Spontaneity

Yesterday at Tuesday Market I had more fun than usual. I had more sales than usual too, and those two things might have been related. Customers definitely like it to be fun, vendors do, and of course the people-watchers really do.

The best fun was brought by that iconic (he said so) troubador, Rich Glauber. He has formed the habit of stopping by my booth at Market to sing a few songs with me, not a planned thing, just what happens sometimes. Occasionally he comes without his guitar to check the mood, and he does come without his guitar regularly, as I am one of his stops at the Market. You know how it is when you want to connect with someone you know, not just wander aimlessly amid people you kind of know, or have seen before anyway. So he visits me.

I wouldn't say we know each other intimately, but we have an easy friendship, read each other's blogs, and have known each other a long time through the Radar Angels. I'm not one of the performing angels, I always say, but Rich has this special quality that he carries with him wherever he goes. He is a catalyst for music.

He sings with kids, he sings with old folks, he sings with anyone who likes to sing, and he is super good at setting everything up so people enjoy themselves, loosen up, and remember lyrics they haven't accessed for decades. I suppose I am in the category of kid-like old folk, and the songs he chooses for me are usually old standards, like "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" (the tomato-tomatoh one) and "Oh What a Beautiful Morning," songs I learned in chorus or from my parents or at family reunions.

My Mom is a singer, as is her whole family, and we sang all the time as kids. We sang when we were cleaning up the kitchen, in the car, on the boat, up in the trees. I used to climb the clothes pole and channel Peter Pan. ("I've gotta crow..."). I have three sisters, and we used to get wonderful harmonies, though not very strictly. My voice is second soprano or something, alto, I don't know. It's a bit low and I don't have a broad range, and I'm not very disciplined about it. I do love to sing, though, and Rich figured that out.

The first time I performed with him was just on percussion during one of his shows at Family School. All of the kids were astonished to see that side of me, and that Rich called me McD was a crackup for them. I am kind of inhibited in front of a real audience, but when no one is watching, I can enjoy myself a lot.

So Rich comes by, he transposes everything into my range, and he comes up with wonderfully obscure songs and leads me through them. I get about half of it usually, out of my memory. Yesterday we did Heart and Soul (I only know it on piano, apparently), Glory of Love, You Make Me Feel So Young, and Dancing Cheek to Cheek, which I have almost learned now.

The most precious moments for me were at the start, when he launched into "Let's Fall in Love." We were standing in the empty space next to my booth at the Tuesday Market, with no one around but my fellow vendors, and we got pretty cute. We were sort of flirty, smiley, joyful. I suppose it could have been imagined that we were falling in love, but we were just playing around. I felt young and cute and really comfortable and happy, so I sang out.

I'm pretty sure Rich and I aren't falling in love, just to be clear, but we are liking this game a lot. He's very sensitive to my sales and customers, even joking them up some if it seems like a good idea. When we are forced into too small a space it sometimes gets in the way of commerce, but on Tuesday, sitting on the bench or walking around in little circles in the dappled shade of the trees, it was perfect. When I don't have an audience I am perfectly happy to be on stage.

I'm a solitary person, as you might have noticed, and I don't have a lot of intimacy in my life, but this level of it, with him being the encouraging mentor that he is, letting me feel just special enough, is really nice. I am going to miss him when he goes to Thailand for four months. Hopefully it will be during the Market off season so we won't lose this little practice of ours.

I don't think it will develop into a performing career or anything like my writing opportunity, but this musical opportunity is so sweet. I like it just the way it is. I like not counting on it on any particular day, not evaluating it on any critical scale, not working very hard at it (though I am going to learn some songs). It's just a regular type of life experience that friends have all the time, making music together, never getting quite enough of it, never wanting it to end. Very special.

Rich is a one-of-a-kind. He's invented himself and cobbled together a living encouraging other people to enjoy music and let themselves participate. He gives permission. He fits right into my culture down at the Market. In fact, he and I are doing this because the Market exists. We probably wouldn't have found the opportunity without our community gathering place. Cool. Guess this will go in the book too. Thanks a million, Rich, thank you very much.

And P.S: Mike Wilhelm, who often comments on my posts, is a similar musician in that he can encourage anyone to sing with him and he can make them sound good. He's the first person I sang at Market with, a few years ago on a quiet Saturday in October. He plays in The Buntles, and Cello Bella among other activities.