Day 3: May 31st, 2011, 5:40pm-6:30pm, NE, SW Corner of Yonge & Bloor.
I haven't been busking in a while because it's been raining here for nearly 3 weeks straight. This is just as well because there were other important music things to attend to (my choir concert and some Debs & Errol shows). I'm going to see how rush hour goes today because I have a board meeting to get to so I can't play into the evening.
Yonge & Bloor is only a 20 minute walk from where we're meeting later so it seems like a good bet. On the northeast corner a middle-aged Asian man is playing "Besame Mucho" on soprano sax, facing the commuters with his back toward Bloor. When he finishes the song I introduce myself and ask him if he'd mind if I played kitty-corner. He says that he's almost finished so I sit on the steps nearby and listen.
When he's done we talk for a bit and he says that he picked that spot because it's shadier and slightly cooler. He has a good point so I set up where he was though being on the edge of the road with my back to the street feels a little awkward.
It's a slow, sweltering day - the first really hot day of the year - and Toronto is definitely feeling it. All people want to do is get out of the heat as quickly as possible and quite frankly I can't say I blame them. I'm not having too much luck, though I have a lot of pennies.
I switch to the SW corner. It's still very slow but it feels a little more familiar. A lady gives me a $5 bill. A very sunny man wearing vibrantly coloured shirt man comes by and emphatically says"thank God for you" before he crosses the street.
A girl drops a bookmark into my case and I automatically say "thank you". I'm all for random things and I read a lot, so that's cool. There are a whole bunch of Chinese characters on it and a drawing of a little kid carrying a flag while stepping on a frog. Text on the backside talks about the painter and offers some website links including this one about a practice called Falun Gong. Apparently it's based on Truth, Compassion and Tolerance. I'm sort of just feeling bad for the frog.
It's 6:30 now and time to go. The random flower in my hair is slightly wilted and so am I. It was still good to get out.
Earnings: $8.58
Expenses: $3.50 ($2.50 to get there and $1.00 to the busker)
Tuesday 31 May 2011
Friday 13 May 2011
Zeppelin's Guitarist
Day 2: May 12th, 2011, 6:40pm(ish?)-8:47pm, SW Corner of Yonge & College.
I’d like to reclaim my Yonge & Bloor spot from Sunday but there are uniformed youth on three of the four corners collecting for something. When I cross the street, a soft-spoken girl on the SW corner asks me if I’d like to support the Navy. I am confused. Why can’t the federal government support the Navy? Why does the Navy use kids to fundraise? Why are they on so many corners at once? You thought you could cross the street to get away huh? NOT SO!
I walk south on Yonge to Wellesley (that’s the next subway stop and for the non-Torontonians); they’re there again. “Excuse me,” I say to a young Asian man in the uniform, “but are you guys at all the major intersections?” He is pretty sure that there’s no one at College (next one south) so I keep walking. The stores right around there were vandalized pretty badly during the G20 summit. There’s a Starbucks at the corner and I’m remembering the smashed windows…
“Hey, I know you!” A tall black man who had been leaning against the wall jumps out at me. Weirdo. I give him a suspicious look and keep walking. “No, really! I was on that bus with you, York Mills, on Election Night!” Actually, that was true – I’d been working at Thornhill’s election office until very late that night and we had sat at the bus stop together talking about the election while we waited for a 24 hour bus. “So, are you doing anything later? I live right there, we could...” “Thanks, but I’m just going to busk for a little while and then head home.” He insisted on giving me some change to help me get started after I told him that I didn’t do private concerts. Oh man.
I set up on the southwest corner and quickly realized that I have placed myself by a subway entrance and a streetcar stop. This makes me a little nervous – there are lots of people waiting for the streetcar and I feel as though I shouldn’t repeat songs until they’re gone. I’m also not crazy about putting commuters in an awkward position, making them feel as though they have to give me something if they’ve been standing for a while. I figure it’s part of the learning process and decide to stay and see how it goes.
A man drops some change in and introduces himself. He’s visiting from San Francisco and I think it’s neat that I’m contributing to his impression of Toronto. I ask him if he likes it and he says he does, but that he could never live here because of the snow. He shudders, a typical response for a Californian, I guess. He stands by and listens, and then throws some more change in because “it looks as though not many people are giving you money.” Shortly after that, a professionally dressed woman thanks me and throws in a $5 bill! She jumps onto a streetcar before I can say anything. Another woman smiles and dumps her change purse into my case. Pennies fall like rain.
