“You are such a great singer!” said the slightly drunken woman to me after the band left the stage.
“Thank you very much,” I replied, politely.
“Please sing one more song. For me.” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry, but the show is over, and we’re not allowed to go back on stage.”
“Please?!? I’ll give you fifty bucks if you go back on stage right now and sing a song for me.” The stage was dark, the crew was already packing up the equipment.
“Uhh, no.” I replied, rather annoyed. “Besides, how did you get backstage in the first place?!?”

The above situation actually happens quite often; I’m often offered money to perform longer than is stated in my contract. The question for me: is such a request a compliment to my skill as an entertainer, or an insult to the hard work and discipline I put into my chosen line of work?

There are two schools of thought on whether or not being an entertainer qualifies as a real job: those who are actually in the profession, who naturally see what they do as the epitome of entrepreneurship and self reliance, and those in the audience who see performers as carefree souls, wandering aimlessly from one show to another, with no real responsibilities; we do it for fun, thus it can’t be a “real job”.

It’s that second group of people who are usually the ones who ask the questions that most of us working musicians tend to hate, like “So, what do you do for a living?” or “Do you earn enough money doing this?” or usually tend to start every conversation with “Well, I used to play in a band, too”. (word of advice: NEVER start a conversation with a musician with this line: that will keep you from looking like a total idiot.) Given that entertainment is something people turn to as an escape from the monotony of daily life, they tend to see those who provide the entertainment as something different or somehow exotic, sometimes out of admiration or jealousy. This characterization, be it positive or negative, has the unfortunate effect that it causes people to not see entertainment and those who provide it as something to be taken seriously, even in situations that are very serious, like rallies, demonstrations for certain causes and political events. Also playing a role in this attitude toward performers is the fact that people generally always have an opinion on things they aren’t capable of doing very well themselves (if at all), thus empowering them to offer commentary on a job like that of an entertainer with a certain sense of superiority, regardless of how famous the entertainer may (or may not) be. A prime example: the notion that the public has a right to know about the private lives of celebrities. The idea that people can have a profession that is fun and pays well is a hard concept for many people to swallow, thus lending credence to the belief that working in the entertainment field is not real work.

In fact, being an entertainer can be a very complex business. Professional entertainers at a certain level who don’t have a staff (like me) often need skills in the fields of organization, communication, financial management, and logistics in order to work effectively; I not only go on stage and sing, I’m also the manager, booking agent, travel agent, secretary, contract lawyer and accountant. It’s only when the workload becomes too great that many working musicians get managers or agents. We do things in our jobs that many people go to school and get a degree to learn how to do, which is why I tend to get a little irate when situations such as the one mentioned above take place, because I see it as an affront to the long hours, hard work and dedication I’ve put into my craft over the years. For someone to offer me a measly fifty bucks to do one more song is somewhat of an insult; it’s like having your boss ask you to stay an extra hour or two at work to type something after you’ve been writing a report all day, because he likes the font you used in the report you just finished. The difference being that an office worker would probably lose their job if such a situation came up and they did not comply. In fact, I often do get such requests from my clients in the form of an extra encore or an entire set, but I’m usually offered a lot more than fifty bucks.

In the end it all boils down to the perception of what constitutes “having a job”. Despite what many people might think, being an entertainer is indeed a real job, and, deserves to be treated as such, thank you very much.

So, what did I learn from last week’s show?

1. I have a new appreciation for security personnel.

2. Using your recently deceased mother as an excuse to pressure a singer to do an encore is NOT CUTE.

3. Playing a near flawless show with musicians you haven’t seen in many years is a testament to the talent and skill of those musicians.

4. Free food truly does rock, even if it doesn’t taste that good.

5. Free drinks rock even more.

6. If you can’t take no for an answer, don’t ask the question.

7. Patience has its limits.