression that refers to any person or group who goes along with an idea because of peer pressure.   Drinking the Kool-Aid has mostly a pejorative connotation, as it will perhaps (or perhaps not) in this blog entry.
BRUNO
BRUNO PICTURE
Currently I’m considering quenching my thirst for dollars by drinking the Kool-Aid; more specifically, surrendering to the notion of drawing mutt mugs (see my blog entry, DRAW DOGS:  I’M A BOWSKER! June 22, 2014).

Factoid:  I’m a street busker.  I love drawing people’s portraits outside in the sunshine on windless days.  Dogs, I loathe to draw because they squirm too much.

Factoid:  In winter I’m an indoor-market busker.  Drawing live people inside is a joy but sketching animate canines inside or outside is a chore. 

Factoid:  Lately I’ve had this epiphany -- there is mucho dollars in pooch drawing, some big bucks in those barks.  And so drinking the Kool-Aid is proof I can be bought.  If the masters provide the pictures I will draw their dogs for a substantial sum.  Typically I charge ten dollars for a person, a ten minute quick-draw portrait.  However; for a pup portrait, because I’m drawing from a picture and likely to draw it at home, I will charge $25.00 (though I still will commit only ten minutes for the quick-draw).

Such self-negotiations and rationalizations prove that I can be bought.  Drinking the Kool-Aid, in mercenary manner, I shall attempt to chew on the bones of the mongrel market.  But alas upon reflection, I’m drinking the Kool-Aid elsewhere too.

Adhering to any social convention is drinking the Kool-Aid.  Everything from a hug or a handshake, aloha or adios, and adhering to professional and vocational and vocational etiquette is, too, wittingly sipping the Kool-Aid.

We are sipping Kool-Aid in the Western mainstream when we are settling down (colloquial expression), starting a family, embarking upon a career, adopting middle-class values, and embracing middle-class misadventures.  Natured or nurtured, we are ever submitting to drinking the Kool-Aid in our commitment to evolutionary and social fashion.  

Typically, if we want to live our lives forward and live a good and honest life, we need to be sipping the Kool-Aid.  Fundamental to live a life that is lived forward, we need at least a formal education and recreational exercise as a base for a life well spent.  To continue the species we need to procreate, and to procreate we need to recreate.  As a collective our species is amaranthine – as individuals we are finite. 

Yada yada.  Is that all there is?    

Comparison is the thief of joy (Theodore Roosevelt).

A Kool-Aid life is a life of social comparison, a life of following and keeping up with the peers.
However, every now and then there is yearning for more.  Every now and then we crave a lifestyle beyond that we are currently living.   And that existential yen is the consequence of existential dread -- is that all there is.

Ah … existential dread.  We are all on a life continuum of feeling insecure, envious, and discontented, some of us more so than others. 

And to liberate ourselves from the Kool-Aid libation, to exit ourselves from garrets dark and drear, we do have the power of escape into existential enlightenment.  To liberate ourselves from middle-class confinements, we have to imagine the life we want and then initiate the action to make it happen. 

Unfortunately, those same feelings of insecurity and envy and discontent from which we long to break, will have to be fully experienced and shattered enough to break the chains of life Kool-Aid addictions.  And I do not mean in Heavy Harry fashion.

(Remember the Heavy-Harrys?  Those “movin’ and groovin’ and being really, really, heavy” characters of the late 60’s and early 70’s?  The guys who thought they were so cool but were mocked by those that really were cool?

Admittedly, drinking the Kool-Aid is the necessary quench for some economic and social thirsts in everyone’s life.  But once you’ve had enough chow-down on the main courses, and after you have had a million after-dinner burps, then it is time for that sweet, sweet dessert -- your ice-cream dream.

My dream is to be a planetary busker -- 
I’m already licking my ice-cream!

KOOL-AID, KOOL-AID 
TASTES GREAT
ICE-CREAM, ICE-CREAM
CAN’T WAIT!

Those marching in my CHAUCERIAN PARADE this week:
STARTING TO DRAW RILEY




RILEY FINIS

RILEY PICTURE
 

MARCUS
MY PLACE AT THE MARKET