Diary Of A Busker Day 2504 Friday March 14th 2025 Winchester.
It’s getting warmer (allegedly) in the next few days but today it’s still around 6 or 7 degrees. Again the Buttercross is free so for two days running the local shops are going to have to put up with me for as long as my fingers can hold out, so we’re talking between one and two hours and definitely not more than that. I’ve switched from my Ted Baker trenchcoat to my slightly warmer navy Dhobi overcoat. Again, I’m donning my new black three-piece Next suit but today pairing it with a crisp off white Charles Tyrwhitt shirt with double “french” cuffs and my new/second hand green cravat. I’m shod with a pair of Doc Marten brogues – the Made In England line.
A funny incident. I hear some grunting; I know who it is and when I turned towards The Pentice I see Rob and his two carers approaching. I was at the end of a song so I go into Rob’s favourite, The Third Man. They come up to the Buttercross but instead of hanging about clicking his fingers and enjoying the song like he always does, he turns around and starts walking back down The Pentice! This really made me laugh. One of his carers looked at me apologetically and shrugged her shoulders before she went after him.
It’s late in the afternoon and three schoolboys come up. One says ‘Can I play something on your guitar?’ Me ‘Umm…not really (then I feel like a grumpy old bastard)…well, how long is it?’ ‘Not long, about ten seconds.’ ‘That’s a short song! What is it?’ ‘Basket Case.’ ‘I don’t know it…go on then, here you are.’ I take the guitar off and hand it to him and he does a chord riff which I definitely recognise – ‘Very good’ I say, and he hands me back the guitar and they go off.
Song Of The Day is Life On Mars? It got seven donations, including a fiver so I reckon it accounted for around a third of the entire takings. I still managed to fuck the end up, though. I blame the cold, which I stuck for two hours. I had a real blast from my past on the ride home. As I was coming up Elm Road with my head down (because it’s a bit of a trudge), I hear a shout – ‘MARVIN!’ I looked up and it was Bertie the Flowerman, his head out the window of his big white van. I can’t remember the last time he made an appearance here but it was bloody ages ago.