Gypsy Jivings

Last month, I got waylayed on my way out of New York City. Earlier in the weekend I had jammed with a couple guitarists in Union Square Park. It was my first time jamming to rock and blues. I’m more used to drumming to Celtic and folk, but music is music, and it was really enjoyable. It was with the hope of being able to drum with another that I brought my bodhran, a traditional Irish drum, to NYC. It seems the only time I get to do so is when roaming so when it happens it’s a rare treat.

En route to the train station I heard drumming. Approaching the drummer, I stop to listen, standing against the wall and out of the flow of human traffic. Donning bright colors, a smile, and dreadlocks, the drummer was playing on a portable set made up of a bongo, a tambourine, and tin cans. I was digging it, a lot. He stopped and we began talking about internal and external rhythms, the commuters catching their trains, generosity, etc.

Eventually James and I began chatting about how the populace considers him homeless, but he does not. It’s said “home is where the heart is” and for the past 23 years, he’s resided in the subways, parks, and wherever he decides to hang his hat for the night. Occasionally he visits family and friends outside of the city. At one point I said, “I have a home, it’s called Earth”. Whether I reside in a house or not, I feel that I always have a place to hang my hat.

There have been times when I’ve deeply considered getting rid of most of my things and living wherever, for a day, a week, or a month. It’s still tempting, but for now I’m settling on roaming while maintaining a home base. Since May there hasn’t been a month when I have stayed put. I caught up with friends and family, saw phenomenal musicians and jammed, was surprised by Pennsylvania’s lush greenery, stood in awe of Idaho’s sand dunes, and then some. In a few days, I’ll be heading through Ontario to see friends. But I digress.

James and I ended up jamming, letting our rhythms join and separate before merging again. It was a ton of fun. But it was also really interesting to see the different reactions from people. He had his portable trunk and I my backpack. Many of the commuters in their business suits walked by completely ignoring us. Some of them stared as they passed by despite the fact that busking is pretty common place in the  subways and in the city itself. Knowing James, cops waved, as did other random folk. Some put money in James’ till and one woman said “thank you” and gave a blessing. A few even danced by us, which was fun to see. We nodded, smiled, or gave a thank you accordingly. The experience was fascinating, partially because of the people and their reactions.  I also tend not to play for the general public so that in itself was really different. I’m used to tipping a musician not vice versa. It was interesting (and fun) to be on the other side of that.

After about an hour, I’m guessing since I wasn’t keeping time, we stopped playing to give our hands a break. As I was digging in my bag for food to give him, James offered me a miniature loaf of bread. Our conversation continued as we ate. The thought of giving him a couple bucks crossed my mind, but didn’t because of something said earlier and I had just enough cash to get home. I eventually thought of the time, but didn’t look at my watch, and figured if I was going to make my lunch date on my way back north I had to go- before we began playing again. Before I left James handed me a couple dollars, which he wouldn’t hear of accepting back. As I mentioned, generosity (monetary and not) came up earlier.

Ten minutes later I was on a train out of New York City. Talk about good timing. Sometimes, one doesn’t need a watch to keep the time. I think I’ll continue bringing my bodhran, since named James, with me on my wanderings. It’s apparent that an opportunity, or the inspiration, to make music can arise at the most surprising times. The same can be said for friendships, conversations, and experiences in general. I just might bump into James again and share some more gypsy jivings.

“Four directions singing, rising, Hi, the open road is home Lady Vagabond has come and come into her own Hi, the open road is home!” ~S.J. Tucker, “Lady Vagabond”

~ by Mish on December 7, 2008.