Travels With Brindle

I'm thinking about recording an album of songs about dogs for the RPM Challenge in February. When I started to put together a list of dogs who could be the subjects of my songs, legendary Trenton Thunder bat dog Chase That Golden Thunder made the list early. When the news of his death in 2013 made the news, Gentleman Caller showed me a compilation of his at-bats (including some of his late-in-life appearances). The story stuck with me as I started writing songs, if only because "Chase That Golden Thunder" is a great song title. After writing the entire song on Tuesday, I rewrote the lyrics for "Chase" on Wednesday morning. The original draft made Chase into a commodity that the team bought to boost ticket sales, and it skipped directly from his first night on the job to his death. That didn't sit right with me, so I moved part of the second verse up to the first and spent the second verse writing about Chase's tasks as the bat dog. The bridge remains the same. This lyrics for this iteration of the song work better on a narrative level, but they're less technically smooth than the first draft. The last two lines of the first draft don't scan all that well, some of the transitions between verse and chorus are clunkier than they need to be, and while I need to address his death in the bridge, I could stand to depict it in a less tear-jerking way. If I actually make the dog album, and if I include this song on it, I want to work with an editor to help it sound better. (Lest I sound like I'm down on myself, I really like the melody.)

#52songs: As of this past Sunday, I've written 19 (!) original songs, with two more due this week. I've been using spare time at work to research and/or write verses for my songs and headed out to a park behind my office to practice and put music to my words. I'm posting new material on my YouTube channel every Thursday and Sunday and writing to themes I've gotten from online open mics. Busking: Better this month! I've had a semi-permanent pitch at City Hall Plaza every Tuesday and Friday after work. While I'm mostly performing 80s hits, I've also incorporated a half-dozen or so original songs into my busking set. Other performances: I performed at my first open mic last Tuesday, at the Burren in Davis Square. I've lost track of writing about my busking adventures here by accident, but I didn't write about my open mic experience on purpose. I blew it. I learned to prepare better, and when I have another opportunity to play at an open mic I'll have my songs down cold. #goals: I'm still working on getting added to the Boston Christmas Tree Lighting. (In fact, I emailed a talent booker today who helps select artists to play at the lighting.) At this point, there's not much I can do. I think our viral campaign gave me some visibility with the Parks Department, but unless I can think of another way to put myself over the top all I can do is wait. I'm distracting myself by writing material for a possible RPM Challenge album in February of 2018. I need to overcome some of my worst habits to do that.

If you're following me on social media, you know that my current goal is to play at the Boston Christmas Tree Lighting. Every year, Halifax sends a tree to Boston as thanks for Boston's role in the relief efforts following the Halifax Explosion. The story of Boston's involvement in these relief efforts is close to my heart; my great grand-uncle died in the explosion, and some of my ancestors helped with the aftermath. One of the first songs I wrote when I started #52songs was "Sister Cities", which was about the friendship between Boston and Halifax. I have recorded a studio version of "Sister Cities", which I will be releasing on Wednesday; I've also shot a video of a live performance, which I will be releasing on Twitter. One of the things I learned from my attempts to busk with Tim Kaine was that having content go viral doesn't always pay real-world dividends, and that getting in touch with the powers that be is a good idea. I've reached out to the Parks Department, to the mayor's office, and to the event sponsors to share my music and let them know I want to play! I have a slightly outrageous third plan, though. Mayor Marty Walsh plays a role in selecting the artists who perform at the Tree Lighting. I'm having a hard time getting him on the phone--which is understandable--but I still want him and the Arts Office to hear me perform. To that end, I will be busking at City Hall Plaza every day next week in the hopes that Mayor Walsh or the arts czar will hear me and take me into consideration. I will be donating half my tips to RAICES, an organization in Houston that works with undocumented families, and half to the Houston SPCA. The odds of my getting on the bill aren't great. The Parks Department gets 75 submissions for this event and only has six spots. However, I have to look for opportunities. Even if I don't get on the bill, I can at least raise some money for Houston and get more experience performing.

