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Monday, April 10, 2006
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and whatever you do, absolutely no leo sayer.Catherine and I went apartment hunting in our area of choice today, driving around the streets and checking for vacancy signs on the towers and converted houses and squat flat-stacks that back into one another like a motley crew of office workers crammed awkwardly into an elevator.
There are the bohemian dwellings with rusty iron balconies and the whitewashed stucco of the fifties-era apartment blocks and the renovated and divided mansions and the modern concrete towers. And within any given block, you can find an example of each one, proudly standing as though it owned the neighbourhood.
We love it. It's exciting. Sure, it's work to find something decent in our price range. But looking is half the fun!
After our expedition, we took a quick walk to the beach, where I spotted a City of Vancouver ordinance sign regarding busking.
Before I go on, know this: I love busking. Even crappy busking. I love the idea of someone sitting out, playing whatever they think or want to play, and doing it while the world marches on around them.
Hell, I even paid that guy to play air violin.
Friends of mine have made hundreds -- even thousands -- of dollars making music on the streets, and I think it's absolutely an art form. And even if it's not, well... it's interesting.
Anyhow, back to the sign.
The City apparently has some busking guidelines that buskers are required to follow. If you wish to busk, you have to call the busking hotline, and get the dirt. They don't go into the details on the sign, preferring to be enigmatic and aloof.
I was incredulous. Can't they leave well enough alone?
Okay, okay... I can see that there would be noise ordinances and public nuisance restrictions. And sure, if everyone is throwing things at you and screaming obscenities, it might be time to choose another beach. Really, though, if you put down a bucket and play something and people want to toss you some change, I say, SO BE IT.
Nonetheless, I'd like to offer you my own busking guidelines. These rules are not endorsed by the City, but if they ever elect me Mayor on my platform of choice (two milk cartons and a plank of plywood), then this might just be what comes down the pike:
Meg's Busking Guidelines
(based on actual busking incidents I have witnessed)
When you make a dollar -- or a nickel, or a penny -- in your hat, don't immediately interrupt the song to go spend it. Use your guitar case or accordion case or your hat to collect the change. Don't say, "Here, honey, just shove it in my pocket." Don't yell, "CHEAP #%@$!" when people walk by without giving you any money. If someone begins singing along or dancing along, don't refuse to play until they stop, citing the fact that you are an artist as the source of your right to play without accompaniment. Clapping to a nonsensical beat with a dazed expression is not busking, and no, you cannot have my purse. Parking yourself next to a tape recorder playing Julio Iglesias is also not busking. Sitting cross-legged despite the fact that you've got a giant, gaping hole in the crotch of your pants might distract me from your gentle version of "Time In A Bottle." If you only know one song on the harmonica, and have to play it over and over, make sure it's not "Love Shack." If the cops ask you to move along, it might be funny to play, "I Fought the Law." Less wise, however, would be a few lines of "I Shot the Sherriff." Do not throw pennies at passing women.
Any other suggestions? Any good busking tales? Have you ever busked?
2:28:43 AM 
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© Copyright
2006
Meg Fowler.
Last update:
5/1/06; 1:35:52 AM. |
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it is a very sad thing that nowadays, there is so little useless information. ~ oscar wilde today's ooh! item:
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