“What’s your name?” An older man with a Canada shirt wants to play 20 questions. He parks his cart directly in front of me and interrogates me. “Where are you from? Where did you go to school?” His name is Avi, and it turns out that three of his four children went to the same university I did. I tell him what my degree is and he shakes his head sadly. “What you have to do,” he mutters, “is go to Vocational Services on Kennedy Street. Ministry of Social Services. They will pay for you to get retrained and go back to school.” He rummages in his pocket and pulls out of a quarter. “I know this won’t help much,” he says. “But good luck to you.” I assure him that there’s more to busking than money and watch as he crosses the street.
I play “Hallelujah” as a man in jeans and a red and white plaid shirt comes over. He says that he kind of knows the song and I tell him that he can sing if he wants to. He joins in for a chorus and then his laughing friends steer him away. “We just picked him up from CAMH,” one says.
“Do you take requests?” A older man and a younger one, slightly unkempt, are standing there. “If I know the song but I’m pretty new at this.” They introduce themselves as Mike and Jay and ask for Led Zeppelin and Def Leppard. Unfortunately I can’t play much of either at the moment but I play them a little Nirvana while Mike listens attentively and Jay stares out into space. Jay tells Mike to stop hitting on me and leans in. “I was the guitarist for KISS and Zeppelin you know.” I offer him the guitar. “No, you’d have to pay me!” Sorry dude, but I need the grocery money.
Earnings: $37.80 (including 45 pennies, and 55 cents American - FAWMstock fund! There was also a vintage TTC token. My busker's license has now paid for itself.)
Expenses: $3.50 ($2.50 to get there and $1.00 to a homeless man)
I’d like to reclaim my Yonge & Bloor spot from Sunday but there are uniformed youth on three of the four corners collecting for something. When I cross the street, a soft-spoken girl on the SW corner asks me if I’d like to support the Navy. I am confused. Why can’t the federal government support the Navy? Why does the Navy use kids to fundraise? Why are they on so many corners at once? You thought you could cross the street to get away huh? NOT SO!
I walk south on Yonge to Wellesley (that’s the next subway stop and for the non-Torontonians); they’re there again. “Excuse me,” I say to a young Asian man in the uniform, “but are you guys at all the major intersections?” He is pretty sure that there’s no one at College (next one south) so I keep walking. The stores right around there were vandalized pretty badly during the G20 summit. There’s a Starbucks at the corner and I’m remembering the smashed windows…
“Hey, I know you!” A tall black man who had been leaning against the wall jumps out at me. Weirdo. I give him a suspicious look and keep walking. “No, really! I was on that bus with you, York Mills, on Election Night!” Actually, that was true – I’d been working at Thornhill’s election office until very late that night and we had sat at the bus stop together talking about the election while we waited for a 24 hour bus. “So, are you doing anything later? I live right there, we could...” “Thanks, but I’m just going to busk for a little while and then head home.” He insisted on giving me some change to help me get started after I told him that I didn’t do private concerts. Oh man.
I set up on the southwest corner and quickly realized that I have placed myself by a subway entrance and a streetcar stop. This makes me a little nervous – there are lots of people waiting for the streetcar and I feel as though I shouldn’t repeat songs until they’re gone. I’m also not crazy about putting commuters in an awkward position, making them feel as though they have to give me something if they’ve been standing for a while. I figure it’s part of the learning process and decide to stay and see how it goes.
A man drops some change in and introduces himself. He’s visiting from San Francisco and I think it’s neat that I’m contributing to his impression of Toronto. I ask him if he likes it and he says he does, but that he could never live here because of the snow. He shudders, a typical response for a Californian, I guess. He stands by and listens, and then throws some more change in because “it looks as though not many people are giving you money.” Shortly after that, a professionally dressed woman thanks me and throws in a $5 bill! She jumps onto a streetcar before I can say anything. Another woman smiles and dumps her change purse into my case. Pennies fall like rain.
“What’s your name?” An older man with a Canada shirt wants to play 20 questions. He parks his cart directly in front of me and interrogates me. “Where are you from? Where did you go to school?” His name is Avi, and it turns out that three of his four children went to the same university I did. I tell him what my degree is and he shakes his head sadly. “What you have to do,” he mutters, “is go to Vocational Services on Kennedy Street. Ministry of Social Services. They will pay for you to get retrained and go back to school.” He rummages in his pocket and pulls out of a quarter. “I know this won’t help much,” he says. “But good luck to you.” I assure him that there’s more to busking than money and watch as he crosses the street.
