I was at a big market in Toronto yesterday. A guy in tattered clothes and toting a beat up guitar was sitting in an entrance with his case opened. A pretty good country western sound and covers, if you like that thing. Waiting for the wife. $30 bucks in 15 minutes. He kept hiding his 'take'. Every song, leaving pennies and dimes. Someone threw down $20 and said merry christmas. He stuffed it in his shirt and I noticed a bunch of bills were filling his pocket.

That being said some clean cut kids were playing a cello and flute thing at the other end of the south building and they had a tip jar with almost nothing in it. Lots of people watching. But they were not where you could stroll buy, reach in your pocket and drop change into the case, you had to walk up right in front of them and do it at chest height. I think the guy in the door where you had to go within a foot or so of his case was the difference.

I only once got a tip over 5$. A woman came up after and said I played her favorite tune. Gave me $100.

Picture this one. My marching band played in Baltimore. A guy heard in the distance the Marine Hymn. Came up and requested it. We were warming up and had played it once but he told the director he was a Marine. We did it. He peeled off 10 $100 bills and gave them to the director. Saluted during the playing, tears running down his cheeks. Told us almost no one ever played that anymore, and certainly not the bands you hear in parades. We saw him the next day, and we did it again. He tried to donate and got hugs instead. From 60 year old guys. We were happy me made him happy, would have done it for nothing and bought him a beer.

I have sat on a corner, dinged up baritone horn, case open, older clothes, and made $50 bucks an hour at rush hour in Toronto. $300 for the day. Sit on an old pillow. Play the same 4 pieces over and over. I can't sit on the ground anymore. And I don't really need to do that, it was a bet and a social experiment. I got $100 on the bet I could make $200 for the day. Gave $400 to the Children's Hospital, and had the receipt made out in the name of my reno-contractor, who pays too much tax and is somehow always broke. Good worker, poor businessman.

John Conley
Musica est vita