I THOUGHT IT WAS BIGGER
In 1977 I was contacted by a variety entertainment agent for a well-paid 90-minute gig in Weehawken, NJ for the opening of new strip mall. The event was filled with clowns, jugglers, a guy on stilts, and other costumed faux circus performers. I was “atmospheric entertainment”. Basically that meant walking around playing and engaging various people who arrived to see what was going on and if anything were being given away for free.
Upon arriving I met my point of contact at the appointed place. She was a young svelte well-dressed designer jean kind of person with a clip board. I gave her my name and was sent to the tent area for the performers. I stashed my stuff in a corner, drank a quick cup of bland coffee in a Styrofoam cup, and headed out to play in the loud chaotic scene ahead of me. As I walked out clipboard woman stopped me and pointed to my Concertina.
“What’s that?” she asked. I must have looked at her in a funny way and before I could answer she asked me again, less nice. “What’s that? Where’s the crankie thing?”
I was confused and told her this was a concertina and that I was hired to stroll and play music.
“But I thought it was bigger and you cranked it” she said.
It now dawned on me her confusion. “You’re thinking of a hurdy-gurdy” I told her.
By now she was confused and extremely miffed like someone did a bait and switch on her. “I thought it was bigger” she repeated.
I was beginning to think this circuitous conversation would continue another 10 minutes, so I looked at her and asked if she still wanted me to perform.
“I guess you’re here so go ahead.”
The rest of the day was unmemorable. What I do remember was being glad to get my check and leave. Catching the train on time back to the city was the highlight of the day.
It is not unusual for people to not know what a concertina is. Especially in pre-google days. One must see and hear it played to appreciate (or not) what the instrument sounds like and the kinds of music one can play in any given situation. Even then, someone’s unfamiliarity to the instrument can lead to an insulting comment like “Where’s your monkey?”. Again, that is the hurdy-gurdy stereotype and usually is followed by my response of “Job’s open” which shuts them up. They believe, by using a worn-out silly comment, they are being witty. They are not. A witty person is one who looks at the instrument and asks questions like how it is played and where does it come from. The intelligent person has the inquisitive mind.
I have never allowed insulting and uniformed comments to bother me. I was once tipped $20 by a man asking me not to play near their table during in a strolling restaurant gig. I was not insulted and happy to comply. I would have done it for $10.
Nowadays I am usually hired by people who know the EC and appreciate the music I perform. Because of the internet, when I explain I play the EC, I am a click away from them understanding what it is. They can see and hear me, as well as dozens of other professional EC players from around the world, perform on YouTube or Soundcloud.
The dreary days of bus and train rides to strip mall gigs and the like are long behind me. I will still play for tips but if you do not want me to play, you couldn’t afford it. *
And I am no longer looking for the crank.
