Tuesday, June 24, 2025

#40: Another Day in the Life

The show at Don't Tell Mama last Thursday was fun and exciting. We have some video footage, so I'll do a full report soon. Meanwhile, I had another of those unbelievable Sundays. I will include the full diary entry below. Here is a summary in case you don't want or can't read the whole thing.


SUMMARY: Steve's Sunday took an unexpected turn when Gavin informed him they were hired to lead a peace march. After busking and resting his voice, Steve, in his pink satin jacket, met the eccentric Tony at the New York Historical Museum, learning they'd be playing with a saxophonist named Tequan from St. Thomas. The "march" ended up being a lively, impromptu street performance near Central Park, where they jammed on Beatles songs, chalked peace messages with passersby, and spread good vibes before Tony concluded the "gig." Steve reflected on the unique, adventurous nature of his life in the city, taking such serendipitous musical encounters for granted. SUN JUNE 22

Gavin texted me that we had been hired to lead a “peace march from Lincoln Center to Central Park.” And something about going to Frederick Douglass’ statue and singing “Rise Up, Frederick Douglass, Rise Up.” (?)


I wondered, “Wow! How did a choir at Lincoln Center find out about that song?” I remember Bill Goffi told me he had tagged our St. Clement’s video to choirs around town after hearing it at our Juneteenth show.


Confused and excited, I went early down to Union Station to find out. 


It was humid/hot and rainy when I first got out. My bag was heavy but I went past the subway entrance at 43rd and 8th, turned the corner and went to the 7/11, past the homeless man who stands there and opens the door for you so he can beg for change on your way out.


I pushed past him and up to the Indian man at the counter asking if he had an umbrella. He did. I left my last one at Don’t Tell Mama.


Down in the L station, between the two trains, Gavin had set up farther down because they’ve now turned on the big overhead fan. He said the hurricane force hurt his ears. 


I went and tested it. He was right. The fans are hanging in cages which are coated in that black-crusted oil/dust that permeates the ceiling and pipes in the yellow-painted station.


And they feel fantastic. First day of summer and it’s a hot one. But you can’t sing under it.


Gavin was sitting, backed up to a round metal trash can, facing a staircase, Two hot white girls in very short shorts suddenly started dancing freely while trying to sing along to All My Loving, which I sang directly to them. They were keeping up the hook,, but I didn’t know if they actually knew the song.


As we ended, they said, “Tell us the name of the next song so we can look it up.”


I think we sang Blackbird. They sang and made videos of themselves dancing. If I were straight I probably would have found it extremely provocative. Gavin’s only comment was they seemed very free.


Finally, they took a group selfie with us and disappeared into the train.


But we were facing away from the larger space. We moved to the other side of the black canister and suddenly, we had a platform filled with patrons coming and going. 


I recall a hot young 20s couple with big smiles. He was in shorts and had such beautiful legs I had to keep looking away from them! Gave us a dollar.


But after about 45 minutes, I could feel my voice was tired. I was tired. My left ear kept popping on my m’s and n’s, which makes singing Hey Jude’s chorus na-na-na’s painful. It’s a sinus thing but it happens when I’m tired.


I knew if we were gonna do some big event, I’d need some rest. 


I quit after an hour, then trained home. Gray L to Blue C to 42nd. 20 minutes to a half hour. Jim was asleep so I crept onto my beloved couch and fell promptly to sleep. (And scared him later when he went to pet the cat and the couch moved.)


As I rose, I wondered what was expected of us. 


All I knew was to be at CLARA, a restaurant in the NY Historical museum on 77th and Central Park West. Jim and I had been there before for an Al Hirschfeld exhibit. Nina (whose name is inscribed in each of Al’s drawings), was there. 


Out front on the landing as you enter the door? A life-sized statue of Frederick Douglass. I snapped a selfie.


Inside, through glass doors, past the two security guards who looked in my bag, I turned left into CLARA.


It looked very elegant. A very, kind attractive young woman approached me so I told her I was looking for a group. She asked me what name. I said, “I don’t know. Some guy named Tony.”


