Diary Of A Busker Day 491 Saturday January 11th 2014 Winchester (1. Next to Creative Crafts, The Square, Time: 11:20-1:20pm, 2. Opposite Oxfam, Time: 1:56-2:47pm).
There’s a guy banging on a guitar and singing. He’s got a P.A. and he’s way too loud. I go through the alleyway, past the restaurants. I could set up here: there are a few people sitting down and some tourists about…Legless Brian’s in his wheelchair with his pint, outside The Eclipse, and as I walk by, he speaks to me – for the second time ever! ‘It’s a long walk today’, he says. (Not for him). I don’t really know what he means…where to? Depends where you’re going, surely. Anyway, I say ‘Yeah, the walk of shame’, and I don’t really know why I said that, either. I reckon I’ll see what’s happening down at Vodafone…
…and there’s a bunch of young idiots banging out some crap, so it’s back up the road…and there’s about ten mountain bikes covered in mud at the same place where I saw Kanan awhile back: facing the street and The Eclipse (and Legless Brian). The weather’s OK: cold but at least no wind, and the sun’s out. One of the first people I see is the son and heir’s old football coach, Mr. McCallum, who says ‘You’re looking well’ and puts a coin in. I say ‘You don’t have to do that, George’. I don’t know, I feel a bit embarrassed if any of Jude’s teachers or friends see me. But he says ‘No, you keep the place alive’, which is a bit of a shock as he usually comes across as a rather hard, stern Scotsman, although maybe that’s because I’ve only ever seen him coaching junior football teams.
Being at the right place at the right time: Halfway through When I’m Sixty-Four, a couple walk past and donate – today’s his 64th birthday! ‘What a good coincidence’, I say. The hour comes…and goes. The hands are OK…still no rain or wind, in fact it’s pretty well blue skies…I reckon I can do an hour and a half.
An old northern bloke with some (old northern?) friends, suddenly sticks his face right close to mine and says ‘Eh, you don’t know that…what’s it, song about the cathedral, do ye?’ ‘What, Winchester Cathedral?’ ‘Yeah, y’know, that one…’ow does it go?’ he says, still with his face right on mine. Well, he’s right – I don’t know it, but since I’m practically next to the cathedral, I ought to give it a go – so I busk it, which is what the word means, after all. He starts singing ‘Winchester Cathedral…this bloody town’ – that’s not how it goes, is it?! Anyway, his wife drags him off, she’s saying something like ‘Oh, he’s always singing in the street/pissing people off/annoying me’ – something like that.
The hour and a half went quick so I decide to go for two hours, and in fact I make it to an hour and 55 minutes before I have to repeat anything, then it’s Albatross…and halfway through, the woman in the Pavillion clothes shop opposite makes quite a point, shutting the door, making sure it’s shut tight, then looking at me. No, there’s no mistaking the message. I suppose two hours of me was rather trying some people’s patience, so after Edelweiss, I pack up. Actually, two hours was too long for me, too. I suffered some real blanks, like in Londonderry Air, Chinatown – even Edelweiss: I couldn’t remember how it started – my brain was going.
I go to Waterstones. They’ve got a table laid out with loads of fat paperbacks. All those 1001 Things To Do Before You Die books – awful title. I think they’re starting to scrape the barrel. I mean, I can understan 1001 Paintings You Must See Before You Die, but 1001 Golf Holes You Must Play Before You Die?! And 1001 Beers You Must Try BYD, 1001 Cars To Dream Of Driving BYD. What about 1001 Buskers You Must Give 1001 Pounds To Before You Die, and have ME as the first one, what about that, eh?
Then I looked at a book on Sandy Denny, who the only thing I know about is she sang on The Battle Of Evermore, and I still don’t know anything more, apart from she did her bit in February 1971…and she told Pete Townsend she thought he was beautiful.
After half an hour I got bored so I walked back out…and that noisy lot are still at Vodafone, so I head down to Oxfam, where I haven’t been in a while…and I shouldn’t have bothered. Almost one hour later and I’ve made about £3 – no more. Terrible. I was getting depressed so I packed up, which was a shame as I was in a good mood after the first set, where I made about £27.
A bit further up the road, I passed a guy sitting with a guitar on his lap (legs, really…what is a lap?), and he was playing all that really fast tapping stuff: about 20 notes a second, relentless…and pointless! But the sonofabitch had a load more coinage than me!
Earnings: £29.87p
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