Diary Of A Busker Day 55 Monday March 7th Winchester High Street (1. corner of Marks And Spencer, Time: 2:38-4:55pm, 2. opposite Clinton Cards, Time: 5:15-6:25pm.)
The weather? Not too bad – temperature about 7c or 44 degrees Fahrenheit, hardly any wind. Didn’t have to warm my hands in my pockets, not even once. First session proceeded without whistling – the flower seller has Mondays off. One of my regulars, a man in his 60s pops up – “I’m just on my way to the bank, I’ll see you in a minute.” I play for an hour before he appears again. “How are you today?” he says. I’m fine I say. “Did you see my two wives?” he says. I don’t know what he means – “Sorry?” He seems put out. “You know, those two women who were with me – my two girls.” I try and think back to an hour ago and vaguely recall a couple of rather short ladies, quite young – early thirties, with him. “Those two women with me, with the great big eyes – they’re my wives.” “Sorry?” I say. “When I was working in Yemen – you remember I told you before? I was in Saddam Husseins’ government for six years. Well, under Islamic law a man’s allowed four wives – I’ve got two.” I’m speechless. I’ve never met a man with more than one wife. ” I’m also curious – “Well, um…how are THEY, you know – your wives, how are THEY about it, do they mind?” “Oh no. The only thing is that, what I buy for one, I have to buy for the other – they have to be treated equally, so it can get expensive sometimes!” No wonder he was on the way to the bank. How does the British government regard his marital status, I wonder – and enquire. His answer – “They only recognise one as being my wife, any others are mistresses.” “Ah.” He tells me he’s writing a book about his time in Yemen. I say it should make an interesting read. “Oh yes, it will – when I get round to finishing it.”
I’m at this spot too long, the noise from the buses is really beginning to get on my nerves, and more importantly – the money’s not coming in. I’m starting to grunt, roll my eyes and ‘tut’ loudly. It’s time to move on! After a twenty minute toilet/warm hands up under the drier break, I move up the street and set up near Clinton Cards. A few minutes later, an idiot youth chucks three 2p coins which land just outside my hat. He looks back and sees he has missed but instead of doing the polite thing and coming back, he sort of smirks and then laughs and carries on his way. I don’t like to stop playing, but decide that if this sort of thing happens again, I will have to pick up whatever it is – always 1 or 2p coins, run after them and hand them back their rubbish shrapnel…which is what 1 and 2p coins are…unless you’ve got a million of them.
It’s almost half past six and I’ve had a bad day. The sound of my own playing has become more than usually annoying and I’ve collected only £22 for almost four hours out here. Four hours! A little girl gives me a penny – at least she gets it in the hat so I don’t have to run after her and throw it back at her! It’s time to go home, but only after one last tune – Ennio Morricones’ masterpiece – The mean, moody and magnificent Theme From The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. Steven and Holly recently requested I add a piece from this film – not the theme but another song from the film, but there’s such a memorable and distinctive guitar line in the theme – everyone knows it and I just had to learn it! – last night in fact. I think it’s appropriate. Although the street has no tumbleweed and I no cheroot(!), there is one thing I’ve got in abundance – reverb! I have both natural reverb – from the sound bouncing off the buildings on either side of a deserted street and artificial reverb from the dial on my amp. I usually have it set to 4, but I now crank it up to 11 – “How much more reverb can you get? The answer is – none more. None more reverb…” Yes, it’s appropriate in many ways – I’m no GOOD for this lark, it’s truly BAD it’s come to this and I’m too old and UGLY for it all. Indeed. And with that, I say farewell to the darkening street of this one horse town…pardner…
Earnings: £22.33p