Earning your supper.
Happy belated Canada Day and Independence Day to all!
First, Canada Day was a wonderful day this year. Hard hard work, but a visit from a reader (madfishmonger !) was a wonderful surprise at the first show of the day. Thank you for making the trek out and making yourself known!
The morning of Canada Day is always the scariest and most exciting morning of the year for most street performers. You have what appear to be endless crowds, the feeling in the air is one of celebration and you are an accessory to the fun to be had. But the yang of course- The second that you feel the raindrop touch the back of your neck, anytime you feel the sun disappear behind the clouds, when you hear a band start up at a stage nearby, you can literally hear your paycheque slipping away.
This year, there was little to worry about. The first show started with such an buzzed, loud crowd so I cranked out the energy to hopefully meet my audience there and boy did they ever respond. My colleague (whom I'll call Jeck) and I carved out a wedge of pavement and cranked out show after show after show, fueled on adrenaline and excitement. We fed our audiences, they fed us back, and ultimately fed our hats at the end of the day. I was joined by Nikki who was fighting a pretty heavy bout of stomach flu, but still stuck with me (bless her heart) for the first couple shows but eventually elected to get a ride home.
There are so many variables within yourself to consider when you're doing a street show, and a host more of them that you have no control over. If it's raining, obviously not many people will want to be outside. If it's incredibly windy, it puts a limit on the things you can safely do if you or any props are up in the air. If there's not enough foot traffic, no one will stop. If it's cold, people won't want to stand around too long. If it's too hot, people are lethargic and won't want to be in the sun. There are a plethora of things to be considered and acknowledged as you plod through your show.
It's nice to have a day where you don't have to worry about any of that, because it happens so rarely- And so onwards we went, Jeck and I, making the pavement our own show after show. At the end of the day, five shows later there I stood at the top floor of the parkade, leaving as everyone else arrived for the fireworks to cap off our national holiday. My back ached. My calves cried for mercy. My neck was stiff and my shoulders were in a considerable state of distress. Salty sweat caked my forehead,and the faint smell of kerosene and victory exuded from my fingertips. My bag was full of my day's take.
One final lift as I hoisted my seventy pound bright red case and twenty five pound amplifier into the waiting trunk of the car. My spine did not telescope. A good sign. Jeck and I left, and found a lounge far enough away from all the chaos, from the party, from the festivities we had been a part of all day. The waitress came and gave us what felt like the best service in the universe.
And you know what? I ordered a steak. Blue cheese and mushrooms. Baked potato. The frostiest beer I've ever had. I'm allowed.
I get up to settle my bill, reaching around to rub the back of my own neck. I close my eyes and face the ceiling.
"Had to work today?" I snap back to facing forward. The waitress looks at me, waiting for a response.
"Yep. Long day. Was at the...." I stutter for a second. It's so strange to describe my work. "... I was at the job site for thirteen hours today." I reply.
"Too bad. Sure was a great Canada Day." she replies.
"I love work-" I stop, she's very nice but I just want to get home to bed. I can barely stand. "... It was a great day indeed, I agree."
"You guys have a great night!" she enthuses to Jeck and I.
"My great night includes going straight to bed!" I joke. Lame, but I'm fried. It's all I've got. She giggles, and goes back behind the bar as we get ready to leave. My bill is 50 dollars. I reach into my "hat" bag and leave a 25 dollar tip. Jeck notices.
"Karma." I grin. In the parking lot, Jeck shakes my hand.
"Good work today." he says.
"No shit. You too."
With that, my car unlocks as I poke the keyfob. I slowly ease myself in, the engine roars and I start heading home as the sounds of unseen distant fireworks pierce the night air.
First, Canada Day was a wonderful day this year. Hard hard work, but a visit from a reader (madfishmonger !) was a wonderful surprise at the first show of the day. Thank you for making the trek out and making yourself known!
The morning of Canada Day is always the scariest and most exciting morning of the year for most street performers. You have what appear to be endless crowds, the feeling in the air is one of celebration and you are an accessory to the fun to be had. But the yang of course- The second that you feel the raindrop touch the back of your neck, anytime you feel the sun disappear behind the clouds, when you hear a band start up at a stage nearby, you can literally hear your paycheque slipping away.
This year, there was little to worry about. The first show started with such an buzzed, loud crowd so I cranked out the energy to hopefully meet my audience there and boy did they ever respond. My colleague (whom I'll call Jeck) and I carved out a wedge of pavement and cranked out show after show after show, fueled on adrenaline and excitement. We fed our audiences, they fed us back, and ultimately fed our hats at the end of the day. I was joined by Nikki who was fighting a pretty heavy bout of stomach flu, but still stuck with me (bless her heart) for the first couple shows but eventually elected to get a ride home.
There are so many variables within yourself to consider when you're doing a street show, and a host more of them that you have no control over. If it's raining, obviously not many people will want to be outside. If it's incredibly windy, it puts a limit on the things you can safely do if you or any props are up in the air. If there's not enough foot traffic, no one will stop. If it's cold, people won't want to stand around too long. If it's too hot, people are lethargic and won't want to be in the sun. There are a plethora of things to be considered and acknowledged as you plod through your show.
It's nice to have a day where you don't have to worry about any of that, because it happens so rarely- And so onwards we went, Jeck and I, making the pavement our own show after show. At the end of the day, five shows later there I stood at the top floor of the parkade, leaving as everyone else arrived for the fireworks to cap off our national holiday. My back ached. My calves cried for mercy. My neck was stiff and my shoulders were in a considerable state of distress. Salty sweat caked my forehead,and the faint smell of kerosene and victory exuded from my fingertips. My bag was full of my day's take.
One final lift as I hoisted my seventy pound bright red case and twenty five pound amplifier into the waiting trunk of the car. My spine did not telescope. A good sign. Jeck and I left, and found a lounge far enough away from all the chaos, from the party, from the festivities we had been a part of all day. The waitress came and gave us what felt like the best service in the universe.
And you know what? I ordered a steak. Blue cheese and mushrooms. Baked potato. The frostiest beer I've ever had. I'm allowed.
I get up to settle my bill, reaching around to rub the back of my own neck. I close my eyes and face the ceiling.
"Had to work today?" I snap back to facing forward. The waitress looks at me, waiting for a response.
"Yep. Long day. Was at the...." I stutter for a second. It's so strange to describe my work. "... I was at the job site for thirteen hours today." I reply.
"Too bad. Sure was a great Canada Day." she replies.
"I love work-" I stop, she's very nice but I just want to get home to bed. I can barely stand. "... It was a great day indeed, I agree."
"You guys have a great night!" she enthuses to Jeck and I.
"My great night includes going straight to bed!" I joke. Lame, but I'm fried. It's all I've got. She giggles, and goes back behind the bar as we get ready to leave. My bill is 50 dollars. I reach into my "hat" bag and leave a 25 dollar tip. Jeck notices.
"Karma." I grin. In the parking lot, Jeck shakes my hand.
"Good work today." he says.
"No shit. You too."
With that, my car unlocks as I poke the keyfob. I slowly ease myself in, the engine roars and I start heading home as the sounds of unseen distant fireworks pierce the night air.