(I missed the August update...) The bad news is that I haven't had a chance to busk or play at any open mics. The past few months have been tough for playing. My current job eats up a lot of my energy and doesn't leave much time to get out and perform. Additionally, I've had some issues with anxiety. About a month ago, I almost got pickpocketed on the Red Line; my would-be assailant and her friends harassed me when I got off the train. I always have my guard up when I'm out now, and I've been scared to busk. The good news is that I've kept up my songwriting schedule. Since starting my #52songs project I've written 15 songs, most to prompts from Theme Music, Fifty Ninety, and Seasons of the Ukulele. I've gotten positive feedback on the songs I've written, and while not all of them are album-ready I'm proud that I set myself a goal and I'm sticking to it. Two of the songs I wrote were good enough for me to record. I went into Zumix Studio in East Boston on 20 August with my band, Travels With Brindle, and returned with proper recordings of "Sister Cities" and "21 Elephants". The recording experience was generally a positive one. I worked with a great crew and I was especially glad to collaborate with cellist Marshunda Smith. However, a project like a recording session can illuminate some of your best and worst tendencies. I started to realize that I fell into some unsustainable habits and have not always respected my cohort the way I should. I'm taking steps to be healthier and more responsible when I have opportunities like this. "Sister Cities" is about Boston's role in relief efforts following the Halifax Explosion. As you may know, 2017 marks the 100th anniversary of the explosion. My current goal is to play at the Boston Christmas Tree Lighting in November. After my experience attempting to busk with Tim Kaine, I learned that it's not enough for your work to go viral to be successful. I've started reaching out to the sponsors with MP3s of my songs and a pitch that--as a "fresh" up-and-coming talent--I would bring something good to the lighting. I also have a plan up my sleeve to get some love from City Hall. On a smaller level, I've also set a goal for myself to type out and notate my songs--and to possibly record guide MP3s on my iPad--so that if I have another opportunity to record I can work better with my band. That's where I'm at for August. Stay tuned for good news in September...

One of my Busking List bullet points has been to play on Comm Ave the day of a game. If you know me, this seems out of character: I hate crowds, Sox fans are terrifying, and I tend to wilt in the heat. As I've been busking, though, I've come to enjoy playing for unusual crowds, and playing for a bunch of sweaty dudes in snapbacks might be the last place you'd expect to see someone like me. Plus, baseball is practically a religion here in Boston, and for all my frustration with Sox fans I figured I could find common ground with a few of them. I got to Kenmore at 11am. While the platform was empty, I knew I'd be fighting with the train and passengers to be heard. Plus, after a week of overcast skies, playing en plein air seemed like a good idea. After I bought a bottle of water I set up a pitch in front of the 7-11, since it was out of the way of traffic but still audible. After I had set up, I realized that I was a few feet from two homeless people. I felt badly about this, but every other pitch was either in direct sunlight or in the way of foot traffic. I hope I didn't take much money away from either of those guys. The Fenway crowd was tough. I thinksome of it was me. My set has a lot of ballads and lesser-known songs by big artists, which might not engage Sox fans. Later on in my set I tried to win people over with "Sweet Caroline", which got mea few smiles but no tips. I also had a "fan" who stood a little too close to me and clapped and sang along. I looked at everyone on the street except for her, and she eventually left. The crowd wasn't entirely indifferent. When I wrapped for the day I made $11--over my goal, yay!--and made some new friends. My favorite part of my set was looking up and seeing a young couple slow-dancing to "I Melt With You". I felt as though I'd been beamed into the music video. I don't feel like I was successful enough at this pitch; I played for an hour and a half, but I didn't engage with the audience the way I hoped. I will have other opportunities, and I hope I will do better next time. In my continued search for a regular pitch I headed to Hynes Convention Center Inbound on Friday night. My last experiences busking at Hynes were fun, and I had high hopes for my third full set. My expectations lowered a bit when I got to the pitch and saw a fan and a recycling bag screwed to the ground. I understand why the T installs fans, and it's not to inconvenience buskers; at the same time, I was worried about how the fans would ruin the sound. (Plus, I hate how the T bolts the recycling bins to the floor.) I moved down the platform, out of view of the staircase. The set passed slowly. I started treating it like an open rehearsal, running through songs I'm playing at an open mic on Tuesday and practicing some new songs (like "In-Between Days"). I didn't pay much attention to a pack of teenagers with musical instrument cases until someone yelled out "YOU GUYS! Why aren't you TIPPING her?" A girl came forward and left a silver dollar in my case, and everyone else threw in change. This is one of the few times I haven't been offended when someone left pennies in my case. I'm guessing the kids were enrolled in a summer program at Berklee. As with my previous busking sessions, this set at Hynes felt good. (I especially loved seeing how people on the train reacted to me--lots of smiles and waves.) If I had to choose between Hynes and Copley for my regular pitch, Hynes would get it in a walk. However, the fans and the lack of accessibility to the pitch makes me want to try another station. This Friday I'm going to head back to Prudential for the first time in a year.

