January 29th, 2013 - Become a busker

Buskers (street performers) are right up my alley (pun intended).  Watching them perform is socially acceptable people watching, which, as stated in previous posts, is one of my favorite things to do.  Sometimes you get a genuinely amazing performer, like those found on the streets of New Orleans.  Sometimes, you will get someone that truly sucks, and you'd pay for them just to shut up. And sometimes, you get someone who will sing a song that will help to create a long lasting memory.

I will always remember standing on the Red Line track at Harvard, waiting for the T to arrive.  It was my freshman year of college, and I was visiting some friends that went to school in Boston. A busker was performing, his music echoing against the tunnel's walls.   He was good, but not great.  The kind of background noise that you push aside when you go into a big city.

Then he began to play "Wonderwall," by Oasis. 

It's a song that reminds me of sixth grade bus trips and Walkmans.  It reminds me of a time when playing on the playground had suddenly lost it's appeal, and when acting cool in front of girls had come into fashion (just because it was in fashion doesn't mean that I participated in said acting cool...or that I do even today).  It reminds me of a childhood spent in the 1990s, and not the neon soaked 80's that college parties have glamorized. 

Apparently, the song had the same resonance for everyone else standing on the platform that day.  Because all at once, everyone started singing along with the busker.  Hundreds of people all singing along spontaneously, without rehearsal or planning.  It was a pre-flash mob flash mob.  And when the T came up to the station, everyone shut up and got on the train and no one said anything else about it.

Music can connect us to these kind of random and powerful memories, and I think this is why buskers provide something so much more than background noise.  They provide us with theme music as we are walking through our busy lives.  They provide us a way to connect to one another.

To honor that tradition, I decided to be a busker tonight.  I looked up some basic songs to learn on the harmonica.  I got dressed up like a hipster doofus.  And I performed at Center City Park in Greensboro.

"All My Lovin'," "Bad Moon Rising," and "Twelve Bar Basic" were all on the docket to perform, and they went alright.  Which means that I had to tell Elizabeth what they were and then she gave me the sympathy, "Ahhh, got it."

The one that I got down the best (and I use that word in only a technical sense), was "The Flintstones' Theme."

I don't forsee anyone telling the story of the time they were walking through the park and heard a horrible version of "The Flintstones' Theme."  But I did see a few people smile as I played.  And if they go home tonight, and they start humming a familiar tune, they'll know who to blame.