She continued, “We don’t have a reservation, and we’re about to close.” She was trying to be helpful. “Across the hall is the cafe in the gift shop.”


Over there, the girl and guy behind the counter offered me a glass of ice water. Everyone was being so nice.


Then I remembered I was wearing my bright shiny pink satin Sgt. Pepper jacket with the bright yellow epaulets, dangling fringe and gold buttons surrounded by sparkly lines of embroidered rickrack.


Suddenly, in comes the hurricane that is Tony. I’m standing at a counter against the wall with my ice water in a paper cup. 


He rushes up to me and says, “Oh, good. You’re here. Let’s push some tables together there in the corner. I got a saxophone player, too. And some people are coming.”


Ignoring the several groups of ladies already seated, quietly sipping their tea and sandwiches, Tony bulldozed into the corner and directed me to drag some tables together. They were heavy.


As soon as I saw him, I knew exactly who this mysterious Tony was. 


THAT Tony!


In our first busking days at Strawberry Fields, he once, out of nowhere, stood up and proclaimed to everyone in the circle, “This guy knows more about the spirituality of The Beatles than anyone on earth.”


Tony is cool. He also never stops talking/suggesting/planning/meeting people. He's a friendly and kooky-in-the-best-way free range psychiatrist who dresses in browns, is always excited and is always writing in chalk on the concrete. 


He excitedly and as if making it up on the spot, explains he has planned a march, hired us to lead it, and he’s invited people to join us, but he’s not sure how many. 


I asked Tony what he wanted us to do. He looked at me and said that he wanted me to do all the talking. 


“Talking about what?”


“You know, that stuff you usually say.”


Me: Blank look on my face.


Gavin arrives in his bright green jacket carrying guitar and amp. Soon, we are joined by a sunglasses-wearing Black guy in a maroon polo shirt and black-colored jean jacket. I asked him if he was crazy in this heat. He shrugged and smiled.


He said his name was Tequan and he was from St. Thomas.


The saxophonist! Tony had met him the night before (?). He was stage managing a concert at the New York Society for Ethical Culture. And they got to talking.


Finally, two friends, an elderly couple with great energy joined us at the table. We bonded over her shoulder surgery and his recent hand surgery.


Tony said we may get one more, dialing his phone.


He pulled out two books. One was a compendium of Jewish Comedians and their stand up jokes and the other was a book of quotes by musicians about music.:“From Bach to Tupac.”


He said, “Maybe you can read some of those.”


I looked through it while he told us a joke from his book. Something about a farmer and a Jew.


I saw the workers peeking behind the counter with their phone, taking photos of us. We smiled.


Finally, after trips to the loo, as Gavin would say, we exited the museum, snapped a few more shots with Frederick Douglass and crossed CPW onto the sunny side of the street.


How long is this march? Where are we gonna play? 


We walked down to a shady bench between 75th and 74th street. The stone wall at our backs, facing an elegant stately Gilded Age apartment building way across the boulevard with two doormen.


Tony said, “Here. Play here.”


First of all, it’s illegal to play amplified music in NYC without a ticket. But the cops don’t usually approach you unless someone complains. 


I was on cordless mic, Gavin to my right with his Telecaster plugged into a small amp. Tequan was to my left on the next bench, bright brassy sax hanging from his neck.


We started with “Love, love, love… All you need is love.”


Tequan was brilliant. I learned later he had graduated music school and moved here from St. Thomas. He had jazz chops and even though we play our songs in different keys from the originals, fitting them to my vocal range, he found the right keys and played some incredible solos!


Tony and friends began chalking up the sidewalk with messages of peace, peace signs, no war, etc.


Passersby were amused. Many took a chalk and wrote something. “Paz Y Amor.” “No más guerras.” (Peace & Love, No more war.)


One guy in particular came along with a camera and began taping us. Then he and Tony had a long conversation on the side. 


Meanwhile, people across the avenue waved at us, people in pedicabs pedaling up Central Park West waved at us, people gave us the peace sign, and we just jammed our butts off, the three of us having a blast as musicians.