When I started thinking about busking this summer, the thought of setting up a regular pitch at SoWa Market crossed my mind. It's outside, it's well-attended, and it's in an affluent part of town--what's not to love? I finally had a nice Sunday morning free and decided to give SoWa a try. I got to the market at noon and set up my pitch on the right side of the market. After tweeting my location I started playing my 1980s set. A lot of people smiled at me, and I was thankful for their friendliness. No one tipped me in the first twenty or so minutes of my set, so I changed tactics and started playing a few of the contenders for the Song of 2017. I heard one girl whisper "I LOVE that song while I played some Troye Sivan, but still didn't get any tips. Since no one was paying attention to me, I figured I should play something I wanted to play, so I went back into the 80s set with "Erica's Word". In my dreams someone would walk up to me and say "I love that song! Game Theory are everything!"--even without a tip, that would get me through the set. I also started taking notice of the things around me, like the adorable dogs hanging out at the market and all the different people and summer fashions. (Without fetishizing too much, seeing gender-non conforming teens holding hands and canoodling makes me happy, both given when I grew up and what the world is like now.) Eventually a few tips trickled into my case. The most awkward tip of the day came from two elementary school aged girls, who watched me attentively as I played "Bizarre Love Triangle". I usually segue into "Your Love" by Outfield after that, but given the girls' age and precocity I started playing "How Far I'll Go" instead. Unfortunately, I forgot the chords, and after ambling through a few verses I went back to "Your Love" as soon as the girls were out of earshot. Naturally they doubled back and tipped me as soon as I got to the chorus. I wanted to play for an hour and a half, but my blood sugar started to flag around the hour mark. I wrapped up and headed to Cuppa Coffee for an egg pie and a flat white. I'm trying to be positive about this and say that I still have a month to make the money and (to quote Kurt Heasley) dimes make dollars. I want to find someplace--or a few someplaces--to busk on a regular basis to people who aren't entirely indifferent to my playing. :sigh:

On my birthday this year I made a few resolutions related to my music. I wanted to write and record a song a week for the different online ceidlhs/open mics I frequent; busk at least once a week; and try to play a few open mics. How are my goals coming along? #52songs: As of tonight I've written seven original songs (and will link to those when I'm not on my phone). Though I have a few stray ideas for original songs, I find that writing to theme helps me focus my ideas and allows me to write more quickly. I also like the feedback I get from sharing my music with groups like Seasons of the Ukulele and Theme Music. Of the songs I've written, four feel like good enough efforts to tweak and maybe eventually record. I'm hoping to record two of them as a digital single, and I have big plans for "Sister Cities". Music Mentorship: I signed up for a music mentorship program with Dylan Laine, a songwriter whose song sheets have helped me organize my thoughts and ideas. Having someone to whom I can be accountable has helped me recognize my shortcomings and how I can improve my practice. I admire Dylan's organization and her positive spirit; I also know that I write about some dark and weird things, and I may need to seek other mentors at some point. I also reached out to Katie Lott, a singer/songwriter in Nashville who leads songwriting classes and tutorials, for insight on how to improve "Sister Cities". Open Mics: I played "Can't Help Falling in Love" at JP Sings Elvis. While my performance wasn't a disaster, I could have done better. I didn't spend as much time rehearsing as I should have, and I mixed up one of the chord progressions and wasn't as in tune as I should have been. I signed up for JP Sings Finale, where I will be performing the original song "Postcards From Nowhere" and a cover of "Erica's Word" by Game Theory. Both of these songs are in my busking repertoire, so I should be good to go next week. Busking: I've fallen down a little at this. I started a new contract job after my birthday, and because my office is in a remote neighborhood and my job is demanding I haven't had a chance to get to the pitch as much as I'd like. I finally played a set in Harvard Square over the long weekend, and I'm looking for a regular pitch on the Green Line. Big goals: Not much movement on this front. Jonathan Richman hasn't announced his next Boston shows, and while I'm trying to get on the bill for the Boston Christmas Tree Lighting I haven't heard from anyone at the Parks Department. I have to keep plugging away at the small goals and hope the big ones come together.

About an hour into my set, the air in the station felt hot and thick, and I knew I’d start to feel faint if she kept playing. I wrapped things up and counted my dollars, and…I’m going to be positive and say that I made enough for half an hour of studio time. I’m heading back out on Sunday, and I hope I can make enough for the next half hour of recording time. Next week, though, I'm going to see how I fare at a different station.

It's been a month since I've been out busking. As thankful as I am for a new, full-time contract job, my schedule there hasn't allowed me to hit the pitch as frequently as I'd like, and I haven't been out to busk since Pride. The time I've taken to write songs has eaten the time I had to rehearse new busking material, and I was worried that I would sound awful when I returned to the pitch. I left the house early on a slightly less balmy Sunday morning and landed a decent pitch in Harvard Square; in front of the John August Harvard Store. My friend Sophie has had great luck busking near JP Licks, and since I just scheduled studio time for August I was hoping that luck would rub off on me. The streets were filled with people leaving brunch, and I had a good feeling about how the next hour or so would go. An Education First tour group had parked itself in front of the John August store within moments of my putting out my case. At first, this looked frustrating. A pair of Portuguese tourists had parked behind me, listening to a tinny tour guide app that was throwing off my playing. I asked them in English to turn down the sound or stand on the other side of the group. They didn't understand me, so I asked again--this time in my attempt at Portuguese. They nodded and wandered to the other side of the group, but not before leaving a few singles in my case. (I'm so glad a few members of my extended family speak Portuguese, if only for that moment.) A few other members of the group left some singles in the case and encouraged me. Two girls in their teens stood behind me while I played "Forever Young" and sang backup. When I finished playing it, they asked me if I knew "Can't Help Falling in Love". I told them I'd play it if they tipped me. They agreed to this, only to wander off halfway through the song. (YOU GUYS.) I also noticed a guy shooting some video of me while I was busting out "99 Red Balloons"; as I strummed the riff I said "YOU HAD BETTER PAY ME," and he was chuffed enough to leave some singles in my hat. This started a chain reaction of people leaving me money! I took a break after my Nuclear Annihilation Medley to look up some chords when a girl in a green dress came over to me, smiling and waving. She asked if I knew "Shut Up And Dance", which--lo and behold--I did. She sang along with me and then introduced herself; her name is Angel and she's working on a personal project, asking people of Harvard Square what they could change if they could. Since the summer months are migraine season for me (the humidity and barometric pressure messes with my brain chemistry), I talked to her about global warming as a public health issue. Making human connections like that make busking worthwhile for me, and I was happy to help Angel! After an hour and change of busking, I started to feel a bit dehydrated and decided to wind down my set. After the last chord in "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" rang out, I counted my money and saw that I had enough to pay for half an hour of studio time. I'm looking forward to getting back out there tomorrow and making more friends.

