Diary Of A Busker Day 380 Friday May 31st Romsey Market, Time: 10:40-12:10pm
Back to Romsey – my mission being two-fold: 1. to say hello to Bertie – and get him to pose for another photo, as, by mistake, I deleted the one I took on my birthday, and 2. to play for 1 1/2 hours. Doll drove me this time, so I didn’t have the £6.40 bus fare to make up.
Bertie says he was thinking of me the other day. He says they were having some crap talent competition in the compound/community where he has his trailer and there were a couple of guitarists, including a guy in his 50s who was learning how to play (sounds like me!), and he just strummed one chord – a G says Bertie, and a young guy who couldn’t do much better. Then he had three women all singing Yesterday. He said it was so bad he went back to his camper.
Anyway, I tell Bertie I’ve got a new camera. He says ‘How many pixels?’ I’ve heard the word but I don’t really know what pixels are, apart from there are usually a lot, so I say ‘I don’t know, a billion?’ AND, I’ve learnt The Sweeney, Bertie will be glad to know. I play it about 20 minutes in, along with a couple of wrong notes, which he notices of course, so a bit later I practise it with the volume down…then play it again, on the treble pickup, and get as far as the 2nd bar, and mess it up. Unbelievable – I played it perfectly the other day! I’m blaming Bertie: nerves – because I learned it for him!
In fact, I haven’t played very well today although one old ‘dear’ thought I was great and didn’t want me to stop. I think it was partly due to a pain in my left wrist, which I think was mainly due to playing a lot last night – on the acoustic 12-string and the Rickenbacker, on my new song, and they’ve got very different neck sizes, and also, playing high up, so my fingers were squashed together. I need to rememeber what Chet said: ‘Stay away from the dusty end – there’s no money there’.