All around with Doggie Jomo

The variety of shows I've done in the past few days is pretty cool; I played at a Mental Health facility for Bread and Roses, a Wake at a Bar in Oakland (with my pal Doggie Jomo - pictured above - on the house Piano, Captain Mike on Harp, Pat Quinn on Bass and Travellin' Joe on drums - all unplugged), a Birthday party in the City, and the Blues Brunch at Travellin' Joe's Home Cafe in Berkeley.

A good time.

http://youtu.be/mK3WcDhvzp4?list=FLxVoo0cWtVjljJO3KqAi64g

Conflict in Covent Garden

Years ago, I lived and performed in London, England for a while.

One of the best venues for "al Fresco" music at that time was the courtyard at Covent Garden - a spot with auditions and a schedule, not unlike the current situation at San Francisco's Del Monte Square.

A popular act there was a group of 5 Chinese musicians, playing traditional Chinese instruments. They always seemed to be on the schedule - I mean nearly every day. Often written in as a substitute, but - much more often than anyone else.

I found out why. One day, after my set, a LARGE west indian fellow came up to me, and handed me 25 quid, and told me that the Chinese Musicians were buying my next date - and that I was not to come back after that. His manner was grave, and serious. I looked him in the eye, and he had trouble meeting mine. I asked him "Is this what it sounds like?" and he informed me that I did, indeed, have the right idea, and that he hoped we could avoid any physical unpleasantness.

Over a Busking Pitch!

I laughed at him, told him fine, just fine, no problem, and to report back to his "employers " that I wouldn't show up at Covent Garden any more - but that if they ever had a chance to travel to America, they'd better avoid Philly. He laughed, actually relieved, and said that he would tender my message and my fondest regards.

Al Fresco music

Here's a typical scene, taken last summer at the El Cerrito Farmer's Market, just a few blocks from my home.

After a week of inactivity, I spent a few hours yesterday busking on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley - the East Bay's hip strip. You'd expect it to be good pickings for al fresco music, but it's a noisy street with delivery trucks, and a reputation as an "Open Air Insane Asylum" - latter day hippies wander by with drums, guitars, and whatever else they pick from the local middens. As a chance to get my voice back in shape, though, it's great - I have to sing LOUD to be heard. It also gives me a chance to catch up with a few of my friends who are street vendors there.




El Cerrito

Rainy day activity / Vs. the String Witch.

A few months ago, someone suggested I start one of these to record my busking and performing adventures.

I'm not convinced that I have many days that would count as adventures in most reader's minds. However, I've had a sore throat all week, and it's a wet day out, and so.

Many years ago, I was busking in the underground concourse in Philadelphia - specifically, in a glass tunnel adjacent to a broad, columned gallery that led to the trains to New Jersey. The acoustics were stunning, and the spot had long been the main venue of a blind woman with a seeing eye dog, who played fingerstyle guitar and sold cassettes. She and I had had a few unfriendly encounters .

She was nowhere to be seen when I scouted the place, so I opened my case, tuned up and set to. I was really enjoying the natural reverb of the spot.

This would have been the early eighties, so I would have likely been wearing a black leather jacket and steel toed engineer boots, black jeans and t-shirt, and a belt with a skull buckle. My guitar would have either been a cheap plywood dreadnought or the Martin D - 18 I aquired during that period. Hair - probably quite shaggy.

Anyway, after just a little while, she showed up and demanded that I vacate her spot. I informed her that there was no plaque with her name on it, and that I had gotten there first. She blustered a bit and withdrew. To a spot a short distance away, where she and her dog - just waited. Within sight.

I broke a string. Always prepared with spares, I changed it. And immediately broke the spare. Which I replaced with a string of close dimensions. Which also - instantly - broke.

I had enough money in my case to buy strings. I never played that spot again, and I kept well clear of that surly blind busker.