Day 2668
Tuesday March 17th 2026
Winchester
A sunny day and another bikeless sojourn into town. I set up at the crossroads and immediately regret it – the wind is ferocious but I can’t be arsed to rig down and go somewhere else, even though it would take me less than four minutes. I mean, it might be windy any other place I go but at least this spot’s in the sun.
The coinage is terrible – after almost an hour I’ve got two pound coins! It must be the wind that’s putting people off digging into their pockets. I’m also getting cheesed off with the case blowing shut and blowing away – even sitting down with my right foot over the lid, it’s still blowing shut.
On the hour, I’m doing Waterloo Sunset (and still the two pound coins are the sole occupants of the case) and there’s a man filming me from three feet away who I’m hoping will contribute – I mean, he has to, hasn’t he?! At the end he comes up, says something and walks off. “Oh, come on, you’re joking” I think. I can’t make out what he says so I shout after him – ‘Sorry?!’ He comes back, I say ‘What was that?’ and he says ‘That’s my dad’s favourite song’, I say ‘Great’ and he walks off again – no donation, which I think is just bad form.
Anyway, I’ve decided definitely to pack up when another man, who’d been standing nearby comes up and the first thing I notice is his eyes are a bit watery and have red rims, like he’s been crying. He says ‘My dad is very ill but anyway, I see you’ve got some CDs? Can I buy them?’ Well, at this I’m elated, relate how badly the day has gone (all one hour of it), practically give him the entire Hard Luck Story, and tell him the specifics of the CD prices – One for £10, one for £8 or both for £15 – ‘Special off just for today in Winchester!’ And he only hands me two tenners, saying ‘I’ll have both for twenty.’ No change required! Well, my elation is absolutely elated even more. The sale completed, he says he’s going to sit over against the Pret wall and listen to me play, which means I have to do a bit more, which is no problem at all, as he’s single-handedly saved the day. In fact, I even said to him ‘You’re my Saviour Of The Day!’
So he goes over, sits down against the wall and I do While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Tales Of The Unexpected and end with Here Comes The Sun, occasionally glancing at him and he really does look like he’s about to break up any second. When I start to pack up, he comes over and I bitch about the wind and he says ‘There was none where I was – you picked the one spot where there was wind!’ He then says ‘My dad loves The Beatles – thank you for that…he’s not well. Look, can I buy you a drink? Or maybe you want to carry on until it gets dark. I don’t want to take you away from doing your job.’
Having a drink with a “punter/customer” is something I wouldn’t normally do but this guy obviously wants someone to talk to so I say I was going to pack up, anyway, and yes, I could have a drink – ‘one, not four or five, at the William Walker’ which is a stone’s throw away.
And that’s what I did. His name is Richard, he’s 43, Canadian, and his father has stage four cancer – prostate cancer which has spread to his lungs and the doctors can’t help him. Richard has come over from Barcelona where he lives with his wife, his other brother has come over from Canada and his sister has come from Belgium. They’ve all come over because the doctors have said the father’s got three or four days left, at the most…but that was ten days ago! So they’re in a state of limbo, not knowing how long the father has – I mean, this sort of thing can go on for weeks, months even – and it’s all taking its toll on them. ‘My dad said “no matter what you do, please get checked up, PLEASE!”‘ Richard said. All I can do is sympathise and tell him about my own experience. Poor Richard, he went to the toilet, came back and said he had to go and meet his brother – didn’t even finish his pint. He just quickly embraced me, thanked me for the Beatles music and left. He looked like he was about to break down any second. Poor bloke.