Diary Of A Busker Day 2298 Wednesday January 23rd Winchester High Street.
Down at the crossroads it’s not long before some disruption occurs. Today in the form of a shouting man but at least it’s not aggressive shouting and intimidation such as that inflicted by that arsehole Gary Page, who I fortunately haven’t seen about since well before Christmas. At the end of November local copper Big Neil said they were trying to ban him from the city centre from December 6th so maybe that’s what’s happened and they’ve extended it.
Anyway, this bloke is just shouting happy things…like ‘Are you happy??!’ and dancing about. He carries on for a couple of minutes then shuts up and goes into Starbucks, comes out a few minutes later and starts up again ‘Happy?…ARE YOU HAPPY?!’
I resurrect/revive two new songs; the Robinson Crusoe theme (as favoured by Graham the other day) and Chet Atkins’s arrangement of Chinatown. The former sounds better than the latter, probably because it’s my own arrangement and I know my limits!
An old couple come up. They ask if I do other things.
‘You mean parties and weddings, stuff like that? Yeah, definitely.’
‘Oh good, and how far do you travel?’
‘How far do I travel? Anywhere…hundreds of miles.’
‘Really? Well there’s a club – a social club in Tadley…’
I interrupt ‘Tadley? Oh I know Tadley, well…I know Rowan Road, we used to visit my uncle there, in the 70s’
‘Oh really?’
‘Yeah, and there’s a row of shops at the top of the road.’
‘Yes, that’s right, well the club – it’s mainly over 65’s – isn’t far from there…so how much would your fee be?’
‘Well it depends what day it is and what my travel expenses are because I don’t drive.’
‘No? But how do you get about?’
‘Well, I have to get trains, and cabs or buses. I’d have to get a cab or bus from Basingstoke station.’
‘Oh…couldn’t you get a lift from your uncle?’
‘That might be a bit difficult, as he’s been dead the last 20 years.’
‘Oh, sorry! Anyway, we would want you to play an hour. How much would you charge for that?’
‘Well, I would need to clear a hundred pounds really (he looks a bit taken aback)…but I’m always up for negotiation depending on the budget. The thing is, some people when they see me play outside, think I’ll do something for twenty quid and it doesn’t work like that!’
‘Oh no, of course not!’
‘No…but take my card, in fact take two – I’ve got hundreds, and give me a ring or send me a message and we’ll sort something out.’
They seem happy about that (not as happy as the bloke from earlier) but I can guarantee 99.999% I’ll never hear from them.
An hour and a half did it for me so I cycled back for some refreshments and warmth…and to unpack my new green Doc Marten boots! They’re not quite as dark a green as the guitar but where there’s shadows it’s darker so it looks exactly the same shade, which is good enough for me. I think I’ll wear them for the second session…
…at the top spot, aka The Buttercross where, after half an hour, my man in the motorised buggy pulls up, produces a small cardboard box full of 50ps and pound coins and dumps about £15 worth of 50’s in the case.
‘You might as well have ’em, I collected ’em during Covid.’ I said I would gladly take them off his hands. He then proceeded to the inevitable conversation about guitars/guitarists, which lasted about fifteen minutes. I didn’t mind as he’d been quite generous and it gave me a chance to put my hands in my pockets to warm them up.
‘Bloody hell, have you seen Mark Knopfler these days? He don’t ‘alf look rough. Nothing like he looked back in the day.’
‘Well, he’s getting on a bit…I mean, I don’t look like I did thirty years ago.’
‘Haha…no, well, I actually like what ‘e does now.. More…regional sort of music, you know? Not like the old Dire Straits stuff, which I can’t stand. More like where ‘ee’s come from.’
‘What, the north, Newcastle?’
‘Yeah, Newcastle…but I couldn’t stand all that Sultans Of Swing. If I don’t ‘ear it again ever, I’ll be fine with that.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean although that one used to be me sort of party piece when I was playing back in Canada, doing gigs, bloody ages ago. He was one of the reasons I got a Strat. In fact, I met him once.’
‘Did you? I’ve heard he’s quite a nice bloke.’
‘Yeah, I think he probably is…especially compared to most of them. I met him at a posh music business thing in the 1980s. It was for the manager of a group I was in. It was his wedding, in fact, and he had the reception, in the evening, at the Sheraton Park Tower and I was coming out of the toilets and Mark Knopfler was coming in and I held the door open for him and he said “thank you” and that was the extent of our relationship. But he was polite!’
‘Yeah…(he leans to get a closer look at my guitar), that a new guitar?’
‘Yeah, nice isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, what happened to the white one?’
‘Well, I’ve got a problem with the nut, where the high E goes in. It’s worn down.’
‘Ahh, yeah, well you see where the string goes over on the bridge you got? It’s a sharp angle and it’ll cut through the string. Now, I ‘ad a problem with that. Got a roller bridge for it. You get one of those, that’ll sort it out.’ (that wasn’t the problem but I didn’t correct him).
‘Yeah, maybe I should do that. Anyway, this one sounds alright, does it?’
‘Oh yeah…can I ask how much you paid for it? Would that be rude of me?’
‘Not at all, I got it for £449 from a bloke in Camden – a bargain, actually…and it goes with my new shoes!’
‘Ooh, get you!’