Many of my LGBTQIA+ friends have opinions about Pride, and I understand why they have those opinions. On the one hand, Pride represents a time for the community to come together and show their strength; on the other, Pride celebrations aren't always inclusive to trans* people, low-income folks, and people of color, and the encroaching corporatization is problematic. As a cis person in a heterosexual relationship, I get all those opinions, but the best thing for me to do is listen to my friends and elevate their voices. I knew that Boston Pride would be well attended, and since I haven't gotten my badge for busking on the T I haven't had a chance to busk. I miss it, and I decided that if I busked at Pride I'd donate my tips to the local nonprofit BAGLY. Bright and early on Saturday morning I headed to Copley Square, ukulele in hand and 80s tunes on the brain. I had a few ideas for where to set up my pitch, and my first choice--corner of Boylston and Dartmouth in front of the Bostix booth--was open. What I hadn't taken into consideration is that Pride is LOUD; I could hear the Ariana Grande from a block away. I was able to get a signal from my amp, but even at top volume I was barely audible. At the last minute I opted to go acoustic, but I was nervous about whether people could hear me. My corner was quiet enough that I could hear myself, and I launched into my customary opening song: "Top of the Pops" by the Rezillos. The corner was busy, but nobody hung around for long enough to listen. I faltered a bit with some of my new songs, so I understood why no one stuck around long enough to listen to me. I garnered some attention, though; a news photographer stopped for a photo, which inspired a few tourists to get me in their frame. People who take pictures without tipping annoy me a bit, and I wanted to give a hat line whenever someone pulled out their phone. That didn't feel right, so I kept singing and playing. I ran into some people I knew, like @prawnlegs and their coven; a girl I recognized from a job who said "I didn't know you played the ukulele!"; and a former friend who rolled his eyes at me as he passed. A drag queen passed me and yelled "WERQ", pointing at me as I played "Cherish" by Madonna, and I danced a little box step for her highness. Later on a teenage boy came over to me and talked ukulele shop before sprinkling some coins in my case. In spite of my friends' complicated feelings about Pride, I want to go back next year and play. I want to practice and make sure I'm ready. I don't expect to make much money, but I felt good about being in that crowd with such a great community.

I've been out of commission for a few weeks--a late renewal of my T busking license, a minor sore throat, a new job, and a spate of bad weather kept me off the streets and out of the subways. With Pride happening this weekend, though, I wanted to return to the pitch to make new friends and raise money for @bagly-blog. I learned a set of 1980s pop songs by LGBTQIA+ artists and their supporters as well as contemporary LGBTQIA+ acts, got to bed early last night, and got an early train into town so I could find a good pitch. I arrived at 9:30 to a Copley Square awash in music and color. The loud dance music thumping from one of the booths made me worry that I

