Diary Of A Busker Day 81 Thursday April 14th Winchester High Street (1. opposite Clarks, Time: 2:15-3:20pm, 2. corner of Marks And Spencer, Time: 3:37-6:25pm.)
I play for just over an hour at my first spot and just a few minutes in a young lady of about 20 runs up and puts her mobile phone right in front of my amplifier – it’s The Third Man of course! – then returns to whoever it is she was talking to. I’ve never had THAT before, possibly never again – it must sound like an old record to the person on the other end. On the opposite side of the pavement are five workmen up to their knees in a hole of their own creation and just big enough for them all to fit in. They’re not drilling or doing anything loud just standing still then walking around a bit scratching their chins and arses. So, I provide their background music for awhile then start to pack up. A regular pops up – a man in his late sixties, white hair, always has a cheeky smile.”Had a good day?” he asks me. “Yeah, not too bad – got about eight pounds for an hour out here.” “Yeah? A bit cold though, isn’t it?” “It’s OK, it’s not like it was a couple of weeks ago – I don’t want to do another winter, I’m too old for it!” “Ever tried busking in Paris?” he says. “No. I’d like to, though. I reckon I could go to alot of places now – you know, having done this a few times now, and people know The Third Man all over the world!” “You’d be getting Euros instead of pounds, you know – and they’re eighty-six pence to the pound.” “Hm, yeah, that’s a good point – and a pound coin is the usual acceptable amount to give a busker.” “AND, it’s an expensive place to live.” he says. “Yeah, it is, although you can live in cheap places, like anywhere else. I stayed in a really cheap place a few years ago when I went to Paris – near the Bastille. When I opened the curtains there was a concrete wall three feet away!”
… down at the corner I’m visited by the sad old French lady who’s always in the same long velvet burgundy coat. She very rarely smiles. I always play La Vie En Rose for her and she always sings the first two lines – nothing more. Today I find out her name – Marie Therese. She has a guitar but doesn’t play it because it hasn’t been tuned for six months and it’s gone out. I say I’ll tune it for her – she’s written her address out for me. She’s not very well. She has something strapped to her waist which monitors something or other and she has to live in “sheltered housing” – a term which always confuses me!
About an hour later I notice a little girl dancing – or jumping wildly with both arms and legs flying out. She’s at the other side of the pavement, ‘dancing’ and looking at me. She’s with her mother, who tries to drag her away after a couple of minutes – which she eventually does, but soon returns to continue her dance. Her mother shouts “She’s doing musical shadows!” What’s that? I’m playing The Third Man and whenever there’s a stop in the music, she stops dancing so I decide to develope this by playing The James Bond Theme and doing a musical chairs thing – I will stop playing, abruptly in unexpected places – which I do and we have a good time, both of us. It’s quite fun even for me! (Things were getting a bit boring out here). After I finish, she drags her mother over to me and I get a pound. “That was good”, I say. “What’s your name?” “Charlotte. I want to sing a song!” – How did I know she might say that? “OK, Charlotte – which song? I might not know it, you know!” “You Are My Sunshine – I’ll start singing it and you join in”, she orders. So I do as she says, and she’s in the key of C and I just manage to keep up with her. We finish and a couple of people around us clap and one old lady gives some money – to her, not me! How old is Charlotte? “I’m five but I sing like I’m six or seven.” Would she like to do another song? Of course she would. Which one? Eternal Flame by The Bangles. Thanks a bunch. Oh well, I do my best but I haven’t got a clue of the chords, of which there are many more than three. I embarrass myself – as I do with her NEXT selection, Away In A Manger. I think my brain’s “busked out”. But she’s very sweet (of course!) and I even give her two 5p coins from my hard earned collection! “Well, Charlotte (I shake her hand), it’s been a pleasure – for you! Just kidding, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Next time we’ll do You Are My Sunshine again, key of C.” They go off, Charlotte waving and ‘dancing’ all the way.
It’s The Third Man again! and a regular, an old man I met last week (he was enquiring about lessons) comes up and wants to know how long it would take him to learn it. I say I would have to hear what he can play and see how good he was. “A few weeks, do you think?” he asks. “I don’t know – maybe. Do you know this technique? – fingerstyle, with the bass, chord voicings and melody – you play them all at once.” “No.” “Well, it’s a good technique to learn, but it DOES take awhile. I can play THIS OK, but I’ve played this a million times, or near enough!” “How long would it take ME to play it?” he says. “Well, like I said, I don’t know. The thing is, it sounds quite simple doesn’t it? (I play a bar)…but there’s a few things going on at once – you’ve got the bass bit, on the low strings which you have to mute with your right hand palm, so it sounds a bit like a string bass, soft-like, then you’ve got the chord notes, which you have to play short and staccato-like, then you’ve got your melody, but you have to play THAT legato, smooth-like, with different fingers of the same hand…” I demonstrate all three parts separately, then all together. “Yes, how long do you think it would take me.”!!
It’s six o’clock and I notice another regular, seventy-three year old Mabel crouching over a drain cover near the bench nearby. It looks like she’s inspecting something or dropped something down it. She moves to the one a few feet in front of me and I can see her put her fingers in the little square holes – removing any obstructions. She comes over, so I ask “Why are you doing that, Mabel?” “Well, someone’s got to do it. I’ve done them all up the street – they’re filthy, look!” She shows me her hand, her fingers are black with grime and filth and who knows what. “Are you going to wash your hands?” “Well, I was going to go to Sainsburys’ – to the toilets there.” I tell her they don’t have toilets there, not for us civilians, anyway. “Don’t they? Well, I don’t have a tissue.” I give her a handkerchief, monogrammed with an “M”, no less. “I’ll clean it and give it back to you tomorrow”, she says. Mabel, you have had a varied life indeed – author of six books, one translated into a foreign language, teacher and now… cleaner of dirty street grills. That’s just not right…
Just before I pack up, an old man fiddles with his wallet a few feet away. He comes up, gives me a pound, I thank him and ask if he knows the song. “No, very nice, though. What is it?” “It’s called Yellow Bird.” “Is it? Oh yes – very nice. Key of A, it sounds.” “No, almost though – it’s in G.” “Really? Sounds like A.” “You must be a musician – guitar?” “Oh no – piano, well I used to play.” I then ask him what I ask all piano players I meet – “Did you play any Chopin?” “Oh yes, a little.” I tell him I play some of the Preludes – the easier ones. “Oh yes.” He still thinks my Yellow Bird is in A, even when I insist it’s not – “It WOULD be if I put my capo on the second fret (I do this), see, NOW it’s in A, but (taking the capo off) now it’s in G”. “Hm…sounds like A!” he says. This man is very well spoken, cleanly shaved and had made an effort to dress well with suit, tie, hat with a small feather, nice coat and expensive looking shoes, but it all looks very old and worn and the stitching on his shoes is coming away. I wonder how he has come to be like this. Hmm…I wonder. He says goodbye and walks around the corner. I think; he must know The Third Man – he’s at least eighty. I’ll tune up quickly and play it. I do and a minute later he reappears – “Goodbye”, he says, walking off, his hand waving at me.
Earnings: £36.13p