Diary Of A Busker Day 48 Wednesday February 23rd Winchester High Street opposite WH Smiths, Time: 2:03-6:15pm.
A landmark day money-wise, as I was able to take home just over £50 for just over four hours playing. I normally don’t get anywhere near this amount – the crowd are in a collectively generous mood today. Be more collectively generous – every day, I say! The weather was overcast and started to drizzle several times, but it wasn’t too cold so I didn’t have to warm my hands up, in fact I was able to play almost non-stop for the duration.
A man in his mid forties comes up and studys my hand positions during The Third Man. I’m getting quite proficient at this tune by now, having played it 5,226 times before. We talk awhile and I keep thinking I’ve met him before. He is a guitarist himself, but unlike most guitarists who talk to me, this man is quite boastful of his talents – “I’ve written alot of songs (judging by his breath, he’s been drinking alot of gin, too)… some of them are great, I mean they’re really great. I do all sorts of different tunings, as well. I tune down – I also tune up (I should hope so, too!)…Do you mind if I play a couple of songs on your guitar?” I tell him I’d rather he didn’t, but he looks hurt, so, as I’m in a good mood – because of the weather, I let him play – but keep my amplifier switched off. He’s the second person I have allowed to play my guitar today. Earlier, a long haired French teenager asked if he could have a go. I was in a good mood then, so I let him play his Purple Haze riff – with the amplifier switched ON, no less. But I find I look more kindly on the more youthful and innocent than on the middle-aged gin drinkers. After he finishes his songs, I ask if he has any recordings he can use to spread the word. He hasn’t any recordings. He wants to keep it to himself, he says. But how will the world benefit – through all the up to date digital and internet technology – from his genius if the world can’t hear it? Surely he owes it to all mankind. I get the impression he thinks it’s too good and pure for us all. Oh Dear… He tells me the story about a man named Alan Jones who played in The Shadows when he was 14. Said Cliff Richard was really only out for himself (really?) and didn’t bother about anyone else. Well, I’m shocked – This goes against TV girl Fern Brittons’ gushing comments she made at the end of a recent TV interview with Sir Cliff, when she described being “…totally in the spell of this man and the Cliff effect…a wonderful man…makes you feel like the most important person in the world while you are with him…” Or words to that effect. Returning to Alan Jones, this man was playing with The Shadows at an outdoor concert in Europe, possibly Spain, when some guy rides on horseback to the side of the stage, dismounts, jumps on stage and sings a song with The Shadows. He was very good, apparently. Is there any film of this, I ask. No, there isn’t. Was he a friend of Sir Cliffs – this young, bronzed, Spanish horseman? I’ll probably never know…
It’s when my man tells me he used to have long hair when I realise I have indeed met him before. It was a few years ago, in the pub around the corner. I remember it well. I walked in with my guitar case, he was sitting at the bar. I went up to order a drink and he immediately began telling me how great he was on the guitar. I asked if he had any cds of his music. He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. I keep wondering how I should regard someone like him. I don’t know if I should feel sorry, or not. They seem happy in their own world of no ambition, but who am I to say that’s not the best way to be: no ambition – no dissapointment. No unrealistic expectations – no dissapointment. Hmm…maybe the way forward.
Later on, I’ve got my head down, concentrating on what I’m playing, then I sense a large dark mass moving toward me and forming an arc from one side to the other. I look up – It’s a class of about thirty teenagers, aged 14 – 15, and all with dark hair. They are listening to me play The Third Man – performance #5227. They are completely silent, respectful and most have their hands folded in front of them. This has never happened before – a large group standing still, listening. I finish and they all clap. They are French students and are accompanied by two teachers or, to use an appropriately Gallic sounding word, chaperoned. Yes, they are very polite and I’m very impressed. Hm…I wonder – would English schoolchildren behave in such a way? I think…Non. Many are then allowed to take photos with their phone cameras. I like them and say to the male teacher/chaperone that I hope they’ve had a nice visit to Winchester. He says something like “It was fine, you know, apart from ze wea-thair.” “Hmm – yes”, I nod. Drawing on my vast knowledge of chanson – grand total of one, I ask him if he would like me to play La Vie En Rose as they leave. He knows it, of course, but his charges won’t. I play a short version while he half sings/hums it. The children don’t know it but are very polite. Yes, I’m impressed.
Earnings: £54.79p
1 comment for “Diary Of A Busker ~ Day 48”