After a year of planning, practicing, and playing, I played the final set of the MBTourA on 29 May at Park Street Station. I should feel happy, but my feelings about finishing this project are complicated. I chose Park Street as my final stop because of its renown in the busking community. Mary Lou Lord got signed on the strength of her performances here, and well-connected local buskers have invited Neil Young and Shawn Colvin to play on the center platform. I knew that when I played here I had to be at the top of my game--well rehearsed, confident, in good voice. The day before I played, I bought a converter for my Shure 55 so I could plug in. When I got to the stop, however, I found that I grabbed the wrong cord and was unable to use my amp. After a moment of frustration (in which I accused Gentleman Caller of mansplaining), I figured that I'd come all this way, and since this was one of the few times I had seen the platform unoccupied I figured I might as well play. There was a reason no one was playing at the station. While the station is generally busy, many Bostonians looked at the bad weather and long holiday weekend as an excuse to stay home. I played to a sparse crowd, and while I charmed a few cute kids out of their allowance I mostly had an open rehearsal. The myth of Park Street, with its record deals and generous patrons tipping the occasional Benjamin, distracted me from the reality of the station. It was loud and cold, and my small uke and voice was no match for the loud trains. An old man with red bruises blossoming across his face stopped me in the middle of "Here Comes Your Man" and said "I like your look, but a pretty girl like you should have an amp and a mic!" Loud patrons are an occupational hazard, but dealing with a mansplainer on top of the loud trains, diminishing returns, and the tickle in my throat told me it was time to hang up the set. My decision was made for me in the middle of one of the songs I use to close my set; in the midst of an empty platform, a woman stood next to me and ate a gross, smelly burger. Never one to shy away from passive-aggressive actions, I started improvising new, burger-centric lyrics to "Train in Vain": "That greasebomb smells so gross to me/Keep your burger away from me." I expected that when I finished this project I would feel sad. I do, but for different reasons: after all this work, ending on a flat note at the mother pitch in the mother pitch left me feeling disappointed. There wasn't the bittersweet emotion you get when I completed a project, but more of an "is that all there is?" feeling. Yesterday, while I was at work, I saw a video about Gabriel Meyers, a busker who plays on the subway in New York. His music is lovely, but his spirituality and attitude win me over. He does his best work in more sparsely-attended stations because "fishing is best where fewer go." As he talked about the connection he felt to his audience, I thought about how I did my best work at stations like Kendall and Sullivan, where I have more connection with the passengers. If this is all there is, then I'll keep busking. While I'm waiting for my T badge to arrive, I'll be busking in Kendall Square as time allows. I hope to see you there.

With my birthday on the horizon (eep) I'm starting to think about what I'd like to accomplish in the following year. I want to keep busking 2-3 times a week and write and record original songs, but what else? I keep a low overhead with my busking and have made back the money I invested in it. I have a few financial and marketing goals for the following year: • I want to set up a website with a dedicated domain (no travelswithbrindle.wix.com). I see this as a landing page for my other social media profiles (FB, IG, Twitter, YouTube, and SoundCloud) with a bio and some photos. (If anyone wants to get me a birthday gift, I'd love to have travelswithbrindle.com as a domain, wink wink.) I'd love to outsource the website to someone else, so if you have a design background, let's talk. • I'd like to get a hand-painted sign for the inside of my ukulele case. I'm stuck between wanting a mid-century moderne hand-painted sign and something that looks like graffiti or 1980s mall-kiosk airbrushing. If you can help me physically make the sign or paint it, let me know.