I play “Hallelujah” as a man in jeans and a red and white plaid shirt comes over. He says that he kind of knows the song and I tell him that he can sing if he wants to. He joins in for a chorus and then his laughing friends steer him away. “We just picked him up from CAMH,” one says.
“Do you take requests?” A older man and a younger one, slightly unkempt, are standing there. “If I know the song but I’m pretty new at this.” They introduce themselves as Mike and Jay and ask for Led Zeppelin and Def Leppard. Unfortunately I can’t play much of either at the moment but I play them a little Nirvana while Mike listens attentively and Jay stares out into space. Jay tells Mike to stop hitting on me and leans in. “I was the guitarist for KISS and Zeppelin you know.” I offer him the guitar. “No, you’d have to pay me!” Sorry dude, but I need the grocery money.
Earnings: $37.80 (including 45 pennies, and 55 cents American - FAWMstock fund! There was also a vintage TTC token. My busker's license has now paid for itself.)
Expenses: $3.50 ($2.50 to get there and $1.00 to a homeless man)
Monday 9 May 2011
Starting is the hardest part
Day 1: May 8th, 2011, 7:30pm-9:00pm (approx), SW Corner of Yonge & Bloor.
I didn't actually intend to busk today, but it's sunny and gorgeous out and I have a new song in my head that I can't stop playing ("Landslide", covered by the Dixie Chicks). As I am heading out, a friend calls asking if I can help him pick flowers for his mom. At the shop, I buy some for my grandmother at the same time and to her hospital downtown. It's 7:30pm by the time I leave her, too late to walk further into the core, so I set up at the Yonge & Bloor intersection.
I've only busked once before in my life and that first time I found that the beginning to be the hardest. Until someone acknowledges you, you feel slightly invisible. I'm not looking forward to that feeling this time and I even have a few coins in my pocket just in case. I choose my spot and quickly set up and see that a little girl and her father have stopped to listen. I start to play Landslide as he presses some change in her hand. She dances and twirls through the whole song as he smiles and at the end, asks where he can find me online. So much for the uncomfortable feeling.
A man drops some change in and requests "Imagine". I haven't memorized that one yet, but I get through a verse and a chorus as he smiles approvingly. "You're not a real guitar player until you can play that song," he says. I tell him I'll work on it. He points down Bloor Street toward Varsity and told me that John Lennon played right there. He asks if I can play "give peace a chance" and starts singing it, but I don't know that one and can't pick the chords out of his singing.
I get into a longer conversation with a middle-aged man, who introduces himself as Dave. He tells me that he is only now returning to Toronto from Fort Erie after being born here and living here for less than a year. He loves this city, and I agree with him. A homeless man walks by and asks for change; I give him a dollar. Several people take a good look at my busker's license and ask I got it (this link is a good start). One man walking by asks me if I give guitar lessons, and I tell him I'm not that good yet. A cab driver waiting for the light to change rolls down the window to listen, and gives me a thumbs up.
A youngish man walks comes by smoking a cigarette invites me to dinner. I decline politely, and he asks if I would mind if he hung around to listen while he finished his cigarette. I tell him I don't mind but warn him he'd start hearing repeats. I'm secretly glad to be upwind of the smoke. After another song, he thanks me and starts to walk away before turning around and asking if I was sure about dinner.
I sing Edelweiss, looking up at the moon and thinking about my grandfather (I sang that song at his funeral), smiling big time as a man walking by with a few of his friends joins in for a few bars. "That is totally my song!" I tell him it's one of mine too.
Earnings: $24.04
Expenses: $6.00 (TTC fare + change given to homeless man)
I didn't actually intend to busk today, but it's sunny and gorgeous out and I have a new song in my head that I can't stop playing ("Landslide", covered by the Dixie Chicks). As I am heading out, a friend calls asking if I can help him pick flowers for his mom. At the shop, I buy some for my grandmother at the same time and to her hospital downtown. It's 7:30pm by the time I leave her, too late to walk further into the core, so I set up at the Yonge & Bloor intersection.