After about an hour, Tony said, “Okay, I’m ready to go.” And he grabbed his bag, along with two kites he had planned to fly, and took off.


We looked at each other and said, “I guess that means the gig is over?”


The three of us walked down to 72nd, eagerly enjoying a review of our jam session, promising to stay in touch. 


I love saxophone.


Got home, found a great chicken meal with peas and gravy from the other night, zapped it and we watched “Slow Horses” until I passed out on the couch. Took my pills at 10, went to bed.


I never dreamed, living in Buna, Texas that one day I’d be here having these adventures and completely taking it for granted, like, of course people meet guys named Tony, march down the street with four senior citizens and sing Beatles songs with your South African guitarist and the saxophonist you just met from St. Thomas. 


Doesn’t everyone? 

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

#39: A Day in the Life

Getting ready for our show on Thursday, I thought you might enjoy an insight into a normal day. So, here is my Sunday.

SUN JUNE 15

I woke up depressed and angry about only 11 reservations. I complained to Jim, "I’ll be so glad when this next week is over." I ate the last of my keto breakfast muffins.

Then I stuffed my blue Sgt. Pepper's jacket into my bag. Got on the train and went to the L station at Union Square. I was feeling kind of down, of course, and Gavin was also a little bit down, because we were bemoaning our previous night at Strawberry Fields, which got kind of rainy and dark. So it was a short gig and there was nobody there.

So now we’re standing on the platform of the L train. There are two trains between us. No, we are between two trains. One goes to eighth Avenue and the other goes to Brooklyn so the people getting off the train on the right are going up the staircase, and the people that get off on the left are also going up the staircase.

But when they come down the staircase, they run right to us and the majority of them are wearing earbuds or talking or engaged in some kind of avoidance activity, we do get people who smile and start to dance, or, not dance, their body starts to move. And the knees of the feet or the upper body.

The trains come at about three minute intervals if that long.

Half the crowd leaves with every train. Sometimes both trains arrive at the same time. And, poof! We’re alone.

This morning it was slow. Single bills trickling in. Maybe one every other song. Our backs were hurting, my neck had a knot from me turning toward him for harmonies.

Starting about 9:30. Going to noon. It was miserable hard work, especially since I have to do it with a smile and a playful camp counselor attitude.

But then, ten minutes to noon, a group of women saw us and started dancing. Singing along. That got the passengers going and we had about a 5 or 6 minute Beatles party.

Suddenly, all my aches were gone. It felt like I could do this for four more hours.

One older lady came up to us from behind and said I have been riding this train for 15 years and this is the best thing I have ever heard underground. And she threw down a $10 bill.

Two trains went by. And we were alone.

It was time to go. But I needed to pee. Gavin said there was one in the station so the balancing for me was do I try to find it or do I hold it out long enough until we get to Brooklyn to rehearse with Jake, which was our next stop?

I decided to go find the bathroom. First, I went up some steps and it was another train platform so I thought it was the wrong place so I went down and I went back to Gavin and then he said no, it’s on the platform up higher, so then I went back up to steps and then got more steps and then I found on the other side of the gate or there is a booth and there was a service worker in there so I asked him where there was a bathroom and he pointed me down the hallway.

I went all the way to the end of the station and I didn’t see a bathroom so I made my way back and it found the same guy but this time he was unloading a trash can. So I asked him again where the bathroom was and he said no, you go down this hallway and stay completely to the right. Just stay completely to the right.

So I went down that hallway and sure enough there were these two open doors that I could tell were bathrooms, male and female.

All good, we got on the train to eighth Avenue to catch the C train down to Brooklyn. Jake's apartment is this tiny little bedroom with a kitchen area and all of his musical gears on the walls. I love this guy so much.

The challenge of writing a show — I hate the word “show” — is that to do it right, you have to figure out who you are. Which means a lot of novel gazing, the kind you don’t do in public because it’s boring to other people.

I mean, some people may enjoy it, but for the most part, it’s the boring personal stuff that you have to figure out. Who am I? Why am I here? Who am I speaking to? What is my message? Do I have a message? Why do I do the things that I do? What is it that has put me in New York City at Strawberry Fields? And is that even significant?

