My blog post earlier today refers. What a day!
So I was busy singing at Hyde Park, when a tenant asked me to turn down the "noise." I politely declined, saying that I would do so when instructed by Tumi from centre management. Tumi then opted to move me to the other end of the lower level mall. Whilst I was busy re-setting up, which was of course a huge waste of time, I get called over to the table of what appeared to be a sweet elderly couple who asked if the music was going to be good, and also implored that it not be too loud.
Considering their needs, I turned the sound way down. To no avail! I sang two original songs and then launched into Elton John and Diana Ross, after which I went and asked the sweet old dears if the music was okay. BAD IDEA! The granny bitched and moaned about how her husband didn't enjoy his cappuccino and how she couldn't enjoy her ice cream because the music was so loud. A real pair of old farts! Anyway, she bitched in my ear, so I called Tumi. Granny then told Tumi that they had come all the way from Pretoria to eat a nice meal, which had been ruined by loud, "ugly" music. Well, I lost it! I told Granny dearest that the music was hardly ugly (I didn't spend 10 years training my voice because it was fun - it was damn hard work), and that I took offence at her rudeness. Well, she laid back into me and told me that I was ugly. Of course that just got my back up even more, so I got stuck into her again and asked her who died and made her the Queen of England, and that there was no need for her to be such a nasty piece of work.
Eventually Grandpa and Tumi calmed us both down. Gramps took her away, and Tumi suggested that I stand down for the day and pick it up again tomorrow. I said, "Sorry Tumi, but I won't stand for that crap. She needed to be put in her place." She said not to worry, apologised profusely, and asked if I was okay, which I don't think I was. Now I know, based on my blog earlier today that this is part of the game, but I was totally unprepared for Granny's little temper tantrum. As I took my equipment to pack it away, Jurg asked me how it went. I told him the story. This was his response. "They booed Pavarotti off the stage. Don't doubt yourself." Wow, what awesome advice was that!
I also spoke to Kim, one of the tenants. She also gave me some great advice, which I really needed to hear: "If they don't like it, it's their problem, not yours. You are doing the very best that you can, and you love it, so just keep on doing it. I don't see her getting up to sing." Yeah, Kim reminded me of a friend of mine, Roger Dickinson, who said that people used to stand on the side of the soccer field, all liquored up, and tell him he was useless at soccer. It's easy to stand on the sidelines and criticise.
But I am not gonna give up. I may be bloodied, but I am unbowed. And I really need to grow a bigger set of balls. So tomorrow, unless Tumi comes and tells me to shut up, or by an act of God I am struck down, or a tenant takes an AK47 and shoots me, I am just gonna sing. But some won't like it. This is when I become crass and say, tough shit. That's part of the game. Did I learn nothing from the blog post I wrote this morning?
And so now allow me to become even more crass for just a moment: FUCK YOU, UNIVERSE! If you think I'm gonna quit because some old bitch is a miserable pickled old prune and does not appreciate my art, then you have got another thing coming. Arrogant? Maybe. But I think at least the universe appreciates the honesty. Hey, let me remind myself: as John Demartini says, if you're not being crucified, then you're not living on purpose. I can deal with that. Music is my telos, I don't fucking care how hard it is. This is what I was born to make my greatest contribution to the world in.
Time to get back out there, and live to fight another day.
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