I've only busked once before in my life and that first time I found that the beginning to be the hardest. Until someone acknowledges you, you feel slightly invisible. I'm not looking forward to that feeling this time and I even have a few coins in my pocket just in case. I choose my spot and quickly set up and see that a little girl and her father have stopped to listen. I start to play Landslide as he presses some change in her hand. She dances and twirls through the whole song as he smiles and at the end, asks where he can find me online. So much for the uncomfortable feeling.
A man drops some change in and requests "Imagine". I haven't memorized that one yet, but I get through a verse and a chorus as he smiles approvingly. "You're not a real guitar player until you can play that song," he says. I tell him I'll work on it. He points down Bloor Street toward Varsity and told me that John Lennon played right there. He asks if I can play "give peace a chance" and starts singing it, but I don't know that one and can't pick the chords out of his singing.
I get into a longer conversation with a middle-aged man, who introduces himself as Dave. He tells me that he is only now returning to Toronto from Fort Erie after being born here and living here for less than a year. He loves this city, and I agree with him. A homeless man walks by and asks for change; I give him a dollar. Several people take a good look at my busker's license and ask I got it (this link is a good start). One man walking by asks me if I give guitar lessons, and I tell him I'm not that good yet. A cab driver waiting for the light to change rolls down the window to listen, and gives me a thumbs up.
A youngish man walks comes by smoking a cigarette invites me to dinner. I decline politely, and he asks if I would mind if he hung around to listen while he finished his cigarette. I tell him I don't mind but warn him he'd start hearing repeats. I'm secretly glad to be upwind of the smoke. After another song, he thanks me and starts to walk away before turning around and asking if I was sure about dinner.
I sing Edelweiss, looking up at the moon and thinking about my grandfather (I sang that song at his funeral), smiling big time as a man walking by with a few of his friends joins in for a few bars. "That is totally my song!" I tell him it's one of mine too.
Earnings: $24.04
Expenses: $6.00 (TTC fare + change given to homeless man)
Sunday 8 May 2011
The Obvious Questions
When I encounter buskers playing on the streets of Toronto or in the TTC, I often wonder about their stories. For those who have walked by and wondered, but haven't asked, here is mine.
Who are you?
I'm Debs, born and raised in Toronto, (more specifically a suburb of it though I live closer to the core these days). I have a psych degree which has led me down job avenues completely unrelated to psych. I read and knit and someday soon, I'll paint. I'm a people person so don't be surprised if I smile and make eye contact when you pass by. And if you stop to talk to me, that's great!
Musically I am a singer-songwriter wielding guitar, ukulele, piano, flute and bass. I've been writing for about 4 years many, many styles, but my overall tendency is toward folk, rock and jazz. I also indulge my geeky side as the more pragmatic half of the duo Debs and Errol, specializing in music for the geek soul.
Why are you busking?
The short answer is because I love it.
The slightly longer answer is that I probably wouldn't be busking if I hadn't recently lost my full time job. As difficult as that was, it's helped propel me out of a stuck place and into a new (but scary!) place where have more time to do the things I love. And this is what I love.
Where else can we find you?
Thanks for asking! If you're interested in my original music or in upcoming shows, visit DeborahLinden.com (soon to be revamped), or my Facebook Fanpage. For all things Debs and Errol, check out DebsandErrol.com.
Who are you?
I'm Debs, born and raised in Toronto, (more specifically a suburb of it though I live closer to the core these days). I have a psych degree which has led me down job avenues completely unrelated to psych. I read and knit and someday soon, I'll paint. I'm a people person so don't be surprised if I smile and make eye contact when you pass by. And if you stop to talk to me, that's great!
Musically I am a singer-songwriter wielding guitar, ukulele, piano, flute and bass. I've been writing for about 4 years many, many styles, but my overall tendency is toward folk, rock and jazz. I also indulge my geeky side as the more pragmatic half of the duo Debs and Errol, specializing in music for the geek soul.
Why are you busking?
The short answer is because I love it.
The slightly longer answer is that I probably wouldn't be busking if I hadn't recently lost my full time job. As difficult as that was, it's helped propel me out of a stuck place and into a new (but scary!) place where have more time to do the things I love. And this is what I love.
Where else can we find you?
Thanks for asking! If you're interested in my original music or in upcoming shows, visit DeborahLinden.com (soon to be revamped), or my Facebook Fanpage. For all things Debs and Errol, check out DebsandErrol.com.
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