And how is that related to who I am? I can tell the story of having played on John Lennon’s Piano, but what does that got to do with the small town Baptist boy whose first exposure to the outside world was the music of the Beatles? Well actually, it was the Monkees. Because of TV.

Timelines are confusing in my mind because in the world of Steve, they are my peers, meaning I think of them as my pals. Like distant friends who I know intimately and they know my songs just as well as I know theirs.

Every single time I meet a Beatles fan and they know some intimate piece of information about them, I feel almost personally violated. It’s totally stupid. Those are my friends. How dare you know as much about them as I do?

But what I have discovered is by singing three times a week for one to 2 to 3 hours at a time my voice is becoming very strong. I have the advantage of not needing to project. So I sing sometimes so softly I sing as softly as I possibly can, and I’m learning new techniques.



ADDENDUM: Our reservations, thanks to friends and Jim shaking the trees, have been climbing rapidly, so now I know Thursday is going to be awesome. I'm so relieved. But remind me to never do this again.


Until the next time.

#38: When Musical Magic Happen

It was magic.

There I was at my friend Jane’s piano. Sitting next to me is the beautiful pop star Corina. She had agreed to guest star on my show on the 19th and this was our first real rehearsal.


Could we find common ground? Her big dance pop chart hit, “Temptation” was nothing like my music. Also, she was born in the South Bronx, Puerto Rican — her new album is called Spanglish! — and I’m a white guy from a rural town in Texas.

But then we started to sing together and yes, it was magic. I'll cut to the chase and link to the video I made of our rehearsal. Just listen to it and I'll tell the full story below of how all this happened.


https://youtu.be/qiUY1DzfKWY

Total New York story. Gavin Gold, my partner in our Beatles act, was busking alone in a subway station playing guitar solos. Corina heard him from across the tracks and eventually ran up to him and said how she'd love to work with him. She and her husband, filmmaker and actor Joachin, had us over for a beautiful meal and we all became fast friends.


As we sat together and planned how we might work together on a show for her in September featuring her material, I casually mentioned I was doing a show on June 19th and would she be open to being a guest singer. She immediately said yes, but then I wondered what songs of mine would work for her.


When we finally met, I ran through a few numbers and we bonded as if we'd been singing together for years. We settled on my two newest songs, both of which I've released over the past month or so. But it was "Something I Meant To Do" -- the song I released only a week ago -- that really sealed the deal. It was so powerful and beautiful.


So now June 19th is all set. We do our final rehearsals this week and then next week, whoever comes is going to be truly blessed by what we've put together.


In BEATLES news, Gavin and I have been having a blast in Central Park when we're not getting rained on. Last Saturday evening, the sky was clear and we had a huge crowd when suddenly a rainstorm passed over us. It didn't drown us, but we did get wet and everyone flew away. But it passed quickly and by the time we started back up -- in our new pink and green jackets -- the park was filled again with Beatles fans.


On Sunday, we sang a set at a Jewish senior center and that was really rewarding to watch the faces light up as each new song brought up memories in their faces. Smiles and laughter and dancing! It was so fun.




RESERVE YOUR TICKETS for June 19th at Don't Tell Mama!
https://tinyurl.com/steve-dont-tell-mama


[This is the hand-crafted non-bot newsletter of Steve Schalchlin. If you wish to be removed from the list, send me an email. If someone sent you this and you want to be added, write me at steveshack@gmail.com]--



Steve Schalchlin

Living in the Bonus Round

#37: Renewal Summit Video

Today, I shall be behind a piano at my friend Jane's place. First, I'll tune it and then I'll get down to putting together the show for June 19 at Don't Tell Mama. https://tinyurl.com/steve-dont-tell-mama I also have to sell tickets! Not easy but I'm working on it!


I have new songs, new singers and my great band, of course. Bonus Round Band with Rebel Nerds. 

