Diary Of A Busker Day 2604 Tuesday September 30th 2025 Winchester.
I played the Faith 12-string all last week so I thought I’d give myself a break and go back to the shiny Fiesta Red Squier. The Faith is great and the most comfortable 12-string acoustic I’ve played but it still takes its toll on the left hand so a brief respite is fine. No one at the top spot and plenty of people about. The weather is warm; 18 degrees and almost too hot for the leather jacket…but not quite!
Bloody hell, I’m sure the last time I saw that drongo, and it wasn’t that long ago, he was walking about but I’ve just seen him being pushed in a wheelchair and I swear his legs have been amputated! I mean, he’s sitting down and there ain’t nothing in front of him. I don’t know his name and he’s one of the one’s I’ve never had an exchange with, good or bad.
But what’s this? A few minutes later, another drongo, one that definitely has legs but has lost the use of them (inebriation) has his arms round the shoulders of two mates who are dragging him towards the alley. This must be Bad Drongo Leg Day. In fact, the second drongo walked by unaided but with a can of lager so maybe it revitalised his legs. Maybe the first drongo should dump a few litres of vodka down his throat and his legs might grow back.
After California Girls, a woman (obviously American) donated with ‘I’M a Californian girl!’ It’s weird what you think of because I was suddenly reminded of that woman (not American) who came up to me years ago, who said she used to work as a stewardess for Caledonian Airways and she and her fellow stewardesses used to sing “I wish they all could be Caledonian girls!”
The lady who often videos me playing La Vie En Rose, to play for her hospitalised friend, turns up…and asks if I can do it again. Her friend must be getting fed up with this! Anyway, I oblige and at the end she asks if she can do a short interview with me – ‘It’ll only take 30 seconds. Just say your name and how long you’ve been living here and doing this, you know, things like that.’
‘OK, let me know when you want me to start.’
‘OK…now.’
‘Hello, I’m Marvin B Naylor, I’ve been busking for almost 15 years…I’ve lived here in Winchester about 30 years…um…yeah, and it’s quite a nice day…is that alright?’
‘Yes, that’s fine, thank you…I’ve got both your books. You’ve got a map that says where you played.’
‘That’s right but back then, the time when those books take place, I never played here, at The Buttercross.’
‘No?’
‘Oh no, I played loads of spots down the high street but never here. I always had my back to the wall in those days. I mean, this spot is quite exposed – the top spot. Everyone else used to play here but it took me years to get the courage to do it. I just didn’t have the nerve but now it’s just water off a duck’s back and I don’t think anything of it.’
A long session; 2 1/2 hours straight through, and some good coinage (£48.91) and nice to play the shiny Squier again.