So we’ve got some time off. I’ll be spending the majority of it up in Brooklyntown. What better place to spend three weeks of not making any money than one of the most expensive places I’ve been to. It’ll be alright though. I honestly can’t remember the last time I spent three or more weeks in the same town. That’s crazy. Not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. It just is. I won’t have to pack a bag. Won’t have to sit in a car for hours on end. Won’t have to wonder where I’m gonna sleep on any given night. I have a feeling I’ll get a little stir crazy after a week or so. It’s a social experiment. Wait. No it’s not. It’s the opposite of that.
Exciting things are happening. We’ll be packing up for a move to a new apartment over in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. A bit smaller place, but in a nicer neighborhood and closer to Manhattan. And it has a deck! And I’m not talking about a fire escape that we’ll be calling a deck. But an honest-to-goodness, big old roof deck. Perfect timing too, as the seasons are about to shift. I can picture it now: Sitting on the deck at the crack of noon, coffee and guitar in hand, gazing across the East River at the chaos of the city…It’s gonna be sweet. I might have to write a song about it. We’ll call it Roof Deck. Maybe Amanda will co-write it with me.
Anyone live up there in NYC and want to pay me to do something? I’m for hire. You name it, I’ll do it. I’ll most likely just do a good amount of busking in the subways. And in the parks if the weather is good. For those who don’t know, “busking” is an old term for street performing. The very first time I busked in the subway was an experience. First of all, there were players all over the place. It was a challenge to find a spot with plenty of foot traffic where my tunes wouldn’t clash with another artist. At least that what I thought was s’posed to happen. I’d been playing for about forty five minutes, had made a little dough (let’s just say it was in the high teens….actually low teens), when outta nowhere this dude stands about thirty feet away from me and starts unpacking his sax. Needless to say, he blew me out of the water. (Get it? Saxophone? Blew me out of the water? That’s funny.) I toyed with a few ideas. Go someplace else and continue playing. Go closer to him and try to force him out. Go over and try to collaborate with him. Or pack up and leave. As coincidence would have it, I had to use the facilities in a pretty bad way so I said screw it and went to find a can. And then I just headed out. It was an eye opening experience to say the least. So in the upcoming weeks look for me pickin’ and grinnin’ in the underbelly of NYC.