On Thursday, I'm going to meet with special guest Corina Ayala on Thursday. She's an electrifying performer who's had chart-topping hits as well as her own successful one woman show. We already met once and developed a great rapport. So, I'm excited to see what we can cook up together.

RENEWAL SUMMIT:
The big news was how much fun it was to be a part of the Renewal Summit produced by the Three Tomatoes. They posted all the lectures -- as well as my short musical presentation -- online. So that's today's link. 

Scroll down to find me, but do look at the other videos. They are fascinating and informative. Then plan to come in person next year! Cheryl Benton has led an incredible team. 


See ya next week! And thanks for your support.


Steve

#36: Our 40th Anniversary & A Beatle Surprise

This past Saturday at Strawberry Fields, as we started our set at 6pm, the crowd was a bit chaotic. I wasn't sure if anyone was listening. The guy before us was a great musician but didn't talk much. So, when I announced, at the top, that we'd later on gather everyone around the circle of the mosaic and sing "Imagine" together, I didn't know if anyone was listening.


The past two times we've done this, it always took a little encouragement when we got to that moment because people are naturally shy and no one wants to go first.


About an hour into our set, I announced we would sing "Imagine" next. But I didn't say anything about joining into the circle because I had planned that for later in the night at dusk.


But, suddenly, everyone got up out of their seats and walked over to the circle and joined hands! What could I do but join them? It was so beautiful!


40 Years Together
Jim and I celebrated our 40th anniversary this past weekend. Didn't we meet just yesterday? Sure seems like it. We had a beautiful lunch with friends on Sunday and another one on Monday. I love free food!

SAFE AND SOUND
A friend said to me that she listens to my song "Safe and Sound" every night before going to sleep. This song also explains one of the reasons we're able to stay together: Because we create a safe home that lets us grow and live in peace.


We don't fight. We barely even argue. And back in the early days, when we did have little arguments, if either of us said anything funny, we'd table to fight to laugh at the punchline. And by then, the air was let out of the moment.


SAFE AND SOUND
by Steve Schalchlin


Safe and sound
Home
Found
Here on the ground


Safe and sound
Safe and sound


Apple Music:
https://music.apple.com/us/album/safe-and-sound-feat-steve-schalchlin-blake-zolfo/1701338261


Spotify Link:
https://open.spotify.com/track/0OPbi5eKesFnakBVAcc32x?si=8ce6fb0769e84e75


YouTube:
https://youtu.be/eeQKCUDrvbA?si=F4ZusgHmVDzhzoqa


JUNE 19:
This is the week that I'll be setting the promotion for our June 19 show at Don't Tell Mama in motion. It's always greatly stressful doing a show these days. Because of my fall and shoulder destruction several years ago, it's taken me years to get my arm back up to functionality. I've been doing little salons and informal appearances on the ships building up to this year.


But that means I don't have a big promotional team or a line-up of steady customers to draw on. Still, thanks to friends, I did manage to get a bunch of critics to the first show in March where we got great reviews. Hopefully, I can leverage this to get more people attending.


So help me spread the word! Come and bring friends!


New Show on June 19th at Don't Tell Mama!
https://tinyurl.com/steve-dont-tell-mama


You are free to stream the songs below but purchasing them is the best way to support independent artists such as myself. Or if you have the means, you can make a small donation through PayPal or Venmo using my email address: steveshack@gmail.com.


And please share this with friends!


[This is the hand-crafted, no-AI, non-bot newsletter of Steve Schalchlin. If you wish to be removed from the list, send me an email. If someone sent you this and you want to be added, write me at steveshack@gmail.com]--



Steve Schalchlin

Living in the Bonus Round







Spotify Links

2024 Songs https://tinyurl.com/3su9t85m

Love Songs by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/stevelovesongs

Personal Songs by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/stevepersonal

Comic/Humor Songs by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/stevehumor

Inspirational Songs by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/steveinspire

Meditation Music by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/stevemeditate

Political Songs by Steve Schalchlin https://tinyurl.com/stevepolitics

Rebel Nerd Songs - lyrics by Steve Schalchlin

https://tinyurl.com/steverebelnerd