To Busk or Not to Busk, That is the Question!

To busk or not to busk, that is the question.  I choose to busk.  Today I busked in two different "underground railway" stations.  I spent the late afternoon and early evening playing my violin at the 16th Ave. and Mission BART station.  I really enjoy spending time in the Mission.  It is a great neighborhood with a colorful and proud Latino culture at it's core.  The most beautiful murals I've ever seen, and hundreds of them!  Almost every alley in the area has been transformed into an outdoor art gallery, depicting the rich history of this strong and nurturing community.

When you busk, you are never guaranteed a spot.  I don't believe in the concept of "turf" except for a few exceptions.  Always respect your elders...true.  Some of these guys have been busking these same streets and stations since I was in diapers.  Is it good to be tactful and friendly and polite when dealing with other buskers?  Definitely.  Matter a fact, the busking subculture is an amazing community with a free-spirit and a ton of talent and undying enthusiasm.  I've experienced that in every city I've ever busked.  Like a well kept secret, here are all these wonderful, and for the most part unknown, performing artists.  String quartets playing on street corners in Aspen.  A lone mandolin player playing daily in front of the historic Water Tower in Chicago, incidentally one of the only structures that survived the Great Chicago Fire of a hundred years ago.  You know the one that the cow started.  Young bluegrass bands in Madison, Wisconsin cutting their teeth on State Street and at the Farmer's Market that surrounds the Capital Building.  Countless old time and novelty string bands on every corner and even swinging from trees in Asheville, North Carolina where a young Jimmy Rodgers, the father of Country Music known as the singing brakeman, got his start performing in string bands eighty some odd years ago.  Here in San Francisco?  This is the most diverse and full-on busking subculture I've ever experienced.  Horn players on every other corner; full electric bands set up in front of big storefronts; celebrity-like bucket players; Mexican-American guitarists singing great harmonies; Chinese one-string cello players and even entire Chinese Orchestras in North Beach; territorial doo-wop a cappella groups; experimental neo-classical musicians;  jolly accordion players; high energy tap dance crews; and every other type of performance you could imagine, you just mind find on the streets of San Francisco.  I was hoping to peel back the layers a bit and expose this vibrant subculture.  I ended up becoming a part of it, through and through.  Now I have busking fever.  I can feel the experience making a marked difference in my life.  I can feel the experience making at least a small difference in the daily lives of at least one person a day, although my guess is that that number is perhaps much higher.  Perhaps a busker can brighten the lives of hundreds of people a day.  Maybe even thousands.

Today I walked from my North Beach haven all the way to the Mission.  It was a hot October day today, apparently summer comes in the fall in SF.  I stopped at the Civic Center station after my brisk walk through Chinatown and the Financial District.  I was looking for a "spot" that was semi-outdoors since it was a very warm and lovely day.  The BART stations in the Mission are all semi-outdoors with wonderful acoustic-friendly alcoves where the escalators transport people from street level to the concourse level.  The Civic Center station also has a nice semi-outdoor alcove which takes people to and from the United Nations Plaza.  The United Nations was founded in San Francisco and the city dedicated a plaza where farmers markets and arts and craft fairs take place.  So I took a look down into the alcove and saw not only "Scratchman", but the juggler who always drops the balls was down there too.  So off to the Mission I was, and on such a beautiful day a walk from 6th St. to 16th St. didn't seem like a terrible idea.  But first, who is this "Scratchman" that you speak of Fiddle Dave?

"Scratchman" is an infamous SF busker who essentially pretends to play the fiddle.  He produces only one tone, and that is one of ultimate scratchiness, and plays no notes.  Just scratches.  He really gets into it and fully immerses himself in this scratching.  I saw him the first day I busked in SF on the Fisherman's Wharf.  Him and "Bushman" are both old school street performance artists.  "Bushman" is a guy who hides behind a bush that he is holding and waits for unsuspecting tourists to walk by as they're strolling the Wharf.  Then he jumps out and with a goofy smile and an imitation lion's growl does his best to startle the passer-bys.

I've had a couple, slightly insane conversations with Scratchman in the past.  He liked it when I told him he was taking the tone of his fiddle to new limits.  Well, a couple weeks ago I had a very surreal, and absolutely laugh out loud hilarious "life imitating art" experience with the Scratchman.  It was a Wednesday morning and I was playing the United Nations Plaza alcove for the Farmer's Market people and the morning rush hour commuters.  Things were going well and I was in the zone.  People were responding positively to the music and that was encouraging me to play with more and more passion.  Next thing you know, I see Scratchman setting up in the concourse of the station.  For the next hour, Scratchman scratched along with every note I played with tremendous enthusiasm.  He was far enough away, and he only produces a scratching sound, so I was able to keep on playing despite Scratchman's energetic and rather frenetic hoedown.  So it only made me laugh.  And as the smile grew on my face and I began to laugh out loud while playing my violin, other people too began to smile uncontrollably and laugh with me.  Scratchman had the biggest smile of all.  I could tell that he really was enjoying this bizarre shared busking experience.  The funniest part of this whole episode was that every time the rush of people went past and it was just him and I, Scratchman would get super animated and jump around and click his heels just for me.  The more I laughed, the more he jumped around, and Scratchman is no spring chicken.  Amazingly spry for his age. It was a very funny morning of avant-garde dueling fiddles.

Eventually, I got to the Mission today and had a nice time busking.  The acoustics are great and with newer strings on the fiddle I thoroughly enjoyed playing for about two and a half hours continuously.  Unexpectedly I ran into a busking buddy of mine who plays the cello.  We decided to jam for a little while and took a nice "breather" before we started and admired the twilight sky.  Pink clouds hovered in the direction of the ocean.  We played a little chamber-rock then and shortly into the jam I was feeling famished and ready for a taco break.  There are no shortage of fantastic taquerias in the Mission.  I have a new favorite that has a great veggie taco for two dollars.  Fits nicely into the busker budget.  

After my taco and walking around the Mission in a bit of a daze I decided to wake up for round two of busking with an Americano at a quiet coffee house on Valencia.  I then hopped on a BART train and cruised back downtown to the Powell St. station and found the 4th St. tunnel vacant to my professional delight.  I was tired, but rent was beginning to loom over me.  I played for another two hours to mostly conscious people...there were a couple bums taking rest and solace in the tunnel.  I play them to sleep typically and they are harmless.  I have become quite fond of one of the bums.  He is a sweet old 65 year-old man named Joe.  He is very drunk most of the time.  Tonight someone tried to steal his chicken from him while he was passed out.  I stopped in the middle of a song and had to tell the would be thief.."Hey!  Don't steal from old Joe." At midnite I quit for the day and headed home to North Beach.  Another day in the life of an American busker.