Day 2742
Wednesday September 16th 2026
Winchester
Out today in a new suit, or more precisely, an old one. A 22 year old M&S one – the “Italian” line – navy blue wool/linen and quite dazzling. I haven’t worn it for donkeys and tried it on this morning and it was so comfortable, I decided to go out with it. I’ve brought the mic set up, as well so I must be feeling confident. I’ve also got a new friend on the high street. Gayatri, one of the three Cancer Research chuggers working the street this week, all from India/Pakistan. It takes me awhile to remember her name – I met her yesterday, actually – the best way is that her name sounds like dietary. She’s 25 and says she came from India on her own, which is very impressive. She’s taken a bit of a shine to me, poor thing. Anyway, they’re working for twenty minutes, then off for twenty – one takes a break, while the others work, then another takes a break, while the other two work.
I set up outside the Nat West/next to the outside seating at The Ivy, where I’m not often found. The coinage is slow (yawn) but I keep myself occupied(!)…I do a new number, The Last Waltz by Humperbert Engeldinck, which I’m in the process of working out to play to Mother Naylor and her fellow residents next month in Canada. Anyway yes, who’d ever thought I’d be doing something like that?! Will wonders never bloody cease? I think not.
I pack up after an hour and a half and decide to stay in town, get some grub then do another set. Down near the three girls, Don Lavelle is doing his painting.
‘You just come in, Marvin?’ I tell him I’ve just played up the road.
‘Oh? There was a guy up there singing just now. Where were you?’
‘That was me.’
‘Oh, were you singing?’
‘Well, if you can call it that.’ I thought I’d get that in before Don said something sarcastic – watch it, Lavelle, some of us are very sensitive about our warbling!
Gayatri comes up with some fries from McDonalds – ‘Have some, Marvin.’
‘That’s probably the worse thing I can have on a diet, Gayatri.’
‘Go one, have one.’
‘But that’s your lunch.’
‘Go on, sharing is caring.’
‘Alright then.’
‘Have another, have a few.’
‘No…OK, there, I’ve had two more. Thank you. Right, I’m off to get something and I’ll see you later.’
I decide to get a baguette from Pret and have it at the counter, facing Market Street where I can watch Jacob ply his trade. When I came in this morning he was doing Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5. Right now he’s chatting to someone, with a few young girls sitting down against Pret watching him. He’s auditioned for that awful Britain’s Got Talent, poor bloke.
While at Pret, I fill my water bottle – free water there, then go upstairs to the toilet – I leave my stuff where it is because I can’t see anyone running off with it. The guitar’s tucked behind the trolley and no one’s going to make a fast getaway with the trolley as it’s so heavy.
Back up the road I’m setting up where I was an hour ago…and here she is, Gayatri – ‘Can I help you set up?’
‘What? Really?’
‘Yeah, I’m on my break, I’ve got fifteen minutes left.’
‘And you want to waste it by helping me set up?’
‘Yeah!’
‘You’re alright, Gavatri, it only takes me five minutes, really, you’re alright!’
She watches me do what I do then asks if she can video me, which is fine…but what to do?
‘How about this one? You can sing along, it’s really easy to remember, the only word is “bum”. Honestly, it’s really catchy. Once heard, never forgotten. Really.’
It’s The Pirouettist, of course. I do a verse, sing the “bum, bum” part and she pulls a face.
‘Oh, don’t you like that one.’
‘Oh…not really.’
‘Right then…what about Here Comes The Sun, You know that one?’
‘Uh…I don’t know.’
‘It’s a Beatles song. Have you heard of them?’
‘Uh, yeah.’
‘Right then, I’ll do it.’
She videos me, smiling all the time. Ah, youth! She then returns to her two friends at base camp, just down from The Buttercross which the workers are still sorting out – there’s a constant humming going on behind the covering – it seems to be in E! It’s quite loud but I get used to it.
During the intro to Waterloo Sunset, a man comes up – ‘I’ve been working that out on the guitar. I’ve got the start worked out, the descending bit. Great song. I was at Gordon’s Wine Bar in London’ I interrupt him – ‘I know it, down Villiers Street (I first went there with Lesley, must have been early 1986. Memories…) Back then, you went in the front entrance and down the stairs. Now you have to queue up and go in via the outside bit at the Embankment.
My man continues – ‘Yeah, well I’d had a couple of ports then walked across Waterloo Bridge and the sun was setting. Such a great song. What’s the first chord?’
‘Well, the intro’s in B and the verse starts in E, then B and A…I think.’ I play a little bit – ‘Yeah, something like that.’
We had a nice chat…no donation.
Posh Sarah comes by – ‘I left a message on your phone to see if you’d like to have lunch at the Pig In The Hole in Southampton.’ Ah, she came true!
‘Oh sorry, I never heard any message. When was that?’
‘It was a Monday. You must have been away.’
‘I probably was. In Vienna or Amsterdam.’
‘No matter, some other time. Anyway, how are you?’
‘Fine Sarah, oh here’s my new friend. Gayatri this is Sarah. Sarah, Gayatri…’
Marcus’s friend drops by after Layla – ‘I saw Derek and the Dominoes live.’
‘Really? That’s amazing…that must have been ’round 1971?’
‘1973, I think, yeah. You know Marcus is in a home? He’s seventy-four.’
‘Yeah…he’s eighty-three, isn’t he?’
‘Sorry, no he’s eighty-four. In Otterbourne, on the No.1 bus route. About ten minutes from the stop.’
I did another hour and a half so, utilising basic arithmetic, that makes a total of three hours. The coinage for the last set was almost non-existent, at £3.50, making the total to £20.72. But come on, £3.50 for an hour and a half of (almost) solid playing. You win some…