When I started the MBTourA, I decided that South Station and Park Street on the Red Line would be my last stops. Both stations are prominent enough that I thought I needed more experience before I played them. South is a difficult station to play because a few buskers tend to monopolize the busking area, and after a fellow busker called me a c*nt when I previously tried to play there I was worried about what would happen when I did get the pitch. Knowing that buskers descend on South the moment it opens, I set my alarm for 4am and scheduled a Lyft so I could get to the pitch before anyone else did. The ride put me in a good mood to play. I'm strictly a public transit rider, so I don't get to see some angles of the city that I don't normally get to see. Riding over the Zakim Bridge still gives me a thrill. The sun hadn't even risen over the city by the time I got to South and a few rough-looking dudes were milling around the entrance, and for a split second I was worried that I would show up as a hometown on an episode of @myfavoritemurder. When I went down by the turnstiles, though, I saw a few attendants getting the station ready, and a few minutes before 5am I swiped my pass and prepared myself for the next few hours. The Red Line doesn't start running until 5:30, and only a few people were on the platform. It was too early to want to bug people, so I started practicing a new song: "Hard Times" by @paramore. The strum pattern is a little harder than I expected, and since no one on the platform was in the mood to pay attention I figured I'd make use of the time. After my fifth or sixth pass through the riff--when I kept making the same friggin' mistake OMG--a tall, skinny dude in a polo shirt that fit like a tent came over to me and threw a few golden dollars into my case. Now that I knew someone was paying attention I started playing a few real songs that I'd rotated out of my set. The crowds picked up around 6am, so I started playing my punk/new wave/synth pop set in earnest. A few more golden dollars rained down on me, and I responded in kind by playing a half-assed version of "When U Were Mine" that probably made Prince plug up his ears in the hereafter. I went back to other songs that I could play better, and midway through "I Melt With You" I looked up and saw someone who looked familiar. He seemed to be into it, so I smiled and nodded the neck of my ukulele at him. When I finished playing, he came over and introduced himself. He was Drew O'Doherty, a local musician I know primarily through Twitter. I took a break to talk with him for a few minutes about some of our favorite topics (Boston! Shitty jobs! Hüsker Dü!). Like me, he has (had?) a milestone birthday this year, and when I told him about my goals for this project he nodded and said "savor it!" Good advice. Talking to Drew gave me a boost of confidence, and just talking--as opposed to singing or playing--allowed me to take a break and jump back into the set with renewed focus. After Drew got on the train I started the set from scratch. It's OK--I wanted to try some new things, and having that minute to focus on something else gave me the chance to regroup and try some new things. I was able to play "When U Were Mine" with more confidence, and I found some new connections among regular selections. (I wish my voice was a little less ragged, because the transition from "Sign of the Times" to "Forever Young" worked really well.) I got some guff, like the guy who stood in my eyeline blowing his nose (ew) before asking if I took requests. (I didn't know the song he requested, but if his money was in the same condition as his hanky...) I also got some great responses, like an elderly woman in a blue dress who placed a dollar in my case and said "thank you for starting my day with a song!" I also got a $5 from a lady who stopped, turned around, and smiled at me as I played. As I was winding down my set, local subway fixture Frankie J pulled up. I've run into Frankie here and there, and I like how positive and funny he is. He took down my Facebook page and said "I'm going to book a show and you're going to open it!" Other promoters have approached me with similar requests and nothing comes of them, but we'll see! I'm down to one last stop. I'm excited, but I'm sad that the goal I set for myself is almost complete. At the same time, though, I'm ready for the next adventure.

At the time I’m writing this, I’m between jobs; my most recent contract position ended two weeks ago, and I’ve been interviewing for a new position since. For the time being my busking is my main source of income. I haven’t started a Patreon yet–I want to have a few more originals under my belt before I do–but I have set up a Ko-Fi account for tips. If you like what I’m doing and you want to drop a virtual tip in my jar, I would greatly appreciate it! I hope to start a website in the coming months, and every little bit helps. If you can't--and I know this is a tough time for a lot of people--please share my work with someone who might appreciate it.

