Posts
Just Rude
People often ask me if they can pull a string on my
harp. Sometimes they just do it without
asking. Sometimes they even do it
without asking while I’m playing. Um,
hello? Ever heard of personal space? Ever heard of not touching other people’s
expensive personal property without permission? Ever heard of not interrupting an
inspired performance? It’s just rude.
 |
| If you enter my harp bubble, I shoot you with my angry eyes. |
I’ve Probably Been Posted on Social Networks Hundreds of Times
Many of my harp adventures came to pass during my central
park busking days. I often felt like the
newest New York landmark, because people would flock to me to pose for
pictures. I seriously thought about
posting a sign asking for a dollar per picture.
I would’ve made bank. I’ve
probably been posted on social networks hundreds of times with captions like, “What
the (insert word of choice) is this thing in central park?!”
Once a foreign couple in full wedding garb passed by, toting
their videographer with them. Said videographer
took a video of said couple dancing in slow motion next to me. I definitely should have charged them for
that one.
Karaoke
Again in central park, a little boy, who informed me that
his name is Barack (I found that especially memorable, as it is a rare name and is
also the name of the US President), decided that I was something of a live
karaoke machine. Yeah, I was playing
Disney songs (I hope I don’t get a call from a Disney lawyer for posting that),
so I suppose I should have expected as much.
It was pretty cute, but also kind of annoying. He just stood in front of me, facing me,
singing his heart out. I wouldn’t have
minded so much, but I’m pretty sure it drove some people away. When I busk I mean business.
I Probably Shouldn’t Even Share the Horror That is This Story
Once while I was tuning before high school orchestra, a
cellist picked up his cello to extend his end pin. He hit the sound board of the harp with his
end pin on its way back to the floor. It
was horrifying. Thank goodness the harp was a member
of the aforementioned plywood breed of harps and not my own.
Timber!
My most recent audience member-caused performance mishap occurred
at a fundraiser dinner. I was there with
the Dothan Moonlighters, a big band. I
performed several pieces with the band, as well as several solos. In the middle of one of my solos (of course)
one of the servers walked into my stand, causing my stand, and the very heavy
music book that was perched upon it, to become acquainted with the reality that
is gravity. Again I can say thank
goodness, because it fell away from my harp. (Instead it hit the back of an unsuspecting patron’s chair. Is it wrong of me to be grateful for that?)
