Days of Shades

Back from a long sunny Folklife weekend. I was so tired going up Saturday I thought it'd be a bust, and except for a Quebecois jam in the morning I barely played, but I slept really well in my parents' Posh Suite*, and got my busking spot bright and early Sunday morning. The vendors around me were GREAT -- really personable, appreciative, caring. There was a really cute girl doing coin-op ballet for hours who looked absolutely shot, and they tried to make sure she kept hydrated. Sylvia (of Sylvia Swasey Designs) even gave me a hand warmer when my Reynaud's kicked in...turns out she's a fellow sufferer. Her daughter is just starting violin, and was a great audience.

The other neighbor-vendor was David Kaynor, who isn't this David Kaynor, but his third cousin. They only discovered each other at Folklife, because of all the people like me who ask "So, do you know you have the same name as this fantastic contra dance caller?" The Artist-David-Kaynor was really friendly. He's also an Olympian. He runs an art show every year two blocks from my house.

Dad and I brought along a bunch of shaky eggs, and when little-littles stopped to listen, we had them join in. I think one in fifteen had rhythm, but we're talking two and three year olds, here. Most of them were just amazed that they were Making Noise With the Musicians. We had the biggest line-up of guest-artists under 2 foot 6 at folklife.

I used a LOT of Quebecois tunes busking for the first time, mostly because I needed a change from same ol-same ol, and I think it went over well. They're really cheerful, perfect for bright festival days, and the rhythms are just odd enough that people stop and listen. Dad's learning to play to crooked tunes, too, but he basically has to learn each one instead of just 'jig' or 'reel', which is tough on a drummer. :)

Hung out with westrider, Ran into lots of Fiddletunes buddies and Bellingham buddies, and had lunch with Rob and Terri, my Bellingham parents. The jams in the hospitality suite were great, and made up for not dancing at all (Sat and Sun I was too footsore, Monday Erik came up and wasn't up for it).

Correction for the general public: I wore my coin scarf, and all weekend people told me I couldn't sneak up on anyone. This is incorrect! I could sneak up on Morris Men. It's a bad idea, however, because Morris Men carry sticks.



*My folks booked a hotel room two blocks from the center, and when they got there they found it was a hotel suite, so I slept on the fold-out in their living room. The next night I stayed with my cousin Kelsey, after finding out that the car my fam let me borrow had a broken seat adjustment and was permanently adjusted for my 5'10" brother, NOT the 5'4"-when-very-straight me. A rolled up blanket booster-seat got me safely to Chateau Too-Good in the Ballard/Phinney area.

I keep saying I'll write letters to the Oly Farmers' Market people about various things, and then I don't. So I did!

( Letter the Farmers' Market )

The dastardly plot is to start with this and then move up to buskers rights, or less dramatically, "Please let me play at the market for more than an hour at ten a.m. when it's cold out, and please don't let the palm readers and balloon man chase me away, 'cause they're scary." Busking activism does NOT tend to go over well, so I'm starting with the issue that is more obviously for the greater good of all.