When I started the MBTourA, I hoped to end the year with a regular pitch where I could play a weekly set. I had a string of positive experiences at Kendall and Sullivan Stations. Both of them were close to my home, they were both stations where I spent a fair amount of time as a kid, and when I first busked there I got great responses to my music. (For those of you keeping score at home, Sullivan was also where I shot the #BuskWithTimKaine video.) As the year has wound down, I decided to start playing regular sets at these stations. My first busking sesh at Sullivan last year netted me a neat chunk of change, but I was also taken in by the responses from the crowd. People listened to and enjoyed the music I played, judging by the smiles and eye contact I got from the passengers. The station is a ten-minute bus ride from my home, and since there's a bus that would take me to the job where I just interviewed that leaves from that station, I decided to make that one of my regular pitches. While the pitch is in a good place for morning busking, the crowds have been so sparse over the past two weeks that I questioned whether this was the right place for me. That questioning ended within the first few minutes of my set, when someone slipped a dollar in my case as I ambled through "Let's Go". I'm starting to reorganize my set, since I realized that a few of the songs I grouped together for similar lyrical themes didn't work well together musically. This led me to include the new Harry Styles song--which I just covered for Theme Music--but I inadvertently left out a bunch of songs that I meant to play. (This was especially disappointing when I realized on my way home that I didn't have to repeat the first half of my set.) I'm at a bit of a transitional period with my busking, since I want to incorporate more 80s pop in my set, but I also know that playing contemporary pop hits by artists like Lorde, Alessia Cara, and--yes--Harry Styles will bring in more coin. (A lot of people who enjoy my busking are 14-year-old girls, and I want to make them happy.) I'd like to have a more cohesive ~concept for my busking, and I'm trying to figure out how to balance these things. In spite of these setbacks, and in spite of some of the dust bunny I swallowed due to the BIG-ASS FAN on the platform with me, I played a decent set. I made a few dollars, and was especially moved by the teenage boy who threw some golden dollars in my case and asked "is that a concert uke?" We talked shop for a few minutes, and even though he didn't have much confidence in his own playing I hope he keeps at it. I invited him to jam with me sometime; dude, if you're reading this, I wasn't kidding! This afternoon I kept up my weekly engagement at Kendall Station Outbound. As I write this I realized that I left out one song I wanted to play; "Bridges, Squares" by Ted Leo, which is about Kendall Square. I didn't forget to play anything else--thankfully--and I managed to get through the set in an hour and a half. I love playing Kendall because I see so many people I know; two of my swing dance pals waved at me, and my friend Leenah Bean high-fived me and left a few dollars on her way to look at an apartment. I also love the high ceilings and tiled walls at Kendall, which allow me to project without needing an amp. The crowds who I hadn't met left me a decent pile of money; when I counted my tips at the end of the night I found two $5 bills. Seeing people nod their heads to my music or smile at me as they passed made a real difference to me as well and inspired me to keep moving. I may have a lull in the next few weeks, as my MBTA busking badge won't get renewed for another week, but I'm hoping to busk outside Kendall Station in the meantime. On my way to Sullivan I learned the sad news about Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell. Obviously he had an incredible voice, but I was moved to learn about his philanthropic work on behalf of marginalized children. I will be donating the $27 I made busking to Big Brothers Big Sisters of Puget Sound in his memory.

Dear sir: I'm still a little gobsmacked by your gesture. I felt a little hoarse today, and after a week of working a prestigious new job I felt tired. However, when I started busking I knew I wanted to set up a regular pitch for myself, and since I went through the trouble of dragging my busking gear to the office with me I figured I might as well play a set. When I got to the station I suffered some minor indignities; I swallowed a hair ball while playing "Shut Up And Dance", and my skirt blew up while I was stuffing my tips into my case, causing one straphanger to catcall me. Since I'd been rehearsing a few songs that weren't quite in my wheelhouse I forgot the lyrics to a few tunes I'd been playing for almost a year. As the old saw goes, the show must go on, and as I smiled through my less ideal moments others smiled too. A young girl bopped her head to "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker", left the station, and came back to leave a single in my case; another guy in a polo shirt with the logo for a pharmaceutical company tucked two singles under the Hershey bar I keep in my case and said "VERY GOOD! I LIKE!" Even the people who didn't tip buoyed my spirits, like the mom and daughter who swayed to my rendition of the Sesame Street theme. But you, sir. Seeing you nod to my 1950s version of Bizarre Love Triangle made me happy. So many people just breeze past me that knowing my music resonated with you made me perk up. You crumpled up a piece of paper while I played, thinking you could sneaky-sneak away from me without your generosity going noticed. Because of the wind I had to be extra-vigilant with my tips, and when I saw that $10 bill in my case it took me out of the song in the best way possible. You couldn't have known that I was donating my tips to the Science Club for Girls--I was disappointed with what I made last week, and since MIT was right over my head I thought making a bigger donation would be a good idea. I can assure you that the money you threw in my case will have a longer life span than you might have thought. On a personal level, the fact that you thought my music was $10 good means a lot. So: thank you. I am humbled.