Real Music & Real Estate . . .

Yiddishe Cup’s bandleader, Bert Stratton, is Klezmer Guy.

He knows about the band biz and – check this out – the real estate biz, too.

You may not care about the real estate biz. Hey, you may not care about the band biz. (See you.)

This is a blog with a gamy twist. It features tenants with snakes and skunks, and musicians with smoked fish in their pockets.

Stratton has written op-eds for the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Washington Post.



I went to the Shaker Square farmers market on Saturday just because the weather was good. I didn’t buy anything. My wife likes to buy brussels sprouts. I asked the head cheese at the farmers market: “How about if I come back here with my clarinet and play? I’ll give you the money.” I was sick of playing just for myself in my basement. He said OK.

I made $21.50 in 45 minutes. All single bills, plus two quarters. The “little guys” supported me with their Washingtons ($1s). Power to the people. I played mostly standards and campfire songs. That’s where the money is. “When the Saints Go Marching In,” “This Land is Your Land,” and “Autumn Leaves.”

Very few people actually stopped and listened. That’s the ignominy of busking. Nevertheless, I got in some clarinet practice, and an elderly lady said to me, “‘Bye Bye Blackbird’ made my day!” and a middle-aged black man said, “Nothing like live music!’

My sole regret is I didn’t hand the head cheese my band’s business card when I gave him all my dough. How’s he going to know to call me post-Covid? 

Enough. Orwell wrote: “Autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying . . .”

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1 David Korn { 11.11.20 at 9:16 am }

Despite George Orwell’s warning, I will take it all as true. You done a mitzvah, my friend. Be well.

2 John Hilton { 11.11.20 at 10:08 am }

Coming soon, St Bert’s Shrine, Space 5. (Miracle claims subject to review by market staff.)

3 Rev Don Friedman { 11.11.20 at 12:34 pm }

I hope the customers liked your beets. Did they sell many black eyed peas or red hot chili peppers?

4 Dave Rowe { 11.17.20 at 10:44 am }

On the streets in Asheville there are buskers galore, from spoons to tin cans to tubas, I, however, have yet to see a clarinet, you might want to keep that in mind

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