So quiet, I took one look at the forlorn performance area in the deserted vestibule and headed back eastbound. My official schedule of stations makes for interesting travel around the city, but stops such as Ossington may be worthwhile only at rush hour. Despite my best intentions, I don't seem to be turning into a rush-hour busker. (More of a meandering-hour busker, I guess.)
Where should I go, I wondered? Maybe not Pape--could be too much of a good thing. Yonge & Bloor is probably taken. How about Bay?
I like Bay station because the performance area is located in a long corridor, allowing people to listen for a longer time. Also, because so many people work nearby on Bay Street, in Yorkville and at Yonge & Bloor, I thought I might capitalize on the lunchtime crowd.
I noticed a particular reflex action of mine today, which I tried to correct but found I couldn't. Every time people passed by me, I automatically turned my head to watch them walking away. It wasn't that I was pining after them; they were just interesting to watch (more interesting than the tiled wall in front of me, anyway.) In order to avoid looking disappointed, I made an extra effort to appear cheerful.
In general, people didn't seem to be very interested today, but the people who were were wonderful. They included a man who told me he couldn't hear me very well (which was interesting because I thought I was too loud at times, and even turned down my amp), but who gave me two dollars anyway. When I said "Thanks for the donation", he said "It's not a donation...it's payment!" As he left, he said "enjoy it"--and I didn't think he meant the toonie. I think he meant the music and the day.
Sometimes, when I think I'm performing particularly well, I feel that people are rewarding me for a job well done. Other times, I feel they're lifting me up when I'm needing support. This was definitely true today when I tried a cover song I play from time to time, Ian North's "Beautiful City", and couldn't get the chord changes right. I was not doing justice to this beautiful song, and was about to end it rather gracelessly, when a woman dropped some change into my case, saying "keep playing that good music, Darlin."
So I played a little longer. During that time, I ran into two other subway musicians, John, whom I hadn't seen for several months, and Roger Ellis. All of us are feeling relieved that it's finally March and getting warmer. My favourite moment today came when an elderly man gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up during my song "Feels Like Spring". At Bay Station today, few people seemed to be noticing the content of the songs I played, and I wondered whether this particular one was registering with anyone...but it clearly did with this fellow.
He was beaming at me over his shoulder, thumb still held high in the air, with a twinkle in his eye that was positively infectious. (I might not have noticed, if I hadn't been watching him walking away.)
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