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)